Kirah bit her lip. Queen Hye Sun hasn’t been the same since her son Woo In disappeared. She’s a little better, now that she knows he’s alive—but they say she’s still a husk of her former glory. And Min Ja is— Kirah sucked in a breath. . . . a puzzle. She’s barely ten years older than us. Yet she’s the sole heir to the Songlander throne. Even over Woo In.

That’s weird, commented Dayo, cocking his head. Don’t Songlander dynasties usually pass from father to son? They don’t even include daughters in their genealogies. Hye Sun only ruled as a widow regent. Why would the throne go to Min Ja instead of Woo In?

Woo In’s a Redemptor, I pointed out. Perhaps that made Hye Sun nervous.

Ai Ling said: Woo In wasn’t Hye Sun’s first male child.

An ominous chill pricked at my neck. He wasn’t?

There were seven total, Ai Ling continued to Ray-speak, after an unsettled pause. Seven healthy sons, all older than Min Ja and Woo In. But something happened. None of my spies in Songland can be sure, but . . . it’s widely spoken that when she was younger, Min Ja murdered her own brothers.

The crown princess of Songland appeared to be relishing the silence. She drew a gold-tipped nail around the rim of her chalice, causing a low, resonant whistle. At last she smiled tightly and said, “Your empire admitted to massacring thousands of Songlander children. Your council has hurried to facilitate reparations,” she acknowledged, nodding at Ai Ling and Kirah. “A process that I intend to be painful, especially to Aritsar’s bottomless treasury. But as far as I’m concerned, our business ends there. The abiku asked you to form a council of Arit rulers. Songland is not part of the Arit empire, nor shall it ever be. So why,” she asked with that cold, coy contempt, “are we here?”

“You are here,” I replied, “because your people have gone centuries without a voice on the continent. I won’t pressure you to join the empire. I won’t try to rule you. But it’s time Songland had a seat at the table.”

Min Ja examined me for several moments, her expression inscrutable. “How noble,” she monotoned. “Unfortunately, I don’t believe in heroines. Not even pretty ones, who go on suicidal joyrides across Aritsar on giant magical leopards. How do I know this isn’t just another Kunleo ruse? A trick to gain control of my people again.”

“I’ll have no power over Her Majesty.” I nodded shyly at the old Queen Hye Sun, who blinked back at me with rheumy, absent eyes. “And she can make sure of that. If the queen joins my council, after all, we’ll be bonded in mind and body. She’ll have access to my thoughts. My dreams. I couldn’t keep secrets from her—not easily, anyway.”

Min Ja appraised me severely, until the beautiful young woman beside her whispered in her ear. She looked Min Ja’s age, with the fat figure coveted by Oluwani court ladies. Brown eyes twinkled over floral lace, which masked the bottom half of her full, flushed face. As the woman spoke, Min Ja looked chastened, eyeing her companion with annoyed vulnerability. When the woman gestured, I blinked in surprise. Pink sleeves fell back to reveal amputated arms, severed and scarred over just below the elbow.