Seraya's skin still tingled as she crossed back into the concubine quarters, her steps lighter than they had any right to be.
It was stupid. She knew that. One half-hour, one conversation with a stranger, and she was practically floating. But Lex had seen her. Not as property or pawn. Not as a prize to be consumed. Just… her. Sarcastic, blunt, guarded her. And he hadn't recoiled.
He'd smiled.
She clutched that memory close as she pushed open the carved wooden doors, the warmth of the sun behind her replaced by the cool disdain of palace life.
It didn't take long for reality to strike.
"Seraya."
Matron Miriam's voice slithered from the shadows like a snake's tongue.
Seraya turned, jaw already tensing.
The matron stood near the staircase, arms folded, her expression carved in smugness. "Since you've decided to grace us with your presence, I thought you might like to make yourself useful. The garden silks need washing. And the marble needed a polish this morning, didn't it? Funny how it hasn't been done."
Translation: I saw your good mood and came to ruin it.
Seraya offered a tight smile. "Of course. I'd hate to disrupt the shine."
The matron's lip curled in satisfaction. "Good girl."
She turned and slithered off.
Seraya made her way toward the servants' alcove, grabbing the cleaning supplies with practiced indifference. She wouldn't give Miriam the pleasure of seeing her sulk.
Not today.
On her way back, she passed several of the favorites lounging on cushions, painting their lips and adjusting jeweled chains across bare shoulders. Perfume hung thick in the air, and gossip thicker.
One girl leaned close to another and whispered just loud enough, "Oh look the little reject has found her place, scrubbing the floors."
Seraya gripped the mop handle tighter.
A round of smug laughter followed. Seraya didn't flinch. She just kept scrubbing, her fingers raw but her spine straight.
Let them play dress-up. Let them chase scraps of attention. She had something else—a spark that had nothing to do with the king, and everything to do with a guard who had teased her until she almost smiled.
By the time she returned to her corner of the concubine quarters, the sky was a deep violet outside the windows. Her bedroll was where she'd left it—thin and unadorned, a stark contrast to the plush beds of the inner chambers.
Jenna was already sitting nearby, legs tucked beneath her. She looked up as Seraya approached, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
"You look…" Jenna tilted her head. "Not miserable. Should I be concerned?"
Seraya gave a light laugh and crouched beside her. "Don't get used to it."
Jenna raised a brow but didn't press. Instead, she reached behind her and pulled out a long, cloth-wrapped bundle.
"I have something for you."
Seraya blinked. "What?"
"I remembered what you said—back when you first came. That you used to play."
She unwrapped the cloth, revealing the smooth, golden wood of a lute.
Seraya's breath caught.
It was beautiful. Delicately carved, with silver strings and a body that gleamed like starlight. Her fingers trembled as she reached for it.
"You got this… for me?"
Jenna smiled shyly. "I had a favor to call in."
Seraya's eyes narrowed, suspicion blooming. "A favor? From who?"
Jenna hesitated. "It came from the king."
Silence fell like a stone.
Of course.
Gifts didn't just appear here. Not for girls like her. Not without strings attached.
She pulled her hand back, guilt and pride warring in her chest. Her first instinct was to shove it away. To snap the strings and leave it outside the matron's door like a curse.
But then she remembered Lex.
The teasing gleam in his eye. The way he had offered his arm, not his orders. The way he'd whispered against her ear.
And for the first time, the thought of the king didn't feel so entirely suffocating.
She traced the edge of the lute, her voice soft. "I should hate it."
"I know," Jenna said. "That's why I asked for it. You'd never get one otherwise."
Seraya looked up at her, heart tight.
It was… thoughtful. And selfless. Jenna could've asked for jewelry. A new silk robe. A higher placement on the nightly lists. But she had asked for this.
For Seraya.
"You're ridiculous," Seraya said, though her voice cracked at the edges.
Jenna grinned. "I know."
Seraya finally let her fingers rest on the strings. They vibrated beneath her touch, familiar and foreign all at once.
"Thank you," she whispered.
For the first time in weeks, she didn't feel like she was suffocating.