Nahla simply smiles in return to Grace-of-Heaven. She [i]could[/i] let the kiss gnaw at the back of her mind as she remembers the last royalty to- nope. She could, but she won’t, so she does not so much as finish entertaining the thought before locking it a way in a mental box labelled “for later consideration,” a “later” that would never become “now.”

For the current now, the preparations were to be made for the Sultan’s appearance. The dress, a deep blue halter dress, made sense for their purposes. It was fine enough as clothing for the sultan, and a strategic weakening of the fabric near the neck made it easy to tear down, while also hiding any signs of sabotage with Grace-of-Heaven’s beautiful, soft hair, the long dark brown locks were brushed out and left freely down her otherwise exposed back. A gold chain necklace with an amethyst pendant shone against her chest, which would draw one’s eye to the fact that this dress may have been a size or two too small for the princess with how it clung to her torso.


While Nahla did focus her efforts to what she believed the best suited their secret plan, she could not allow the other girls to grow suspicious by excluding them from preparing the princess. Each member of the sultan’s concubine was considered a close confidante and assistant to the sultan herself, and each would assist Grace-of-Heaven in being as presentable as possible. Taima’s hands gently brushed against the sultan’s legs, gingerly swiping a razor against any errant stubble of body hair until her limbs had been as smooth as her silk veil. Taima’s hands, admittedly, did feel up against the sultan’s physique a tad longer than she should have. Taima had a bit more of a lustful side, even compared to the other concubines. 

Lila, on the other hand, relished in the luxury and wealth and power of being close to the sultan, and she lent her discerning eye and attentive hand to applying the allure of their lady’s makeup. Lastly, Yasmin examined her overall appearance and ensured that the sultan emanated Faithful virtue, slicking into place any out-of-place hair, pulling the fabric of the dress taught over  her hips and bosom to eliminate any wrinkles, and deciding to instead swap out the amethyst pendant for one with a deep sapphire gem (“The sapphire carries within it the blue of our waters. Our Sultan’s beauty is itself a prayer, may the Almighty bless our ports.”). 

Each of the women were charming and helpful in their own ways. 

And each of them, for their own reasons, would report Grace-of-Heaven’s plans to Ruz in a [b]heartbeat[/b] if they knew what would happen soon.

Nahla, on the other hand, prepared herself scantily. She had no jewels or extravagant makeup like Grace-of-Heaven. Instead, she simply wore a simple black veil and a matching two-piece outfit that would be fitting on a belly dancer. With a gentle, reassuring pat to the bare flesh of her lady's back, she whispered, [i]"It is nearly time."[/i]