[The Twenty-Third Year of Raja Silay's Reign. Sixteen Years Later.]
MANILA, 1504
YUMI
To the lively rhythm of the strings, every flick and flourish of my hands was matched by the swaying of the silk wrap around my waist. In the midst of the merrymaking guests, and before the esteemed Raja himself, I performed the dance that Ilay had taught me.
The jars overflowed with rice wine, and the music and laughter of the Raja's warriors and visitors echoed in the air. The joy on their faces and their lighthearted conversations reflected the prosperity and peace of the empire.
Dayang Marikit tirelessly refilled the Raja's bowl with wine as she joined the cheerful banter of the visiting datus.
Beside the Raja sat, in silence, the commander of the war army—the Raja's younger sister and the current Lakambini (Princess) of Manila—Alon.
---
"This wine is delightful, Your Majesty. Rarely do you serve drink of such fine quality. I take it this is a special occasion, my dear Raja?" teased Datu Kilaw, the governor of Tabi, a tribe on the eastern side of Maynila that managed the trading ships docking in and out of the islands. His tribe held the empire's largest marketplace—it was the capital of commerce itself.
When I turned my head to the left, I caught sight of the princess In that fleeting glance, I saw boredom etched on her face. Her cold eyes, her furrowed brows, and the way she sipped her wine slowly—all betrayed her irritation. When the Raja smiled at Datu Kilaw's remark, her expression darkened even more.
"So you've noticed, Kilaw," the Raja replied cheerfully before turning to his sister. He gave her a light tap on the shoulder, but she neither moved nor spoke. "I have an important announcement—"
The princess abruptly set her bowl down with a loud thud, silencing the music and halting my performance. Her cold gaze cut through the noise as she rose to her feet.
"Forgive me, my Raja, but I feel unwell. If you would permit, I wish to retire to my chambers," she said politely.
The hall fell silent; the feast paused. Everyone knew the *Lakambini* had no desire to marry. She was known as a warrior of unmatched skill—despite her gender—and no man in Maynila dared court her, for she had vowed to wed only one who could defeat her in combat. To this day, none had succeeded.
Before the Raja could respond, the princess turned on her heel to leave. Dayang Marikit blanched at the Raja's displeasure.
"M-My lord," she stammered softly, "forgive her—she has just returned from the north. Alon came home from war only today; perhaps she simply needs to rest."
I watched the *Lakambini* as she walked away, carrying her bolo and bow. She was still clad in her battle attire, stripped only of her armor. She had arrived at dusk, bloodstained and bearing fresh wounds. Like her brother, the Raja, she was admired throughout Maynila—renowned among women for her strength and beauty, rivaling even the radiance of the Moon God himself.
The Raja closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. When he opened them, he gestured for the celebration to continue. The music, laughter, and chatter resumed as though nothing had happened.
I glanced once more toward the *Lakambini* until she vanished from sight.
"Perhaps this isn't the right time to announce the matter to all of Maynila," the Raja said with a forced laugh.
"Whatever this news is, it must be great indeed, Your Majesty," said Datu Taka, the ruler of Sibol, the southern tribe of the empire.
The Raja's lips curled into a faint smile. "Perhaps. But I must admit, my sister and I still disagree on it. For now, let us leave it be. I'll need more time to persuade her."
"As you wish, my Raja," replied Datu Pangil of Ligaw, the western tribe, with a smile.
As was proper, I continued dancing quietly, my gaze fixed upon the Raja and his consort. Each glance at his joyful face left a bitter taste at the back of my tongue. Each burst of his laughter pierced my ears like a blade. More than once I had to close my eyes to hide my grimace—and if not for the veil covering my lower face, the guests would surely have noticed.
At last, the moment I awaited came—the change of performer. The Raja had risen from his seat earlier and had yet to return. Only the Dayang remained to entertain the guests.
---
"Yumi," called Lira, the chief musician and my dearest friend, pulling me aside into a quiet corner. After glancing around to make sure no one was near, she faced me squarely. "Don't do anything rash."
Her tone carried a warning, but I had heard it too many times to still feel fear. I nodded and smiled faintly as I removed the cloth from my face.
