That’s Da Seo, Ai Ling Ray-spoke. The princess’s consort. Lady Da Seo lost her arms intercepting an attempt on Min Ja’s life several years ago. Afterward, Min Ja named Da Seo her equal. The Songlander court has tried to pressure Min Ja into producing an heir with a man. But she refuses. Where the princess goes, Da Seo goes.

Presently, Min Ja addressed me again. “Your mother,” she said slowly, “once controlled my baby brother. That witch made him forsake his own sister. His own family.” Her upper lip wrinkled, as though my mother’s memory tasted bitter. “But my consort’s heart is softer than mine. Da Seo reminds me that for some reason, Woo In trusted you enough to return to Songland. My brother has never been a good judge of character. Still—” She gave a begrudging sniff. “Because of you, my baby brother came home. And for that reason alone . . . Songland will consider your offer. But it won’t be my mother inside your head, Little Empress.” Min Ja flashed a mirthless smile. “It will be me.”

As the hall looked on in confusion, Min Ja gently patted her mother’s arm. The elderly queen blinked back at her sleepily.

Min Ja said, “We were going to wait to announce it. But we should tell them, Ommah.”

Hye Sun expelled a phlegmy sigh from deep in her lungs, nodded once, and reached for the thick gold pin piercing her elaborate silver top knot. She handed it to Min Ja, and with a gasp from the entire hall, the princess threaded it through her own shining dark bun.

“As Regent, I thought I could be what Songland needs,” Hye Sun croaked, seeming to summon strength for the short speech. “But these past few weeks has made one thing painfully clear—Songland does not need a doting grandmother. It needs a warrior queen. And so,” she rasped, “before this hall of witnesses, I abdicate my crown and bestow it on my daughter, Min Ja, my late husband’s chosen heir of Songland.”

Surprised murmurs filled the hall. I gaped like a fish.

I don’t like this. Ai Ling’s wary voice sprang into my mind. Tar, you weren’t planning to anoint Min Ja. It’s not too late. There’s still time to back out.

Min Ja’s gaze fixed haughtily on mine. For a moment I quailed—but then I saw another face. A young Redemptor girl, Ye Eun, scowling with agonized determination before plunging into the Oruku Breach.

The abiku may not care if I anoint Songland, I told Ai Ling. But I do.

I raised the chalice at my side to Min Ja. “To the new queen of Songland,” I said quietly. “Whom I hope to call my sister.”

Min Ja lifted her cup, expressionless as the baffled court applauded. Then she asked in her blunt, clipped voice, “If I join your council, will you require me to wed you?”

If I had been allowed to drink my palm wine, I would have choked on it.