9. Concubine
Alexandria, Egypt, January 1539
I look out from the palace terrace towards the Citadel of Qaitbay at the entrance to the harbour. According to the sultan's talkative host, the citadel was built fifty or so years ago over the ruins of an ancient lighthouse. The whole city is an impressive sight and its history rivals that of Constantinople. I watch the bustling crowds far below me and let out a sigh of contentment. I hadn't fully appreciated how the confines of harem life was affecting me until we came here. The sea journey across the Meditteranean and the sights, sounds and smells of Alexandria have rekindled my eagerness for adventure.
The sea journey was memorable for another, more personal, reason. My harem training has made me more conscious of my own sexuality and, unfortunately, sexual frustration. Being thrust into close proximity of the ship's crew had unexpected and rewarding consequences. I never allowed the flirting and teasing to go too far, but the sailors' attentions gave me a brief and relatively harmless outlet to ease my own sexual desires.
Sultan Suleiman also made the journey special for Mihrimah. Now, for the first time, she has her own private income thanks to the generosity of her father. The taxes from a whole provincial town will go directly to Mihrimah in future. Apparently it is customary for the sultan to provide such a means of independent income for close family members when they reach maturity. Mihrimah has also been gifted title to other property by her father; a house and stables in Constantinople, and well as one slave … me! The change hasn't altered my duties or made any practical difference to my life. I suppose it is Mihrimah rather than the sultan who will be the source of my small stipend from now on, but otherwise everything has continued as before.
Ayşe and Nira will be surprised when they hear the news. The sultan only allows Mihrimah to bring one maid when they travel around the empire, and I was the obvious choice in the circumstances. Nevertheless, Ayşe and Nira were both relieved that I was the maid chosen. Neither of them are as adventurous as me and they both prefer the comfort and protection of the harem in Constantinople. Despite Mihrimah's absence, I suspect they are being kept busy with all the extra guests in the harem. I don't know why Ayşe and Nira haven't also been given to Mihrimah and it isn't my place to ask.
Living in ignorance of why events are happening is something I've quickly learned to endure. I still don't know why Sultan Suleiman has made the journey to this part of his empire so soon after returning to Constantinople. If Mihrimah knows why then she hasn't seen fit to tell me. At least Mihrimah and I have escaped the gaggle of sultanas who arrived for the celebrations in Constantinople, and who now seem reluctant to return to their homes. With the sultan no longer in Constantinople, their excuses for the delay in their departure will grow even weaker.
Mihrimah is busy with the women traders, choosing suitable gowns for the warmer climate of Egypt. Sultan Suleiman only gave Mihrimah an hour to prepare for this trip, which meant I had even less warning. Mihrimah left it to Ayşe and Nira to pack some clothes for her without telling them where we were going. In the event they chose warm winter clothes which are too heavy for the milder climate of Alexandria. My choice of clothes was much simpler. All my possessions fit into one small box, so I brought everything that I own.
I'm wearing my thinnest outfit, but I'm already starting to sweat despite the relatively early hour. I suspect that I'll be feeling very hot by late afternoon. I could accept the offer to borrow one of the palace slave uniforms but I'm uncomfortable with the thought of wearing something which exposes so much of my upper body in the company of men. Not that anyone seems to mind that the slave women in the palace are so scantily dressed. I've shed my initial inhibitions about nudity while I'm inside the harem, but in mixed company I'm still feeling shy and reserved. Looking at the murals painted on some of the palace walls, it seems that the minimalist style of clothing for servants and slaves is an ancient tradition in these parts.
My services as Mihrimah's unofficial bodyguard are not needed for the moment. Three Janissary guards are overseeing the traders, so Mihrimah has given me a few minutes to store my own meagre belongings and to explore our suite. I use the opportunity to include taking in the sights from the adjacent terrace. Subconsciously I make a note of any security weaknesses despite Mihrimah's confidence in her safety while we are inside the palace. Certainly the palace is well guarded, but such a large rambling complex isn't likely to be impregnable to a determined assassin.
Although I obeyed Mihrimah's order not to talk about the four pregnant young women being kept in the old palace harem, it was only a matter of days before one of the visiting sultanas talked about the impending births in Hürrem's presence. It was foolish to believe a secret like that would not become common knowledge once guests started being housed in the royal suites of the old palace. Hürrem's reaction was surprisingly restrained, suggesting that the news wasn't a surprise and that she may know more about the pregnancies than the four women themselves had believed. The identity of the father remains a closely guarded secret but he must surely be someone of the Ottoman dynasty. One of Sultan Suleiman's sons is the most likely parent, but if that's the case, then why the secrecy? I left Constantinople before Ayşe, Nira or I could discover the answer to that mystery.
I bring my attention back to the present. Mihrimah has finished with the traders and my services will be required. The garments which Mihrimah has chosen are laid out around the room and I promptly begin to put them away.
"Leave that one over there," says Mihrimah. "I'll change into it once I've had a bath."
I momentarily wonder whether Mihrimah is wanting me to prepare a bath for her, but I quickly recall that there are palace servants at her disposal to attend to such things. Two young girls, both about twelve years old, are waiting patiently by the door for just such a purpose. A command from Mihrimah sends both of the girls to the adjoining bathroom to prepare her bath.
