I pulled him toward the clearing, and the rest of my party guests followed as Theo and Adukeh struck the opening bars of a joyful, infectious rhythm.

I was still terrible at the ijo agbaye. Seconds in, I had lost the beat, colliding with Sanjeet and bruising my right toe. But we were laughing so hard, I didn’t care. Theo’s musical illusion Hallow filled the air with amber gems and honey-colored butterflies that beat their wings in time to the music. Mayazatyl gyrated with Umansa and Kameron, and Min Ja forced a wobbling Uriyah into the fray. Kirah spun with Woo In, giggling as he swept her up in a glittering wind. Even Ye Eun joined the fun, bouncing a giggling Ae Ri on her hip. A short distance from everyone else, I noticed Dayo and Ai Ling, swaying as if to a melody all their own. Her jet hair had fallen out of its ornamented bun, making soft wisps around her face. When the song began to bleed into another, Ai Ling stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Dayo’s mouth. I gasped and stifled a grin, wondering if anyone else had noticed.

Startled joy washed over Dayo’s features . . . followed by regret.

“Ai Ling,” I heard him say as Sanjeet and I danced close by. “I know how you feel for me. And I feel the same for you. But—”

“I’ve had sex before,” Ai Ling said matter-of-factly. “And do you know what he said when we were done? Murmurwitch.” She sucked in a slow, shaky breath. “But . . . you’ve never said that. You’ve never even wondered. All you do, Dayo, is love the person in front of you so stubbornly, they love you back. So don’t you dare say you can’t make me happy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. Dayo swallowed hard as he stared down at her, tears pooling in his pure black eyes. Then he kissed her, laughing against her mouth, full lips parted in an incredulous smile. “I will always want you, Ekundayo of Oluwan,” Ai Ling said when they parted, tracing his burn scar. “And I will never ask for more than you want to give.”

Another song ended. Min Ja clapped her hands, gesturing for a retinue of Songlander attendants who waited on the sidelines.

“In celebration of my little sister’s eighteenth birthday,” she said, smirking at me, “my retinue has prepared something special. May I present the famed dancers of Eunsan-do Court.”

And don’t worry, she Ray-spoke, eyes twinkling. They’re not going to kill anybody . . . this time.

I laughed, and then joined the court in clapping to the beat as veiled dancers took to the clearing, fluttering fans as musicians played a mélange of strings. But at a break in the music, Min Ja stepped forward again. She laid a blanket on the grass, then a small brush, a bowl of ink, and a long, wide roll of paper.

“Da Seo has a present too,” she told me, then stepped back. “A blessing for the empress.”