Yana stood before the ornate mirror in her chambers, carefully adjusting the intricate golden headdress that crowned her elaborately braided hair. The weight of it felt like a physical manifestation of the expectations placed upon her. Today marked the beginning of the Summer Solstice festivities, a week-long celebration that would see the Mauve Palace teeming with nobles from across Buriti-Vasca and beyond.

For Yana, it was both an opportunity and a minefield. She had spent years cultivating a carefully crafted persona--intelligent enough to be useful, but not so brilliant as to be threatening. Gorgeous, but in a way that didn't outshine the Vascan noblewomen. A perfect chameleon, blending seamlessly into the background of court life as she awaited her freedom.

At eighteen, she faced a new challenge. Whispers had reached her ears of potential suitors eyeing her as a match for their greedy palms. The very thought made her stomach churn in truth. Marriage in Buriti-Vasca was a prison sentence for women, stripping them of what little autonomy they possessed.

As she made her way through the palace corridors, the sound of laughter and music grew louder, She needed allies, she thought, leverage, anything to secure her position without the shackles of matrimony.

The great hall was a riot of color and sound. Nobles in their finest silks twirled across the polished floor, while servants weaved through the crowd with trays laden with exotic delicacies. Yana's eyes scanned the room, cataloging faces and alliances with practiced ease.

Her stare fell upon Princess Kasiha, now a striking young woman of fifteen. The princess stood tall, her chin raised defiantly as she engaged in what appeared to be a heated debate with a cluster of older noblemen. Yana felt a surge of pride mixed with concern. Kasiha's intelligence and passion were undeniable, but they also made her a target in this world that feared strong women.

Smoothly, Yana glid toward the group, positioning herself just within earshot. "But surely, Your Highness," one of the noblemen was saying, his tone dripping with condescension, "you can see that allowing women to own property would upset the natural order of things. It's simply not done...it would be an affront to the scripture!"

Kasiha's eyes flashed dangerously. "And who, pray tell, decided on this 'natural order'? Men, I presume? The same men who benefit from keeping half the population subservient?" She pushed her slender finger into the man's chubby chest.

Yana winced internally. While she agreed wholeheartedly with the princess, she knew such direct confrontation would only breed resentment. It was time to intervene before the noble forgot his place.

"Your Highness," Yana said, stepping forward with a deep curtsy. "Forgive the interruption, but I believe your presence is required by the Tykar ambassador. He was most eager to discuss the new trade routes through the Glass Wastes."

Kasiha's brow furrowed for a moment before understanding dawned in her eyes. "Of course, Lady Yana. Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me." Only giving them an unceremonious nod instead of the traditional salute.

As they moved away from the group, Kasiha whispered, "There is no Tykar ambassador, is there?" Her smile became wide after she spoke.

Yana allowed herself a small smile. "No, Your Highness. But I feared if left unchecked, you might have reduced those men to tears outright. While satisfying, it would do little to advance your cause." Yana mused, pushing her headdress straight after being forced to bow.

Kasiha sighed, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "You're right, of course. It's just... so frustrating. They refuse to see reason, clinging to their outdated beliefs like a child to a security blanket."

"Change comes slowly, Your Highness," Yana said softly. "But it does come. You've already planted seeds of doubt in their minds. Given time, they may yet bloom into something magnificent."

The princess nodded, a determined glint in her eye. "Thank you, Yana. I don't know what I'd do without you." as Kasiha moved to greet other guests, Yana allowed herself a moment of satisfaction. Her bond with the princess was genuine, but it was also strategic.

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If she could position herself as indispensable to the future Queen of Buriti-Vasca, it would provide a measure of protection against unwanted suitors. Speaking of unwanted suitors...she clicked to herself.

"Lady Yana!" a booming voice called out. "There you are, my desert rose!"

Yana suppressed a groan as she turned to face Dennis Vasca, nephew to the king and quite possibly the most vapid individual she had ever encountered. He was a rotund man, his silk robes straining to contain his girth. His round face was flushed, whether from exertion or the numerous gulps of wine, he had no doubt consumed by the barrel, Yana couldn't be sure.

