Chapter 1

The only certainty in life is death.

This is the conclusion I came to, long ago. Some would say I was fortunate to have lived such long, prosperous life. But those are the ones blinded by the beauty of gold and palaces furnished with richly carved thrones and covered in the finest iznik tiles. Those do not see the price brought by attaining power and prestige. How the Persian rugs covering the marble floors and tapestries hanging proudly in the halls hide blood spilled from servants and princes alike. How the beautifully carved fountains of the gardens, with their melodic waters carry the bitter tears of the women serving in the Harem and the Viziers serving the Sultan. I do, I see it all, even hidden as they are. In my quest for supremacy within the Topkapi Palace, I have known victories and defeats, joy and bitterness. In my love for the Lord of Life, the Padishah, Suleyman, I have seen atrocities committed. I, myself, ordered some to be done. I am not proud of my path, but it was the only path to be taken. For the moment you lower your guard in this beautiful place that is the Ottoman Harem, you will lose all.

I was one of the kadins of the Sultan, a noble tribute from a Catholic Lord to his new suzerain, another addition to the already overflowing seraglio. I was brought as the alternative to the one poisoning the Lord of Life against his own family and friends. I was to turn our lord back to the golden path of Allah and protect him, and myself, from the poisonous viper within the Harem.

I am Haseki Mihrişah Sultan, the alternative to the russelana Hürrem Sultan.

I barely remember how I came to this life. So long ago it seems, but I do recall, clearly, the day I was taken from my family. My father, Catholic Lord under the leadership of Catholic King Louis, lost the battle against the infidel Ottomans, the conquering force some say were summoned by the Devil himself. Having lost the Battle of Mohács, he had no other choice but to swear fealty to the Sultan Suleyman, for the sake of our family and his people. But it came with great sacrifice, for I was chosen as tribute to the Sultan.

Chosen…more like stolen. But taken nonetheless. I saw my half-sisters and my dearest brother one last time, as they dragged me out of my mother's arms, and to the midst of their retreating army. The shock and sorrow of being torn from my family and the only home I had ever known blocked my memories of the journey through Europe, back to Istanbul. All I remember are flashes of colours and sounds without source. Everything else was buried in the sands of time. An older woman, taken for slavery was given the care of me on the voyage, ensuring I would survive. I don't know what her destiny was when we were separated and I was taken to the Topkapi Palace, but I pray she was well taken care of.

My first memories of the Topkapi Palace were halls. Halls, endless halls and arches. Endless gardens and more halls. We are dragged through endless paths, to the part of the Ottoman palace where the harem is kept. I was still in shock, too dazed to have noticed the path, to memorise the path they were taking us through, not knowing I would be lost later on. I saw nothing in detail, the path in front of me blurred by my shocked state. At last I snap out of the daze, as I walk through the last open door, flanked by bowing, unmoving men, dressed alike, entering a large room, filled with women, both on the ground as the higher level. Reality sinks heavily in my heart.

I was a slave destined for the Sultan.

Countless other women and some men, roamed the halls and the big room I had been brought, all of their eyes on us, newly arrivals. They didn't try to whisper, speaking out loud about us in the language of the Ottomans. I knew nothing of it, so the words sounded foreign and their meaning unknown to me. Women dressed in the same grey and blue dresses, some dressed in beautiful silks and jewellery. Men in blue garments guarded the doors, heads bowed down. Unmoving. My shock was replaced by curiosity, at least for the meantime. My surroundings were clean and preserved, women taking turns in tidying the room and other various tasks I wasn't aware of. Above us, on a mezzanine level above our heads, forming a corridor to other rooms, stood more silk-clad girls, speaking loudly among themselves, eyes turning from their companions to us, below. We huddled together, frantically looking around, fearful. One of these women, accompanied by an older woman, carrying a short staff, and one of the men standing at the doorways, stood in front of us, speaking in Turkish among themselves. The older woman gestured towards us, and the two other moved in our direction.

"Line up!" The younger woman spoke, in a loud tone, without yelling. We didn't move, which irritated both her and the man, who kept making funny gestures. "Line up, quickly!" She dragged us, one by one, with the help of the man, until we were in a well-defined line, along the middle of the room. Pleased, the older lady began examining us, one by one. She pulled one or another from the line, and those were dragged outside. I trembled in my spot, holding the dirt-stained, ragged dress I wore ever since departing from my home. It had been my best gown, given to me by my brother on my last name day. I had cherished it…I was brought out of my thoughts by the older lady, who grabbed my chin, pulling my head up to examine my face. I didn't look at her, keeping my eyes lowered, on the bodice of her gown. She released me and continued down the line, to my relief. 6 more girls were dragged outside, leaving fewer of us within. The older lady spoke to the other one, who nodded, and left. The younger one gathered us in a small group.

