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"What's this?" Elliot looked to his mother when she placed some parchment in front of him.
"The queen is accepting concubines. You're one of the few selected to apply."
"Okay?" Elliot wasn't sure what that had to do with anything.
"So fill it out. You made it to the final twenty so you have a good chance to be chosen. Get this family in good graces with the queen."
Or he comes off as desperate. A marriage to a noble girl seemed much more secure. Elliot kept those thought to himself and looked at the sheet in front of him.
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"How do I even answer beauty? That's subjective."
"Do four. Five comes off as egotistical." His mother answered.
"I'm not symmetrical and I have glasses. Biologically three is more accurate..."
"Four, trust me. A concubine should be pretty. She'll get an image of you to judge for herself as well, it's not that important." She dismissed his concern with the wave of her hand. "Continue. Oh, and your style is a two. That makes up for your looks being four instead of five. An explanation."
"Of course, mother."
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