Trinkets:

—Oh, they are divine!- exclaimed Burya.

—Yes, they are.- Sarab mumbled, making a sneer.

—Oh, Egyptian, there is no way to please you. You never like anything they bring us.- Zai protested.

—It's because they're rubbish,mere rags, what's left over. You know as well as I do that Cassandra always chooses the best fabrics for herself.

In the pavilion of the Moons revelry reigned. The maidens of the court had brought multicolored fabrics so that the girls could choose among themselves the ones that they would use in the making of their respective dresses.

—It's a pity that our beloved doesn't give us jewelry.-Burya commented as he selected silk and tulle in bright colors.

—To tell the truth… I'd rather he doesn't do it than he puts us in a tiara like Cassandra's or an anklet like Sarab's.

—Why?- asked Umara intrigued.

—Well, because…-began Mem.
Zai had a coughing fit and her sister came over to pat her on the back.

—Are you alright, sister?- Mem whispered. And then Zai took her by the hand, leading her out of the main hall, while they murmured among themselves.

Umara frowned. Sometimes the pavilion women behaved very strangely.

—Well, as I was saying.- I think this fabric will go well with my skin tone, what do you think? - Burya screeched, tracing pirouettes in what he was holding a meter of pink silk against his chest.

Sarab rolled her eyes.

—You know perfectly well that you have an enviable complexion. Any color and any type of fabric suits you.

—Oh, thanks for the compliment, Sarab.-Burya mused, blushing instantly. -Coming from you, I know it's true. You're the only one of us all with an eye for such things, and besides, you're too honest to give a false compliment.

Sarab raised a very thin eyebrow, in what separated some silver fabrics of a bundle from others completely black. Umara walked over and took the latter for herself, she was in mourning after all.

—Sarab, don't be ambitious.--Mem admonished her, returning to the living room with a nervous smile on her lips.

—Yes, let one of us take something from the silver cloths, I'll always get hold of them!- Zai protested.

Sarab just looked at them, narrowing her eyes.

—Whoever takes them first, keeps them.- she mumbled.

The front door opens and a group of five court maidens approaches, carrying chests in their hands. They come up to us and, depositing the chests on the ground, they walk away without giving their backs to us .

—With our emperor´s good will.- they announce, letting us know that it was he who sent the gifts.

—What is this?-Burya yells and instantly launches himself on the chests, opening them one by one.

Inside them shine slippers cooked in gold and silver, cloaks of different colors and sizes, platinum-plated bracelets and necklaces, huge or even small earrings, golden rings and many other valuable objects.

—Woah…- Burya exclaimed, opening his eyes so wide that it seemed they were going to pop out of his face. It's been a long time since our Beloved entertained us with jewels.

Sarab snorted.

—These aren't jewelry, they're trinkets.-she said, taking a handful of mother-of-pearl necklaces, throwing them disdainfully to the ground.

—They look perfect to me.- Burya protested.

—Because you don't know any better. Where are the rubies, the emeralds, the sapphires? Why, if we are the most important women in the Empire, are we forced to look like beggars?!

—Sarab, you know it's tradition. Our beloved only gives true jewelry to whom finds grace in his eyes.

—A cheapskate, that's what he is!

Omara smiled. In the weeks that she had been in the pavilion, it was the first time that she had heard the Egyptian say more than a few words.

—Oh, it's not so bad. Here, this matches your anklet.- Mem proposed, handing her a silver bracelet.

Sarab made a face of disgust and turned her back on them.

—That's why he treats us like beggars, because we're content with his crumbs.

000

Umara:

I opted for the bracelets and a pair of anklets with little gold bells. It is true what Sarab says, none of the jewelry has precious stones, they really are very beautiful, carved in gold or silver, but the absence of diamonds seems to bother the Egyptian. Which I don't understand. I suspect the woman is either terribly ambitious or a born maverick.

Also, whenever Sarab's anklet and Cassandra's crown come up, the girls behave strangely, leaving conversations halfway and looking at each other nervously.

Today I decided to go out to the garden and walk for a while among the flowers and tall trees, taking advantage of the solitude to prostrate myself on the ground, joining my hands and raising a prayer to my God.

“O Eternal , hear my prayer.

Give me strength to stand firm

Make me see the dangers of the road,

So that my foot may walk safely.”

—What are you doing?- asked a small voice.

I turn to look at Burya, who is looking at me doubtfully.

—I pray to my God. I´ve sent up a prayer for his guidance.

—Your God?- she whispers.- Is it only one? How strange, the Kuranies and many peoples worship multiple gods.

—I know.

—What's your God's name?- murmurs Burya.

—My God has no name, and no temple. HE is always presenteS HIMSELF as what you need at the moment. We call him the Guide, the Almighty, the Merciful...

—I see!- Burya commented happily. - And…how do you pray to him?

I smile pleased.

—I almost always talk to him like I would to my best friend.

000

—You must be more careful, Umara.- Zai whispered later, as we sat down to share a snack of roasted pheasant, grapes, bread, and wine.

—We won't comment on anything because you're relatively new to the Palace and you're not used to the rules, but if Cassandra sees you, praying, prostrate on your knees in front of the trees, she could accuse you of heresy.- Mem finished.

I glanced at Burya and she blushed.

—Don't take it the wrong way, the Russian is the kind of person who doesn't know how to keep a secret to herself,.-Sarab commented.

—I understand, I'll be more careful from today on.