Gold coins

Zefra danced with her heart and soul, each movement reflecting grace, poise, and skill. Her hips wove a looping pattern, one sweeping upward as the other fell, only to reverse again without ever breaking the rhythm.

The tiny coins sewn into her outfit followed every movement with their soft chime and glittering sway. She shimmied her chest while keeping her lower body perfectly still, the movement controlled and precise. Then she arched backward, her hands moving like waves.

These were movements she had learned years ago, back when she would sneak out of her house after her parents had fallen asleep just to watch the belly dancers perform. She had watched them in awe, then returned home and practiced their movements in secret.

The women who had been brought as slaves alongside Zefra watched in silence and awe. There was no way they could match up to that.

She smiled and danced for a good few minutes before finally bowing, her chest slightly heaving as she caught her breath, her eyes fixed on the embroidered slipper the Shehzade was wearing.

“Rise!”

An elegant voice commanded.

Zefra lifted her eyes. For the first time, she saw the handsome man she had been dancing for.

He looked to be in his early twenties, a dark beard framing his square jaw, with pale skin, jet-black hair, and piercing brown eyes. The women had told her he was to die for.

Now she understood what they meant.

It happened the instant their eyes met.

He reached inside his embroidered tunic and pulled out a maroon scarf. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it floating through the air.

It landed softly in front of Zefra.

She had been chosen.

Chosen as the Crown Prince's concubine.

The ceremony ended as he rose swiftly to his feet. The women who had barely noticed Zefra before now watched her with envy as she lifted the silk scarf and caressed it against her cheek.