CHAPTER 3

"Iloy, what are these?" I asked, gazing at the glimmering golds scattered on my mattress. There were earrings shaped like almonds and circles, necklaces of varying sizes, rings, a head comb, and tiaras, all made of gold and adorned with intricate details.

"Malaya, these are all tokens of love and admiration from the nobles and merchants who attended the ceremony and heard you sung. Your voice was the talk of the banwa this morning," Iloy beamed with pride.

I looked towards the entrance, yearning for my baba to arrive, to shower me with praise and bask in my glory. However, Iloy's next words dashed my hopes.

"Your baba, Malaya, is preoccupied. Several outsiders have come to discuss our coastal lands, attempting to persuade your baba into surrendering our sovereignty to them," she explained, though I knew exactly where my baba was - with Liwayway's iloy in her bukot. Liwayway, only three months younger than me, had somehow captured my baba's heart and he doted on her and her mother more than the vast sea the outsiders coveted. A heavy footstep beside my bukot confirmed my suspicions.

"Dayang, the Datu desires to bask in the radiance of the jewels within the confines of Bai Liwayway's bukot," the uripon murmured, bowing low to the ground. Though her face remained hidden, I could sense that she hailed from the balay of that sandil.

"Can you say that again?" My Iloy inquired, her keen ears attuned to the uripon's every word.

"The Datu yearns to feast his eyes upon the glittering treasures within Bai Liwayway's bukot," the uripon repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

My mother's nostrils flared with indignation. "How audacious of him!" she exclaimed. "These precious gifts are meant for my daughter, Malaya, not that daughter of the sandil! Does he think of me as a bird who cannot protect her own egg and can be stomped upon whenever they like?"

I comforted my mother, soothing her with gentle caresses. "Do not worry, Iloy. If they wish to partake in these bulawan, they may have their fill. We have plenty to spare. Do not let them trouble you." I murmured, slowly.

My mother glared at me, her eyes blazing with fury. "How can I remain calm when they disrespect us so? I am still the Dayang of this banwa, ruling alongside your father. That foreign sandil does nothing but play as a kiral to your baba."

As my mother continued her tirade, the uripon scurried away to the next bukot. Within moments, my baba arrived, his eyes alight with anger.

"Is it too much to ask for you to share some of your jewelry with your sister?" he spat, his finger pointing accusingly at me. I immediately knelt before him.

"Baba, I have no knowledge of what you speak," I pleaded, hoping to avoid his wrath. Though the uripon dared not fault my mother in front of him, they had no qualms about blaming me.

The complexities of our family dynamics left me feeling drained and despondent. As the eldest daughter, I had been programmed to share everything with my younger sister, even if it meant giving up something I cherished. Liwayway was my baba's favorite, a prized possession whose beauty and talent had garnered attention from faraway lands. Many dayo had come to seek her hand, but my baba had refused them all, unable to bear the thought of her being taken far away. In her stead, he offered me as a replacement, but most of the dayo refused. And so, I remained unmarried at the age of twenty, a captive in my own home.

It seemed that most dayo were of the mind that if not Liwayway, then no other would do. Some dayo were willing to accept, but Baba would decline if they didn't meet his high standards.

"Do you dare to lie, Malaya? Are you so greedy that you would keep these precious gifts to yourself without sharing them with others? Dear Bathala, what kind of daughter have I raised?" Baba's accusations cut me to the core like a blade, hurting more than any physical pain could.

"Is this how you repay the loyalty of your own flesh and blood, Datu Sulayman?" My mother's voice quivered with hurt and disappointment, her eyes welling up with tears.

"These precious offerings were bestowed upon Malaya as a gesture of friendship, yet you would wrench them away just to appease your other daughter, a mabaw? Do you not realize the pain you are inflicting upon your own kin?" A tear escaped from the corner of my eye, as I felt the weight of my mother's despair.

My Iloy truly loved my Baba. She came from the royal clan of the east, and the story goes that when Baba was traveling, he saw her and was captivated by her beauty. My Iloy nearly had an accident, but Baba saved her. She journeyed far to be with him and become his wife. However, after six years of marriage, Baba introduced a Sandil, a second wife. My Iloy's heart was filled with rage, but she could do nothing but swallow her anger