“He is a kind man,” Bezime said. “But troubled. He lost his family to disease years ago and is still plagued by nightmares. I worry for him. He does not sleep well.”
“It’s very sad,” I said. “He told me he’d lost a child, but I was unaware of the details.”
“Two children, during some dreadful epidemic. His wife, too, all a very long time ago. This sort of wound, though, does not heal well. I still mourn my own son.”
“The sultan, Abdül Aziz?”
“Yes,” she said. “I will never forget when they took the throne from him. The minister of war came to the palace to drag him away. I fought that dreadful man off—scratched his face, pushed him to the ground—but there was no stopping him. He took my son and imprisoned him.”
“I had no idea your son was deposed.”
“Yes. And he died not long after. Cut his wrists with a scissors I’d given him to trim his beard.”
“I don’t even know what to say. I’m so terribly sorry.”
“It was my fault. I killed him.”
“No, no. Of course not. You couldn’t have—”
She stopped me and placed a cold hand on mine. “Enough of this. I tell you only so you know I am familiar with the pain shared by both Mr. Sutcliffe and Ceyden’s father. There is no grief worse than that from losing a child.”
“I can only imagine,” I said.
“Yes, for now. You, Emily, blame your troubles on the Bosphorus?”
“Seasickness is—”
“You are not seasick. You are with child.”
“I... well... it may be, but I—”
“I am already certain. Your own confirmation will come soon enough. But it is most disturbing to me. Nothing good will come from this situation.”
“Why would you say such a thing?”
“I have read your charts, chanted for you, done all that I can to see your future. You are not on the right path.”
I hardly knew how to react. I was stunned that she would say such a thing, horrified she would address so delicate a subject with someone she knew only slightly, and I was more than a little scared, for she seemed to know definitively the answer to a question I’d been afraid even to pose. “I don’t think you should—”
“No, of course you do not. You are unused to people speaking directly about this topic, and the terror in your eyes would be readable even to a fool. Does your husband know of your condition?”
“I don’t know that I even have a condition,” I said. “There have been some signs, but—”
“There can be no doubt. I have much experience in these matters.”
“I’d prefer not to discuss it. I’m here to talk about Ceyden.”
“I have no interest in that subject today.”
“Then it seems I have wasted a trip.” I rose from the sofa.
“You will go from me now, but when you want to come back, it will be too late,” she said. “Think carefully, Emily, before you cross through those doors. I have looked into the future.”
“I don’t believe in any of this. You can’t possibly know—”
“I know what the future holds at this moment. The choices you make from now on may change your course, but you must walk with trepidation and make no mistakes if you’re to have any chance at escaping your current fate.”
I stood up, stormed across the room, but could not quite bring myself to leave. I turned back towards her. “Why would you tell me something like this?”
“I like you, Emily. You deserve the warning.”
Chapter 9
Rather than wait for my husband on the steps of the Archaeological Museum, as we’d planned, I paced the perimeter of the first courtyard at Topkapı, looking for him on the path that led to the museum. Bezime’s words had sickened me. My temples throbbed, my stomach would not stop twisting around itself, and my mind was full of fear. I saw Colin as he walked through the gate, arms crossed, tension in every calculated step he took. He called out when he caught sight of me and waved, but as I reached out for his hand when he stood before me, his eyes flashed a combination of concern and anger.
“Did you omit anything when you told me what happened at Yıldız yesterday?”
“No, of course not,” I said. “You’re awfully accusatory.”
“I can’t say I much liked receiving a visit from the British consul telling me that you and I have been banned from there.”
“From Yıldız?”
“Yes.”
“Heavens,” I said, rolling my eyes and starting for the museum’s steps. The neoclassical building had opened not more than a year earlier, and although it was not so large as the British Museum, I’d looked forward to viewing the collection from the moment I’d read about it on the train. “If I’ve given that much insult, I’d certainly like to have known at the time I was doing it. I might have rather enjoyed it.”
“This isn’t amusing, Emily. Did you promise to help someone escape from the harem?”
“I—how—” I closed my eyes, sighed hard. “I didn’t say I would help her escape.”
“But you spoke to the sultan about it?”
“I asked him in general terms if he would consider arranging a marriage for her.”
“And this is why you were removed with such force? Why you had bruises on your arms?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And you con ve niently neglected telling me that particular detail,” he said. “How could you think broaching such a topic to the sultan would be appropriate?”
“She’s living like a slave.”
“And a loveless marriage would be an improvement?”
“I don’t know. She’s converted to Christianity, Colin, and is living in a state of mortal sin. She’s embraced the work of St. Thomas Aquinas.”
“Aquinas? The same who said, ‘Drink to the point of hilarity’?”
“It’s not a joke. She’s very serious about her faith and is tortured at not being able to walk away from sin.”
“I cannot believe this.” He turned away from me, walked towards the museum entrance, put his hand on the door, then turned back. “This is not some diversion. We’ve been granted access—unprecedented access, I might add—to the sultan and his harem because both the British and Ottoman governments want to avoid an embarrassing diplomatic situation. You don’t have the right to take advantage of that to forward your own interests.”
“How can you speak to me like this?” I asked. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“You are acting as an authorized representative of the British Crown and are to operate in a very specific and limited manner.”
“I had no idea the Crown was so little interested in—”
“In what, Emily? In the romantic concerns of persons not British?”
“It’s not romantic, it’s theological!” My mouth hung open, and I could not breathe. “I never thought you of all people would recriminate me for—”
“For stepping completely out of bounds? I consider you my equal, and I will always tell you when you’ve gone too far.”
“Gone too far?” I could not keep my voice from trembling.
“Come inside,” he said.
He bought our tickets and ushered me into the museum. We did not speak again until we’d reached the
