they drew near to the imperial gate, the high arch towered above them. Over a hundred guards patrolled every inch of the perimeter, keeping the palace free from attack. Surrounded by his escorts, Khadin rode inside. Though he held Laila closely, she kept her shoulders stiff in an effort to avoid his touch.
They rode past rows of marble columns and elaborate pavilions, the air redolent with fragrant flowers, though it was now autumn. Silence governed the palace, the hundreds of slaves moving about their duties with soft footsteps. It was an order that no man or woman should disturb the peace.
Khadin dismounted within the courtyard and lifted Laila down from the horse. Her face was gripped with fear, her dark brown eyes terrified. “Keep the cloak for now,” he bade her, “until more suitable clothing has been given to you.”
“You’re leaving me here?” she whispered.
He gave a tight nod. The private quarters of the harem were forbidden to all, save the eunuchs and the royal family. Surely it would be the safest place for her. He reached out to touch Laila’s hair, silently reassuring her that everything would be all right.
But he knew it might not be. Jealousy and vengeance were the darker shadows within the harem. Every woman held a rank, and Laila would be given the lowest place, commanded to serve the other ladies. This courageous woman, by all rights a Bedouin princess, deserved more.
Leave her be, his mind ordered. Your own life might end at dawn. Let her go.
But Laila was different from the others; a woman unafraid to look violence in the eye and face it with serenity. Someone who might grant him comfort, until he faced his father’s wrath or earned back his own redemption.
Khadin gestured for the kizlar a÷gasi, the chief black eunuch, to come forward. “Take her to the harem and prepare her. And tonight, bring her to me.”
Laila was taken aback by the extravagance of the Topkapi Palace. As the dark-skinned eunuch led her through the carriage gate and through the Court of Eunuchs, they reached a smaller courtyard which was guarded. Then, he brought her into the harem, where she heard nothing but the soft trickle of fountains and the occasional bird chirping. It was as if tranquility had locked itself within a shell of opulence.
The very walls gleamed with brilliant blue and gold porcelain tiles, the floors a cool marble beneath her feet. Once they were inside the harem, the eunuch led her through a maze of corridors where she saw hundreds of women. Some reclined upon divans while she heard the sound of water splashing in one of the baths nearby.
Despite the vast numbers, there was a hushed quality here, with a sensual and inviting atmosphere. She heard the soft sound of a stringed instrument being played while a young voice sang.
Laila held fast to the edges of Khadin’s cloak, unable to guess what would happen to her. The scent of his skin clung to the fabric, a spicy fragrance that made her hold it closer. More and more, she sensed that he was someone of importance. He’d known exactly where to take her within the palace, and he behaved as though it were familiar to him.
“The man who brought me here,” she whispered to the eunuch. “Khadin. He’s one of the princes, isn’t he?”
The eunuch inclined his head. “Indeed. And since he has ordered you brought to him this night, you will visit the hamam and be bathed and massaged, as is befitting the concubine of a prince.”
Laila didn’t respond. The burning need to escape, to flee this new prison, overwhelmed her. Never before had she been touched by a man, and the thought of succumbing her virtue was nothing less than terrifying. A Bedouin father could cut his daughter’s flesh into pieces if she surrendered her virginity in an act of lust.
Yet none of her family had survived.
Her heart mourned the loss. She’d been taken by the enemy, without knowing which of her tribe members had managed to flee. But not before she’d seen the fallen bodies of her father, mother, and younger brother. The grief welled up inside her, threatening to shatter the emotional shield she’d created.
Angrily she swiped at a tear. You cannot think of them now. No one will rescue you from this place. You must rely on yourself.
Why did Prince Khadin want her? Untrained in the arts of love, she had never known the affections of a man. And yet, she was meant to become his odalisque, a slave that he would use for his own pleasure. Allah, what could she do? Was there any way to avoid this fate?
The Topkapi Palace was unknown to her, for her family had dwelled in black tents along the coast of the Mediterranean, traveling from place to place. The thought of living here filled her with dismay and an urgency to run away. But how? Every corner was guarded by kapici, royal soldiers who would not hesitate to stop her from leaving. It would be unwise to risk it without understanding her surroundings. Her father had taught her to always think carefully before making a decision. For now, she needed to learn more about life within the harem and discover the best way to gain her freedom.
She caught one of the younger Circassian women smirking at her. With pale skin and deep green eyes, the woman lounged upon a divan, wearing a silken gömlek that displayed her generous curves. The look she offered Laila was one of smug superiority.
I am not one of you, Laila thought to herself. I’ll never be one of you.
She squared her shoulders and followed the eunuch down another corridor, past a group of dancers who swirled in circles, their veils and skirts clinging to slim legs. He took her into a smaller apartment, deep within the heart of the harem. “You will meet the valide sultana, Princess Mihrimah later,” he explained. “She governs the harem, along with the sultan’s wives. For now, I will take you to the vekil usta, Lady Murana. She will instruct you.”
Lady Murana was an older woman who wore robes colored a deep red while a white anteri tunic and úsalvar trousers were revealed beneath it. Her hair was hidden beneath a loosely fitted turban, and emeralds and diamonds adorned her throat and wrists. “You have brought me a new girl, Hakir?”
“I have, my lady. She has gained Prince Khadin’s favor, and he ordered her prepared for him this night.” The eunuch bowed and took his leave, while Laila was left standing with the woman.
Wrinkles creased Murana’s face as she walked a slow circle around Laila. “Remove the cloak,” she ordered.
Laila clenched the fabric tightly, and Murana sent her a cold stare. “If you are to survive this new life, you must learn to obey orders. The prince will not tolerate insolence, especially not from a slave.” Then the older woman softened slightly. “I know that the harem will be new to you, but you are among the blessed to be brought here.” She gently removed Laila’s outer cloak and inspected her, clucking her tongue with disapproval. With a sharp command to another slave, the older woman ordered food for her.
Once Laila had eaten, Lady Murana bid her to stand. “Come, and I will take you to the baths.”
The interior of the hamam was warm, with steam rising from the waters. Lady Murana gave her a pair of wooden clogs to protect her feet from the hot marble, and when Laila entered, she saw a dozen women talking softly to each other. Both dark-skinned and fair-skinned women sat amid the steam, their lush forms only reminding Laila of her own shortcomings. Her breasts were small, the size of apples, while her hips were too slender.
Laila sat upon a stool, to rest her aching feet while
