#spent the morning wondering why no one had sent an eid message

[ramblingsofamelancholicsoul]

The world is on one side, and you are on the other. When I have you, I have no need for anyone else.

[time-to-go-97-blog]

Eva x Chris. Attention.

Dedicated to the wonderful @joyfullyqualitydaze because she leaves awesome messages on my fics which make me want to write more (go follow, guys). Also, she sent this amazing idea as a prompt; inspired by Charlie Puth’s Attention. Seriously, thank you so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️

-----

Although neither would dare to say it, they both attended these parties in the hopes of catching a glimpse of one another. Chris knew he shouldn’t be participating in such self-destructive behaviour, but when it came to Eva, all his self-control seems to vanish. He keeps telling himself that he needs to get over Eva, but she’s been plagueing his thoughts since the first time he saw her. Even when he was with Emma, all he thought of was Eva; what is she doing right now, is she alone, is she thinking of me? Although his brief stint with Emma didn’t last long, they’d lasted longer that Eva and Jonas who called things off a couple of days after the Eid party (Chris and Emma lasted a whole week longer, before he too broke up with her). It wasn’t Emma that was the problem, he realised, it was him and the fact that he was still hung up on Eva which just wasn’t fair on Emma.

Soon after his breakup, the games began. He’d overheard from a friend that she’d been talking about him to her own friends. They weren’t bad things; Eva wasn’t like that. It was mostly whisperings that she wanted to get back together with him. He had long since ruled that out, yet the words had made him dangerously hopeful at first, what are you doing to me, he thinks, it’s like you don’t want me to get over you. Eventually, he ruled it out as just being gossip. He didn’t want to get his hopes up just to have them crushed again.

Chris put it down to chance at first, but soon enough he realised that Eva happened to be at every party he attended, she knew that he had to be at at least one. Deep down though he didn’t mind, a part of him still loved seeing her. He loved seeing her dancing drunk and without a care in the world, it reminded him of when they were together and alone, dancing around her living room. It reminded him of the parties they used to attend together which always resulted in them hooking up. Now it was different. Sure, they were at the same party but they didn’t hook up with each other, not anymore. He’d seen the hurt in her eyes the first time he started kissing another girl across the room from her, but he refused to go and comfort her. She left the party shortly after, but returned with a vengeance. Each party was like an unspoken competition; they’d hook up with other people but always kept an eye out to see what the other person was doing. Chris could always feel her watching him as he walked around greeting friends and eventually finding a willing girl to hook up with. As much as Chris didn’t want to, he would always watch her too, his attention captured as soon as she arrived; she had a way of being the focus of a room lately.

He’d let his guard slip once. It was a month after the Eid party, and as usual she had been trying to catch his attention at a party. Chris should have been listening to the blonde-haired girl he was sat next to but Eva had just walked in slightly late as she always did. Maybe it was because Chris felt particularly lonely that evening and wanted something familiar or the fact that she looked so beautiful but his resolve weakened momentarily. She had made a beeline for the drinks, another trait of hers he had noticed over the weeks of watching her. After downing a few drinks and talking to several people, her smile bright, she made her way to the makeshift dance floor. It was like she knew he was watching her, as she started dancing seductively. It was like it was just a show for him, no one else and that hit him in his chest, he wanted that familiarity again. Her eyes were closed, her hair wild, her smile wide and she just looked so breathtakingly beautiful. Despite every nerve telling him not to, he leaves the girl he was sat next to without a word and slowly makes his way to Eva.

“Hi,” he whispers by her ear, she knows its Chris’ instantly and she swears her heart just skipped a beat. She hadn’t been so close to him in a month and they were both craving each other’s touch. They began to dance, fitting into each other with ease; they knew each other’s likes and dislikes all too well. Chris had missed her, just feeling her bare skin sent his heart to his stomach. Dancing led to the two hooking up, her pushed up against a dimly-lit wall near the back of the house, away from prying eyes. He wanted to pull away, he did, but he missed the feel of Eva in his arm, the feel of her hands exploring every inch of him. It was like she was his drug, he just needed to feel her once more and then he could quit her for good. But, a small yet prominent voice in his head kept speaking out. Chris kept telling himself that she just wants his attention, that she’ll just leave him again, that she doesn’t want a relationship with him at all. After all, she had shot down the idea of the two as couple before. He clenches his hand into a tight fist, the rational side in his head fighting with his physical urges. Here Eva was right in front of him, yet it wouldn’t last, she’d just leave him again in the morning. She flips him so that his back hits the wall and he can feel the rational side of him slipping away slowly as she continues; she knows all his soft spots and isn’t afraid to target them with her skilled tongue. He’s breathing heavily, his determination fading. Still, that small voice keeps telling him she only wants him to notice her again, his reluctance to be with her is still present and it pains him. She doesn’t want you to get over her, she doesn’t like seeing you with other people, he keeps telling himself chanting it in his head like a mantra. So, reluctantly pulling away, he looks Eva directly in the eye so she understands the finality of his words and says, “you just want attention.” He walks away before she has a chance to register his words and come up with another excuse. Oddly enough, he doesn’t regret kissing Eva that night, even though a small part of him thought he would. Maybe it’s the closure I need, he thinks. It’s not.

A week later, Chris is at another party, he doesn’t know whose, they were all starting to blur together; apart from last weeks, Eva’s dancing and kisses were permanently singed into his brain. Whatever her plan was, it had worked she had been in his thoughts all week. He was sat next to a red-head nursing a lukewarm beer; he couldn’t bring himself to get a new cup. The red-head had been talking non-stop for the last 15 minutes not caring about Chris’ non-committal shrugs. His mind was focused on other things and he just can’t bring himself to pay attention to what the girl next to him was saying. These random hook ups don’t bring him joy like they did before he was with Eva. He’d been checking his watch for the last ten minutes worried that she might not be coming today, she was more late than she usually was. The mere thought of not seeing her tonight saddens him and he’s scared to admit it for fear of what it means. But then she walks in, and he sits up straighter, eyes focused on her and her alone, the air in his lungs being sucked out at the sight of her sheer beauty. She’s confident and free with a wild glint in her eye that adds a sense of danger to her. She’s captured the attention of everyone in the room, including his. It was the dress. Red, and clinging to every curve with a plunging neckline that accentuated every asset. Her arms were bare and the dress swished enticingly around her legs mid-thigh. It was daring yet classy and Eva suited red. Hell, Eva suits everything, he thinks. Her legs looked much longer paired with the heels she’d worn. She was addictive and Chris couldn’t help the bubbles of jealousy rising in his chest at the thought of other men looking at her with prying eyes, just like he was. She just wants attention; he thinks repeatedly. But then she’s walking past him and her perfume attacks all his sense at once causing him to forget everything momentarily. He recognises it immediately, it’s the one she wore when they first met, it was worn when they used to go out for fancy meals, when he first realised he wanted to be with her, and Eva knew that he loved it; he had told her so many times. Eva had purposely worn it to get a reaction out of him; but to Chris, that evening, she was captivating.

