Laya silenced her with a look. Servants passed them with trays of food in their hands, not bothering to conceal their curious gazes. Laya glared at them until they diverted their eyes. To Bulan, she leaned forward and whispered, “It’s about Mother. Weren’t you listening earlier? She’s meeting someone in secret.”

Bulan raised her eyebrows. “She’s meeting someone? Now?”

Laya nodded and lowered her voice even further. “If I wanted to speak with someone out of sight of the prying eyes of Mariit, where would I take them?”

Recognition flashed in Bulan’s eyes. She pulled Laya to the end of the servants’ passageway, where stood a narrow window overlooking the central courtyard.

“Look,” Bulan said, pointing.

Laya scanned the grounds. She spied a handful of guards on patrol, gardeners tending to the flower arrangements the king planned to unveil later in the week, and⁠—there. Marching along the arcaded walkway was their mother. Laya recognized her straight back and brisk pace. When the queen wasn’t suffering from her tremors, she moved like death itself was chasing her, which wasn’t far from the truth.

“She’s heading to the eastern wing,” Bulan murmured.

“The eastern wing?” Laya echoed. Guilt boiled in her stomach when she thought about her accident. She had apologized over a hundred times. But it hadn’t been the first time a Gatdula had destroyed the eastern wing. The building was cursed. After watching its gilded facade crumble beneath her gusts of wind, Laya knew that better than anyone. Who on earth could Hara Duja be hiding there?

Bulan cast a wary glance over her shoulder. Wave after wave of servants poured out from the kitchens. Spirited music reverberated through the walls. Back in the great hall, the feast had already begun.

“We should get back,” Bulan whispered.

Laya scowled. “But⁠—”

“Drop it, Laya,” she said with a terse shake of her head. “We’ll only draw attention to Mother if we try to slip away now. Obviously, she wants to keep this meeting a secret. I say we keep it that way.”

Laya glanced back at the window and saw no trace of the queen. Their mother must have disappeared into the eastern wing.

“Stay behind if you want,” she told Bulan. “I will see for myself.”

Bulan grabbed her arm. “And how do you suppose Mother will react when she finds out you’re spying on her? You never think things through.”

“I do,” Laya said with a huff.

“Then, by all means, fly to the eastern wing,” Bulan retorted. “I’m sure the queen will be more than pleased.”

Laya scowled. Bulan was right, of course, but that did not deaden Laya’s interest.