Next Opening | 8th moon of the third month

Royal Consorts

Consorts are marked with green tags

Servants

Staff are marked with yellow tags

hierachy

In a court's harem, consorts are assigned to different hierarchies and levels. Please read and understand the ways of the court.

Companion Service

Hire a consort for company (SFW / NSFW)

1 hour ✽ 300,000g (Without Room)

1 hour ✽ 400,000g (With Tea-Booth)

1 hour ✽ 500,000g (With Room)

Hou Gong is a fully RP immersive venue in FFXIV that is based on the imperial harem of Chinese dynasties. As there are many rules and regulations in the palace, we ask that you read and understand the inside out of the harem.

• Check Hierachy Levels and keywords

What can you do in Hou Gong?

There is a variety of roles that you can play in Hou Gong. The default will be a Sovereign (King/Queen). Other ideas are exiled rebels, sneaking in, Nobles who had been given favor to a sovereign's consort, an imperial servant, a minister within the court and so much more. Please feel free to express your creativity, watching more period dramas could help as well!

✽ Personality ✽

A woman whose wiles extend to her work-- finding joy in a playful back and forth. She is not shy to take as short, or long as possible to get what she wants. As consort, her singular promise is to provide companionship in any way her lord for the night desires.

✽ Background ✽

An exile from her tribe, Kiyo would roam Shirogane briefly in her youth. Although an experienced craftsman, her physique and allure had become easier gil. She is naturally caring, and her stature only enforced the warmth of her embrace.She would eventually be adopted into The Harem, a handmaiden at first, brought to learn proper companionship. Kiyo finds life in her work, as if each sentiment from her partners is a precious spark to keep. On her fifth year as concubine, she immediately earned her seat as consort where she continues to provide relief and comfort to those who need it.

✽ The Arrival ✽

The woman looked at herself in her candlelit room. As still as possible. She sat in peace, soaking the flittering scent of lavender that just stayed beneath her nose. The sillage flowed with each practiced movement between the concubine and her handmaiden. Her naked self slowly took form once they finished brushing her long red hair, made to be as silken as the folded robe on her lap. It slid just as smoothly off her shoulders, letting it cascade down to form a lustrous scarlet curtain behind her."My dear?" Never losing her lovely tune. Kiyo continued to work on herself, loosely donning the folded red robe, and running her fingers through the rosey hems. She bore no hint of unnerve, in spite of her preparation for her first night as consort."Do you still remember how I taught you to tie it up?" She had taught her handmaiden no other answer:'Yes ma'am.' Replied the woman: a mundane, dressed-in-white, dull, miqo'te handmaiden. Humility was an important foundation, a right of passage. Compared to the shining grace of their ladies, what was a lowly maiden?Kiyo saw hers as an empty vessel, her blank canvass to paint and make pretty. As such, the Rava had made it her imperative to make, and mend her maiden's white garb. To be caught with a disheveled handmaiden was a clear reflection of her disgrace as their lady after all. And was her practice to show her appreciation and respect for her own."Show me." Her flickering emerald gaze eyed the handmaiden's resolve, which was met with an equally certain nod. To liven themselves, the Viera hummed a familiar song, while her handmaiden acted on the rehearsal. Thus was their relationship: rigor, perfection of their craft.She smoothed the piece meant for her waist, catching every misstep her handmaiden has made so far. As she ended singing, so did her servant. The Rava then looked at herself, offered one sigh of dejection-- mostly for show, and drew the pin that held her hair in place, undoing the maiden's hardwork."Again."She could recall the same, distant, droning, the same word drilled over and over when the would-be consort was still learning as handmaiden. "Again." She knew the strain it took. "Again." Minutes pass between each take. "Again." Until her handmaiden's fingers start to feel fickle, "Again." dwindling like the fading candlelight."Again."
"Again."
"Again."Until the pin dropped, immediately ending their practice. "Sit." and finally showing the proper procedure: a flowing, perfection of her art. Streams of scarlet purposely framed her brazenly freckled shoulders, the rest of her beauty was stuck in place by the pin, offering much more to imagine without the encumbrance of her hair. What remains covered offered her audience just enough motivation to wonder: a cascade of painted roses seemed to twine around her figure while she arranged the rest of her attire."It will be your turn someday, remember that." To be beautiful, to be wanted, so much so that she was worth keeping hidden from the world. What more could she want?Kiyohime need not look at her servant, knowing where the maiden's attention lay. "Make your mistakes while you're here. While I can watch over you." With that, she's ready."Now come with me. After this, you're relieved for the night. We resume tomorrow."She had a mere few seconds to adjust the strength of her stare, softening herself, letting the sheerness of her dress form around her figure as she walked from her room. One. Two. Three. She knew these halls too well, carrying herself to appear before the man responsible for her. And on the seventeenth pillar, on the eighty-fifth step, the doors would open,"How should I serve you today, my lovely majesty?" and she would claim her rightful place in this world.

