---
Vela's hands moved to Vera's shoulders, tracing circles across the smooth skin. The touch was familiar, it was instinctive, the kind of intimacy that required no explanation, no permission. They had been together since before memory, two halves of a whole, sharing blood and breath and the quiet hunger that defined their existence.
The candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows across their bodies.
"She is changing the house," Vela whispered, her lips brushing Vera's ear.
Vera closed her eyes, leaning into her sister's touch. "Yes."
"So are we."
The words hung in the air was a quiet declaration of their own worth. They were not first wife. They would never be. But they were the twins aka the first concubines, bound by something older and more intimate than any marriage vow. And that, too, had power.
Vela turned Vera to face her, their bodies flush, their hearts beating in unison. She lifted one hand to cup her sister's cheek, her thumb tracing the line of her jaw.