The next hour was spent casting furtive glances at Eva. She was either talking to random people – Chris can’t help but notice they’re mostly guys – or she’s looking directly at him, shamelessly thanks to her confidence. At times, it was like she was contemplating something; other times, it was like he didn’t exist as she laughed whole-heartedly at whatever the people around her were saying. He’s jealous and he just wants to hold her close but he focuses on pushing those feelings aside. For a moment, all he feels is regret, for leaving her, for choosing Emma, for ignoring her recently but it’s all too late. Eventually, he suggests to the red-head that they leave.

They’re climbing into a taxi when Eva shouts at him to wait. She walks over to them and climbs in too leaving Chris and the red-head dumbfounded.

Eva turns to the driver, “hey, could you wait two minutes, another friend is coming, she’s just finding her jacket.” Her voice is friendly and causes Chris’ chest to hurt as memories flood back to him. Nights where she would assure him of his fears, days spent talking to him about her own fears.

She turns to face him, “Chris,” she says quietly, peering at him from her lashes. The sound of his name leaving her lips causes his heart to swell, her voice is soothing and he just wants her to whisper words in his ear. She places a hand on his leg, “why can’t we just talk? Clear the air, and stop whatever this is.”

The red-head pipes up trying to get his attention, “Chris, are we going to your place or mine?” but Chris’ eyes stay on Eva, a million thoughts flying around his head.

Eva fights the urge to roll her eyes, “you can leave,” she states bluntly her eyes leaving Chris’ for a second. She looks at him once again, “just please talk to me, give me a chance to explain.”

The red-head looks at Eva, “look, he clearly doesn’t know who you are-”

“Stay out of this,” Eva says sharply, cutting her off; Red was beginning to annoy her. “Leave,” Eva says venomously. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths, “Chris,” she tries reasoning again, “just come-”

“Get out,” Chris hisses quietly, cutting Eva off this time. Neither girl moves, both unsure who the request was directed at. Several heartbeats later, Chris still hasn’t made it clear who he wanted to leave. Eva was getting restless and nervous, she had decided she would try to talk to him today and if she failed or he shot her down, she would stop pursuing him, it was only fair for the two of them; no matter how heartbroken she’d be, she would have to let him go. Still hesitant, Eva takes his instruction personally, she turns to open the door when he grips onto her wrist. He turns to the red-head and mutters out a simple, “go.” As she climbs out, Eva gives her address to the taxi driver and expresses her gratitude that he waited. The taxi takes off and neither person speaks. It’s quiet and stiflingly uncomfortable, unspoken words hanging in the air. They’re both deep in thought, wanting to sift through their words and express them carefully rather than in a fit of anger. She speaks first.

“I want to give us a go, properly this time.”

“Why’s it taken you this long to tell me,” he blurts out.

“I’ve wanted to, I wanted to call but it seemed better to do this in person. Then I tried speaking to you at parties, then I stupidly tried getting your attention by hooking up with random people. Nothing worked,” she says, trying to get him to understand her despair.

“Why,” he questions again.

“I want us to give this a go,” she gestures to the space in between them, a desperate tone in her voice.  

He lets out a deep sigh, “you just hate the thought of me with someone new,” he tries to reason, more so with himself. “Like I said, you just want my attention, then you’ll leave, again,” the last part is spat out angrily.

“That’s not true,” she says defensively. “Besides, you didn’t seem to care about me when you left with Emma. This is both of our fault. Maybe I was too scared, maybe you weren’t ready, whatever the reason, we are both at fault. All I know is that no one else compares to what I feel when I’m with you.” She squeezes her eyes shut, blinking back tears and telling herself to be stronger.

“What are you doing to me,” he whispers.

“I promise, I’ll leave you alone if you say no, but just answer me this,” Eva takes a deep breath, “do you want to give us another go, a clean slate, properly this time?”

Yes, is the first thought to cross his mind. But he hesitates to answer, he needs to protect himself. Several minutes’ pass and he’s still lost in thought, biting into his lower lip. Memories of Eva and himself play on a continuous loop in his mind, they’re lying in bed facing each other and pouring their hearts out, he’s teaching her how to make the fluffiest pancakes and she’s singing at the top of her lungs sat in the passenger seat of his car, hair flying around almost like a halo.

He turns to Eva, meeting her eye, “please, don’t leave me again.”

“Never,” she whispers instantly. He pulls her into his side where she fits comfortably, they’ve long since memorised each other. As the taxi rolls to a stop outside her house, for Chris and Eva, everything feels right again.

[hogwartsforwriters]

It had been a blessed month in which I hadn’t gone out of the palace at all for good reason. It was Ramadan, and the whole household would be awake most of the night, enjoying long evenings filled with music, dancing, and plentiful of food and tea for the royal family. On occasion, a notable or a Paşa would be invited for the night and I thought I’d caught a glimpse of Mehmet Giray in one of those nights, but I wasn’t sure and I had no way of finding out for there was no one who could enlighten me without wondering why I cared. I had been chosen to accompany Fahriye Sultan for the next-to-last day of Ramadan and she had elected to take a walk in the garden in the afternoon, where a tent was already set up with the Imperial guards surrounding it. We could only perceive the left side of the setup, which restricted our vision to a dark green screen embroidered with gold and silver, and two guards.

It was the middle of December, meaning that everyone was heavily dressed in full sleeves, fur or wool capes and gloves. The grass was fully covered in snow, and not a sound was emitted aside from our boots crushing the snow and the distant murmurs of the Sultan and his male guests murmuring about what I figured was politics.

It’s fair to say that, when we finally reached the entrance of the tent and I saw who the Sultan’s guests were, I was genuinely shocked. There, hovering over a map laid out on a table, was Sultan Mehmet III with to his right, Mehmet Giray, and to his left, Şahin Giray. Upon noticing the arrival of Fahriye Sultan, the princes bowed briefly, though I could swear that I’d discerned a blush crossing Mehmet’s features. As I tried keeping a low profile, I found that Şahin kept trying to lock eyes with me, and when I finally obliged, he gave me a glance that I recognised from our training sessions. He was going to do something he thought was extremely clever, though most times it ended up being more reckless than successful.