✽ Personality ✽

Wears an outward appearance of naivety. His honeyed words served as a shield to hide his resentment towards nobility. Beneath his façade, Mihile was no stranger to deceit and betrayal, planting seeds of distrust and discord upon the ground he threads. Years spent entangled in the messy web of palace intrigue sharpened his pretences; oft posing no difficulty in mimicking one's joys and sorrows- his icy indifference concealed and sweetened with aptly worded sentiments. Only one with a discerning eye would feel unnerved by his presence, and to a fool- he was nothing more than a frail beauty who would soon wane as seasons change.Despite his cunning nature, he is doggedly loyal to those he serves. While cautious, he does not fear death, or pain, nor the notion of getting blood on his hands.

✽ Background ✽

Born into the underbelly of society. A man without roots. His hands were long tainted by blood upon the first blush of his youth. With his life fraught with uncertainty of the morrow, he could not help by turn his hatred to the nobility; their lofty villas, that oversees their kingdom, yet they remain wilfully ignorant to their plight of their people- shall have their wings clipped and their throne rise in ashes.His rootless life- however, soon became his advantage. He was plucked from his unfavourable circumstances by Noa, a consort whose resentment and ambitions seemed to resonate with his own. And with that, had won his undying loyalty. Threading the dedicate string of prying eyes, he earned his spot as a "eunuch"- made privy to all manners of gossips, woes-- or one's darkest secret.

✽ Arrival ✽

The moon glistened radiantly in its full splendour. There was not a single residence that was spared by its glow. The sight of the surrounding trees and flora was unparalleled, framed by intricately-carved pillars, it reminded him of the fantastical tales of eld- where immortals would dwell and waste their days away in abject idleness.Hushed whispers wafted through the shutters, dimmed figures seemingly deep in discussion, its finer details veiled from sight. A sharp command cuts through Mihile's curiosity, an brusque demand to not fall behind. His face crinkled with disdain, incensed by the act of authority upon him. Whilst underserved, he was in no position to refute the other. With great reluctance, he mirrored the stranger's flurry of steps, concealed by the dark of the moon, they journeyed through the winding maze of the palace grounds.Mihile scoffed under his breath as his "companion" exchanged obeisances, communicating in terms that eluded his ears. As the shutters drew open, the viera's presence immediately commanded his attention. Despite his unfavourable position of having to remain on his knees, Mihile- spurred by impulse, brazenly stole a glimpse of the man before him, and recognised a rare beauty. Beyond his appearance, it was that elegance- that even him, whose resolve was forged by the implacable flames of hatred, felt a chill in his bone. He felt his bitterness subside, now replaced with piqued interest, loss in his suppositions- of the man's circumstances---if they, in the same vein, hoped to see the world engulfed in flames.Seeing little cause to hide his nature, Mihile's lips widened to a mirth. His innermost sentiments an open book as he paid his obeisance. This time, with sublime confidence that he had met his match. This palace. He shall crush it under his feet." I pledge my loyalty to you, your highness. "

✽ Personality ✽

Inquisitive, affectionate and in some cases, an complete airhead. Lady Coco seeks to comfort the ailing heart and body. As an ex-business owner, she prefer to be hands on, wanting to experience the process herself and it has helped her become meticulous with her tasks. As a consort though...Well that's for you to find out no?

✽ Background ✽

Lady Coco grew up on the roads of the lands, she never was one to settle down in a place for too long. Which led her to the eventual visit to Hou Gong. After gaining the emperor's favor, she was granted a time with one of the consorts, through which she found something she was longing for.A place to settle down.She dabbled in multitudes of businesses, some successful, some not so. Though her forte was with the manufacturing and production of perfumes. She knew exactly what scent to produce for each occasion. While she may be a consort now, she may be still able to offering advice for your business. And who knows? She might even part with one of her rare perfumes for you to use.

