| Your new concubines |

Rain whispered against the tall windows of the royal residence, blurring Ravensreach into a patchwork of pale gold lights and dark rooftops. The fire had burned low, filling the sitting room with a comfortable warmth that did little to ease the anticipation hanging in the air. Empty teacups rested on the table beside a plate of sliced fruit, and a blue lollipop lay forgotten next to a closed book.

Rhea Voss had abandoned her armor on the table some time ago. The silver plates were arranged haphazardly beside her discarded gauntlet, one clasp bent from years of use. She sat sideways in a broad armchair near the hearth, one leg tucked beneath her and the other stretched toward the fire. Her simple white dress had slipped slightly off one shoulder, exposing the green-and-pink floral tattoo that extended across her skin. She hadn't bothered to adjust it. Every so often, her fingers wandered toward the armor, turning a loose buckle or checking a strap out of habit. It gave her something familiar to do while she waited.

Across from her, Vera Kade had arranged her correspondence into neat piles on the arm of her chair. She'd read the same letter twice without absorbing much of it, her attention repeatedly drifting toward the doors. Her short black hair framed her face in slightly untidy strands, and the lenses of her glasses reflected the firelight whenever she turned her head. Unlike Rhea, she hadn't made herself particularly comfortable. She sat upright, one ankle resting over the other, her hands resting loosely over the papers. There was no visible sign of impatience beyond the occasional glance at the clock.

Sariel Lin occupied the window seat, her long white ponytail falling neatly down her back. Her book lay open in her lap, though she'd made little progress over the last several minutes. A blue lollipop rested between her lips, and one slender finger held her place on the page. Beyond the glass, she watched the rain run down the windows in winding trails, occasionally shifting her gaze toward the courtyard below. She seemed the least concerned with their impending meeting, although the fact that she had reread the same paragraph four times suggested otherwise.

"You've stopped reading," Rhea observed.

Sariel's eyes moved from the window to her book.

"I've been reading."

"The same page?"

"It's an interesting page."

Rhea's mouth curved into a small smile. She seemed content to leave the matter there, reaching instead for her teacup. After discovering it was empty, she gave it a brief, disappointed look before setting it back down.

Vera glanced over her correspondence.

"You're nervous too."

Rhea looked at her, unoffended.

"Of course I am. We're meeting a stranger who's going to be rather important to our lives. I'd be more concerned if I weren't nervous."

There was no bitterness in her voice. She sounded genuinely curious, perhaps even a little amused by the unusual circumstances that had brought them together.

Vera considered that before returning her attention to the papers.

"I suppose it's better than pretending the arrangement is entirely ordinary."

"It certainly isn't ordinary," Sariel remarked.

She closed her book around one finger and leaned her head lightly against the window frame. The movement was unhurried, her expression as composed as ever.

"Three women agreeing to marry someone they've never met. I imagine there are more conventional ways to enter the royal household."

"Probably," Rhea said. "But conventional arrangements don't usually come with terms this generous."

Vera raised her eyes at that, a faint, knowing expression crossing her face.

"You mean the provisions protecting our independence."

"I mean the provisions protecting everything. Our work, our personal property, our right to leave. Whoever negotiated this contract went to considerable trouble to make sure we weren't entirely dependent on the crown."

She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. Her interest in the subject was genuine now, her earlier restlessness replaced by quiet thought.

"That's what I want to understand. Why offer so much freedom to people who are supposed to become part of the royal family?"

Vera set the correspondence aside. It was a question she'd evidently considered herself, judging by the way her attention sharpened.

"Perhaps the heir understands that an arrangement like this would be difficult to maintain without it."

"That would be sensible."

"Or perhaps someone advised him to be sensible."

Rhea smiled at that.

"There's the Vera I was waiting for."

Vera gave her a brief, unimpressed look, though there was no real irritation behind it. She rose from her chair and crossed to the window, stopping beside Sariel to look out over the courtyard. A pair of guards hurried beneath the covered walkway, their cloaks darkened by the rain. Beyond them, servants moved between the buildings with lanterns held close to their chests.

For a while, the women were quiet. Their conversation had wandered away from the prince himself and toward the circumstances surrounding him, which was perhaps easier than speculating about a person none of them knew. Each had accepted the arrangement for her own reasons. Rhea wanted stability without giving up the work that had shaped her life. Vera had evaluated the terms carefully and found them worth accepting. Sariel had been interested in the opportunities the royal archives and libraries might offer, provided her independence remained intact.

None of them had expected to become close overnight. They were still learning one another's habits, discovering which remarks invited a response and which were better left alone. Yet there was already a certain ease between them, a willingness to share silence without feeling obligated to fill it. Rhea had a habit of asking questions directly, Vera preferred to consider them before answering, and Sariel seemed content to contribute only when she had something worth saying.

The footsteps in the corridor interrupted the quiet.

Vera noticed them first. She straightened slightly, turning away from the window as the sounds approached. Rhea followed her gaze, then reached for the loose strap on her armor and set it neatly beside the breastplate. Sariel slipped a small paper wrapper around the end of her lollipop before placing it on the plate beside her book.

There was no sudden scramble to make themselves presentable. Rhea smoothed the fabric of her dress and stood, stretching her shoulders as though she'd been sitting too long. Vera adjusted her glasses and moved away from the window, her posture settling into its usual composed alignment. Sariel closed her book and rested it on the seat beside her, then folded her hands in her lap.

The doors opened, and the royal steward entered with his customary formality. His gray hair was immaculate despite the weather, and his expression gave away nothing as he stepped aside to announce the visitor.

"The Heir of the Realm."