under her breath, Daliyah happily twirled in a dance step in the long hallway, then abruptly stopped, her hand to her mouth.

She permitted herself a small giggle, then hastily composed her face into the serene visage of a Seraglio lady.

Good thing no one was there to see me acting so indecorously, she thought thankfully, blessing the good luck that had kept her away from those with long tongues.

She slid effortlessly into the graceful harem walk expected of all the King's women and continued down the hallway toward the oda.

Lady Bulbul will be sure to be extra thorough in her inspection of the oda today, she mused as she came to the main intersection in the Seraglio. The oda is nearly full and many of us have nearly completed our education.

She was helpless to stop the large smile that suffused her face with joy at the thought of the favourable reports she knew she had earned from her instructors.

I told Voluptua this was the place for me -- I knew it in my bones!

A small laugh escaped her generous lips at the thought of the life that could be hers as a favourite of the King.

With that happy thought she whirled around the corner, only to see a rather amazing sight.

The lusciously golden haired Celt, who many in the Seraglio were beginning to eye narrowly because of her beauty, stood talking to -- a wall?

Forgetting decorum, Daliyah stood bemused, watching as the petite young woman talked to no one!

Daliyah, for one, liked the sweet seamstress. The creations that Silki made for the women of her oda were beginning to attract the attention of the best-dressed ladies at court.

Best to keep her out of trouble and firmly affixed to our oda, thought Daliyah with a practicality that would have made her nomad forebears proud.

She walked up behind the petite blonde and tapped her gently on the shoulder. "Silki? Who are you talking to?"

Silki spun on her toes, her great green eyes going wide and a rose blush tinting her creamy complexion. "Why, why, n-no one, ma'am!" she stammered. "I was just, just p-practicing my Babylonian..."

"Well, it won't do to let people see you doing that in the hallway, Silki. You should practice your lessons quietly in the oda, not in public."

Daliyah placed her hands on Silki's shoulders, turning her in the direction of the oda and gave her tiny nudge. Falling in step beside the golden-haired Celt, Daliyah looked greedily at the glistening silks.

"Oh, Silki," she wheedled, knowing that she herself wasn't privy to the operations of the household administration. "Are we getting more new clothes? Do you know what for?"