✽ The Arrival ✽

"Again, I can carry them myself!" she was confused at the level of attention she's getting, having a maiden following her around was the least of her worries. She had been alone and working for herself for far too long, and this was an entirely new experience for her."What now? T-" and then a loud smack. The head concubine stepped in immediately."You would do well to remember that you are his majesty's prized possession." the head concubine snapped. Nata looked up at her, remember why she chose this path."I-I understand." she bowed, remembering what little she could of a quick crash course on mannerisms earlier. Usually she was on the receiving end of said mannerisms, so this was a little odd for her. After the head concubine made her exit, she sat down at the nearby bed. Left alone to her thought, she was trying to accept her new way of life.She stared at her belongings near the entrance, awkwardly moving towards it as she reached in and retrieved several bottles.Peony. Cedar. Jasmine. All perfumes crafted by her. She was used to selling the desire to be wanted, in the form of a scent. She knew what the commoners and nobles liked. And yet, her desires remain a mystery.Not too long after, she was led towards the throne room, dressed in the finest silk dress the land has to offer, and make-up that brought out her features. She took a deep breath and bowed."Your majesty."

✽ Personality ✽

A perfected soft lovely smile, an untainted snow-white visage. His gracefulness refined, his movements delicate; he carries himself with a demure disposition - charming, pleasant, and always willing to serve. Yet the frosted hues of his eyes carry an emptiness and sorrow unspoken of ; his frozen heart cries out for its warmth once more.

✽ Background ✽

He was given as a gift to the palace at a young age in an attempt to earn his family a comfortable position in the social ranks. The palace astrologist determined that his presence would bring the palace prosperity and immortality due to his ethereal beauty and birth star, believing him to be a mortal reincarnation of the rabbit on the moon. He was thus raised with utmost consideration in accordance to the astrologian's readings to join the palace harem.Due to the ambiguous appearance of Viera children he was initially raised as a female, learning poetry and music whilst adorned in intricately crafted dresses and gowns. Even when he was later revealed to be male, his upbringing changed little. The only unorthodox subject he was taught was alchemy, as the palace believed that as the rabbit on the moon, his elixirs would grant immortality.His charm combined with his attributed prosperity ultimately earned him the favour of the court, however, his heart yearned for another: his beloved teacher and aide, the palace astrologian. A member of the harem, jealous of his standing, alerted the court of his secret affairs, and the palace astrologian was beheaded before his very eyes, his gifts and love letters lit aflame as he was made to kneel in the remaining ashes.His lover's body tossed out to sea, he spent countless days and nights searching to give him a proper burial, refusing to return no matter how many guards they sent after him. His sorrow rendered him unresponsive for a long while, spending his days holed up in his chambers with naught but the memories of his love keeping him company. Even as he eventually returns to a semblance if his old self, his eyes have lost their warmth, his heart forever laying frozen in time.

✽ The Arrival ✽

Pearlescent white robes envelop the delicate form of a distant Viera, the silken fabrics flowing like soft snow amidst winter's cold with his every step; poised, graceful steps make their way towards your figure.He notices your presence, his painted lips curving a gentle smile so pretty and pure, his eyes shining with the glimmering radiance of the innocent moonlit night. They meet your own, holding your gaze for just a moment- before he bows with haste, noticing his own mistake. His cheeks bloomed a shade of blush like scattered petals upon fresh snow, he hides them under the shade of his sleeve as he scurries away.Vermillion red robes envelop the disheveled form of a distant Viera. His frosted eyes shine red with the scarlet reflection of flame as he screams, deranged. The air is littered with the fiery petals of fire. He struggles, tears flowing freely down his cheek like melted icicles, yet not enough to quell the fire, it's fiery petals littered in the air.Ebony black robes droop over his figure, he walks with the same graceful steps.he pauses, his hand over his chest as he bows; lips curving a gentle smile, cheeks dusted peony, yet his eyes fail to shine once more.

✽ The Personality ✽

A gentle smile masking its true intentions. Playful yet cunning, he gives off an aura likeable to all, with ulterior motives for his own agenda. A trained eye to detect the lie in others, he would play along in their scheme and dance to their music and use it against them when the time is right.

