“One sip.” Eti brought the bottle to her lips. It was much stronger than the wine they served at the palace feast. She swallowed the liquor and handed the bottle back to him, fighting the urge to gag. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t like the taste.”

Ariel chuckled. “Few people drink for the taste, Eti.” He’d stopped calling her dayang for fear of being overheard. As long as the Kulaws controlled the city, no one could know who they were. She liked that he didn’t use her title. It made her think that, maybe, he considered her a friend. Eti didn’t have many of those. And she needed friendship more than ever.

“Oh, no. I’ve heard how people try to drink away the sadness . . . Although you didn’t strike me as one of those morose types.” Eti smiled at him, openly, trustingly. She half expected Ariel to smile back in that shy, reassuring way of his. But the alcohol had loosened Ariel’s features. His expression fell into one of abject helplessness.

“But I am,” he murmured. “I am morose and pitiful. Unlike you, I truly am useless. How am I to get you out of this mess alive?” Panicked questions seemed to rise in the back of Ariel’s throat before he coughed, choking his worries back down. “Forgive me, Eti. I promised I was going to help you. I just need to find out how.” His brow was creased with worry, but this time, he spoke with shaky reserve.

Ariel was afraid, but he’d never leave Eti on her own. He was as determined to save the Gatdulas as she was. Gratitude swept through her, a force so strong she couldn’t put it to words. She threw her arms around his neck. Ariel returned her embrace, leaning down to rest his chin atop her head. Warmth filled Eti’s chest as she thought once more of her family. She’d see them again soon.

Finally, her mind cleared from the shock of the midnight feast. Her entire body began to vibrate with a fierce determination Eti had never felt before. What did it matter if she couldn’t wield a sword or summon typhoons? Eti was a Gatdula. The blood of Mulayri flowed through her veins. She could break through locks and whittle down iron bars with a twist of her fingers. She wasn’t strong, but she was small and fast. If she could fade into the city undetected, she could slip past an entire army if she needed to.

And, above all else, Eti wasn’t alone. The mere reminder gave her strength. She squeezed Ariel’s shoulders, breathing in sharply through her nose. “We’ll find out how to rescue them,” she vowed into the rough fabric of his shirt. “Together.”

“Together,” Ariel echoed.