“Yeah? Under whose orders?” one spectator yelled. Eti searched the crowd. It was the woman in the green sash who spoke out, a thin line of blood trailing from her swollen lips. Her remark sent a defiant spark through the crowd. Shouts of indignation exploded from the pit. They cursed Vikal, pointed fingers at him, and called him a traitor. The guardsmen couldn’t subdue them all. Another riot would break out any minute. Ariel tugged at Eti’s hand, desperate to slip away, when another figure joined Vikal on top of the tournament platform.

“Under my orders,” barked a crisp, familiar voice that fused Eti’s feet to the ground. She stared at the newcomer, half-concealed by the torchlight’s wavering shadow. Eti’s gut churned in protest. She didn’t want to admit that she recognized the outline of the woman towering above them on the platform. But everything, from her brisk gait to her slender stature, was undeniable.

Laya came to stand at the edge of the tournament platform, sending a shocked hush through the throng of rioters. She already looked like a queen, with blinding rings of gold hanging from her head and neck. It looked as though she’d descended upon them from the heavens. A force equal parts divine and terrible.

Hara Duja’s heir wore not Gatdula green, but the scarlet silk of her captors. Laya held her head high. But the torchlight caught on the angry tears bubbling up at the corners of her eyelids. Tight brass shackles encircled her wrists. Eti’s mouth dropped open at the sight of them. If she could only get close to Laya⁠—get one finger against the brass⁠—then she could snap the shackles in two. But the crowd separated the Gatdulas like a yawning cavern. Laya was too far. Instinct told Eti to lie low. To reveal herself now would be too risky.

Silent rage built at the base of Eti’s throat. She started to tremble, helpless and indignant. Was she truly meant to do nothing while the Kulaws paraded her sister about Mariit as if she were their puppet, chaining her up like a lowly prisoner?

“If you will not listen to my guardsmen, listen to me, your future sovereign. The violence must cease. Remember that it is a crime to lay a hand upon your brother. And we are all brothers and sisters here.” Laya’s voice shook as she addressed the crowd. Not once did their attention waver. They stared at her in tense silence. She went on, more forcefully than before. “You fight over divided loyalties, when your allegiances are one and the same. When I take my place on the throne, I will not be alone. Luntok Kulaw, heir to the kingdom of Thu-ki, will rule at my side.”