She nodded, taking another sip of her drink. Her eyes fell to the center of the room, where, unsurprisingly, Dayang Laya had stolen the court’s attention. She was radiant in her dress, which fell from her shoulders in a luminous cascade of lapis that rivaled the Untulu Sea. Suitors flocked to her like greedy pigeons. Among them Imeria counted Bato Tanglaw, with his unremarkable face the shape of an upside-down arrowhead. She watched as the princess shifted her gaze between suitors, never lingering too long on any man. Bato leaned in to make a joke, which made her chuckle. The princess angled her body toward him as she sent him a coy smile. The other suitors knew her attention to Bato was fleeting, and they had yet to grow discouraged. When Laya opened her mouth, her eyes sparkled with spellbinding confidence. It was no wonder they hung on to every word.

“The princess seems very taken with Bato,” Imeria remarked.

A rare smile spread across Datu Tanglaw’s face. “She certainly does.”

Imeria knew what he was thinking. That his son was a worthy suitor of high birth, and Hara Duja would be happy to marry off one of her precious daughters to a boy like him. But Datu Tanglaw knew nothing about Laya, of her appetites and her wiles, nor the fact that another suitor had already caught her attention.

A new presence ruffled Laya’s flock. It was Luntok, dazzling in court attire of scarlet silk. Rather than greet the others, he planted himself at Laya’s side. They didn’t dare protest the intrusion, but rather parted like waves to make room for him⁠—as if they knew in some unspoken way that he belonged there.

Imeria smirked and glanced at Datu Tanglaw over the rim of her goblet. “Well,” she said vaguely, “it seems she’s very taken with my son too.”

Datu Tanglaw harrumphed and looked away. He was no longer smiling.

The weight of another’s gaze pulled Imeria from their conversation. She glanced to her left to find a serving girl waiting with a wine pitcher in hand. She looked Imeria in the eye, bolder than any girl of her rank should have dared.

“Care for more refreshment, my lady?” she asked. Her High Maynaran was convincing, but Imeria could detect the choppy lilt of the southern provinces.

She held out her goblet. “Yes, thank you.”

The girl met her gaze again as she poured the wine, and once more over her shoulder when she turned to leave⁠—a clear signal. Imeria straightened. She waited a tactical moment, exchanging a few more pleasantries with Datu Tanglaw, then excused herself to follow the serving girl to the ladies’ sitting room.