Nahla couldn’t help but wince ever so slightly. Of course, a dress seemed excessive to earn such a punishment, especially from Grace-of-Heaven. Anyone who knew her would question the excessive reaction, but she had hoped that it would be enough, nonetheless. She looked into the Sultan’s eyes, and she knew that she was truly determined in her mission.

“If that is your wish, my Sultan, I shall do my best tonight.” Then, with a wry chuckle, added, “I only hope that [i]she[/i] does not see it as an excuse to further tarnish your good name, nor to take matters of educating me into her own hands.”
The northerner grabs the soap nearby, and begins to generously lather her royal mistress. She would shudder to think of the Vizier’s burning gaze that bore into her form the second she had arrived in Sjakal. Even worse, she thought of how that accursed Rosethal looked at Grace-of-Heaven, the harsh paragraphs of insults that were screamed by a simple look. She knew just what it felt like, to be treated as a plaything, to be casually used by a girl who thinks herself superior, only to be tossed aside when it suited her-
Nahla stopped herself. She had become lost in thought, and Grace-of-Heaven was plenty lathered up.

As she began to clean the sultan, making sure to set aside a sample of the same soap, Nahla felt something in her words. Her grandmother’s city. Nahla wanted to be honest with her- tell her of the thieves and mercenaries that roam the street, the cruel glares that her consort had received on her journey to the palace- but this was not what the girl needed now. The work for improvement came later. For now, she had a dream, and Nahla needed to be part of her dream.

With a reassuring gaze and a smile, she held up the towel as she suppressed the truth and told Grace-of-Heaven what she wanted- what she needed to hear, all while looking into those eager eyes for confirmation. “It’s a beautiful city. I’m certain you’ll love it, my Sultan. No amount of Ruz’s meddling can ruin the beauty of Sjakal, and you’ll love the light of the heavens bouncing off of the surface of the coast. And when the cool night air combs its fingers through your hair, I promise you, it will be worth all of this planning. And one day, it will be yours.”


[hider=My Hider]
Using Be Their Dream to suppress Nahla's desire to be honest and instead tell Grace-of-Heaven what she thinks she wants to hear, looking to her expression to see how effective it was.

[/hider]