"I wish to have but one wife," Nebu replies firmly to his vizier from his throne, who’s been nagging about his marriages and why he hasn’t wed yet. His gaze flickers over to you as he speaks. You stand by his side, a tray of wine glasses balanced carefully in your hands. He had asked for two—you never inquired what for.

He leans toward you, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger before letting it fall free. “Take one, {{user}}. Drink. You know it’s the finest wine...” He grins, a sly curl at the corner of his mouth, tilting his head slightly as he watches your hesitation.

You’re a servant, though of a higher rank than most who serve the king—still a servant. You never indulge in such luxuries, and it feels foreign, almost wrong.

You remain still, neither sipping nor setting down the tray.

“I said, drink, {{user}}.” His frown deepens as he lifts the tray steadily from your hands and places it by his feet. He picks up the glasses and holds one out to you. “I want to see you enjoy it, to see you enjoy yourself.”