Chapter 14: Vera Pulls Rank

The scent of warm honey bread and spiced figs curled through the morning air in the harem quarters—a rare comfort in a place where everything else felt like a knife hidden in silk.

Seraya sat beside Jenna on a low cushioned bench, picking at a plate of fruit while trying—badly—not to smile about a certain guard. 

She shouldn't be smiling. Not here. Not now.

She shouldn't be smiling at all. Shouldn't be looking forward to anything. Her kingdom was gone. Her parents—gone. Her brother, if he was alive, might still be fighting or suffering.

And here she was, flirting with a stranger in a garden like a foolish girl at a summer festival.

But for a few moments… she'd felt light. Like her lungs could fill again. Like she wasn't drowning beneath the weight of grief.

Just one more day, she told herself.

But the thought of seeing Lex again later that day made her stomach flutter like a caged bird. His voice still echoed in her head, and his way of teasing her felt so natural. 

"You're smiling again," Jenna said, smirking over the rim of her teacup, her voice low and teasing. "I knew you'd get it eventually."

Seraya blinked. "Get what?"

Jenna waved her hand in a lazy circle. "The king. He does that to all of us, you know. Makes us hate him, then dream of him." She sighed. "It's maddening."

Seraya rolled her eyes, her smile slipping. She opened her mouth to correct her—It's not the king, it's Lex—but the words caught in her throat. She couldn't say that. Not here. Not with ears always listening.

So instead, she shrugged and said, "I guess I'm getting used to it, is all. It's not all bad."

The moment the words left her lips, a hush settled over the table—tight and brittle like a held breath.

Seraya didn't have to look to know who had heard.

"Well, well," came the silken voice of Lady Vera, slicing through the quiet like a dagger through lace. "Getting too comfortable already, are we?"

Seraya turned her head slowly.

Vera stood behind her, flanked by her usual flock of flatterers. Her golden hair was piled into an elaborate twist, and her robe shimmered like molten sapphire. She looked every bit the queen she believed herself to be.

"I've decided," Vera said airily, "you'll be my servant from now on."

Seraya blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Understanding sank in like a stone. This was retribution—a delayed punishment for what happened in the bath. Vera had waited, bided her time like a spider fattening on silence.

Seraya had thought she was being careful. That she'd been invisible enough to avoid the attention of the favorites.

But she had been wrong. Vera had been watching.

Still, Seraya couldn't keep her mouth shut. "I didn't realize the harem had servants," she said, voice smooth but steel-laced. "Aren't we all the same rank?"

The room froze.

Vera's eyes glittered with amusement, then narrowed into something sharper. "Still haven't learned your place, huh?"

She reached down and, with an exaggerated flick of her wrist, slapped Seraya's plate off the table.

The crash of porcelain silenced the room.

"She won't be eating today," Vera announced with a cruel smile.

No one moved. No one spoke.

Even Jenna didn't look at her.

That stung more than the ruined meal.

Vera was making a point—showing that her rule was absolute.

Seraya stared up at her, jaw tight, hunger evaporating beneath the burn of defiance.

"Let that be a lesson," Vera said, stepping closer until they were nearly nose to nose. "No one is coming to save you. I may as well be queen here. And the next time I come calling, you'd better answer. Or things will be worse. For you…"

Her eyes flicked to Jenna.

"And your friend."

Then she turned, silks swirling in her wake, her laughter trailing behind like perfume.

Seraya knelt to gather the shards of her plate, her cheek burning—not from humiliation, but from fury.

Jenna dropped beside her, whispering, "I thought she'd let it go. After the bath, I thought maybe you'd escaped her wrath. But she was just waiting."

"What gives her the right?" Seraya hissed.

"She's a high-ranking official's daughter," Jenna said softly. "Her father is one of King Malek's closest advisors. That gives her real power—even beyond these walls. She's been here the longest, and she knows exactly how to use fear."

"She covets the king," she added. "She tries to sabotage anyone who might get too close."

"But I haven't even been with the king," Seraya said through clenched teeth.

Jenna gave her a sympathetic look.

"Sometimes, your beauty is enough."

Seraya looked away, heat crawling up her neck.

She was being punished for a lie—for allowing others to think she was falling for the king, when the truth was so much more complicated.

"Why now?" she asked. "What changed?"

Jenna hesitated. "Maybe… she saw something. Maybe she thinks you've started to want the king. That's all it takes."

Seraya groaned inwardly. She couldn't even deny it—not without raising questions about who, exactly, was putting that smile on her face.

"But can she really withhold food like this?" she asked, standing. Her hands trembled as she reached for a ripe fig from a nearby bowl.

Before her fingers closed around it, another concubine—one of Vera's—slapped her hand away.

Seraya flinched. Not from the sting, but from the message.

The others were watching. Glaring. Waiting.

They would follow Vera—not because they believed in her, but because they feared her.

Jenna tugged her back down onto the cushion. "Don't," she whispered. "Please. Just let it pass. You're already marked. Don't make it worse."

Seraya bit the inside of her cheek, fury and helplessness churning in her gut.

She could go hungry. She could endure that.

But Vera's threat wasn't about food.

It was about control.

And now Jenna was part of it too.