Greetings were murmured, followed by polite small talk which usually bored me out of my wits, though in that moment I was trying to lock eyes with Şahin and try to dissuade him from whatever suicidal pattern he intended on drawing. His next unspoken message bid me to trust him, as he often did when trying to teach me weaponless self-defense. I then realised that I had been spending so much time with Şahin that I had gotten to know most of his personality as well as being able to read him like an open book. I unfortunately couldn’t say the same about my love interest, Dervish, who had been sent to Egypt to chaperone Humaşah Sultan who had just been married off to an Egyptian Pasha. With Dervish, I never knew where I stood, neither could I predict any of his actions; and this set me off, most of the time. With Şahin, it was different. From one look at him, I could discern his mood, emotions, and what his next move would be. I would later learn that I had acquired that skill from our sparring sessions, but in that moment it felt strange. And strange in an almost intimate way. So intimate, in fact, that the handmaiden to my left elbowed me slightly to remind me to keep my gaze averted from the Crimean prince.

“Fahriye, what brings you here on this ill-tempered day? Shouldn’t you be by the fire in your quarter or in mother’s?” His Majesty asked, making the fat of his enormous double chin wiggle with a chuckle. “I bored of the indoors. I thought to go for a ride on the steed that you so generously gifted me for my first wedding, and came to ask for permission.” Fahriye’s features radiated a warm smile I had never before seen on her widowed face. I wondered which of the brothers attracted her interest, until I heard Şahin’s voice interject. “Your Highness, I do believe that this day is perfect for a ride. This is, after all, the last Thursday of the blessed month. Anyone would want to go horseback riding.” I didn’t look up, at that moment, but I swore I could feel his gaze piercing through me. “Do you think I’m not looking, Şahin?” The Sultan’s voice suddenly took a menacing tone. “You’ve been eyeing my slave ever since the females appeared.” “I can keep no secrets from His Majesty,” Şahin chuckled. “Indeed, she is most interesting to me.” “In what aspect?” He asked, and I could feel his stare on me as well as the attention of everyone fixated on me for a while. “I wonder what she would look like as the centrepiece of an Eid entertainment.” Şahin declared, making my blood run cold. What exactly was he suggesting? “Indeed, she could do well. But she’s too dark for my taste.” The Sultan admitted before addressing me personally, making me quake with fear. “Come closer, Hatun.”

I shakily walked closer to the crowned heads, until I was only a few feet from the Sultan. I was downright quaking with fear from what might be the issue of the interaction, and I was determined to find a way of making Şahin pay for it… somehow. The Sultan walked over to me, closing the distance between us almost completely, as he unceremoniously lifted my chin with his forefinger, blowing his fasting breath on my face in cloudy mists. It took all my willpower not to cringe at the horrid smell as I let him inspect my face and body before he turned around to face Şahin again and grunt.

“She’s too dark. You can have her in your harem as a Eid gift, Giray, you deserve it.”

No one in the vicinity could tell if it was a compliment or the opposite that the Sultan had directed both at Şahin and at me. But one thing was sure, I would be Şahin’s property starting from Saturday night. I don’t exactly remember how I felt in that moment, to be frank, but what I do remember is that I kept praying for this to be one of Şahin’s plans to overthrow Mehmet III and not just the actual purchase of my person.

°•°•°•°

“… and then, Mahifiruze and Şehrazat are going to spread to reveal Alayssabat with the silk. At that moment, everyone else will still in this position, your fan covering your face and your other hand on your waist. Now, Alla, I’m going to need you to be seductive towards Şahin Giray—” Mihrimah, the dance teacher, instructed before I interrupted her. “What?” “His Majesty has offered you to the prince, Alayssabat, and there is but one outcome of this. Şahin wants to have an intercourse with you. You’re going to join his harem in the capital and accompany him if he chooses to go back to Crimea. And, in order to safeguard the reputation of the Ottoman harem, you need to at least satisfy him in bed. If he is displeased with you, I do fear for your fate and ours.” “Why would you fear for your fate?” I asked, aghast. “Simply because if you’re not good enough, none of us is. They’ll send us all to the Old Palace and replace us with new acquisitions. Our time would be over.” “Not to mention that, if it happens, we’d all be out to get our revenge on you, Alla, so you need to make that prince fall in love with you.” Mahifiruze warned me with a threat in her voice.

I shot her a condescending glance despite my slight panic at having the fate of the whole harem resting in my hands. The rest of that day was spent with the dressmaker, who took my measurements again for my performance outfit. I wasn’t given any information about what I would be wearing, and just sent off to rehearse some more. Only when I was confident that I had mastered the dance did i allow myself to have a meal.

That happened on Thursday night, and the dance would be on Saturday. Three people were working on my costume and most of the girls threw me uneasy glances all evening. I understood them, honestly, I wasn’t even sure that I was fit for the job myself. It was the very first time I was assigned to dance, since my primary function in the palace was _jariye_ and not a potential concubine. That, of course, had been Şuruk Hatun’s decision when, during my inspection after my first bath, she concluded that I was not a virgin. I hadn’t had time to die and be eligible for intercourse with a royal, and I wasn’t displeased. At least, until Şahin came up with his genius plan whose outcome I had yet to find out.

°•°•°•°

On Saturday morning, I took no part in the festivities. I barely even had the time to collect my Eid aspers before I was sent off for a last rehearsal before bathing. At around noon, I had a quick lunch with the girls and was again sent off for a last fitting of the costume I had yet to see.

“Get dressed, quickly, you’ve to dance in seven hours and this is twelve hours’ work.” The dressmaker, Halita Hatun, tossed a pearl white bundle at me as she sat herself on a wooden stool.

*Seven Hours Later*

Halita finally sat back on her stool with an exhausted sigh. “If you tear it or mistreat it, I might just faint. Please, be careful with it.” I nodded, still mesmerised by my reflection on the full length mirror. “Am I seriously expected to dance with this?” “You’re supposed to seduce the prince and look desirable, Hatun. And I’d say it has serious chances of working.” Mustafa Agha’s voice startled me as I turned to look at him. “Go get ready, the Giray brothers have just been announced.”

