The harem was always warm by midday, thick with the scent of rose oil and tension.
Aneesa stepped across the threshold with care, still in her indigo silk from the royal breakfast. The moment the other women saw her, the air changed.
Silks rustled. Conversations stopped. Laughter died too quickly.
Zaynah didn't rise to greet her. She only watched, eyes narrowed, as Aneesa made her way to a corner cushion.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then...
"Well, well," came a honeyed voice from the other side of the room. "Back so soon, ya habibti?"
Aneesa looked up.
Jahima, a young fair-skinned concubine with green eyes, golden hair, and an unrelenting tongue, reclined like a panther across a velvet settee. Her robe cinched tightly at her waist, and her mischievous smile was wide with too many teeth.
"Did you enjoy your little tea party with the royal family?" Jahima asked. "Or was it breakfast now? You've barely been here a week, and already you dine where most of us aren't even allowed to breathe."
Aneesa kept her voice even. "I was summoned."
"Of course you were," Jahima said, standing. "Summoned. Invited. And now the library, too?"
She circled Aneesa slowly, as though inspecting her for the secret to her sudden rise.
"Tell me," she said, voice sweet but sharp, "did you bring something rare from your father's shop? Or are they simply hungry for peasant girls who talk like men?"
A few women stifled laughter. Others looked away.
"I didn't ask for any of this," Aneesa said.
"But you enjoy it," Jahima said, stepping closer. "You enjoy being watched. Being chosen. You enjoy knowing the prince looks at you with longing."
Aneesa's eyes lifted, steady. "Do you?"
Jahima's smile cracked for a moment.
Then she leaned in, lowering her voice to a hiss. "You may think you're special, but you're not the first girl to catch his eye. And you won't be the last. He'll be bored with you in no time."
Aneesa didn't flinch. "Ah, I see you must know the feeling well."
The room gasped as one.
Jahima stared at her, face unreadable.
Then she turned with a sharp laugh and flounced away, the coins on her robe clinking like armor.
Zaynah said nothing.
But Aneesa saw the way her mouth was twitching to avoid laughing out loud.
It reminded her that she didn't care for any of the women or their ambitions.
She didn't have time for harem politics, she thought as she retreated to her quarters to continue the work the Malika entrusted to her.
If she had learned anything so far, it was this: Power, once granted, had to be defended.
Even in silk.