✽ The Background ✽

Born into a family of assassins, Lyulph has always been trained since young in the art of the blades, poison, and the likes. Not a day goes by without him being beaten into shape by his parents. One small mistake is all it takes to find him hanging upside down from the branch of a tree where he would be given an hour to free himself else he would find his head on the ground.Lurking around at night was his favorite pastime. He would practice his stealth, his aim, as well as watching from a distance, the beautiful and elegant dances of the people at the brothels.It all came to an abrupt end when he started working for the King as one of the most skillful assassin for his age, bathing himself in the blood of those who oppose the Lord.

✽ The Arrival ✽

The moonlit sky of the cold winter night envelops the forest in icy cold weather, ushering all to not venture out lest they freeze to death in the moment of their foolishness.The gentle breeze of the wind rustles the leaves and bushes ever so often, creating the melody of the night. They rise and fall rhythmically, like the Seeker's imperceptible breathing.Laying low between the bushes to preserve his body heat, the Seeker cat stares into the distance, calculating meticulously, his course of action. Waiting endlessly for
a shadow of a carriage to emerge from the depths of the forest, he rubs his palms together to generate what little heat he could get without making so much of a sound. Of course, he would rather stay in the comforts of his own abode like everybody else, but tonight, he has a mission. A mission so crucial he dared not fail else he would find his head flying across the prosecution halls of the palace back in the kingdom where he came from.Assigned to ambush and assassinate the carriage bound for the palace carrying a single Seeker cat none has seen neither a glimpse of his face nor his hide. To silently take over his spot and infiltrate the palace as a spy, chosen amongst the best of assassins handpicked by the King of the neighboring kingdom, his skills far outweigh the rest. His agility and swiftness in executing moves flowing effortlessly and silently, his prey falling in the blink of an eye as he flicks his knife to cleanse it off their blood. He had done this many a times, and tonight will just be another one in the books for him, his confidence emanating as he proudly touches the cold tip of his prized knife .
Not a moment too soon, the sounds of the hoofs of a mighty horse as it gallops elegantly cutting through the horizon could be heard over the distance. Alas, the carriage dyed in red, 2 wheels of gold, and silky smooth robe covering the opened window aisles made its way down the path of its imminent doom.His gaze was deadly silent as he locked onto the silhouette of his prey like a hungry lion. Without wasting a single breath, he leapt into the dark night, his black tail curled around his lean body, his straight black hair fluttering in the sky as he makes his entrance with his knife embedded in the unknowingly helpless prey's neck, giving him nae a single second to protect itself.A pity, he thought to himself as he studies the face of the still and lifeless body in front of him. Swapping their clothes and disposing the body in the hole he had dug prior, he swiftly went back and took his place in the carriage as the horse continued its journey to the palace with no wasted movement. Coming to a halt, he stepped out of his carriage as elegantly and beautifully as he was taught, bowing down to the guards as he made his way inside the palace.

✽ The Personality ✽

Well-versed in fine arts, Noa may seem like the personification of charm and elegance. However, one may never truly know him; a skilled masquerader who transitions between personas that best suits his agenda. To those worthy to be called an ally to him, Noa is cunning and sagacious with an eerily sharp acumen. However, to ones he deem his foes, he is cruel and vindictive and is unafraid to go any lengths to see his will be done.

✽ The Background ✽

Allegedly an illegimate child of a noble, it was unknown of how Noa managed to slither his way into favor and seizing the opportunity to the imperial selection; a phenomena unheard of within the upper echelons of nobility. Despite bearing the brunt of shame and humiliation with his existence being the glaring proof of his father’s infidelity, it only served as the grinding stone that sharpened the blade.As any noble, it was natural that he would grow to be familiar with the sword and fist just as much as other literary pursuits. In time, Noa also learned that not only had he inherited his father’s instincts, his appearance was of a splitting image of his mother; a famed, exquisite enchantress who snared the hearts of many despite being of lowblood. While she bemoaned the curse of her beauty, Noa brandished it like the finest rapier, the only inheritance in his possession wielded in his hands to claw his way to the top.For it was predetermined by fate that he would have nothing, Noa fought tooth and nail against his destiny. He revelled in what status and influence would give him, achieve what his mother could not. Seizing the opportunity from his full-blooded siblings to rise in hierarchy, Noa claimed himself a spot in the harem, where it is unknown what will truly be enough to satiate him.

