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Back Black Salt Queen Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Praise for
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. City of Mariit: Capital of Maynara Map
  5. One
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Two
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Twelve
  19. Thirteen
  20. Fourteen
  21. Fifteen
  22. Sixteen
  23. Three
  24. Seventeen
  25. Eighteen
  26. Nineteen
  27. Twenty
  28. Twenty-One
  29. Twenty-Two
  30. Four
  31. By Order of General Ojas,On Behalf of Her Majesty Hara Duja
  32. Twenty-Three
  33. Twenty-Four
  34. Twenty-Five
  35. Twenty-Six
  36. Twenty-Seven
  37. Twenty-Eight
  38. Twenty-Nine
  39. Thirty
  40. Thirty-One
  41. Thirty-Two
  42. Thirty-Three
  43. Five
  44. A Coronation Prayer
  45. Thirty-Four
  46. Epilogue
  47. Acknowledgments
  48. Thank You
  49. About the Author
  50. Violetear Books x Bindery Books

Grudgingly, she followed her older sister into the great hall. Dozens of heads turned toward her as they entered. Beside her, Bulan shrank back at the onslaught of attention. Laya gave her a small, triumphant smile. Bulan shied away at the slightest beam of scrutiny. Imagine the horror if, in a different life, Hara Duja had chosen her for her heir. Laya, on the other hand, was no wilting flower. Standing in the great hall, under the heat of the scrutiny of a pit of snakes and admirers, Laya bloomed.

“Happy feast days,” Laya said languidly to her sister as she strode into the room. She plucked a wineglass from a passing tray and wove through the throng. If anything, she was doing the queen a favor. No one would notice Hara Duja’s absence as long as her dazzling daughter held their attention. Laya smirked at the nobles as she breezed by, inviting them to stare.

One by one, they flocked to her side. “Dayang,” they called, each in that same kowtowing tone. They bowed low at the waist, offering to fetch her food and drink, showering her with silk-spun compliments.

Laya thanked them demurely. She was only half listening as she looked past their heads. Most of her admirers were young noblemen, who no doubt had traveled to Mariit from across the island to fawn over Laya and her loveliness. But Laya kept her ear trained on court gossip. Half of those men thought her snotty and vile; the other half did not know her well enough to care. A pit formed in her stomach when she thought back to Luntok’s words before he’d jumped from the balcony a week earlier. Each of the men there expected her to select a husband soon.

Laya didn’t want to think about that. She continued to nod and smile as she sipped her drink. Over a hundred pairs of eyes on her, and not one of them mattered. It was foolish, she knew, but she could not help herself. Laya glanced over her shoulder every few moments, hoping to pick out Luntok’s gaze in the crowd.

Seven

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Duja

The alchemist was not what Duja had expected. She spied his outline through a crack in the doorway. He was as tall as General Ojas, but half his width. He had a gangly, almost malnourished frame so unlike the brutish guards who once trailed Pangil as he terrorized the palace. Duja wondered, What in Mulayri’s name did her brother see in him?

General Ojas had him brought up to the guest chambers in the eastern wing, far away from the prying eyes of Mariit. No one, not even the servants, went up there anymore. The air that hung in the corridor was stale. Above Duja’s head, dust particles drifted along in slow, lazy currents, reflecting the faint light streaming in through the white-shell window screens.