From across the room, Vikal gave Luntok a pointed look⁠—a warning of a sort, but Luntok ignored it. He took a long sip of his wine to wash down the bitterness, his fingers tightening around the stem of the glass. He could scarcely hear the warriors’ grumblings over the memory of Laya’s mocking laughter, forever ringing in his ears. The princess liked to be challenged, and Luntok was not one to back down. Marry me, he burned to ask her. I’ll never force you to be anything you are not.

For Laya Gatdula was many things⁠—a vessel of divine power, a woman of frightening wit, and, most of all, their future queen. Many Maynarans, northerners and southerners alike, did not hide their misgivings. They knew that some Gatdulas burned steadily like Hara Duja, guiding the kingdom like a dying candle, easy pickings for their enemies to snuff out. But most Gatdulas blazed brighter than the sun, as likely to burn the island to cinders as they were to bathe it in their glory. Laya was the latter fire. Her power would propel her to become the greatest queen Maynara had ever seen⁠—or a fearsome tyrant. After her destruction of the eastern wing three years before, more and more Maynarans questioned whether she was worth the gamble.

But Laya was worth it. Luntok understood this, the same way he understood that peace would only come to Maynara if Laya chose a Kulaw for her king. And Luntok would be exactly the kind of king Laya needed. He’d show her where to direct her strength, but he’d never tame her bluster. If she were the ship captain, he’d be her barrelman, always with his eyes on the horizon, telling her how to angle her sails. Their reign would unite the island from north to south. They’d rule side by side. A Gatdula and a Kulaw, coming together as equals.

According to his mother, Luntok would take the throne through battle, not through love. Luntok disagreed. He was convinced his path to the throne⁠—and to Hara Duja’s heir⁠—lay somewhere in between.

In the downstairs room, the Kulaw warriors were staring at him, waiting to see how Luntok might react to Jit’s teasing. When it came to Laya, it was too early to say what was on his mind. The night was young, with hours of games and drinking ahead. No one was in the mood to quarrel over the Gatdulas. Luntok would have to profess his undying devotion to the princess another evening.