❖ QUEENKILLER, KINGMAKER Book 2 ❖
A year has passed since Isla rescued Tam Mai from the dungeons, but her sister's mind is still trapped and broken. There is only one person Isla knows can help her.
Meanwhile across the sea, a prince seeks justice f...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Eight magnificent creatures had Kiet for his mother captured from the heart of the nameless woods; one every year since his sixteenth namesday. The only exception had been during his third-and-twentieth year—the year he spent in Anglioc—though that had quickly been rectified by his capture of the mooncat the following blooming season. The rarest, deadliest beast he had yet to find, and also his grandest and final gift for his mother.
Now all her creatures were from her menagerie released; purchased by rich collectors, scattered to seas and rivers and mountains and forests across the realm, or lost to the city and skies.
He thought his hunting days were over, yet there he was once again, deep in the nameless woods. But now it was his father's tent erected across his, made of silver curtains rimmed in black. A silhouette of the royal capradon was printed upon each downturned wing of the tent, the beast's head and ever-branching horns fluttering upon the flag capping its peak.
Kiet's own tent was far less grand in comparison. Silver and blue. They were the colours of his maternal House; so long had he worn them he had grown attached to the combination. Perhaps it was time to reclaim them from his mother.
'Can't sleep?' Akai had wandered from the campfire bridging the five royal tents to pass him a tankard of wine.
Kiet took the drink, watched over the men keeping warm by the fire. He avoided it himself—it was already hot and humid enough as it is, especially with spring nipping at their heels. Neither were any of his family present. His father had passed out the moment his tent had been assembled, Khaisan kept himself busy with a handful of serving girls in the privacy of his own tent; the other two belonged to Persi and his younger brother, Andhika—though Kiet had seen neither since they arrived that afternoon.
'The hunt begins early at dawn,' warned Akai.
'Gods, you sound like my mother.'
'What troubles you, maharaj?'
'Nothing.'
His eyes trailed south, where beyond the trees and further scatter of tents lay the road to the Water Palace.
Akai sniffed. 'I can catch up to the academy instructor and your dhayang if you wish. See them safely through.'
'Nonsense. They'd be at the Water Palace already by now.' Isla had used the Blooming Season Hunt as an opportunity to visit her friend at the so-named palace. At least that was what she claimed; but Kiet knew by now the way that duplicitous mind of hers worked.
She must have acquired it from Chei. It had been months now since Sindhu confirmed her parentage. Somehow he had managed to trace Alain back to a small fishing town in Djatiswara, where he had assumed his wife's family name, and from there did Sindhu find records of both Isla and her sister's births. Funny how Chei never had to raise her to pass on her affinity for scheming.
Kiet played now with the chain around his neck, the copper wire caging Isla's bloodrune cold against his chest.
She knew the hunting party would—before returning to Kathedra—dine and rest at the Water Palace, and she only looked for the excuse to test Judhistir's mind where he least would suspect.
