Page 29 of Black Salt Queen

Her gut clenched at Gulod’s words. She forced herself not to look away.

The wood of the divan creaked as he perched forward. The truth fell from his lips. “I believe the Kulaw power has risen once again. I believe you possess the spark that rose from the embers. And I believe precioso is the tinder you need to stoke the flame.”

Imeria’s breath hitched in her throat. She held his gaze. “Drugs that can enhance abilities the world hasn’t seen in centuries. How on earth did you come up with that?” she said coolly. She thought herself a gifted liar, but Gulod saw straight through her.

“Do you find me fanciful?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Her lips tightened. “I think you’re a fool.”

“Ah, but I’m not a fool, Imeria. And neither are you.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure none of the servants were within earshot, then lowered his voice. “I have resources, Datu Kulaw. And if you’re planning what I think you’re planning, you can’t rely on precioso alone. You’re going to need powerful friends.”

Her fingers tingled with anticipation. She tried to calm herself by smoothing out her skirt. “Careful, Datu Gulod,” she warned. “It sounds like you’re offering far more than friendship.”

Gulod set down his wineglass, the teasing gone from his tone. “I’m offering you my assistance, Imeria. You’ll need it, I think.”

“And what makes you think I can’t manage on my own?”

“Because you are one woman, and the most abhorred datu at that,” he told her candidly. “Power, gods blessed or not, means nothing without allies?—and I can procure anything you need.”

She frowned. His offer was tempting, but she didn’t understand it. “Why would you help me at all, Namok? You’re not known for your generosity.”

Gulod’s grin widened. “Allyship is a two-way street. I expect you’ll find some way to repay the favor when you are queen.”

She understood now. The Gatdulas had never held the Gulods in the highest regard. Their kadatuan sat too far to the south: their trade routes, their people, all in uncomfortably close proximity to the Kulaws. Long before the rebellion, the Gatdulas ignored the Gulods’ pleas for newer roads and stronger defenses?—all out of fear the Kulaws would co-opt those resources for their own gain. The money went instead to the Tanglaws, to the Lumas, families with already-thriving kadatuans and no need for the capital’s generosity. Over the years, the Gatdulas had driven the Gulods away with their blatant biases and casual neglect. Datu Gulod was wise to seek a kinder ally on the throne?—one who would shower his kinsfolk with favors and line his coffers with gold. But he was wrong in assuming it would be Imeria.

A chill spread through her body. “It was never my intention to install myself as sovereign,” she said. Never before had she dared utter her own treasonous thoughts aloud. In truth, Imeria could not place herself on the throne, even if she genuinely wanted to.

None could refute the fact that she had been exiled along with Duja’s brother, the forgotten prince. Although Duja hadn’t ordered Imeria to leave the realm, the queen’s decision to banish them both from the capital had undeniable significance. It meant that Imeria Kulaw could not be trusted. That she was no different from her traitorous father?—no different from Pangil, whose name few Maynarans dared utter, even after all this time. Already, she’d wasted countless years in an effort to shake off the accursed association. So she knew better than to try.

Surprise flickered over Gulod’s face. “Then, pray tell, what was your intention?”

“Luntok,” she murmured. “That honor should go to him.”

“Your boy?” Gulod leaned back in his seat, unconvinced. “He’s awfully young.”

“Young, but beloved. You saw how they looked at him after the tournament today.” Pride swelled in Imeria’s chest once more when she remembered how the crowd had worshipped him.

Gulod’s brow furrowed in confusion. “If all you want is to put Luntok on the throne, why not have him marry Laya? They seem to like each other enough.”

Her expression hardened. “Hara Duja would never allow that to happen.”

“Are you certain? Because marriage is much easier to negotiate than a coup.”

Imeria shook her head. Although the rebellion was long over, it was futile to try to negotiate the terms her family had agreed to after they’d surrendered. Twenty-two years earlier, Hara Duja made it painfully clear that the Gatdulas would have no affiliation with the Kulaws and their ungodly bloodright. It didn’t matter if Imeria threw herself at her feet and begged Duja to let her stay. Imeria’s own naive words came back to her.Turn me out and push me away. I am your heart, Duja, always.

“If we want the throne, we must force Hara Duja out ourselves,” she said in a hollow voice. “It is the only way.”

“And what of Dayang Laya? Do you plan to expel her as well?” Gulod stroked his chin.

Imeria glowered. She would exterminate the entire Gatdula bloodline from the earth if she could, but Laya?—Laya was a brash, empty-headed girl, but she was not her mother.

“Let me deal with her when the time comes,” she told him. Imeria would restore her son’s title and birthright. If everything went to plan, she would be able to grant Luntok his princess too.

Twelve

Laya

Once the others had eaten breakfast and gone off on their own agendas, Laya followed Bulan to the upper terrace, where she stood looking over the palace gates and the long, narrow canal that flowed down to the giant balete tree at the heart of the city. She was fuming in silence, her shoulders hiked up to her ears.

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