In the early afternoon, some of the women lounged, indulging in naps. Young slave girls, their fans adorned with peacock feathers, moved gracefully to disperse the oppressive humidity. An undercurrent of excitement had electrified the rest, their alert eyes darting, whispers floating across the harem's secluded garden as eunuchs massaged their muscles.
From the outside, their lives might seem the pinnacle of luxury. However, once the doors of the consortium closed, it became painfully clear that their freedom was nothing but an illusion. They might be draped in riches, but they were as much prisoners to the Vampire royalty as any servant. Regardless of their rank, they had but one purpose: to serve the King and his inner circle. Their existence was to tend to these whims, to offer themselves for pleasure, all the while trapped within this ornate prison's confines.
