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“She has already been buried,” I lie. This is the last thing I want to discuss with my father. “She is with the gods. Let us not speak of her again.”

“Certainly,” Adah agrees quickly. He doesn’t even try to hide his relief. Then he hesitates. It is a rare moment that he bares his emotions. “I know you must think I was cruel to her,” he says in a quiet voice. “Your sister.”

I dare not breathe.

“I know it myself. Every time I saw her, I couldn’t help it. I didn’t hate her, Vanna. But what was I supposed to do, when she returned with the face of a snake demon—because of me? When her mother died, because I could not save her?”

I am silent. This might have meant something seventeen years ago, but not anymore. I offer no words of solace, no forgiveness.

In return, he buries the specter of the past. “Come with me now. Lintang is waiting for us on the ship—”

“The ship? You’re not staying?”

“No, I came only to fetch you.” Adah wrinkles his nose at our old house. “It’s time we left Sundau. I have decided we shall stay in Tai’yanan.”

“But why?” I frown. “The engagement to Prince Rongyo is dissolved.”

“Even so. We aren’t the only ones leaving. Many of our neighbors have gone already. As you should have, after that tiger witch attacked—”

“I’m staying,” I interrupt. My voice is Vanna’s, but every inflection is wrong. Vanna was never this harsh. “I will not go. I need time to grieve.”

My request puts Adah on edge. “Be reasonable. There is talk of war with Shenlani, and after what your sister did to King Meguh, they are bound to come after our family. We must take refuge in Tai’yanan.”

I don’t budge. I’m shrewder than Vanna was, and I don’t believe anything Adah says. “No one is coming after us,” I reply calmly. “Shenlani has fallen, thanks to my sister. She rid Tambu of a brutal king—and queen—and she deserves a proper mourning. I will not bend on this.”

With a grimace, Adah takes off his hat and fans himself. “How long do you require?”

“A hundred days. Maybe more.”

“What will I tell them? They’re already inquiring after you—”

Them. It takes me a moment to realize Adah doesn’t mean Lintang or Prince Rongyo, or whoever may be waiting for me in Tai’yanan. Them means the new suitors that will come clamoring for Vanna’s hand—my hand, now that it is no longer promised to Rongyo.

They’re gnats, the lot of them. As long as my heart shines like a flame, they will always be drawn to it. Nothing I can do will stop that—this is the pearl’s curse, as well as its blessing.

“Tell them I wish for ten thousand mosquito hearts on silver trays, a bridge of gold built across the Sundau Strait that leads up to the sun, a warship painted entirely with royal blood.”

Adah blanches. “Vanna!”

Vanna. I could ask for a temple of bones and still Adah would not see that I am Channi.

“Tell them to rot in the lowest Hell,” I say. “I will see no one, and I wish to be left alone. I will grieve in peace.”

Adah lifts his arm, and I instinctively brace myself to be struck, but I am even more stricken when he simply touches my shoulder. Squeezes it. “A hundred days, then. Do what you must to be happy.” A tender pause. “I’ve missed your smile, daughter.”

Against my will, my chest caves in. For so long, I’ve trained myself to not feel anything for my father, but nothing could have prepared me for this. This was what I wished for, wasn’t it? For him to finally love me and see me the way he sees Vanna.

The irony is sharper than a needle.

The next time I speak, power hums in my throat. “Do not speak to me again of suitors or of leaving Sundau.”

“Yes, daughter,” Adah says, his eyes sprinkled with silver. “It shall be as you say.”

“Good.” I pick up my broom again and resume sweeping. “Fetch Lintang. Bring her home. We will stay awhile.”

* * *

A hundred days, a hundred years. Never will I get used to waking up and realizing I have no sister to cook breakfast for. That if I want to see her smile, I will have to confront my own reflection. I cannot do it. Seeing myself brings only sorrow, and I cannot smile. My sole comfort, as the days stretch into weeks, is that every morning without fail I visit Vanna.