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Do it, he mouths.

My mind is made up, and Meguh is a breath away from being impaled—when a commotion breaks out at the other end of the square. The crowd parts as an unmarked palanquin appears in the square, heralded by a fanfare of drums and flutes.

“Wait!”

A handsome young man steps out of the palanquin, a thick and heavy gold chain slung across his chest. Neither Adah nor I recognize him, but Meguh does, and his expression turns tight with wrath.

I loosen my grip on the pole. It seems the gods of luck have come through for Vanna after all, conjuring a royal procession out of thin air to save her.

“I am Crown Prince Rongyo of Tai’yanan,” announces the young man, slightly breathless, “and I offer my kingdom.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The prince’s announcement ripples across the marketplace. He stands there, holding out his gold chain as if to prove his title, and makes a slight bow to Adah. “I would marry your daughter,” he declares. “She will be queen.”

Adah’s jaw hangs agape, and my sister brightens, her glow seeping through the layers of her robes.

“A bit young to choose your queen, aren’t you?” King Meguh jeers. “The Lady Vanna deserves a king, not a prince. She deserves temples built in her honor. Are you sure your mother would agree to this, boy?”

“I am old enough to make my own decisions.”

Meguh persists, “What are you, fifteen years?”

“Sixteen.”

“Ah.” Meguh stretches his hand toward Adah and Dakuok. “Sixteen years old, without the blessing of his mother to make such a ludicrous offer—”

“I am the crown prince of Tai’yanan,” Rongyo says, shutting down Meguh’s taunts. He doesn’t sound like a mere boy anymore. “The only heir of the late beloved King Wan. In a year, I will be crowned. My word is good.”

Rongyo steals a glance at Vanna. He looks younger than his age, especially next to Meguh and Leidaya, who both sprout gray in their beards. A few pimples dot the prince’s boyish face, and his jaw has not finished squaring into manhood. Yet it is a pleasant face, and he seems like a pleasant young man.

If I were Vanna, I’d choose him…and on the way to his kingdom, I’d drug him with a dose of spindlebeard, steal his ship, and sail it to the far ends of Cipang or Agoria, where the lands are so vast that even destiny can be fooled.

It’s a fantasy, I know, but it feels good to hope.

Adah and Dakuok are murmuring to each other. I knot my hands together, hoping they will have the sense to accept Rongyo’s offer.

Finally, the shaman steps forward. “The crown prince of Tai’yanan offers marriage.” He turns to the first in the line of competitors. “King Tayeh, can you match the offer?”

“I would marry her, but…” Tayeh hesitates. “But, no, I cannot match Prince Rongyo’s offer.”

“King Leidaya?”

Again, no.

“King Hoa Tho?”

One by one, the suitors resign and step off the temple’s podium. All except Meguh.

“What about you, King Meguh?”

Meguh straightens. He is shorter than Rongyo but somehow seems to take up more room on the dais. Next to him, Rongyo looks like a reed. And Meguh is ready to break him.

Meguh’s voice booms, “I cannot offer marriage, but I can promise one hundred thousand golden riels.”

The buzzing in the marketplace shrivels into silence.

Dread prickles my gut. Prince Rongyo’s kingdom is rich, but not as rich as Meguh’s. Not half as rich as Meguh’s. And he is not yet the king.