"You have my word, Lira. I won't do anything foolish," I said, half-assured.
She stared at me in doubt, sighed, and gently patted my shoulder. "I understand—but please, don't put yourself in danger. I'll be the one scolded by our dance master if she learns you came instead of Ilay."
I couldn't help but smile. I nodded again, and she rolled her eyes before turning away. "Go on. You're running out of time. And remember—if anyone asks, your name is Ilay, chief dancer from the troupe of performers from Ibaloi."
---
**✦ ✦ ✦**
"My decision is final, dear brother. I will not marry any man, no matter his rank or kingdom. You are my elder and my Raja—I obey all your commands… but not this one."
Outside the Raja's chamber, I froze, overhearing the princess' firm voice. I looked around to make sure no one was near and then leaned closer to listen.
"Alon…" the Raja's tone softened. "You are the only heir left to Maynila. You cannot die—"
"I never agreed to be your heir, my Raja."
I clenched my fists at her words, my throat tightening, my eyes growing wet.
"By the laws of the empire, only a son of the Raja may inherit the throne—"
"I abolished that law long ago, Alon!"
"Even so, I was born under the old decree. That is the law I will honor until my death—"
"Alon!"
The Raja's shout was followed by the crash of shattering objects. I heard his heavy breathing fill the silence between them.
"You… you are my heir! You are the princess of the empire, the commander of my army! You are the strongest in all these lands—strong enough to rival the Goddess of War herself! How long will you let Father's rejection haunt you?"
My brow furrowed. Everyone knew the princess' distaste for marriage, but none knew the reason behind it.
I pondered what I had heard.
So, her refusal to wed came from her resentment toward the late Raja. Her rejection of the throne was her act of rebellion.
From my sixteen years of study, I had learned this: the *Lakambini* was the second child of the late Raja Mulaw. He had longed for another son, but the Dayang bore a daughter instead. Disappointed, he refused to acknowledge her and denied her affection. Yet she rose to fame as a formidable warrior, defeating the Raja's greatest armies. Still, despite her glory, she could never win her father's approval.
"There is no hatred…" the princess said quietly. "It was my sin to be born a daughter of the Raja's blood."
The Raja exhaled heavily. "Think carefully, Alon. Your thirtieth birthday is next month. It's not too late to break the curse—"
"My Raja," she interrupted. "If your doubts still concern the last witch, I assure you there is no need. As long as I lead the witch-hunters, she will never step out of her lair.
The night grows deep. At dawn, I must return to Tondo. Forgive me if I cannot stay to celebrate this grand occasion, but I must rest."
"I understand," the Raja said after several sighs. "Forgive my intrusion."
"Think nothing of it, my Raja. Now, if you'll excuse me."
---
I rushed behind a pillar near the raised floor when I heard the princess' footsteps. The ledge was narrow, so I hid carefully in the shadows. I had been so caught up in listening that I lost my chance to escape.
She stepped out of the chamber, pausing as if deep in thought. My heart pounded when she turned her gaze toward my direction. I held my breath, ducking quickly, exhaling slower than the ripple of water in the nearby stream.
I had come to observe the Raja's state after sixteen years—not to overhear words that would unearth my buried rage and sorrow. I had made a mistake. I should have stayed in the great hall.
Their conversation replayed in my mind: *the last mambabarang... the curse...
It echoed endlessly. I knew it wasn't yet time to act, but my blood burned with restlessness.
No. Not yet.
I am not ready…
I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears threatening to spill. I had to calm myself. I could not let my emotions overtake reason tonight.
Then—
"Dancer," a voice said.
I turned sharply toward the sound. There, only a few steps away, stood the very person I was hiding from—the princess herself.
Shock froze me. I stumbled backward, my foot slipping off the edge of the platform. I would have fallen had she not caught my arm in time.
Without effort, she pulled me close, her arm circling my waist to steady me. My hands clutched her arm instinctively, and even under the dim torchlight, her beauty glimmered like a star in the night sky.
My heart pounded violently as the realization struck me—
I had been caught… by the princess