At receiving this bit of information, my heart started beating as fast as a caged bird’s wings. Mustafa escorted me to the beauty parlour, all the while silent and solemn. Did he fear being sent off to the Old Palace as well? I felt nothing but nerves as Mihrimah and Hatice Hatun fixed my hair and perfumed my body, respectively. My stomach tightened when Bulbul Agha came to announce that the princes were seated in the harem and waiting for the performance. All while fixing my hair, Mihrimah kept a flow of advice running through her lips, sometimes so subtle that it might have sounded like advice to herself. In any case, I was too nervous to pay attention to what she was saying. Approximately three minutes after Bulbul announced the princes, I was finally ready and given a full length mirror to inspect myself. When light finally hit my reflection, it felt like an anticlimactic moment. The person staring back blankly at me didn’t feel any different from usual. If anything, I didn’t like the way the costume hugged my body too tightly in the bust and how wide the skirt seemed, for such a light fabric. Although, in fact, the fabric from below my ribs to the golden, bejewelled belt was removable as part of the dance. The dress was made of a flowing kind of white silk, which moved as though through a light breeze at every one of my moves. I noticed two slits in the skirt, to allow me to move more freely and to show off my legs— or at least my calves. Hatice had given me an anklet which I was sure would be noticed, and the linked bracelet and ring of gold on my right hand wouldn’t go unnoticed as well. The dress was sleeveless, giving the impression of a twentieth century bra over a loose corset of silk. The pieces of silk covering my trunk were strategically fastened at the shoulder straps, in order for their extraction during the dance to happen as smoothly and sensually as possible.

°•°•°•°

As I was taken to the harem, escorted by the snappy pair of Mustafa and Bulbul Agha, I fought to keep my lunch where it ought to stay and to still my shaky legs. My hands felt sweaty, and I was starting to feel like I’d forgotten the steps to my dance. When we arrived at the front entrance, Bulbul penetrated the harem to ask the musicians to change the tune and the other girls to get ready for my dance, since they had been entertaining the princes while I was getting ready.

Standing next to me, and shielding me from the view of the people in the harem, Mustafa leaned towards me with his hands linked before him and murmured, “You’re going to be fine. And, God willing, your life will take its best turn tonight. You don’t need to be afraid, all you have to focus on is your dance. Forget that anyone is watching you, and everything will be all right.” He then glanced down at me for a second before adding, “Besides, you wouldn’t need a dance for Şahin Giray to want you.”

This made me emit a nervous chuckle, I didn’t say anything however and I was ever so thankful that I wouldn’t have to sing, for my voice had left me. My only wish was for no one to make me speak until my dance was over.

That was when it happened. The music shifted to a quiet violin chorus accompanied with ever so light taps on a lap drum and a few flying notes on a mandolin every ten seconds or so. My heart beat in sync with the drum as I smuggled myself in the midst of the dancers crowding at the entrance for my reveal. As we progressed through the harem and towards the guest of honour’s settlement, the violins grew stronger, the drum grew more erratic and faster, and the mandolin was giving steady strums. And when the music reached its peak, which coincided with all dancers being finally in place in front of the guests, all instruments stopped except for a single, high violin note as every dancer sank to the carpeted floor to reveal me, arms stretched as gracefully as I could when trying not to get sick, in the way that a bird would unfurl its wings.

The note, as well as my position, lasted for two excruciatingly slow seconds for effect, until the three other instruments picked up the music in a cheerful yet romantic melody, and I executed most of the steps with the girls backing me up as we were all parts of the choreography. I made a point of avoiding the guests’ area so as not to feel anxious about the brothers’ judgment on my dance.

And, naturally, when I focused most on avoiding them was when I accidentally made eye contact with Şahin and realised that he was literally the only one sitting behind a table of desserts while Valide Sultan Safiye was sat a little ways farther from him, stroking her white angora named Elizabeth. At that moment, my foot slipped on the carpet and I went a fraction of an inch from spraining my ankle. I caught myself in time so as not to get seriously hurt, but my mishap didn’t go unnoticed.

“Get a hold of yourself, for goodness’ sake!” Mahifiruze hissed at me when she was positioned behind me, the music drowning her voice from everyone but me and a few dancers.

I didn’t answer as I continued following the steps and felt my solo approaching dangerously. And when it did, all the girls started positioning themselves around me in a half circle, right hand on right hip and left hand holding up the fan to cover their face, one by one until I was the only one standing in the middle. The music then changed, with only the lap drum drawing intricate auditive patterns and making my heart follow each tap on the animal skin of the instrument. Slowly and inconspicuously, I placed my hands on my shoulders and got a hold of the silk. That moment was when I had to lock eyes with Şahin and start on the seduction. The drummer was installed on the upper floor and was watching my every move, for we depended on each other’s performance. I looked up at her briefly and then back at Şahin and in one swift move, I removed the sheets and at the same time the drum grew suddenly more intense as the rest of the instruments played for five more seconds before muting completely. My solo would only be supported by the sound of the lap drum.

It was obvious that I felt pretty satisfied with myself when I saw the genuine look of surprise cross Şahin’s features for half a second before he caught himself and got back to his cold demeanour.

As the steps suggested, after a minute of belly dancing to the sole sound of the drum, the violins picked up a background pattern as I approached Şahin and, after the girls who had been surrounding the prince had removed the table, kneeled less than a foot from him and slipped my perfume-scented silk accessory around the back of his neck, like a scarf. Holding both ends of the silk, I pulled his face close to mine and smirked before standing back up, leaving the silk hanging around his neck, and giving the last half minute of my dance with a sole silk veil. My last position, the one in which the music would stop, was after a twirl meant to spread about my skirt before I knelt down in front of Şahin, my rear seated on the soles of my feet and my bent knees visible from the slits of the skirt.

I drew heavy breaths as I closed my eyes and caught my breath in front of Şahin, grateful that he was the only one who could see I had my eyes closed. When I opened them again, something on the carpet between Şahin and me caught my eye. A single, small, purple handkerchief with golden hems was tossed between us. At that moment, I gave him a look of sheer horror. Was he serious? And he had the nerve to smirk and give a slow clap. I wanted to duel him right then and there, and nothing else. I wanted to communicate my displeasure with him, but the only way that I could do that at the moment was by glaring at him until my breath stilled. I picked up the handkerchief with obvious contempt in my expression and fixed my features before turning around and giving Safiye Sultan a courtesy and a small smile, to which she returned a nod and what I discerned as pride. That was extremely odd, having _Safiye Sultan_ proud of you. It was practically impossible, really. However, in that situation, it was understandable. The Crimean crown, though a property of the Ottoman throne, was still a significantly notable part of the kingdom. And by seducing the Crimean prince into wanting to bed me (which was what the purple handkerchief symbolised), I had upheld the reputation of the Ottoman harem and thus of its keeper: Safiye Sultan. Now, all I had left to do was avoid disappointing the prince _in bed…_ _This is going to be difficult._

°•°•°•°

I was immediately taken to the baths, in order to clean up any sheen of sweat my skin might have shown. I avoided wetting my hair as I rubbed soap on my skin as quickly as I could and rinsed off. I went the the beauty parlour again to slip on an amber dress whose fabric felt heavy yet soft against my skin. The buttons were in the back, so I had a girl help me wear it while I applied perfume on either side of my neck, right below my ears, and in my cleavage after some insistence on Mihrimah’s side. The dress had summer sleeves, linked only in the crooks of the elbows with small bejewelled clasps; and the lacy amber skirt had a slit in the middle which revealed a milky white underskirt. My hair was brushed again and curled in soft, undulating strands here and there, and a golden headdress kept together the strands which would have otherwise hung on either side of my face.

