“After all, Vahl is almost five, and planning a naming ceremony takes time.” Dahla gestured elegantly with a piece of candied fruit before popping it into her mouth.
Cahlila, expression unchanged, took a sip of wine. A sitting room full of her husband’s other wives might be hell, but it was a form of hell she was accustomed to. She was mildly surprised by Dahla’s latest move, although she shouldn’t have been. A naming ceremony, to designate Dahla’s son as the Emperor’s heir. Of course she was pushing for one, indecently early. Dahla was that sure she’d won. He should have married Dahla first.