Mihrimah's next command takes me completely by surprise. While the communal baths in the Imperial Harem are shared by all the women regardless of rank, Mihrimah has always preferred to bathe alone in a private bathroom near her suite. Consequently her instruction that I join her in her bath is unexpected. My momentary hesitation is from surprise rather than reluctance.
I follow Mihrimah into the bathroom. A sunken bath large enough for four or five people is set into the middle of the tiled floor. The two young slave girls stand to one side, ready to assist with the soaping and rinsing before Mihrimah enters the bath. While bathing customs seem to vary from one part of the empire to another, Mihrimah follows the tradition that cleaning the body is done outside of the bath, which is only entered for a final soak and relaxation. Inside the Imperial Harem in Constantinople there are different pools for cleaning and for relaxation.
I help Mihrimah to undress before removing my clothes. The two slave girls clean Mihrimah while I'm left to manage by myself. A short while later, the two of us enter the water. The water feels divine after enduring the limited washing facilities onboard the ship. Mihrimah dismisses the two slave girls with instructions to return in half an hour. Once they are gone, Mihrimah turns to face me and draws me towards her.
"How does it feel to be a Sultana's concubine?" she asks in a soft voice I've not heard her use before.
"I am your obedient slave, my Sultana," I reply evasively using a slave's standard response to ambiguous questions.
Mihrimah's use of the word 'concubine' has significant sexual overtones. Perhaps I was being naïve up until this moment. Perhaps the strict rules of the harem against intimate relationships between slaves has lulled me into assuming sultanas never engaged in such practises. In an instant I realise an important difference between being Mihrimah's slave rather than Sultan Suleiman's slave. The sultan no longer determines my fate and Mihrimah has absolute control over what happens to me. If she wants sex with me then I'm duty bound to comply regardless of my own feelings.
I would be lying if I said that I've never imagined having sex with a woman. The sexual training I received in the harem taught me how to arouse my own body, and by extension, those of other women. However, the biggest consequence of my training is to leave me constantly eager for sex. All the women owned by the sultan are periodically reminded that we may be called upon at any time to satisfy the sultan's desires. However, Sultan Suleiman makes little or no sexual use of those in his harem, so it is hardly surprising that some direct their pent-up desire towards the other women. The strict rules against fulfilment of those desires only increase the intensity of the sexual frustration that bubbles under the surface of harem life.
I respond to Mihrimah's advances in the way which I've been taught. I let her initiate the first physical contact before returning her caresses in kind. Despite our different social status, it seems we share a common bond in the degree of our sexual yearning. Being a slave, I'm not constrained by religious or social morals in the way Mihrimah will be. Consequently I allow her to determine the boundaries of this intimate liaison.
Our initial contact is gentle and tentative. Before long I realise that I'm the better trained of the two of us in what to do next. I do my best to restrain my burning passion which has suddenly been given the opportunity for fulfilment. If I advance too far before Mihrimah is ready, then I not only risk destroying this pleasant moment but being severely punished as well. So far Mihrimah seems eager to go further but I never forget that she is the one in control.
We both come close to reaching that state of bliss which I've only experienced once before during my training. An occasion when I was punished for my lack of control. Mihrimah suddenly has reservations about what we are doing and she brings our coupling to a rapid but gentle end.
"Sorry, Nilüfer," says Mihrimah, making an apology she has no need to give to a slave. "Not this time."
That Mihrimah is hinting of a further intimate liaison between us means far more to me than her apology. In truth I welcome the pause to gather my own thoughts and feelings. This has all happened so suddenly that I've responded by instinct and training alone. Perhaps I should have been more aware of Mihrimah's feelings towards me. Those furtive glances and seemingly casual contact which I've dismissed over recent months now take on new meaning. It occurs to me that while I've occasionally seen Mihrimah naked in the course of my duties as her maid, she has never seen me undressed before now. She clearly likes what she sees which boosts my feeling of contentment.
The two slave girls return with towels and set about drying Mihrimah. I'm left to dry myself and I'm still not quite finished when Mihrimah calls for me to help her dress in her new outfit. She isn't allowing me time to dress myself first, so I must perform the task naked while the two slave girls remove our towels and dirty clothing. My thinnest outfit is removed from the room, which is going to leave me with a choice between wearing one of my heavier dresses or to ask for one of the palace slave uniforms to be provided.
What I'm slow to realise is that Mihrimah is quite content for me to remain naked for the time being. Despite our intimacy in the bath, I start to feel uncomfortable at being made to carry out Mihrimah's instructions while undressed. There's a hint of sexual play in Mihrimah's orders and I detect signs that the sight of my naked body is arousing her. I obey as I must, although to me this is simply an exercise in dominance and forced submission. Since my enslavement, nobody has made me do this before and I'm uncertain how I feel about being treated this way. More than anything else, it makes me realise that I'm nothing more than a slave to do as my mistress bids. My unease is soon tempered by the discovery that my nakedness is my most powerful weapon. Rather than shield my nakedness from Mihrimah's eyes I brazenly display my most intimate parts for her gaze. It has the desired effect and the boundary between mistress and slave once again becomes blurred.
Her next order is for me to come with her into her bedroom. It's fortunate for both of us that Sultan Suleiman doesn't expect Mihrimah to join him until evening.