Page 76 of Black Salt Queen

Warmth crawled up Imeria’s neck and spread across her cheeks. “Do you regret it?” she asked.

“No,” Duja said. She sounded sure of herself for the first time. “Truly, I don’t.”

Imeria wanted nothing more than to accept Duja’s reassurance, but she couldn’t quell the doubt that continued to simmer deep within her gut. “What about the?—the others?”

Duja frowned. “What others?”

“You know,” she said, tearing her gaze away.“Them.”

She couldn’t bring herself to name a single one of Duja’s growing band of suitors. Their numbers had doubled since the previous season when the princess had turned eighteen, an endless parade of arrogant men who deigned to think themselves worthy of Maynara’s beloved princess. Imeria glowered each time a guard interrupted her walks with Duja to announce yet another gentleman’s visit. These men thought they could win Duja’s heart by regaling her with overblown tales of their own excellence. Only one had come close?—the young and beguiling Aki Tanglaw, whose gift for storytelling constituted a magic of its own. At first, Imeria had dismissed Aki as an unremarkable boor, no different from the stream she watched strut through the halls of the palace. Then she noticed how Duja’s eyes sparkled when she looked at him?—the same way Duja was looking at her from the opposite side of the bed.

The princess softened when she reached out to cup Imeria’s face. “Who else could I possibly be thinking about right now?”

Imeria fought the urge to melt against Duja’s touch. Instead, she leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.

Duja sighed in contentment. She ran her fingers through Imeria’s hair and pulled her closer. Imeria’s stomach fluttered?—Duja had never reached for her before. The princess was too hesitant, too inhibited, too afraid of her own wanting. It was always Imeria who had to reel her in.

They folded into each other, skin flush against skin. Duja’s fingers trailed from Imeria’s hair to the swell of her breast. They continued their journey downward, pausing at the apex between her thighs. Out of instinct, Imeria parted them. Duja slid her hand into the wetness there, teasing Imeria with slow, languid strokes.

Imeria moaned wantonly at the princess’s touch. Her hips bucked against her hand. Duja didn’t need to guess what her companion wanted. Imeria made her desires abundantly clear; she wanted anything Duja was willing to give her. She wantedmore.

Lovingly, Duja complied. She slipped a finger inside Imeria’s slick channel. Then a second. Then a third. Imeria closed her eyes. Her back arched off the pillows. Duja’s hand began to pump inside her at an exquisite rhythm. Imeria drew in a sharp breath before losing all sense of restraint.

“Please,” Imeria chanted over and over, like the prayers of a blessed shaman.Please, please, please.

Duja buried her face in the crook of Imeria’s neck. She continued her ministrations. The angle of her hand shifted. Her fingers plunged deeper, hitting a spot inside Imeria that sent her over the edge. She climaxed with a strangled gasp, wave after wave of pleasure surging through her body.

Moments after Imeria floated down from her high, Duja leaned over and pressed her mouth to hers. Imeria sighed against her warm, tender lips. To lie with Duja was to steal a slice of divinity from the gods. If loving her was an offense in Maynara’s eyes, so be it.

This,Imeria thought as she coiled into Duja’s embrace.This is why they want to keep us apart.

As Imeria deepened the kiss, footsteps thudded from down the hall. Both girls froze. Faint laughter echoed through the thin walls of the eastern wing?—the queen. Duja’s mother was making her way upstairs. It sounded like she had just returned from her trip to the southern provinces, and, judging by the deep male voice Imeria could hear all the way from the guest chamber, she had brought her consort with her.

They shot up from the bed, scrambling to find their clothes in the tangled sheets.

“I thought you said she wasn’t coming back until tomorrow evening,” Imeria hissed as she forced her arms through the long, cumbersome sleeves of her blouse. The old queen had accepted Imeria as a member of the royal household, but the terms of the Kulaws’ surrender were painfully clear. Imeria remained the daughter of a traitor. She could never marry Duja. She could never know her this intimately. The only reason they ended up in the eastern wing was because it was supposed to be empty.

“She must have returned early,” Duja whispered, tight-lipped, as she pulled her skirt up over her hips.

When they were both dressed, Duja crept over to the door. It gave a loud, condemning creak when she opened it. Imeria leaned heavily against the wall, her heart hammering as they exchanged a nervous glance. They remained still for one agonizing moment, waiting to be discovered. But the queen’s light, unhurried footsteps continued to resonate from the upper floor. The consort was still with her. He called out to the queen, his voice muffled through the floorboards so that Imeria couldn’t understand him. He must have said something clever, because the queen laughed once again. Imeria let out a sigh of relief. No one was coming for them.

Duja grabbed her wrist. As quietly as they could, they darted across the corridor and down the stairs. The hard soles of their sandals clacked against the smooth tile, but they managed not to call any attention to themselves. Imeria followed Duja to the lower level, and they snuck out the way they had come?—through an oft-forgotten side entrance reserved for scullery maids and armored guardsmen.

With enough distance between them and her mother, Duja let out a sigh of relief. “We ought to be more careful next time,” she said, patting down her mussed hair as she cast a wary glance over her shoulder.

“Next time?” Imeria’s lips stretched into a knowing grin.

Duja turned red as a beet. “No?—I mean, I didn’t mean to presume?—”

Before the princess could talk herself into a stupor, Imeria kissed her again, pressing her against the cool stone of the outer wall. But rather than sigh against Imeria’s lips, Duja stiffened. She braced her hands against Imeria’s collarbone and pushed her away.

“You can’t do that,” she said sternly. “Not here.”

Imeria’s throat clenched. “Yes. My apologies, Dayang.” She could not keep the bitterness from seeping into her tone as she stepped back, shame heating her ears. Roughly, she brushed past Duja and made a beeline for the courtyard.

Duja groaned and ran to catch up with her. “Imeria, wait,” she said, and grabbed her hand.

Imeria wrenched her hand back as if burned. “You can’t be like this, Duja?—loving one moment, hateful the next,” she said, tears threatening to spill out from the corners of her eyelids. “You’re cruel to me. It’s not fair.”

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