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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

She brushed her thumb across Luntok’s cheek, smooth as glass. The truth would shatter him. If she could lie to him, she would. She could lie so easily to anyone⁠—anyone else. Instead, she told him, “I want us to stay as we are.”

“Like this?” he breathed, cupping her face in his hands.

Yes. She willed herself not to melt. “Exactly like this.”

Laya’s eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into their kiss. She never wanted to stop kissing him. She would flood the entire land if it meant they were the only humans left. When she was with him, there was no need for solid ground.

Oh, Luntok. She sighed against his lips.

Loving him was like flying. When she was with him, she soared.

Thirteen

line

Luntok

Luntok drifted alongside Mariit’s canals as if on a cloud. He hummed as he walked and smiled vacantly at passing strangers. He almost forgot to stop and spit on the ground as he traversed the foreign district, which still stood, withering, in the shadows of the palace walls⁠—such was the effect Dayang Laya had on him.

The princess had left him in front of the row of deserted consulates, with their cracked windows and crumbling facades. It was foolish to let Luntok escort her back to the palace. That was as close as Laya dared bring him. They’d been careful to stay off the main roads, stealing kisses in the privacy of shaded alleyways, to avoid being seen.

When, at last, he’d kissed her goodbye, every inch of his body whined in protest. Laya pulled away from his embrace, a sad smile tugging at her lips. She looked so lovely, the moonlight softening the sharp angles of her chin. Luntok’s grip tightened around her fingers. He released her only when he saw her wince.

“Brutish warrior. You must take better care,” she’d told him wryly. “I am nothing without these hands. Half the kingdom seems to think it.” Melancholy flickered in her gaze then. Through Laya’s hands, the wrath of Mulayri flowed. Her hands allowed her to wield her power⁠—the same way his hands allowed him to wield a sword⁠—but they were only a small part of her. Perhaps a few irrelevant, pea-brained Maynarans thought of Laya as nothing but a broken vessel. Judging by the slight quiver in her lower lip, she almost seemed to believe it herself.

Luntok responded with a vehement shake of his head. “You are so much more than your hands,” he told her, raising her fingertips to his lips.

“What else do I have to offer, then?” Her eyebrows quirked up, the same way they always did when she was wheedling for compliments. And, as usual, he indulged her.