✽ The Arrival ✽

He is more than aware of the eyes directed at him as he alights from his carriage, piercing into and through him even before his embroidered shoes touches the ground. The hem of his ramie-woven long robe trailed after him, akin to the flutter of a butterfly’s intricate wings. And just as seemingly insignificant, it set in motion a flurry of hushed whispers that he merely allows to wash over him.In the midst of the cacophony of muted tones, Noa keeps his gaze lowered; the very image of compliance and modesty. Despite the fragility he presents himself with being less expected of one his gender and stature, the viera wears it with utmost grace and poise. His lashes fan over cheeks of porcelain, the early morning sun casting faint shadows over his skin as smooth as jade.Demon, he hears them mutter the moment he steps within earshot. Have you heard of what he’s done? Of how he usurped the opportunity of the selection-His footsteps come to a pause. So do the voices. He feels their judgement again, and Noa welcomes it. He meets their prudence with composure, their scorn with a contemptuous dignity. He turns towards the direction of the voice.Then, he smiles.It starts with a faint curve of lips colored by balm. The mirth reaches his eyes, the mirrors to his soul mesmerising sapphires as they turn into twin crescents. A greeting follows, palm over fist with the posture one can only deem as perfection, honed by gruelling years of etiquette training. It leaves no room for criticism, save perhaps the blood that flows within his veins.He moves on.His pathetically small entourage trails after him past the grand doors, and the gates finally shut behind him.His smile twists into something else; something cruel, something sinister. Just as beautifully as his beauty bloomed as a rose, it withered away quickly, proclaiming its change with a putrid, rotting sweetness. Noa’s eyes lose their gentleness, crystalline sapphires now as sharp and cold as ice. He feels the tension of those around him, and his voice, velvet and warm, rings out.“Fret not, I would never jeopardise my place.” His warmth is but a farce, the and he is satisfied at how the underlying frost sends a shiver down others. Noa regards them with his cruel gaze, only to break the hold as his ‘handmaiden’ clears their throat.It only takes but the blink of an eye for him to regain his composure, the genteel beauty once again possessing him. Noa turns, and continues down the endless path to what awaits.Status, authority, and influence. He will have them all.

✽ Personality ✽

She has a tomboyish demeanor in nature, though she tries to hide it in accordance to the palace's regulations. She's a very impulsive woman when it comes to pleasure - sometimes charging head first into conflict or battle without a second thought (because she enjoys a good fight), and succumbing into desires more quickly than other people, but deep down she's a very empathetic woman, able to listen to and soothe her partner very well. She also has a good sense of humor, and not easily offended by other people's attempts at insult or taunts.

✽ Background ✽

Ivara would've spent her life training as a monk outside the empire, if not for the unexpected surprise of being chosen as a royal consort in the emperor's harem and brought to the palace, where she is expected to learn courtly manners and prepare for her role. Ivara struggled to adapt to the strict expectations of the palace, as the reason why she was brought there was still unbeknownst to her until this day. She's considered a new addition to the harem and is very eager to learn the ways of the palace as she discovers herself and if she really belongs there.

✽ The Arrival ✽

It was a cloudy day at the imperial palace, soldiers trotted around, servants were busy with their housework and civic duties. She let out a heavy sigh, wondering how she had ended up in this place. Feelings of doubt and uncertainty coursed through her mind. "What if the highness doesn't like how I look? Will I be considered brutish? Unladylike, perhaps?" These thoughts kept looping in her mind.As she tried to sort out her thoughts, she heard footsteps approaching her chamber. The door creaked open and figures dressed in silk fabric approached her. "It's time." It was the royal servants, signaling that it was time for her to prepare for the arrival of the highness.In a panic, she combed her long, flowy hair and tied the upper part of it with a hair stick. She took a deep breath. "Phew, alright...just like practice." Determined to make the best of her situation, she switched from her usual boyish nature to that of a virtuous maiden, graceful in each step she took. As she drew closer to the palace entrance, she saw the silhouette of a figure standing before her. She bowed delicately, showing her utmost respect."Your highness, it is so good to see you."

