Alarna sat stiffly, her lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't want to speak, not about this, not to him. But her father's gaze was unrelenting, his voice coaxing, insistent. Eventually, she gave in, her words spilling out in frustration. "I just can't get him to notice me."
Her father leaned back in his chair and chuckled, the sound deep and dismissive. "That's what's bothering you? Do you think every consort in the imperial palace won their position by currying favor with the imperial lord?"
Alarna frowned, her voice sharp. "Then how did they get what they wanted?"
"They got a little help," he said smoothly.
She blinked, confused. "Help?"
"You just need a little something to speed things up," he replied, reaching into his robes. He pulled out a small vial, its contents shimmering faintly. "Use this to get things going. Sneak fifteen ml into his drink and let the magic work."
Alarna's brow furrowed, suspicion clouding her eyes. "I don't know…"
