"Here," Jenna said gently, placing a folded bundle of silk in Seraya's arms. "It's not the finest in the palace, but it'll do for now. You'll get better garments once the king summons you."
Seraya didn't miss the quiet weight of that final word. Once.
Jenna's kindness was a balm—soft and unexpected in a world that had ripped her from everything she loved. The woman's steady presence had been the only thing keeping Seraya grounded since she arrived.
The garment was a muted blue, simple compared to the jewel tones she'd seen earlier, but the fabric was still rich against her fingertips.
"Thank you," Seraya murmured, trying to smooth the tremble in her voice.
"You've been… very kind."
Jenna smiled, brushing a curl behind Seraya's ear. "We all remember our first days. You just looked like you could use a friend."
Seraya nodded, swallowing the emotion that threatened to rise.
Jenna helped her fasten the robe, wrapping the sash snugly around her waist, then moved behind her to tend to her hair. "Sit, let me."
Seraya sat on a low cushioned stool. Jenna's fingers were gentle but skilled, working oil through her long, dark hair and weaving it into a loose braid.
"Most of the women like to wear their hair down, but that tends to… draw attention," Jenna said lightly. "Braids are safer if you're not looking to compete."
"Compete?" Seraya asked.
Jenna's hands stilled for a moment. "You'll see."
________________________________________________________________________
They walked down a curved corridor that led into the dining hall reserved for the lower-ranked consorts. The room was lovely, with hanging lanterns casting a golden warmth across the space. But there was no mistaking the divide.
The upper tier of the hall boasted carved chairs, servants standing at attention, and golden plates that shimmered with sweets and delicacies. Below them, at floor level, were long rows of silk floor mats where Seraya and Jenna joined the other women of lesser favor.
Seraya sat cross-legged, adjusting her robes, her eyes scanning the room. The silks everyone wore were beautiful—but not equal. Some were brighter, some adorned with embroidery, others paired with shimmering sashes or glittering bangles.
Even here, in this so-called sanctuary, the king's favor dictated everything.
"I see you're observing the… hierarchy," Jenna said quietly.
"I'm trying to understand the rules," Seraya admitted.
Jenna nodded. "Simple enough. The more the king notices you, the higher you climb. Gifts, silks, jewels, privileges. Everything trickles down from his gaze."
Just then, a woman with thick lashes and glossy curls flounced past them with exaggerated flair. She settled nearby with a theatrical sigh, extending her arm to brush back her hair and flash a glittering gold hairpin encrusted with pearls.
"Lady Tabitha," Jenna whispered under her breath, eyes lowered.
"Can't believe they're seating me here," Tabitha said to no one in particular. "After bearing his child, I'd think I'd earn more than boiled fish and a floor mat."
Another woman scoffed nearby. "One child doesn't make you royalty."
Tabitha turned, eyes gleaming. "It's not just a child. It's his child. And this"—she lifted the hairpin into the light—"was a personal gift. A token of his gratitude. I'd like to see you earn anything besides crumbs."
Several women glanced down, embarrassed or quietly fuming. Seraya felt heat rising to her cheeks—but whether it was anger or shame, she wasn't sure.
Then a hush fell over the room.
Vera swept in like a storm in scarlet. Her crimson silks clung to her figure, the sleeves trimmed in gold thread, her hair coiled high and pinned with no less than seven ornate hairpins—each one glittering like a prize.
"Talking about gifts, are we?" Vera's voice sliced through the quiet like a blade.
Tabitha's mouth opened. Closed.
"Boasting about one hairpin," Vera continued. "Darling, if that's all it took to impress him, the rest of us would be queens by now."
Laughter rippled through the women, nervous and obedient.
Seraya watched it all, her stomach twisting. This was their life? Scrambling for jewels and scraps of attention?
They can keep their silks and baubles, Seraya thought bitterly. I could think of nothing worse than bearing that man a child.
She didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until Jenna's hand tensed beside her.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between them.
Seraya looked over, and Jenna was staring at her lap, lips pressed in a tight line.
"I didn't mean—" Seraya started.
"It's all right," Jenna said quickly, too quickly. "You don't have to explain."
But the warmth between them had dimmed, just slightly.
Seraya stared down at her bowl, appetite gone. She realized then that survival here didn't just mean dodging cruelty. It meant learning to muzzle herself. She couldn't afford to alienate the only friend she had.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Is there a garden here?"
Jenna glanced up, surprised—but grateful for the change in tone. "There is. Just beyond the eastern wing. Come on, I'll show you."
As they rose and left the hall behind, Seraya knew one thing for certain: silence would be her shield in this place. Until she could find something sharper.