Thus was I dressed when I was escorted to the bedroom which had been prepared for Şahin Giray. When I was admitted inside, the candles had been lit and the doors to the balcony were open. Seeing that I had been thrust into the bedroom alone, I figured that I could go out and have some fresh, yet icy cold, air. My white-and-gold fabric shoes hit softly against the marble of the balcony as I felt a chill run through my body. Goose bumps appeared on my arms and my chest as I “bravely” made my way to the end of the balcony. Istanbul, under a thick layer of snow, looked like the most enchanting city since Olympus. The first few miles of the Mediterranean sea were frozen, keeping all boats away from the harbour. The sky was clear, that night, and the crescent moon shined nearly as brightly as a full moon would, illuminating the frozen shores and the snow-covered rooftops. No night was as bright as that night, and I felt that no night in the future would ever be. I drew in a deep breath, which burned my lungs, but I didn’t care. It felt nice. I felt _alive_.

“That was quite a show you put on, back there.” Şahin’s drawl made me jump. I turned around, releasing a breathy giggle which appeared in cloudy mists. He was leaning against the balcony doorway, legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded over his chest.“I didn’t hear you come in.” He raised his eyebrows and indicated the main doors of the bedroom. “I knocked.” I scoffed. It was just the two of us now, so I could act naturally in this situation. “I hardly believe that.” He scowled at me, although a small smirk was playing at the corners of his lips. It was as though he’d realised that even in a fancy dress or dancing the way that I did, I was still the same impertinent sparring partner that he was used to. I walked past him and sat, cross-legged on the bed, holding my joined ankles together with my right hand and disillusioning him completely from the femininity that I was supposed to be communicating. “So, what’s the plan?” He frowned minutely, not having moved an inch except to follow my moves with his curious gaze. “What plan?” Şahin asked, faking innocence. My heart skipped a beat. “Wasn’t this some sort of scheme? Suggesting Eid entertainment and throwing the purple handkerchief, and all that?” He turned in a swift move towards the room and bent over the small Persian table to take an almond and tossing it in his mouth, chewing it in loud cracks. “There is no plan. I just had that idea when I saw you as an obedient little servant, so very different from your usual… _tenacious_ self.” He grinned as he sipped on the tea I hadn’t noticed had been set before I got in. I tried to hide my shudder. “Şahin, you don’t expect me to… I mean, you don’t expect us to have an intercourse, right?” He smirked, making my stomach twist uncomfortably. “Why not? It’s still better than Mehmet.” Something told me that he didn’t think of his brother when he said that. My jaw went slack at his statement. “Şahin, I…” Words disappeared in my throat as, for the very first time, I didn’t feel safe in Şahin’s presence. He gave me an indulging look. “Yes?” “You know that I’m in lov—” “Ahhh yes, Dervish. Yes, I remember. And I also remember that he cannot even afford to marry a free, Muslim woman. So, a slave like yourself?” He scoffed exaggeratedly. “Forget it. You two are better off as star-crossed lovers who will only ever be able to steal kisses from one another.”

At that, my vision clouded as I leapt off of the bed and lunged at him, my fist ready to collide with his cheek. He somehow expected my move, especially since it took me three strides to reach him, and easily avoided my fist, using its strength to make me twirl around landing my back hard against his massive chest, holding my forearm against my stomach in an iron grip.

He then laughed heartily, brushing his bearded cheek against my ear as he asked, still laughing and probably tearing up a bit. “Did you honestly think that you could land a blow? I taught you everything you know, you weigh nothing against me in hand to hand combat, you innocent flower.” I tried to free myself from his grasp, but his grip was too strong. “Let go, Şahin.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, “Where are your manners, Alayssabat Hatun?” “Wherever you threw yours, Şehzade Şahin.” I bit back as venomously as I could. He chuckled again, softly. “Don’t worry, Alayssabat. I’ll be gentle, I promise you.” And with that, he buried his lips in the crook of my neck and planted a kiss which sent shivers down my spine. I chose that moment of weakness to extract myself from him and face him. I glared at him like I never had before.

I spoke one word, mustering all the coldness and steadiness that I could in my voice, unconsciously pointing my finger at him. “Don’t.” His face fell, suddenly. “Is this all because of Dervish? Do you seriously think—” “This isn’t because of anyone!” I exclaimed, my voice unwillingly loud. I quieted down. “This isn’t about anyone but me. Please don’t touch me or I swear to God that I will kill you.” He gave me a long, searching look, before sighing in what I recognised as defeat. “Fine… Fine, but would you mind sharing the bed?”

I was clearly taken aback by his reaction. I had expected him to ask for explanations. I considered what sharing the bed with him might entail, and I thought that if he understood now, he’d understand later that I wasn’t giving in. I was ready to die to get out of that situation. We went to bed after he removed his marine blue vest and boots and I kicked off my shoes. I lied down on the left of the bed, against the wall, and he kept an uncharacteristically respectful foot of space between us as he lied down on his back. For the first few minutes, we stayed awkwardly silent, staring at the canopy’s ceiling.

He cleared his throat and I heard him turn towards me. I feared the worst. “Do you snore?” I blinked several times and frowned, but kept my eyes on the ceiling. “Not that I know of, no. Do you?” He exhaled sharply in an attempt at a scoff or a chuckle, I couldn’t tell. “Do you think that I’d know? Anyone who might have slept with me would be too frightened to say the truth.” I turned to face the wall as I murmured, “Well, I guess you’ll find out tomorrow.” “Good night to you too, Alayssabat.”

