(Almera POV)
More precise. Their eyes lowered deeper when they bowed, their steps measured. This wing was not merely luxurious—it was watched.
And watching meant fear.
I removed my outer silk mantle and allowed myself a slow breath as I crossed toward the inner sitting room. Sunlight filtered through lattice screens, casting gold patterns on the marble floor. The scent of myrrh and warm water lingered faintly in the air.
Then—
A soft knock.
"Enter," I said.
Serah al-Nayim stepped inside alone.
No attendants. No servants.
That alone told me this was not a courtesy visit.
She inclined her head slightly. "Your Highness."
I gestured for her to sit.
She did not.
Instead, she reached into the fold of her robes and produced a thin booklet bound in pale leather, its edges worn from age and use.
"This," she said, holding it out to me, "is the codex of the Imperial Harem."
I took it carefully.
It was heavier than it looked.
