“Welcome back to Mariit, Datu Kulaw,” one maid chimed. She and a handful of servants had been waiting to receive Imeria in front of the veranda.

“I’m parched,” Imeria said by way of greeting. She shrugged off her traveling shawl, which smelled of brine and rotting seaweed from her journey, and handed it to the maid.

“We’ve prepared wine for you, my lady.” The maid bundled up the shawl in her arms and gestured to the veranda. Imeria spied a pitcher waiting for her at the center of the rosewood tea table beside a platter of sticky-rice balls wrapped in banana leaves. It was one of Luntok’s favorite dishes. He would have been sitting on the veranda sampling them had he waited for Imeria at the town house as he promised.

“I don’t suppose any of you have seen my son lurking about,” Imeria called, when the front gates swung open. In stormed Luntok. His hands were balled into fists at his sides. Hard lines creased his young, handsome face. It was too early in the day to invite himself into Laya’s bedchamber. No doubt he’d tried. If allowed, Luntok would spend every spare moment at her side. But that afternoon, the ghastly Gatdula girl must have refused him.

At the sight of Imeria’s carriage, Luntok looked up in surprise. “Mother, you’re here.” He swept over and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Is something bothering you?” she asked. The golden bands on her wrists jingled when she reached up and brushed a thumb across his jawline. The sound echoed over the hollow walls of the veranda. Imeria thought of those first few months after her husband had died. Luntok would curl up beside her in bed, and she’d lay a palm on his temple to soothe away the nightmares. Those moments stood out among her untainted memories, which were few and far between.

Her sweet, foolish boy⁠—if only he knew how much she loved him.

Confusion flickered in Luntok’s eyes. He shook his head and drew back. “No,” he said. “Nothing’s bothering me.”

She pursed her lips. A wall had sprung up between them since Luntok had taken up with Laya three years before. Imeria knew this stemmed from Luntok’s fervent desire to have Laya to himself. But politics, not passion, dictated the princess’s decisions. The entire court suspected, even if Luntok was too blind to see it, that Laya would choose another man for her husband⁠—no doubt one of Hara Duja’s preselected bores⁠—within the next year.