°•°•°•°

_I was still frozen and wet, but I had managed to snatch a shirt which had been discarded by the men that found me. I was running as far away as I could from them, icy wind burning my lungs which had started making a worrying noise. I couldn’t feel my feet anymore, but I was pretty sure that I had stepped on a twig at some point and that I was bleeding. I didn’t care at that moment, I only needed to get away from my assailants. How I wished I still had my bow and arrows…_ _Finally, after what felt like an eternity of running through the frozen German forest, I caught sight of an abandoned shack. I didn’t miss a beat as I turned towards its location. I found the door hanging off its hinges, so I tried to keep it as upright as I could and to find any piece of furniture which could block it. When I did so, I also found a piece of rotten wood which would serve as my meager means of defence. As I backed into the corner of the shack which was opposite the entrance, I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my body and I screeched, trying my best to land a blow but failing. I knew what would happen next, oh I did…_

The next thing I knew, I was in bed with a rather annoyed Şahin trying to wake me up. I bolted upright and leapt off the bed in one move I wouldn’t have succeeded in, normally. I subconsciously hugged myself as I backed away from him towards the fireplace. I regarded him with utmost fear, despite knowing that he somehow wouldn’t hurt me. But he was a _man_, and men were… men were evil in the flesh.

With no control over my body whatsoever, I sank with my back against the wall, hugging my knees and sobbing uncontrollably. I hid my face and kept on crying until I felt the feeling quiet down within me. When I finally looked up, the look on Şahin’s face was not of annoyance, as I expected; nor was it of worry, as I’d dared to hope. No, the look on his face was utter shock, as though I had just done something he’d never had expected from me.

I wiped my tears, sniffling as I tried to conjure up my voice. “I— I’m sorry I woke you up.” To answer that, he marched slowly towards me and knelt down in front of me, leaving enough distance for me not to recoil. “What just happened?” He asked with a softness I didn’t know he had in him. “I was having a nightmare, I think that’s pretty clear.” I retorted, voice still low and tearful. “That was more than a nightmare, it felt like a hallucination or…” he trailed off, locking eyes with me with a pity I hated to discern in his features. I needed him to tell me to tough it up, that only children would be as weak, I wanted him to awaken the warrior in me. But instead, he regarded me as though he were my saviour and I despised that feeling. Lacking his motivation, I conjured up my own as I explained, “It was a memory, all right? Now let’s go back to sleep.” “Have you confessed it to anyone?” He asked, still using that infuriatingly soft tone. “Şuruk Hatun,” I managed through gritted teeth. “And that’s only because she asked why I was not… why I was already used.” “Did she help?” At that, I snapped. “Would you please stop pitying me so much, it’s frustrating! Tell me that I’m exaggerating, that I’m acting like a child, that I can tough it up! Anything but this, please!” I little short of yelled at the prince. “I don’t need to tell you to tough it up because you already are toughing it up. And sorry for being worried about you, Hatun, but after a year of being your tutor I came to care about you, to my great despair!” Şahin snapped right back at me. “This is hard for me too, I’m not used to feeling that way for anyone but Mehmet.” At that, I finally took a look at his fire lit face. The flames danced in his warm brown irises and, without giving it much thought, I leaned in and placed a shaky kiss on his lips. When I withdrew, he still had the same pleading look. He came to sit to my left, placing his arm around my shoulders and drawing me close to him. He was surprisingly warm and soft, two qualities I would never have expected from Şahin Giray. I looked back up at him and he brushed my last tear off of my cheek with his thumb. I rested my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Would you like to go back to bed?” He asked in a murmur that vibrated through his chest.

I nodded soundlessly and we resumed our position on the grey sheeted canopy bed, with the exception that I voluntarily snuggled against him. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. After ten minutes of deep breathing, I felt him tentatively run his fingers through my hair. I rearranged my position against him as a wordless authorisation to proceed with his ministrations. He obliged, and quite clumsily so, for I figured that he wasn’t used to this kind of relationship.

I lifted my head from his chest after some time and locked eyes with him in the dim lighting. After having given the matter some thought, I kissed him passionately and straddled him. He responded, tentatively at first, until he took the control of the situation for the rest of the night. I woke up that day to the feeling of Şahin’s arm tightening around my body as he slept. I tried to go back to sleep but I didn’t need it anymore, so I carefully extracted myself from his hold and got off the bed. I dressed back up, fastening what I could of the buttons, before slipping on Şahin’s vest and taking the cushions to form a comfortable seat in the balcony. I didn’t know how much time I had spent looking at the grey sky, knees bent against my body and arms folded over my legs in order to keep what little warmth I had within my body.

This was when I heard the doors to the balcony open to reveal Şahin in full attire except for the vest I had borrowed. He sat wordlessly next to me and I drew myself close to him, discreetly breathing in his familiar scent.

“Good morning.” I muttered after a few minutes, my voice coming out hoarse. “Good morning.” His response felt somewhat cold, and I wondered what I had done wrong. I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked up at him. “Are you all right?” He barely spared me a glance as he replied, “Are you?” I rearranged my position so as to face him and folded my arms over my chest. “All right, speak up. What’s wrong?” He regarded me with a coldness he meant as intimidating, but I knew him all too well to be fooled. He wavered and, in a frustrated sigh, he hissed, “You have absolutely no respect for me.” I kept myself from scoffing at the last second and merely blinked at him. “How could you say, or even think that?” “Are you serious? From the day we met, you spoke to me with nothing but disdain, only using my rightful title sarcastically.” I placed my hand on his folded arms and locked eyes with him. “Şahin, I have as much respect for you as you have for me. It’s the way I behave with everyone that I know, unless they’re people who have power to take away food or shelter. I am not high born as you are, I have to stomp down on my pride on a daily basis to afford food, shelter, and clothing; but I digress. I do respect you, I merely got used to treating you as my equal.” I knew that I hit a sensitive note when I said that I treated him as my equal; after all, I was still a slave and he was still a prince, but I felt like lying to him would be contradictory with my claims. “Your equal?” Şahin asked, raising an eyebrow. A small smile crept across my features as I nudged his chest through his shirt and murmured, “Do you expect anyone else to be as honest with you as I am? Perhaps your brother, but I somehow doubt he would tell you the truths that you don’t like to hear.” I was proud of my argument as I saw how he fought to admit it. “The truths that I don’t want to hear? Such as..?” He asked challengingly, unconsciously puffing up his chest. I suddenly wore an uneasy expression, in order to throw him off, and muttered, “Well, about your snoring for instance.” I paused for effect and locked eyes with him, and I was proud to notice his brow creasing minutely before I gave a toothy grin. “You don’t snore, not at all.” His face broke into a chuckle and he pushed me lightly away. “You silly creature…” I leaned forward and murmured, “You like your silly creature…” before planting a soft kiss on his lips, to which he responded by cupping my face and snaking his arm around my body, pulling me closer to him. I broke the kiss to take a long look at him and run my thumb across his bearded cheek. He looked at me searchingly. “Why have you changed your mind?”

