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Back Black Salt Queen
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

Haribon Luntok wielded the one power the Gatdulas had ever feared. He had not merely transformed men into magnificent creatures but could also manipulate his own flesh. According to southern legend, he could morph into a giant raptor with a bone-crushing beak and a wingspan the length of four men laid out from head to toe. When Luntok was younger, his mother used to rock him to sleep with tales of the Haribon’s gory victories. Then she’d brush his hair back behind his ears and whisper, You, my son, are destined for wondrous things.

Luntok did not possess the ancient powers of his family, but he, too, was destined to be king. Imeria knew it. Vikal and the rest of the warriors did too. In Mariit, this was among the few places they could think it, in the concealed back room of an inn, safe in the company of southerners.

“Care for some wine, my lord?” A serving girl appeared before him, a pitcher in one hand and a seductive lilt in her voice. When Luntok nodded, she poured him a glass. She didn’t give it to him right away. Instead, she leaned in to whisper, “Let me know if there’s anything more you desire, my lord. It would be my sincerest pleasure to serve.”

She leaned into his side, the warm swell of her breasts brushing against his forearm with alarming forcefulness. Instinctively, Luntok snatched the cup from her, the corners of his mouth curling in distaste. “That will be all,” he quipped. Then he waved her off without so much as a thank-you.

The serving girl shrank back with a wounded look. She swept back upstairs as Vikal and the others guffawed.

“By the gods, Luntok, you don’t need to bite the poor girl’s head off,” Vikal said, chuckling heartily. “She has a pretty-enough head, as it is.”

“Not as pretty as Dayang Laya’s, though. Isn’t that right, my lord?” Jit teased. He was among the freshest warriors in the Kulaws’ ranks, only a few years Luntok’s senior.

The moment Jit uttered Laya’s name, a chorus of disgruntled sighs rang out across the inn’s lower dining room. Not every Kulaw warrior held the princess in such high esteem. Like half the kingdom, they prayed Laya would grow into a more diluted version of herself, sweeter on the tongue and easier to subdue. Hara Duja was the worst of them. If the queen had her way, she’d keep Laya from knowing her full power. Then she’d deny Laya the only person she had ever loved.