Aki’s expression darkened. “It isn’t what you think, Duja,” he said calmly. But she could tell by the tightness in his shoulders⁠—he was ashamed.

“Isn’t it?” Duja asked. I love you. I trusted you. She swallowed her accusations.

“Pangil⁠—he wrote to me years ago. I ignored him. I would have gone my entire life without speaking to him again. But then⁠—Laya’s accident.” He rubbed his chin and reached into the pocket of his vest for his pipe.

Duja watched as he struck a match against the windowsill. The tobacco cloves sputtered when he drew the flame to the pipe bowl.

“Pangil had written to me around that time. Claimed to have found a way to suppress the body’s degradation. At first, I dismissed it as mere rumors. But then, I began to read things⁠—terrible, fascinating things.” Aki drew in a deep breath. When he exhaled, puffs of smoke wafted from his mouth to the library’s high coffered ceilings. “I meant it when I told you I would explore every avenue, Duja,” he said, meeting her gaze. “And while I hate your brother as much as you do, there is hope.”

Anticipation bubbled in Duja’s stomach⁠—anticipation and dread. Her husband would not have hidden the letter from her if he didn’t have his reasons. He was loyal to Duja, to his family⁠—not to her brother, the exiled prince. But what if he and Pangil had struck some perverse agreement? Would Aki renege on the vows he’d made her based on nothing more than the empty promises of an old friend?

“This man,” she said, thinking back to the letter. “Pangil mentioned a man who can help me. A kind of . . . alchemist.”

The word felt foreign on Duja’s tongue. Alchemy had no place in Maynara. It was more science than sorcery, and it lay beyond her realm of comprehension.

“The key to abiding glory,” the king said, quoting Pangil’s letter. Judging by the faint frown at the corners of his lips, a large part of him doubted it. “I was going to tell you, Duja. I wanted to wait until after the feast days,” he added, a wrinkle of regret between his eyes.

Doubt twisted in her stomach. She wanted to believe him. While the king was clever, he was no match for Pangil and his nose for weakness. She couldn’t believe any promises either man made her. Duja needed to meet with this alchemist herself.

“No. We shouldn’t wait. How fast can you get word to him?” she asked. The words flew from her mouth before she could stop them.

Aki’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Duja⁠—are you certain?”