5-5. Return to the New Palace.
Hürrem's injuries soon heal and there is no further mention of the assault on her. Even in private, Hürrem never mentions the attack. It's clear that she knows something about Sümbul Aga's investigation which isn't being shared with the rest of the harem. Even the gossip about the attack soon stops due to the lack of fresh information to fuel the intrigue. Life returns to normal for most of the harem. But not for me.
I don't fool myself into believing I can replace Hürrem in Sultan Suleiman's eyes. There is a strong bond developing between them. I hesitate to call it love since I've no experience in how true love really appears. Even the Valide seems resigned to the almost constant presence of Hürrem in the sultan's personal life. As for me, the fire inside me which the sultan ignited during our night together begins to falter.
Falter, but not extinguish entirely. I don't allow my disappointment to overwhelm me. Unlike Fidan, I don't sulk or mope about lost opportunities. I study hard. I also follow Esme's example and keep an eye on what is going on around me inside the harem. Keeping track of the constant change of friendships and alliances is an art that takes a lot of practise. Through my observations I detect a growing amount of unease among the girls about their life in the Imperial Harem.
If the stories are true, then many of the previous sultans have made regular use of the girls in their harems. This not only keeps the sultan well entertained, but also provides many girls with the opportunity for advancement within the harem hierarchy. The hatun in the harem exist solely for purpose of entertaining the sultan and providing royal babies. To achieve this mission, hatun are trained in many arts to provide the sultan with the most exquisite entertainment. But like a well trained soldier, a hatun can become restive if her skills are not used. Between them, Sultan Suleiman, Hürrem and Mahidevran have condemned the rest of the harem to idleness. In this environment, idleness soon becomes dangerous. No amount of lessons and chores can suppress the tendency for bored girls to get into mischief. Daye Hatun and Nigar Kalfa do their best to contain the growing trouble, but they are powerless to remedy the cause.
The Valide has plenty of experience in managing the harem and the growing unease cannot have escaped her notice. Unfortunately she must rely on the cooperation of Sultan Suleiman to solve the problem, and that cooperation doesn't seem to be forthcoming. Even Mahidevran appears to have been cast aside in favour of Hürrem. The sultan visits Hürrem every morning and the only thing preventing him calling her to his room every night is Hürrem's advancing pregnancy. The doctors are satisfied with the progress of Hürrem's pregnancy, but advise her to rest more often. When the sultan hears of this advice he promptly stops calling Hürrem to his room at night.
Rumours are starting to spread of another war brewing … this time in the east. Whether the rumours are true or not, the sultan is kept busy. It also provides enough fresh material to keep the gossip-makers in the harem out of mischief. Nobody expects the sultan to call another girl to his bed, so the purpose of Daye Hatun's visit to the harem one afternoon takes everyone by surprise. I'm to go to Sultan Suleiman's room tonight.
Enough time has passed since my last visit to the sultan's room for me to know that our previous union hasn't resulted in a child. When I shared that piece of news with Hürrem, she struggled to contain her glee. She at least made an effort to disguise her happiness on that occasion, but she makes no such attempt to hide her displeasure at my summons tonight. I can't tell whether her anger is directed at me or the sultan … I suspect both of us. I'm not in the mood for trying to mollify Hürrem's temper, so I arrange for Esme to sit with Hürrem while I prepare for tonight.
Once again Fatma and Efsun are to escort me to and from the New Palace. I'm pleased that Sümbul Aga has selected the same pair as last time; not because they are close friends, but because they and I share a similar taste in clothes. My own dresses and jewellery are good enough for everyday use, but only the jacket the sultan gave me is suitable for an occasion like tonight. For the rest of my attire I must again rely on the common collection of clothing provided by the Valide. Selecting something suitable is a considerable challenge, and I value Fatma and Efsun's advice.
I feel very apprehensive about my preparations for tonight despite having done this once before. I suppose I've only myself to blame. It was my comment about the pointlessness of some of the customary preparations that struck a chord with the sultan. Do I now attempt to put my words into practise, or do I conform with tradition and show my brave words were nothing but empty talk. Is the sultan aware of my dilemma and is he testing me?
"I shall wear my hair loose," I say when Efsun brings the combs and clips to fix my hair.
If Efsun is surprised by my deliberate break with tradition, she takes it in her stride. We know each other well enough for her to be aware of my occasionally rebellious nature. If I'm to succeed in achieving my ambitions, then I must take a few risks tonight. I take a few more risks with my preparations, but they are for the sultan to discover later … assuming our union progresses far enough for it to matter.
We arrive at the New Palace at the appointed time and are met by Ibrahim. Last time I was here, Ibrahim made a point of trying to intimidate me. Tonight he is more polite and simply announces my arrival. Ibrahim indicates I should enter the room and Efsun quickly wishes me good luck before we part.