I then realised that I had completely forgotten about Dervish, who would be coming home to the palace in a few days and would find out that I had taken the opportunity to bed Şahin Giray and become his concubine. Oh, I knew perfectly what he’d think. He would think that I accepted to be Şahin’s concubine in order to rule over Crimea and perhaps bear heirs to the throne, and live as a queen. That was exactly what he would have thought, and seeing my current situation, he might have been right. That was the fact which was unnerving, that he might have been right. Although, to be frank, I wasn’t exactly sure what had changed my mind. Perhaps was it the fact that I felt safe with Şahin after the nightmare, despite having been the trigger to it.

I drew in a deep breath and pressed my lips together, shaking my head ever so slightly. “I’m not sure… it just felt right.” “Does it still feel right?” I nodded wordlessly, letting a small smile form on my face. He ran his fingers through my hair and tucked a strand behind my right ear. “I’m starving, we should get ready for breakfast.” He announced, though we hadn’t moved an inch from our position. “I’m mostly displeased with the cold, let’s go in.” I suggested, standing up from his lap, where our kisses had landed me, and extending my hand to help him up. He stood up, tucking his shirt into his pants as I entered the bedroom, already loosening up the buttons on his vest. “Will you be keeping that, Alayssabat Sultan?” Şahin asked sarcastically as I opened the vest and held it widely for him to slip into. “I am not pregnant, Şehzade.” I retorted, looking for where I had flung my shoes as I fastened his vest. “You might be, and if that’s the case, your title will change.” He said, as a matter of fact. I ignored his statement by moving my hair from my back and asking, “Is the dress well fastened?” “Do I look like a _jariye_ to you?” Şahin asked, faking outrage. I leaned my back against his chest and looked up at him, grinning widely. “You had no problem removing this dress last night, what changed?”

I felt a frustrated growl rumble within his chest and through to my back as he made me stand upright again and fastened the dozen or so buttons which I had linked to the wrong slits. When he was finished, he snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me against his chest again, stealing a kiss.

“Thank you, Şahin.” I murmured, facing him. “I will get ready for breakfast.”

°•°•°•°

A bath and a change of dress later, I made my way back to the bedroom which had been magically cleaned and where a copious breakfast was served. I checked the balcony for Şahin, but he once again would be coming after me. I debated whether I ought to start eating, but I decided against it as I stayed in the balcony which I had started taking a liking to.

My mind had gone far in the future when I heard the doorman announce a royal. “His Majesty—!” He was interrupted by the doors flinging open and both Giray brothers penetrating the bedroom, closely followed by Mustafa Agha. Upon seeing the third party, I gave a courtesy to the princes.

“Oh, you’re here already. I came to announce that you would be moving to the Giray house by the end of today, your belongings are on their way there as we speak.” Mustafa announced with a hint of pride. I gave him a warm smile. “Thank you for everything, Mustafa Agha.”

He returned the smile with a secrecy I was most confused at discerning. Was I missing out on something?

Şahin raised a hand. “You are dismissed, Agha.” Mustafa bowed. “Şehzade.” And he left. I let a few seconds stretch before remarking, “You could have been nicer, Şahin.” I then directed a friendly beam at Mehmet. “It’s lovely to see you, Mehmet.” He grinned back. “Likewise, Alayssabat. I see you’ve been enjoying yourself.” Mehmet concluded, his gaze shifting between his brother and me. I hated to feel my cheeks burn as I immediately justified myself, “It wasn’t exactly meant to happen.” “It was to me,” Şahin shrugged as he went back inside the bedroom, settled down, and started eating. I rolled my eyes at his statement and followed him inside. “Pour me a tea, will you?” I demanded in mock haughtiness. He raised what he thought was a threatening eyebrow, which made me giggle as I sat on the cushion next to his. “Your impertinence is really getting old, Alayssabat.” I reached up and kissed his cheek. “You know I was being funny.” I murmured as I poured three glasses of tea while Mehmet sat across from us. “You two look like a couple, and I have to admit that it’s frightening.” Mehmet shuddered exaggeratedly as he accepted his glass. “Aside from the physical closeness, I’m the same as ever with Şahin. With you as well, in fact.” I stated as I placed Şahin’s glass in front of him. “And pray do tell, what is that supposed to mean?” Şahin asked me, accepting his tea. “Certainly not what you have in mind, Şehzade.” I replied, taking a hold of my tea and warming my fingers through the glass.

He was going to retort when a knock came on the door. Before Şahin could object, Mehmet admitted whoever was behind the door and it turned out to be Reyhan Agha.

As soon as the doors closed, I muttered, “Reyhan Agha? But… aren’t you supposed to be in Egypt?” He raised an eyebrow. “So it _is_ true, then.” “Is _what_ true, Reyhan?” Mehmet asked with a hint of annoyance.

Reyhan glared at me for a second before changing the subject, much to Şahin’s frustration as he grunted in response to Reyhan’s greeting. Now, in a normal situation, I would have tried to soothe Şahin and his anger issues, but in that case, it was I who needed the soothing. What exactly was Reyhan’s issue with me?

“Why weren’t you announced?” Şahin asked through gritted teeth, in a scarily calm tone. “I thought that your visit to the palace meant a mission was in progress.” He gave a fleeting glance in my direction, though not fleeting enough for Şahin to miss the implication. “I was mistaken, and I apologise.” I exchanged a look with Mehmet who appeared to be suppressing a snicker. My gaze then became questioning as he wet his bottom lip and nibbled on a baklava. As I turned again towards Şahin, barely a second after Reyhan had apologised, I noticed the elder Giray tracing the lines of a dark red Lokum cube with his thumb. He looked pensive.

“To whom?” Were his only words. “Excuse me, Şehzade?” “To whom do you apologise?” Şahin then looked up from the candy and shot an icy glare right into Reyhan’s unsuspecting eyes. “Uh— well, to y—” He started, only to be interrupted by Şahin standing up to face the eunuch properly. “Because there was nearly no insult towards me or Mehmet. Your coming here is a demonstration of loyal services and assiduity.” He then extended his arm towards me and continued, “But what about the implication toward her?” “I… am not sure I understand, Şehzade.” His voice betrayed panic I hated to sympathise with. “You insulted her while she is in her own right, Reyhan Agha. She’s no longer a member of your harem, she is _my_ concubine and no one else’s. Understood?” Reyhan bowed to him and then repeated the courtesy to me, which I found most embarrassing. “My deepest apologies if I offended you, Alayssabat Hatun.” “Sultan.” Şahin corrected, making me mentally face palm. “Alayssabat Sultan.”

