South Residence
The moon shone brightly above the palace gardens.
Kharivanpa stepped quietly outside her chamber. The South Residence was silent. The only sound came from the chirping of crickets.
She wandered slowly through the palace grounds, admiring the scenery. Eventually she reached the pond. The moon's reflection shimmered on the water like silver.
Khari sat on the wooden dock, lost in thought. They were finally in the palace; the place she tried so hard not to let her family enter. She knew once inside it'd be hard to find a way out. Hope had begun escaping her, but not entirely. She was sure there was something she could do to save them from that cruel fate. But what?
Behind her, someone cleared his throat. "The moon looks beautiful tonight."
Khari turned sharply.
King Bazi stood behind her.
Alone.
She immediately bowed. "Good evening, Your Majesty."
"Good evening."
"I apologize," she said quickly. "I did not realize you were there."
"There is nothing to apologize for," the king said gently, "I should apologize instead for disturbing your thoughts."
Khari smiled politely. "This land belongs to you, my king."
Bazi shook his head. "No. Everything belongs to the gods. I am merely another subject."
Khari lifted her head slightly. "Your humility surpasses mine, Your Majesty."
The king smiled. "You may raise your head. It is only the two of us."
Khari looked up.
Bazi stepped closer.
His expression shifted.
"I have heard stories of strangers who resemble each other perfectly despite having no relation."
He studied her face.
"You are the living image of someone I once knew."
Khari tilted her head. "I hope that is a compliment."
"Oh, it is." Bazi chuckled softly. "She was my best friend. We grew up together. Her hair was the longest in the kingdom. She had a terrible temper—but she forgave quickly. And her laughter…" He smiled wistfully, "It was dreadful. But contagious."
Khari smiled politely, "She sounds wonderful."
"She was life itself." Bazi's voice softened. "She is the reason I created the law of death masks. So that the faces of the departed are never forgotten."
"Yes."
"When she died…" His voice faltered slightly, "I wanted to remember her forever. But I was too late."
He looked at Khari again.
"When I see you…" He exhaled slowly, "I feel as though she is still here."
Khari bowed. "I am honored."
Bazi hesitated.
"Kharivanpa… may I ask you a favor? You may say no."
"What is it, Your Majesty?"
"Would you allow the royal painters to make your portrait?"
Khari blinked. "My portrait?"
"Yes. And afterward… a mask."
"A death mask?"
Bazi laughed. "You do not need to die first."
Khari laughed nervously. "What would the royal family say?"
"You underestimate yourself," Bazi replied. "You possess the face of a remarkable woman."
Khari felt strangely touched.
"Before your sister's wedding," he continued, "your portrait will be finished."
She bowed deeply. "I am grateful."
The king turned to leave.
But then he stopped.
He looked at her again.
"I would like to hug you."
Khari blinked. "Me?"
"Yes."
Before she could protest, Bazi stepped forward and embraced her.
Khari froze.
Fear and warmth tangled inside her chest. She knew it was a terrible idea, embracing the king, as the palace had eyes on every corner.
And her fear was immediately justified.
Hidden among the bushes nearby—Lady Erini watched the scene with fury.
Her eyes burned as she turned away.
And the seeds of another palace scandal were quietly planted.
...
The vase shattered against the marble floor.
Fragments scattered like ice across the chamber as Lady Erini stood breathing heavily in the center of the room. The scent of crushed flowers rose into the air, mixing with the sharp bitterness of her anger.
Rua, her lady-in-waiting, stood nearby, silent and attentive, as though destruction were nothing unusual within these walls.
Erini pressed her palms against the edge of the table, trying to steady herself.
"What kind of man is never satisfied with three wives?" she snapped.
Her voice trembled with fury.
"Three wives!"
She began pacing the room.
"I understand the queen," she continued bitterly. "She's old, obedient, predictable. But Gema and I? We are young."
Her eyes flashed with resentment.
"And yet he looks elsewhere."
She stopped abruptly, turning toward Rua. "Between our thighs rests warmth and tenderness enough to satisfy any man alive."
Her laugh came out sharp and humorless.
"And it isn't as though the king himself is extraordinary. If anything happens in that bed, it's because I make it happen."
She exhaled sharply. "Unbutton my dress. I can't breathe."
Rua moved forward quietly and began loosening the ties along the back of Erini's gown. The silk slid apart, revealing smooth skin beneath the lantern light.
Erini closed her eyes briefly.
"It's been years since I last felt this angry," she murmured.
Rua's fingers brushed lightly down her spine.
Erini shivered.
"Rua," she whispered.
"Yes, my lady."
"Free me from this gnawing pain."
Rua did not answer.
Instead, her hands continued their slow descent along her back, sending small tremors through her body. Her fingertips traced the curve of Erini's waist before moving upward again, gently exploring the softness of her chest.
Erini inhaled sharply as the fingers teased her skin. Her anger began melting into something warmer. More dangerous. Rua's lips brushed her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
Erini's breathing grew uneven. Her hands rose instinctively to cover her mouth, muffling the sounds threatening to escape. The room seemed to shrink around them. The world outside the chamber—politics, rivalries, palace intrigue—faded into silence. Only sensation remained.
Rua loosened the rest of her dress and let the silk slide from her shoulders. He turned Erini gently to face her, and their lips met in a deep, hungry kiss.
Erini clutched Rua's shoulders.
"I need you," she whispered breathlessly.
Without hesitation, Rua lifted her and carried her to the bed. The remaining layers of clothing fell away one by one until nothing remained between them. Lantern light flickered across Rua's muscular back as she finally revealed herself fully.
The truth she had always known.
Rua was no lady-in-waiting.
Rua was a man.
And tonight, in the shadows of the East Residence, Lady Erini abandoned anger for desire as the palace around them continued its endless game of power and secrets.
***