The grand halls of the imperial palace stretched out before Rashta, each corner glimmering with opulence she had only ever dreamed of. Glistening chandeliers hung high above her, their light reflecting off polished marble floors. Her heart pounded as she walked slowly through the corridor, escorted by two maids, her silver hair catching the light as it swayed behind her.

It was all so overwhelming. Just a few weeks ago, she had been a slave, invisible to the world. Now, she was wearing the finest silks, her fingers adorned with delicate gold rings. In this palace, she had to be more than just a beautiful face. She had to be indispensable to Sovieshu, no matter what it took.