Sweat beaded across Laya’s back. She could try to climb down. If she watched her step, she could make it. The sun was too bright, and the flower bushes below taunted her. She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t keep thinking about falling, or she would lose her nerve. She thought instead of her family, trapped somewhere within Imeria’s clutches. Laya needed to escape⁠—for them.

With a deep breath, she braced her bound wrists against the edge of the balcony and swung her right leg over the balustrade. As she slipped over to the other side, guards burst through her door.

“Stop right there!”

Now. Jump now, you coward.

Laya’s wrists slid against the balustrade. She panicked and lost her balance. The second she righted herself, a guard grabbed her by both arms and wrenched her back onto the floor of her bedroom. She balked when she heard the window screen slam shut. What if that had been her only chance to flee?

“I wouldn’t try that again if I were you,” a deep, hearty voice called. She looked up, half expecting to see Ojas crouched before her. Instead, it was a towering man with rows of tattoos that wound their way up the thick muscles of his arms. Laya recognized him.

“You’re Vikal,” she said. “Luntok’s told me about you.”

“He’s told me about you too, Dayang.” Vikal helped her to stand.

“I won’t see him. You can’t make me.” Laya hated how small and spiteful her voice sounded. She had stood beside a great deal of warriors, and never had they made her feel so weak before. With her hands bound, the blood of Mulayri would be of no use to her. For the first time, she wished she had at least a kernel of Bulan’s training. If she knew how to wield a dagger, how to sink it between a man’s ribs, maybe she could overpower him.

Vikal sighed. He addressed her as if she were a petulant child. “Come, now. They only wish to speak to you.”

She tilted her chin up at him. “Tell them they have no right to make demands of me.”

“Dayang, listen. You are in no position to refuse.” He reached for her arm, but she shrank away, shaking her head violently.

“I won’t speak to him. I won’t.”

“Dayang, please⁠—”

“No.”

She screamed when Vikal reached for her again. Exasperated, he called one of the other guards to help him. Laya lost all sense of reason as she struggled to break free from their hands.

“Let me go!”

Like a wild animal, she thrashed and kicked and dug her nails into whatever skin she could reach. She threatened their lives and the lives of their families. She cursed them and called them traitors. Nothing she said fazed them. They half dragged, half carried her downstairs to the great hall.