"Come, follow me to the baths." She told us and shepherded us out of the room and down another hall, into a room filled with steam and no furniture. "Strip and grab one of these towels and shoes. Then clean yourselves properly. When you're finished, you'll be examined by the harem doctor." She announced, handing everyone the items, and grabbing the dirty and ragged clothes we owned. She handed these to one of her helpers. The others helped us bathe, by collecting water from marble basins with golden pans, and pouring the water on our heads. Soap was passed around. The feeling of being clean, for the first time in weeks, was amazing. It cheered me and the future didn't seem as bleak as before. As soon as I felt human, the woman called us again to form a line. This part was embarrassing and humiliating, for the doctor didn't check us simply for diseases…but checked also our most intimate parts. First, she opened our mouths, checked our teeth, nose, eyes and ears. Then our bosoms, armpits, arms. Then she forced us to sit and open our legs, and proceeded to poke and prod our woman parts, without one moment of hesitation. I was glad when she gestured me to go, for I hurried away to the rest who had already been examined. Once all of us were given a passing note, the woman led us back to the same room we had arrived, earlier in the day. "Find a spot to sleep, in the room next door there are bedrolls, blankets and pillows. When you choose a spot to sleep, we'll get you a chest for your belongings and it'll remain there." She showed us where the bedrolls were and each of us gathered one and returned to the main room. On a raised area to the side, hidden from the main area by sheer curtains, some other women had already placed their bedrolls and were preparing to sleep, while chatting among themselves. They kept throwing glances at us, so it was obvious we were the topic of their conversations. I ignored them, not only because I couldn't understand them, but also because I couldn't be bothered to be annoyed by gossiping women. I placed my bedroll down, prepared my blanket and pillow and waited in front of it. All we had on was the towel we were given. The woman came to us, more relaxed, by the smile she wore on her face. "My name is Nigar Kalfa, I'm one of the kalfas of the Topkapi Saraiy. You are slaves of the harem of Sultan Suleyman, and from now on, you will live here. This is where you sleep and eat, and spend your time outside chores and lessons. For now, you'll sleep and replenish your strength. These clothes will be what you'll wear daily." Other women, dressed like Nigar Kalfa, approached each one of us with a pile of clothes. "Put on the nightdress and get in bed." She ordered, watching as we discarded the towels, which were collected by the other women, and did as ordered. When we were all in bed, the candles were put out and the curtains pulled together, closing us off from the rest of the room. I could hear whispers all around me, stifled giggles and the sort. But I kept to myself. Fear still held me, for I knew nothing of what would expect me when the sun rose the next day.

The next day was filled with little more than us idling in the large room. In the morning, voices echoed through the once silent room and people began to move, standing at once and readying themselves for the new day. I followed suit, putting on the dress given, which resembled the same as the others girls wore. We spoke little between us. Nigar Kalfa came to us and ordered the bedrolls to be put back in place and tidy up the room. When we returned from the storeroom, the room had transformed, with low couches and pillows occupying the space where the bedrolls had once been. Low, round tables were scattered, filled with food. Girls, both the ones in blue and the silk clad ones sat at these tables and ate, while chattering away. I shyly sat with other girls who had arrived the same day. We kept to ourselves, eating little and trying not to be conspicuous. No words were passed around, nothing could be said and we didn't know whether we spoke the same languages. We simply remained quiet. At the end of the meal, the large trays were picked up and taken away. We stayed sitting, looking at one another helplessly. It didn't last long. Nigar Kalfa arrived, followed by a man in blue robes, with a funny walk. She stopped where we sat and clapped.

"Get up, up." She ordered and we did so, walking down the few steps from the raised place where we were lounging. "This is Sümbul Agha, he is the chief of the harem aghas, the men you see around here. You shall respect him and obey without hesitation." She was interrupted by the arrival of an older, more dignified woman, carrying a short staff. "Daye Hatun…" Nigar Kalfa mumbled her greetings.

"Good day." The woman, Daye Hatun, looked at us, scattered across the room. "Get them in line, it's time." She nodded and stood aside. Both Nigar Kalfa and Sümbul Agha sprang into action.

"Line up, girls!" Nigar Kalfa called, gesturing us new slaves to stand in line. "Come now, hurry!" She insisted, Sümbul Aga dragging the slowest to the group. Tittering favourites and common Hatun stood around haphazardly, watching a ritual that wasn't rare, during times of war. When the girls calmed down and we were lined up, Daye Hatun walked in calmly. She stood in front of our line, eyeing each one of us at a time.

"Valide Sultan has chosen a name for you." She spoke loud and clear, in a tongue we could all understand. "You will forget the one you were given before, and with it, your past life. This is a new beginning. What will become of you is now in your hands. Whether you rise or you fall, is entirely of your making." The speech was both incentive and warning, I realised. She then began walking down the line, stopping in front of each girl, looking up and down as if measuring each one of us, before uttering the new word that would replace the old name. So nervous I was, most of the names went unheard. I was at the end of the line, I was the last to be given a name. I trembled, nervous, for I knew what it meant, when Daye Hatun finally stood in front of me and spoke the words that would be the end of my previous life and beginning of my life as slave and concubine to Sultan Suleyman.

"You'll be, from henceforth, Mihrişah."