“That’s Her Imperial Majesty to you,” Ai Ling said, slapping Zuri’s hands from my waist. She, Dayo, and a flock of Imperial Guards had crowded onto the dance floor. “Or Lady Empress. In that order. You would do well, King Zuri, to remember protocol.”

“Is it poison?” Dayo asked, his face crumpled with worry. “Tar, are you all right?”

“Check the king of Djbanti for weapons,” Ai Ling demanded.

I tried to object, but the vision of Thaddace was too fresh. Words stuck inside me like knives.

The Djbanti warriors clucked in protest, unsheathing concealed weapons, but Zuri barked at them to stand down.

“I did not mean to hurt her.” The young king held up his hands in surrender. But after shooting me a guilty glance, his face went blank . . . and his signature expression of vapid cheer returned. “My humor shocks our delicate sovereign,” he announced in a wine-soaked drawl. “Allow me to make amends. I relinquish my prize. Most excellent Imperial Majesty”—he bowed with a flourish—“ask me anything you like.”

My shoulders rose to my ears, where Ai Ling’s words echoed: None of the vassal rulers took you seriously. You were just a little girl to them. People can’t love someone they don’t respect.

I balled my hands into fists. When I spoke again, the lioness mask warmed at the base of my throat. I imagined a beast crouching in tall grass, and willed my words to be just as calm. Just as deadly.

“I have no questions for King Zuri of Djbanti.” I did not look at him as I spoke, but turned to mount the echo-stone on my dais, and addressed the entire hall. “The Peace Banquet is over. Your empress bids you good night.”

I turned on my heel, preparing to sweep from the room. Blood drained from a hundred faces as sprites descended from the ceiling, swarming behind me in a burning train of light. But before I could go, Dayo seized my hand.

It shouldn’t end this way, he Ray-spoke. Tonight was supposed to be about peace. Please, Tar—let me fix this.

Then to my surprise, Dayo faced our guests again, voice ricocheting from the echo-stone with uncharacteristic gravity.

“I am Emperor of Aritsar,” he began, “as Tarisai is your empress. However, I am also King of Oluwan, a title the empress could not share with me, as she represents Swana on my council. This means that Tarisai, while ruler of all Aritsar, is ruler of no single realm.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. Where are you going with this?

He only winked. “Tarisai promised the abiku she would form a council of twelve Arit rulers—one for each realm. This includes Oluwan. As a result, I proudly claim the first place on the Empress Redemptor’s council.”

Ignoring gasps and whispers, Dayo lifted a golden chain from his neck, dangling a vial of pelican oil—the same one he’d used to anoint me so long ago, in the Children’s Palace. He unlatched the vial and held it out to me. “I love the empress already,” he announced, grinning boyishly, “and so I require no more deliberation. Tarisai of Swana, will you accept me on your council?”