✽ Personality ✽

Meek, Shy, sometimes Cheerful

✽ Background ✽

Rosalia the lost girl whom been treated by kindness. She wouldn't be here if not for her majesty kindness to made her their consort."I am in your command, your majesty. Thank you, for showing the lost girl a way."

✽ The Arrival ✽

Is there a cost of running away from the kingdom where being born and living there for the rest of her life ?Rosalia the lost girl learned quite a hard way. She captured brought on to the unknown, where she was captured...blindfolded, been 'punished' in a cold palace dungeon. Rosalia been blindfolded,she then heard a voice of a man and felt the sharp blade on her chin lifted up."Be by my side if you want to live, lost girl..or rot here forever."
She raised her head to the voice and without a hesitation, "Please...help me, i want to live...longer, tell me what should i do...please..."The voice of a man then faded...
Rosalia then shouted,
"WAIT PLEASE DON'T LEAVE !!"Onto next day, Rosalia then been treated by the handmaiden giving her expensive accesories, robes. Then the handmaiden shown to the palace entrance to meet the majesty's room before the majesty entered. She sees herself at a mirror as a lost girl, a tortured soul that needs a rescue. She wouldn't be here if not for her majesty kindness to made her their consort.The hand maiden bowed and left them alone, Rosalia then...
"I am in your command, your majesty. Thank you, for showing the lost girl a way."

✽ Personality ✽

Reserved yet playful with a hint of mischievous, most time just flirty

✽ Background ✽

Once a treasure of the Ananta as Lady Lakshmi's chosen, she left her life of a brood mother for one where she will be able to live freely.Ruby was brought into Old Sharlayan by a travelling Forum member in Thavnair, where she was given education. Her keen interest in sorcery and medicine left her to work in the fields earlier than her peers.Under the supervision of an Forum member, she was able to travel outside Sharlayan, exploring distant lands as an asset to survey new magic and medicine.Though her job won't be stopping her from being flirtatious towards strangers~

✽ The Arrival ✽

She was not from this land, came on behest of the Forum for an investigation on the locals only to be kidnapped by them. 'no use of violence' said the Forum, clicking her tongue as she allowed herself to dragged along quietly with no clue of where she is.Shifted uncomfortably into the cloth covering her eyes with her hands tied behind her. She could hear a heavy bag fell on a table top, metal clicks together tightly as two men agreed to something. Focusing hard but it was too far for her to hear.A rough hand yanked the bind from her eyes, a blinding light made her turn away. Slowly her focus came, with it she almost forgot to breath. The elevated interior kept spotless with ladies adorned in lavish clothing and ornaments, maids behind to meet their needs.The man knelt down to remove all the bonds, with a grin on his face and a coin purse attached to his belt, he finally spoke in a heavy accent."Welcome to your new life"

✽ Personality ✽

Unassumingly sweet and lethargic yet dangerous. She is delusional and obsesses endlessly over the things she gets fixated on. Her innocent veneer and cruelty come hand-in-hand, which makes her wholly unrepentant for the harm she causes, exacerbated by her memory loss that causes her to lose large chunks of time. She enjoys watching others struggle. Games that aim to harm are a norm with her.

✽ Background ✽

Ume is known as the Plum Consort(梅妃) within the walls of the Imperial Palace after the numerous plum blossom trees in her courtyard. Whispers mention her to be a prized consort of the previous monarch driven mad following her long confinement in the Cold Palace, and that her current status in the harem was to right past wrongs. There are also rumors spread in the inner courts that she is a practitioner of black magic, but no one has ever found concrete proof to have her tried for sorcery. None could say for certain what is true and what is simply hogwash.

