Seraya awoke to the distant hum of preparations echoing beyond the curtained alcoves—the faint clatter of trays, the rustle of silks, and the ever-present whispers of ambition that filled the harem like smoke.
Two days. It had been two long, stifling days since she'd seen Lex.
But tonight… the ball.
That word alone did far more to her than she cared to admit. She might get to see him again. Maybe. Hopefully.
She remained curled beneath the light sheets, fingers absently plucking at the strings of her lute, the soft notes drifting through the room. Her traitorous heart chose a tender, romantic melody—the kind that left her chest aching, hopeful, foolish.
The illusion shattered with the sound of silk rustling and an all-too-familiar, saccharine voice.
"We can't have you lazing in bed all morning, Seraya."
Seraya's eyes snapped open, heart dropping like a stone. Lady Vera stood near the foot of her bed, her lips curved into a practiced smirk, amusement and venom braided together.
Seraya sat up, quickly setting the lute aside. "It's barely dawn," she protested, her voice still rough with sleep.
"Plenty of time for you to prepare me for the ball." Vera's gaze drifted over the room like a predator surveying its territory—until it caught on something.
The rose.
The single, blushing bloom that sat in the small vase by Seraya's bedside.
Vera's expression curdled in an instant. In two strides, she was upon her, fingers clamping around Seraya's throat like a noose.
"Where did you get that?" Vera hissed, her nails digging into soft skin.
Seraya's pulse pounded against the grip. "The garden," she choked, eyes wide in alarm.
Vera's grip tightened, manic suspicion flaring in her gaze. "Did the king give this to you?"
"No," Seraya gasped, the word rushed but sharp with truth.
Vera stared, scrutinizing every flicker of Seraya's face—the panic, the confusion, the defiance simmering beneath it all.
After a tense heartbeat, Vera loosened her hand but not the icy authority in her voice. "Which garden?"
"The… the library garden," Seraya croaked, massaging her tender throat.
Vera studied her a moment longer, her expression unreadable, then abruptly released her—as if the moment hadn't happened at all. "Come along," Vera purred, her tone falsely sweet. "We have much to do."
Seraya trailed behind, swallowing hard against the ache in her neck, her pulse still rattling through her veins. What in the seven hells was that?
Vera's jealousy, always simmering, was boiling over now. She was unraveling. The king's absence was driving her mad with paranoia.
And yet… Seraya couldn't help but think, for once, she almost wished the king would return. If only to stop these women from clawing each other to pieces.
But tonight… tonight wasn't about the king.
It was about Lex.
And somehow, Seraya knew nothing—not even Lady Vera—was going to keep her from seeing him again.