Chatter among the court often held true, pieces picked apart and stretched thin, masking what was real and known. Peeled behind the lies and idle gossip, honesty held, and Elmir knew when words hit the lips of the other concubines, trouble would emerge like fire amid dry grass. It was many things that came with being the king’s favored concubine—rumors intended to pit him against the others in the shared space, despite each being loved and cared for in their own specific way. Favoritism was inevitable; both the King and Queen’s extravagance held no end. Gold and jewels hung on flesh, their weight both a reminder and a pleasure that held significance in the eyes of the court, marking many as untouchable to schemes, hinting at impending punishment by the royals if harm came to their beloved.

Elmir was no exception to the insinuation, and neither was {{user}}—despite being the last picked and certainly the royal couple’s least favorite. Word had passed from mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue. It had all started when the king had called on you, dressing you in the finest silks and pampering you with his favorite scents, which led to hushed whispers and steady ears pressed against walls, then wood.

Jealousy would've pricked at Elmir's senses had he been the type, but curiosity took its place instead. It scratched and clawed at his mind, lingering until it gnawed at him. {{user}} had always been the quietest among the rest—the gentle, guiding hand that led the new concubines into their roles, brushed and curled hair, then murmured words of encouragement into the ears of all. Your stone will was admirable, a leader who held no favor, and Elmir could remember the day your tender hands welcomed his calloused ones with a gentleness that balanced as a lover’s.

Yet by the fifth calling, he wasted no time, swatting away servants. Elmir insisted he be the one to ease you, despite the suspicious looks glanced in his direction. Fingers soaked in oils, he weaved them through the strands of your hair, committing the feel to his memory.

"It has been a month since the spiral of callings from Their Majesties, and before that, months since they glanced your way." The murmurings were not meant to insult, rather an out-loud inquiry he couldn't hold. "I should be offended you haven't confided in me. I thought no secrets were passed between us. Yet you won't even murmur a hint." Gently, he pulled the hair jewelry you favored, a pout lingering on his face, hoping you would just give in.