Next year, Duja thought, which was what she told herself the year before. Next year, she would prepare Laya thoroughly. The council had never criticized Laya outright, at least not in the queen’s presence. Three years had passed since the accident in the eastern wing⁠—not long enough for the council members to forget what it had cost them. They’d accept Laya as their queen, but unless Duja proved Laya was ready for the role, they wouldn’t make her daughter’s reign easy. It didn’t help that the heir to the throne had a habit of speaking out of turn, brusquely, and in utter defiance of Duja’s warnings. Laya was showing signs of maturity, tempering her tongue before the rest of the court, albeit more slowly than Duja would have liked. But soon they would have to address the datus together. These were the heads of the highest-born families in Maynara. Once sovereigns in their own right, each family first knelt to the Gatdulas after conquest, then in search of protection. Their own ancient magic might have dried out eons before, but they wielded more political power than Laya could fathom. Bound they may be to the Gatdulas, but they required a gentler hand.

The Council of Datus was a curious invention, formed by Duja’s ancestors to consolidate their hold on the island. Before the council, Maynara was less a kingdom than a loose network of warring clans. That changed generations earlier when invaders from the west barreled into the Untulu Sea. They gobbled up the gold and enslaved the natives. They worshipped one false god who whispered in their ears. The god convinced them that the world’s wealth was theirs for the taking. With the blood of Mulayri in their veins, the Gatdulas were the only sovereigns powerful enough to keep the invaders at bay. Hatred of the foreigners, with their pale skin and ardent greed, united Maynara. The datus pledged their loyalty to the Gatdula family in blood. They named the Gatdula heirs the paramount kings and queens of Maynara, whom they served willingly, reverently⁠—all the datus, except one.

“Before we move on to the Skylanders, I was wondering, Hara Duja, if we might take this opportunity to speak of the gold tax on foreign traders,” Imeria Kulaw said, jolting Duja from her thoughts. The men around the table stilled. Imeria needn’t raise her voice to send a pang of dread through Duja’s body. The faintest echo already promised a challenge.