Page 47 of Black Salt Queen

I have not been fair to you in the past. So generous you’ve been with your promises and poems, while I’ve kept mine strapped inside my chest, hidden from view. Would you come if I asked?

These are the words you have long yearned for, Luntok. I’m finally ready for you to hear them.

All my love,

Laya

Seventeen

Duja

Duja’s hands trembled as she steadied herself on the mahogany railing that wound around the main staircase. Her body shook from more than the tremors. Imeria’s shadow followed her from the main halls. Haunting her, after all these years.

She continued, one careful step at a time, until she reached the upper floor. Night had fallen over Mariit. Moonlight slanted over the gleaming floorboards in riverlike streams. Most of the staff had retired for the evening. To Duja’s relief, a stillness had settled over the palace. The upstairs corridor leading to the royal family’s private chambers was empty, save for a serving girl, who bowed as Duja passed.

“Your Majesty,” she said. In her arms, she bore a gown of delicate indigo silk. Laya had been wearing it in the gardens earlier that day.

“How is Dayang Laya?” Duja asked. After the tournament, Laya and Bulan had had a devastating fight. Their hateful words echoed across the courtyard. Everyone in the entire palace complex heard them. Duja had tried to calm Laya down earlier that evening, but her daughter was beyond consoling.

“One of the lady’s maids saw to Dayang Laya’s bath. I assisted her,” the serving girl said. She was a scrawny thing with wan cheeks and a slight provincial accent. She must have been a recent recruit, because Duja had never seen her around the palace before.

“And?”

“The princess has been in there for hours, and she refuses to open the door.” The girl diverted her eyes to the ground, hesitating. “Pardon my frankness, Your Majesty, but we fear she might be trying to drown herself.”

Duja sighed and waved the girl off. “Go on. I’ll see to her myself.”

“As you please, Your Majesty.” She bowed again, then scurried off to the laundress.

Duja continued to the end of the corridor. Dim, yellow light shone through the slit beneath Laya’s door. Duja pressed her ear to the thick mahogany panels. On the other side, she could hear the faint sound of sniffling.

She knocked softly. “Laya, it’s Mother.”

The sniffling silenced. Then a pattern of angry footsteps echoed across the floorboards as Laya approached the door.

“What do you want?” Laya snapped, her voice muffled through the layers of wood.

“I want to speak to you,” she said. “Please let me in.”

A reluctant sigh, then Laya relented. The door creaked open. She leaned against the frame, her arms crossed. “You have my attention,” she said in the lofty tone Duja hated.

Laya could be as awful to her as she liked, but no haughty expression could hide the red splotches around her irises or the puffy bags under her eyes. The poor girl had been crying for hours. Her hair, damp from her bath, hung limply around her shoulders. She looked less like the steel-faced tyrant she pretended to be and more like a drowned rat.

“I was worried about you,” Duja said.

Laya stared back. Her bottom lip trembled. The haughty mask fell from her face like cracked stone. “Oh, Mother,” she said, crumpling as she barreled into Duja’s arms.

Duja froze, surprised. She had not seen Laya cry since she was a child. Back then, she would always run to her father for comfort?—never Duja.She still needs me,Duja realized. She softened as Laya sobbed into her chest, her tears seeping through the fine silk of her blouse.

“Hush, darling.” Duja wrapped her arms around Laya and led her into the bedroom. They sat together on the edge of the bed, and Laya sobbed in earnest.

“Mother, I don’t know what to do. I cannot bear it.” She leaned against Duja as if she no longer had the strength to hold herself up. Her body shook so violently, Duja stared at her in alarm.

“Come now. Everything will be all right.” Duja brushed the tangled waves from Laya’s face. As much as she hated to see her daughter in pain, she could not deny the warmth that spread through her chest as she held her. How long had it been since they’d embraced each other like this?

“Everything is ruined,” Laya said between ragged sobs. “Everything is ruined, and I can do nothing about it.”

Duja pursed her lips. “Is this about Luntok?”

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