She had been a slave for only five years, but her knowledge of the world was greater than most. These were not the tears of a frightened bride. They were the tears of a broken-hearted woman. But what had she to be broken-hearted about? Iris knew that Theadora did not wish to become a nun, so that was not it. There was only one other possibility, and it was so farfetched as to be absurd. Still…looking back over the princess’s behavior during these last two months, Iris began to understand many things.
Iris took a deep breath. What she was about to do was very dangerous. She had no proof and, cornered, the princess could instantly order her death. Iris leaned forward and said, very quietly, “If we are to talk, Highness, it must be now. Once we are in the palace we will be constantly spied upon, not only by the chief eunuch’s underlings, but by those in the pay of the sultan’s other two wives-and God only knows how many of his favorites. They will all seek to discredit you in an effort to advance themselves. If you would unburden yourself and tell me what troubles you, it must be now. Please, Highness. I wish to remain your friend, and it is obvious to me that you weep for a man.”
The violet eyes that raised themselves to hers were so filled with raw pain that Iris nearly wept herself. “I will tell you,” said Theadora, “for I must tell someone, or I will go mad. If you betray me you would be doing me a kindness for I would as soon be dead now.” And slowly the tender little story came out, haltingly, until there was nothing left to say.
Iris sighed. It would not be easy, but having allowed her mistress to shift some of the burden to her own shoulders, she could now concentrate on preparing the girl for what was to come.
“I will try to speak with the prince myself,” she promised Theadora, and was rewarded by a smile that lit the girl’s whole being. “But, my lady, you must accept the fact that you are the sultan’s wife. Tonight he will consummate that marriage, and you must accept that as fact also.”
“I thought he had forgotten me, Iris. Never since he brought me to St. Catherine’s has he even acknowledged my existence. Why now?”
“I do not know, my princess, but I think the answers we seek are to be found at the sultan’s palace. A word of warning, however, my princess. You are so innocent, and do not know the wicked ways of people. At the palace you must trust no one but me. When we wish to speak privately we must do so out of doors only. There are listeners everywhere.”
“You have been in the palace, Iris. What is it like? Will I have privacy, or do all the women live together?”
“One section of the palace is set aside for the women, but the wives and the favorites have their own apartments and rooms within this section. The chief eunuch appointed me your waiting woman, but you will be assigned other slaves and eunuchs. Your rank demands it.”
“Can we trust them, Iris?”
“No! They will all be spies for someone or other. But we will tolerate them for now, until we can choose our own people. Do not fear, my princess, I will protect you.”
The litter stopped, the curtains were drawn back, and Ali Yahya was handing Theadora out into a tiled courtyard. “Please to follow me, Your Highness,” he said. They followed him through a maze of corridors until he stopped before a single carved door and, opening it, led them into a small room. “Your bedroom is through there, princess.”
Iris looked unbelievingly about her. These two small rooms for her mistress? She said a quick silent prayer that she would live to see the next day, and rounded on the chief eunuch. “Is my mistress some slavegirl that you insult her in this fashion? These rooms are not fit for a dog let alone an emperor’s daughter! Two tiny rooms with two barred windows overlooking an inner courtyard? Where is her garden? Where are her servants?”
“Your mistress has not yet found favor with my master.”
“My mistress does not have to find favor with your master,” answered Iris boldly. “She is the emperor’s daughter! Why, her servants at St. Catherine’s were better housed than this! How the sultan will enjoy his wedding night when his bride complains of her apartments, I do not know.”
Ali Yahya looked uncomfortable. He did not believe that there was any chance of this inexperienced girl pleasing his very experienced, jaded master. Still, it could happen. And if it did…
“You fill the position I assigned to you most admirable, Iris,” he said sourly. “This is but a place for your mistress to rest. It was imperative that we bring her to the palace today, but her apartments could not be made ready in time. In another hour they will be fit to receive the princess. I will send a girl with something to eat, and by then all will be perfect,” he concluded, and gathering the shreds of his dignity about him, he departed quickly.
“Humph,” sniffed Iris. “The only snake wriggled out of that one fast enough.”
“It does not matter,” said Theadora softly.
“Yes it does! Whatever happens, my child, you must never forget that you are Theadora Cantacuzene, Emperor John’s daughter. Hold your head up in this place, my lady, else you will be overcome by your inferiors.”
Within the hour they were brought to a spacious suite containing six large, airy rooms and its own beautiful walled garden with several tiled fountains and a view of the mountains. “My lady is well pleased,” said Iris loftily, noting the dozen slavegirls and two black eunuchs.
Ali Yahya nodded. “Take your lady to the mistress of baths immediately. It will take the rest of the afternoon to prepare her for tonight.”
Usually the harem baths were noisy and full of chattering women. This afternoon, however, the women of the sultan’s house were being entertained by an elderly Egyptian magician. The bath mistress greeted Theadora briskly and before the startled princess knew what was happening she found herself completely stripped and her nude body subjected to a most thorough inspection. Her most intimate parts were squeezed, pulled apart, prodded, even smelled for signs of disease. Theadora blushed to the roots of her hair and felt a helpless sense of outraged shame.
Finally satisfied, the bath mistress stepped back. “Your body is flawless and healthy, Highness. You are as fresh as a new rose. I am relieved, for the sultan dislikes blemish of any kind. We can proceed now.”
Theadora had the urge to laugh. They were all so seriously concerned about her pleasing the sultan, yet she herself didn’t care. All she wanted was to be back at St. Catherine’s convent, preparing to meet Murad in the orchard. Murad! Murad! She silently intoned his name over and over as the women spread a pink paste smelling of almonds over the haired areas of her body.
Unknown to Theadora, the men’s baths were on the other side of the harem baths. And while she stood, quietly submitting, Orkhan’s favorite sons, Suleiman and Murad, sat companionably talking within the hot room.
“What is there to the rumor that John Cantacuzene seeks our aid against his son-in-law?” asked Murad.
“It’s true,” Suleiman assured him. “That’s why the maidenhead of the Princess Theadora will be breached tonight.”
Murad felt a wave of dizziness assail him. Unknowing, his brother continued. “The old man might have left the girl in her convent, but her father insisted that all the terms of the marriage contract be fulfilled. Our father couldn’t resist the final third of the little Byzantine’s dowry. That includes Tyzmpe, and I am going to be sent to command the fort. Want to come along?”
“Is the princess here yet?” Murad hoped he sounded casual.
“Yes. She’s a pretty piece, though a bit too pale to suit my taste. I caught a glimpse of her when she arrived this afternoon. Probably scared, poor little girl. Well, by morning she’ll be well-tamed. Our father may be old, but he can still leave a woman begging for more. May we be as potent as long, eh brother?”