Reyhan quickly escaped the situation by knocking for the doormen to let him out. I sighed audibly as Şahin came to sit back down next to me.

He gave me a look I understood. “What?” I was not going to argue his actions, not so easily. I picked up my tea and took a sip. “Nothing.” It was his turn to sigh. “Speak.” “You did not have to defend me.” I stated, using my tea as a distraction from the incoming argument. “If I hadn’t said anything, you wouldn’t have been satisfied, either. What was I to do?” His frustration was clearly audible in his tone of voice. “I never asked anyone to help me in such a situation.” I replied coldly, the sweetened tea feeling suddenly sour in my mouth. “Oh is that so? Because I distinctly recall you yelling for help in your sleep last night—” Şahin interrupted himself mid-sentence, perhaps realising that he had gone too far. Mehmet made to stand up. “I’ll leave you two—” “No!” I nearly bellowed, standing up myself and smoothing the skirt of my dress. “I’m leaving, you stay here and enjoy your breakfast.” Şahin had found his voice again as he cleared his throat and began, “Alayssabat, I—” “Don’t. I’ll see you in the evening.” “You… will?” He seemed taken off guard by my statement.

I turned around and faced him. He had such an unfamiliar expression of guilt and confusion that he felt like a completely different person. He was, in a way, and I would never know him in the way that I had before.

“Do I have a choice?” I hated how low my voice had got during my emotional silence.

Not expecting a reply, I flung the doors open and made my way to the harem I knew I would miss. I was found by my backup dancers of yesterday who either congratulated me or deemed me lucky. I would have preferred to be in their place, merely a witness to one’s privilege. I would have liked for them not to see me as the centrepiece of that day. It took Mihrimah, my best friend in the palace, shooing them off to calm me down. I wasn’t a very enthusiastic person at the best of times, but that moment was just the worst for me to be the centre of attention.

°•°•°•°

After the sundown prayer, I was given a rather fancy coat to wear over my dress; the kind only given to the most appreciated concubines of the harem. It was shaped like a heavy, long sleeved dress with buttons on the left of the bust rather than down the middle. It was made out of warm, marine blue material which felt like cashmere but looked like velvet; and it had light grey embroidery on the forearms of the sleeves and framing the neckline and buttons.

The coat felt like the confirmation of my new status in the society I had learned to be a part of, and it somehow made me tear up. I was building something I knew I would have to abandon at some point in the future, and the worst part was that I was starting to get attached to its elements. I was in deep trouble, to say the least.

Waiting for me in the entrance hall were the princes, all four of them. Mehmet and Şahin, but also Mahmud and Ahmed, the Sultan’s sons, and their mothers: Halime and Handan, respectively. And at the end of the row was someone I had not expected would bid me goodbye: Safiye Sultan herself.

I advanced shakily toward the assembly line and bowed before Handan Sultan, Halime Sultan, Şehzade Mahmud, and when I arrived in front of Şehzade Ahmed and was about to bow, he did the most unexpected thing. Little Ahmed quite literally jumped and gave me the tightest hug a child of his size could give. I had never known that he liked me as much as he showed at that instant. It is fair to say that I was startled, and so were all of the others in line. I knelt in order to keep my balance and hugged him back as tightly as I could, only waiting for him to let go. When he did, I arranged his tiny, dark green, satin turban when he pulled back and gave him my warmest smile. That small person had brightened up my whole day.

“Will you visit me?” Ahmed asked, worry tainting his innocent voice. “I’ll try my best, Şehzade. If they allow me, of course.” He spread his little arms about him. “Well I allow you! I’m a Prince and I allow you to visit me.” I gave a brief glance at Safiye Sultan, who nodded minutely, before widening my smile at the young one. “I will, then. I can’t wait to see you again, Şehzade.” “Yay!” Ahmed cheered as he threw his arms around me again. Then came Safiye’s turn to bid me goodbye. I gave a considerable courtesy, and I only stood straight again when she signalled it to me with a wave of her hand.

We locked eyes for almost a minute before she spoke. “Never forget where you came from, Alayssabat Hatun.”

Though it was meant to remind me that Safiye Sultan had been the one to enable me to become the concubine of a prince, the effect ran much deeper through my memories. Flashes of my childhood, and mostly of my time as a lady’s maid, invaded my thoughts like a battalion of feelings. I was thankfully able to mask my emotions as I gave her a final bow and a small, grateful smile.

*•*•*•*

I would spend the whole ride, which was about an hour, looking thoughtfully through one of the holes in the wood carving which constituted the closest thing to a window. Şahin was about to speak about four times, but decided against it at the last second; which I was grateful for. Thinking about Aline made me in no mood to speak to anyone, much less him. Mehmet was riding on his mare, leading the coach to the Giray house.

I wordlessly exited the coach with help from Mehmet, who frowned minutely at seeing me looking upset.

“Is something the matter?” He asked in a hushed whisper before signalling towards Şahin in a nod. I shook my head and tried to grin. “No, I figure I’m only tired. Not to mention that I said goodbye to the girls in the harem today.” He gave a long nod as Şahin stood by my side and offered me his arm, which I accepted. “It’s not really as though you’re never seeing them again. You’ll accompany Şahin on official visits, like yesterday was.” I nodded back to him, not bothering to try for a smile anymore. “All right.” I then turned to Şahin. “May I please be excused?” We had just penetrated the nightly familiar entrance, and I was more than ready to be left alone. Şahin seemed taken aback by my request, but still he indicated the staircase to me. “Certainly. Hayriye Hatun will show you to your chamber.”

Hayriye had just come out of what I would learn to be the kitchen when Şahin mentioned her, which was a smooth transition as I immediately followed her upstairs. She showed me to a room in front of the one she used to dress me in, which I was thankful for. The dressing room was full of memories and I didn’t want it tainted by my current mood.

When she opened the double doors, I was met with a decent-sized, nicely decorated room. There was, however, an issue. The room contained no windows. I had gotten used to constantly be able to view the sky, and this made the room feel stifling. The coat which once made me feel regal was strangling me. I asked Hayriye where I could place it, and she immediately started unbuttoning it.

I held her hands in mine. “I can manage.” She smiled indulgently. “I know you can, Alayssabat Sultan, but this is my purpose. Especially now that you’re here as his Majesty’s concubine.”

I tried to argue but my vocal chords wouldn’t cooperate with my mind, and so I just let her dress me into a lighter indoor gown. Its colour reminded me of coffee and its ornamental embroidery was like the foam of a freshly brewed coffee cup.