EmberThey burned incense in the fitting chamber to make it smell like roses. It does not hide the scent of fear. The palace hums outside the door, servants rushing, metal clinking, distant laughter rehearsed for a celebration no one believes in. Every corridor feels tighter now, the walls closer, as if the city itself is holding its breath for my binding.Two guards escort me inside, one remains by the door, the other leaves. Indira waits near the window, hands folded, eyes lowered. She does not bow. The door shuts with a heavy click. Silence swells between us. I stand in the center of the room while she circles me, measuring without touching.“You’ve lost weight,” she murmurs.“I’ve lost sleep.”Her mouth almost curves, almost. The dress rests on a mannequin behind her, black silk layered over something deeper. Ember red flickers beneath the outer sheen when the light strikes it. Gold embroidery spills down the bodice in intricate sigils, Sariyah’s chosen crest, altered just enough
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