✽ The Arrival ✽

Hope and peace thoroughly disgusted the amnesiac princess.What did it matter that her imperial father offered her up as a flower to be plucked by the monarch of the neighboring kingdom? Nothing.She relished in the chaos that war brought; within its chaos was order. How she yearned for the touch of true freedom.I lost it. I lost it. I lost it.A eunuch led her through several long corridors before making their way through a maze of lanes surrounded by tall, imposing walls. From a seed of light in a dark corner, fog condensed into an apparition. It was a woman from beyond the world of eyes. Her mirror.Where is it? Where?She sat back on her heels with her feet close together, knees clamped shut, and back ramrod straight. Small hands were unclasped and rested on her thighs, palm-side down.I can't find it. Her. Me."You should be grateful to have received His Majesty's favor to enter the Imperial Harem. Your presence here is at His pleasure. As such, you must strive to please our Lord."The shade curtsied mockingly from behind the lavishly dressed elder woman that stared her down with such mirth in her eyes. Unfortunately for her, the noble princess, new addition to the harem, was not paying attention. She was transfixed by the phantom girl that shared her looks pointing to the water lilies outside the courtyard.There I am. Ume. My doll. Torn apart. Drowned in the deep, mud-filled pools. Everything I ever had is being taken away; my past, my present, my future, my very essence.My soul. My memory. Lost."Are you listening to me, foolish girl?"A soft giggle cut through the tense air. Instead of lowering her gaze, Ume stared up in unblinking defiance. The quiet snickering made way for maniacal cackles as she hunched over, murder glistening in her tear-filled eyes.Red.--She offered a vacant yet furtive smile. "You've come, Your Highness."

✽ Personality ✽

Jing Qin is a soft spoken girl, she'd rather play her songs than speak. Some mistake her for shy but this is not the case, many comment on how rare it is to see her smile.

✽ The Arrival ✽

"As promised- collected from near and far, the best of their pedigree." An old man dressed in expensive robes gestures to the lady of the establishment to look over a row of young women he'd brought in. As they passed each girl comments were made about how they'd displayed themselves for their review, elegant dresses coating their bodies, their hair tied back in buns and braids symbolizing their backgrounds and family with pins and jewels. The lady stood above one, signaling her out from the others with her gaze as she raised her fan to lift the girl's eyes to meet hers. "And who is this one?" The girl's expression stayed unchanged as she looks up at the woman quietly answering. "Jing Qin" she held eye contact with the woman watching as a decision about her own life was about to be made for her. "She has an interesting face. I'll take her." The woman declares before walking off to inspect the next, Jing's eyes fixating on the floor now. I guess this is my home now was the only thought that came to mind as she saw her own reflection on the polished floor.

✽ Personality ✽

Reserved and quiet, she appears strong to hide her softer persona, often sharp tongue, and hates being ignored and belittled. She will stab you if threatened. She keeps to herself and refused to bow to anyone, not even the sovereign, wishing only to free herself from the harem and live as a free adventurer. This has, unfortunately, got her into trouble quite often within the palace and the harem.

✽ Backstory ✽

Silvane was a flower granted to the sovereign, a cherished rarity due to her elvish blood combined with her odd red eye, known to others as a blessing but to her, a curse.Even after years of living within the palace walls, she had never quite adjusted to life in the harem, her stubbornness and unwillingness to corporate, on top of her fascination with battles and the art of the blade earned her quite a sour reputation within the harem. However, she continued to rise in the ranks, just enough for the others to leave her alone.Her stubbornness had also caused her to be kicked into the cold palace, each visit short-lived as she would soon be resummoned back into servitude again.

✽ The Arrival ✽

My child, you were birthed with a blessing.Her mother had always said, memories of the time when she had been plucked out of her family's embrace had faded, lost into the dreary clutches of time. Silvane could hear the chatters of nearby concubines passing the lattices of her room, whispers of how she had once more been brought back from the cold palace.She cared little for those talks, finding mundane conversation painfully boring. In fact, she found the cold palace to be much more warm and welcoming than the harem, oh how she longed to return back to those decaying walls and crumbling roofs, where she could study the blade and sing with little care.This isn't a blessing, it is a curse. Shackles of fate are burdened upon one's shoulders."Gui Fei," a sweet voice slices through her daydream, cutting into the fog of her thoughts. She raised her gaze to the handmaiden who had been dressing her. Her hair, long and ebony black has been pleated into braids, not a single strand out of place pulled and pinned back with elaborate jewels of gold and pearls. Her sleeves trail down to her knee, the thick collars of the silken robes weighing down on her shoulders. She sighed, looking at the person reflected in the copper mirror.The door opens with an announcement from those outside her door. Her handmaidens quickly bow in retreat, leaving her with the person who had just entered.Silvane pulls herself into a soft curtsey, speaking with the sweet mask she had on for years."Your majesty, thank you for showing this one mercy."