"Lord Dennis," she said, dipping into a curtsy. "How lovely to see you this evening." She expressed while tightening her lips and eyes.

Dennis beamed, clearly missing the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. "And you as well! I've been searching everywhere for you. I simply must have you attend my latest theatrical production of Infernum! It's a musical retelling of the Great Svetlan War, with a romantic twist, of course."

Yana fought to keep her expression neutral. Dennis' "productions" were notorious throughout the court --overblown, self-indulgent affairs that drained the royal coffers and tested the patience of even the most sycophantic courtiers. At worst, they were tantamount to cultural erasure at how little he cared for accuracy over fanfare.

"That sounds... fascinating," Yana managed. "Though I fear my duties to Princess Kasiha may keep me quite occupied in the coming weeks."

Dennis waved a hand dismissively. "Nonsense! I'm sure my dear cousin can spare you for a few rehearsals. In fact, I've been thinking..." He leaned in closer, his breath heavy with the scent of spiced wine. "You would make a splendid lead actress. Your exotic beauty would be perfect for the role of the Svetlan ice princess who falls in love with the dashing Buritian general."

Alarm bells rang in Yana's mind. She needed to deflect this notion immediately, but without causing offense. An idea began to form.

"Oh, Lord Dennis," she said, allowing a note of regret to color her voice. "While I'm deeply flattered by the offer, I fear I would do your masterpiece a disservice. My singing voice is atrocious, you see. Why, the last time I attempted to carry a tune, I'm quite certain I scared away an entire herd of Duriks!"

Dennis's face fell, clearly torn between his vision and the thought of a subpar performance. Yana pressed her gift with word. "But you know who has a truly angelic voice? Your driver, Gustav. I overheard him singing to himself the other day, and I was utterly entranced."

"Gustav?" Dennis repeated, his brow furrowing. "I wasn't aware he had any musical talent."

Yana nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, it's quite remarkable. He's rather shy about it, I believe. But with your expert direction, I'm certain he could blossom into a true star." She could see the wheels turning in Dennis's mind. The thought of 'discovering' hidden talent and molding it into something grand clearly appealed to his ego.

"You know," Dennis said slowly, "now that you mention it, I have noticed Gustav humming to himself on occasion. Perhaps I should speak with him about this opportunity." His palms clapped together as the gears in his mind scrambled to put together a rough idea.

"I think that's a marvelous idea," Yana said, patting his arm encouragingly. "In fact, why don't you go find him now? I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear about this chance to showcase his talents."

As Dennis waddled off in search of his driver, Yana allowed herself a small sigh of relief. She had successfully diverted his attention for now, and with any luck, this little scheme would blossom into something more. She had seen the way Dennis looked at his driver when he thought no one was watching --a mixture of confusion and longing that he likely didn't even understand himself.

If she could nurture that spark, perhaps Dennis would find happiness, and she would be free from his unwanted attention. It was a delicate dance, but one Yana was becoming increasingly adept at performing in the burning court of Buriti.

As she turned to rejoin the festivities, Yana found herself face to face with King H. Vasca himself. The massive man loomed over her, his single eye boring into her with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat.

"Interesting tactic, girl," the king rumbled, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "I wondered how long it would take someone to notice my nephew's... demonic proclivities."

Yana felt her heart hammering in her chest. She dropped into a deep curtsy this time, buying herself precious seconds to compose her thoughts as she nearly bowed her knees to the king's armored feet.

"Your Majesty," she said, keeping her eyes lowered respectfully. "I'm afraid I don't understand..."

The king's laugh was a harsh, grating sound. "Oh, I think you understand perfectly well. You're not nearly as meek and simple as you pretend to be, are you? No, there's a sharp mind behind those pretty eyes." Yana remained silent, every muscle in her body tense.

She had spent years carefully cultivating her image, and now, in a single moment, the most dangerous man in Buriti-Vasca had seen through her facade. King H. Vasca reached out, grasping Yana's chin with surprising gentleness and tilting her face up to meet his regard. "You intrigue me, Lady Yana. Perhaps it's time we had a proper conversation about your role in this court."