A hundred half-formed apologies fought their way to Imeria’s mouth. No time to utter a single one. More shrieks for help rang out from the eastern wing. Her heart plummeted in her chest. She recognized that voice. The queen was still trapped somewhere between the mounting flames.

“Mother,” Duja whispered. She charged toward the burning building, leaving Imeria in her wake. An armored guard stepped into the princess’s path.

“Don’t come any closer, Dayang. It’s too dangerous,” the guard yelled, his voice carrying over the sound of snapping timber.

Imeria turned to find the courtyard flooding with servants. Water sloshed across the tiles as they thrust buckets from one hand to another, transporting them all the way from the palace kitchens. As quickly as they could, they tried to douse the fire leading up to the staircase. Anything to clear a path up to the queen.

Guards barked orders from all directions. More water, they cried. But the fire was moving too fast.

General Ojas emerged from the eastern wing, ash smeared across his face. “The staircase is collapsing,” he choked out between coughs. “There must be another way.”

Imeria’s eyes stung as she gazed up at the blackened sky. She knew the eastern wing and all the corners where she and Duja used to play. If another path to the queen existed, it had already been lost to the inferno.

The palace staff worked tirelessly for what felt like an eternity to put out the fire. By the time the flames started to die down, much of the eastern wing’s facade had been reduced to smoking rubble, and the screams coming from inside had long quieted.

At last, Imeria crept toward Duja. “Dayang,” she called tentatively, breaking the deathly silence.

But Duja didn’t budge. She studied the embers that remained of the eastern wing. Tears carved a trail through her soot-stained cheeks.

“Mother is gone.” A rare, wild spark flashed in the princess’s eyes. She turned around, her gaze falling on Pangil, still lying unconscious several feet behind them. The black pools in his eyes had just begun to fade. Moments after, his eyelids drifted shut. He looked like he was sleeping. “Mother is gone,” Duja said again, this time with fatal certainty. “And he killed her.”

Ojas approached Duja with red-rimmed eyes. For a long, painful moment, the general struggled to find the words. “I . . . I’m sorry, Dayang,” he finally said. “We did everything we could.”

“I know you did. Thank you.” Duja’s words came out steady, even as her bottom lip trembled.

Ojas gave a stiff nod, then hesitated. Imeria realized that he was awaiting orders.

Duja also came to this realization at the same moment. She glanced once again at her brother, sprawled out in the middle of the courtyard. Her next command caught Imeria by surprise.