Ibrahim leaves as soon as I'm inside the sultan's room. By tradition, the sultan should be standing facing the door so that I can kneel before him and kiss the hem of his gown. It was where he stood on the previous occasion when I was in this room. This time, however, he is standing on the large balcony looking out over the palace grounds to the city and harbour beyond. What am I supposed to do now?
I quickly think through my options. Ibrahim wouldn't have allowed me to enter the room if Sultan Suleiman isn't ready to receive me. The sultan's preoccupation with the view from the balcony must be a deliberate ploy to test me. I could wait where I am until the sultan decides to acknowledge my presence, or I could move to the balcony and stand next to him. The first option is safer, but my instincts tell me to risk his displeasure by joining him on the balcony.
"Good evening, Gülnihal," says Sultan Suleiman as I draw level with him.
I quickly drop into a curtsey and reach for the hem of his gown so that I may kiss it. He prevents me from completing my task by placing his hand under my chin and gently forcing me to stand.
"Good evening, Majesty," I reply as soon as the sultan removes his hand from my chin. "The city looks so quiet and peaceful in the moonlight."
"Yes. But appearances can be deceiving, can't they, Gülnihal?" says the sultan.
"In what way, Majesty? I see no signs of trouble in the city," I reply, recalling the time when we were in real danger from those in the city.
"The city is never totally at peace despite what we can see. But it is not the city's appearance which is deceiving. It is yours."
"Mine?!" I say is alarm.
"Yes. You live in my harem and dress in a slave girl's attire. But you don't always behave like a slave girl is expected to behave."
"I am nevertheless your slave," I reply. "I must obey your commands without question, or face the consequences."
"Indeed you are my slave," muses the sultan. "I don't doubt that you would do your best to obey whatever order I gave you, regardless of how unpleasant you find that order. I'm not questioning your loyalty or obedience. I have a harem full of girls who will obey me without hesitation. What I seem to lack is a woman who both understands my wishes and is capable of acting independently of my commands. Are you the woman I am seeking?"
"How can I answer that question?" I reply. "Independence and slavery aren't compatible conditions. In the Imperial Harem, slaves are taught only to obey. Independent thought is discouraged. You and your forebears have had centuries to perfect the training of your slaves to mould them into the perfect objects that you apparently desire."
"What is perfect for one person is rarely the same for another," sighs Sultan Suleiman. "Tradition is slow to adapt. In times of rapid change it can become a hindrance. I recall that you made a few remarks about tradition the last time we were alone."
"Yes, I remember," I reply.
I'm not certain where this conversation is leading, but I sense the sultan is wanting me to do something spontaneous to please him. Perhaps he is tired of issuing orders all of the time. I take a deep breath and reach out for his hand. If I've misjudged his mood I could be in serious trouble. Touching the sultan without permission is tantamount to an assault. Fortunately for me he doesn't resist when I take his hand and guide him back into the room.
"I haven't had the opportunity to thank you properly for this beautiful jacket," I purr in a seductive tone … well, what I hope is a seductive tone.
"It does suit you rather well, and it is no less than you deserve," replies the sultan, lightly touching the jacket in the area of my breasts.
Tradition says we should eat before we move onto more intimate games. There is food laid out ready on the table. It would be easy to guide Sultan Suleiman towards the table, but I fear the building heat between us would be lost if I chose the table in preference to the bed. I move slightly so that his hand is touching me more firmly. The closeness of our bodies is starting to work magic on my senses. My actions become less deliberate as my mounting desire drives me onwards. Before I know it, the sultan has picked me up and has deposited me on his bed. Both sets of clothes disappear from our bodies in the midst of passionate kissing and fondling. In less than a minute we are entwined as though we are a single body. The games begin in earnest.
Hours later, exhaustion eventually overtakes the sultan and he falls asleep while he lying on top of me. I wait a few minutes before gently rolling him off me. I'm sore in several places and I'll no doubt be sporting a number of bruises in the morning. But I don't regret a single second of our rough and tumble. I haven't bothered counting the number of times we coupled. Now I'm both hungry and tired. I sneak out of bed and help myself to a few titbits of food before returning to lie next to the sleeping sultan. Once my immediate hunger is appeased I settle down to a contented sleep. Whatever happens now, I know I have done my best tonight.
I wake in the morning to find the sultan has already risen and is working at his desk. The food from last night has been removed, and a light breakfast is laid out on the table.
"Good morning, Majesty," I say once I've shaken the sleep from my eyes. "You should have woken me earlier."
"It wasn't necessary, Gülnihal," replies the sultan. "You need to be fresh for this morning."
"What do you mean, Majesty?" I ask.
"I have sent your maids back to the Old Palace," replies the sultan. "I'm inviting you to stay with me this morning. If that is acceptable to you."
"I am yours to command, Majesty," I reply automatically.
"Yes, you are. But I'm not commanding that you to remain. I am asking you whether you wish to remain."