Ask why they have stopped

Abbie takes the apple and thanks the driver. It is the first act of basic decency she has encountered all day, and she is grateful.

“Who are we picking up?” she asks him, thankful for a chance to talk to anyone other than the annoying eunuch.

“I can’t remember the name,” said the driver. “But I’m sure you’ll get to know her well enough. She’s another member of your ‘class’.”

“My ‘class’?” asks Abbie. “I don’t understand.”

“You know.... This crop of candidates for the harem,” he explains. “We get five or six a month. Usually the king keeps one or two. The two of you are part of this month’s batch.”

Abbie was aghast. “Just how big is the king’s harem?”

The driver chuckled. “You’ll have to ask Delphan. He’s the one in charge.”

Abbie’s mind races. It was bad enough to have to share a husband with another wife, let along more than one. It was worst to be labeled as a concubine — to have no legal relationship with a man other than “legalized whore.” But she never imagined that she could get lost in a crowd of nameless women who meant nothing more to the king than an occasional roll in the bed sheets!

Another thought struck her. “Wait a minute! What happens to those whom the king does not choose?” Up until now, it never occurred to her that there was even any doubt about her future.

Before the driver can answer, the cottage door opens, and a young woman steps out. She is the same age as Abbie and is much the same build. Instead of red hair, she has long, jet black hair that is pulled back into a long pony tail. She bids her parents goodbye and climbs into the carriage, sitting next to Abbie. Delphan reclaims his seat across from them and orders the driver to proceed.

Delphan returns to his papers, without so much as a word of introduction or explanation. Abbie and her seatmate look at each other, awkwardly.