“I do appreciate the compliment,” I said. “Anything new on Sir Richard this morning?”
“Nothing good, I’m afraid. He’s being recalled to England.”
“His behavior since we first met him has deteriorated more than I would have thought possible.”
“He’s under no insignificant amount of stress,” Colin said, then shook his head. “We’ve gone over this too many times.”
“I know. I keep hoping there’s some other answer. Do you think he will ever recover?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“And what about Benjamin?” I asked.
“Have you given any thought to the possibility that he was at Yıldız the night of the murder?”
“No. He didn’t kill his sister.”
“You believe his alibi?”
“I think there are many times a person would be hard-pressed to prove where he’d been at a given moment,” I said.
“What do you think happened to Ceyden?”
“Are you inviting me to speculate?”
“I am.” He smiled and set up the chess pieces again.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I don’t want to,” I said. “I’ve no idea where we’re headed at the moment. None of it fits yet.”
“When has that ever stopped you?”
“Never until now.”
“You, my dear, may just turn out to be a first-rate investigator.”
“You mean I’m not one already?” I asked. “I’m crushed.”
“Don’t be. I’ve got something for you.” He handed me a sheath of papers. “I’ve compiled all I have pertaining to the situation at Çırağan. It’s not enormously compelling, but if you put it all to the sultan properly, you might convince him to allow you back into Yıldız. I’ve got our vizier friend to admit that he was corresponding with Bezime, though he insists it was for nothing more than medical advice.”
“If that’s so, why did his messenger commit suicide?” I asked, reading through the papers while listening to him. “I shall confront Bezime at once. I’m not pleased she’s withheld this from me.”
“I still believe Murat is blameless, so do not let the sultan believe otherwise.”
“You don’t want to take this to him yourself? It’s your work.”
“I trust you to handle it.”
I leaned across the table and kissed him, then pulled away. “Thank you. I shall ask for an audience with him immediately,” I said. “I would never have thought it possible to adore someone as much as I do you. Are you real?”
“I certainly hope so,” he said. “If not, I’ll have a terrible time appreciating you in your diaphanous robes.”
Colin and I left the
“There’s a matter of no small importance that we must discuss,” I said, watching as a maid draped her in a gold satin dress woven with silver thread. A second servant came forward to fasten a heavy necklace of emeralds.
“This is not the time,” she said.
“It concerns the sultan.” I told her what Colin had learned at Çırağan, expecting her to show some measure of concern. Instead, she threw back her head and laughed.
“This is insignificant. Yes, this former vizier or whatever he was wanted my assistance, but I never offered him anything beyond a salve to treat an eye infection.”
“Do you have his letters?”
“I burned them.”
“Can you prove you never encouraged him?”
“I don’t need to. He’s accomplished nothing, and regardless, the sultan would never doubt me.”
“Do you think, perhaps, you’re overconfident?” I asked.
“Never. Come with me. You shall see.”
“You should be careful about this, Bezime. The sultan is paranoid, by all accounts, and if he suspects, even for a moment, that you’ve been in contact with someone connected to Murat who—”
“I’ve done nothing wrong and hence have no need for fear.”
“Did you tell him the former vizier is trying to hatch a plot?”
“He does not need to know everything when I know it.”
I was not as sure of this as she appeared to be, and I struggled to follow her through the halls of the palace—she was walking so fast, I could barely keep up—passing through the harem gates and into a broad courtyard in which stood Arz Odas?, the Audience Hall, where Abdül Hamit was to meet with a group of foreign diplomats. The building had been restored after a fire nearly forty years ago, but now its white walls gleamed. More than twenty columns supported the flat roof that stretched over a splendid porch on three sides. We climbed to the entrance, passed a fountain next to the door, and stepped inside.
The walls were simple, white and without ornamentation, but the ceiling was painted in gold and green. Most magnificent, however, was the enormous gold canopy over a throne that did not resemble a chair—it was more like an enormous couch, large enough and deep enough to be a bed. Hundreds of years earlier, those who entered this room hoped their words would please the sultan. If they didn’t, his guards might execute them on the spot. Although this was no longer a concern, nerves twinged through me.
The sultan was standing in a corner of the room, talking to an adviser, his back to us. Bezime hardly paused before gliding over to him and prostrating herself before him.
“Stand up,” he said, a half-smile on his face.
“My son,” she said, standing, stretching her arms to embrace him. “You know I will always consider you that.”
A terse nod sent the adviser scurrying away. “What are you scheming now?”
“When have you known me to scheme?”
“Is there a time when you’re not scheming?”
Her laughter echoed through the chamber. “You are too hard on me. I’ve brought you a friend whom you have been persuaded to treat with disdain.”
His eyes passed over me with no hint of interest. “Lady Emily is treated precisely as she deserves.”
“I understand your feelings, Your Majesty,” I said. “And I did not come here expecting to see you. I’d planned to set an appointment at Yıldız.”
“But instead you interrupt my time with Bezime.”
“It is urgent,” Bezime said. “And concerns Murat.”
He winced. “What is it?”
I paused, thinking Bezime would want to tell him, but she did not speak. “My husband is confident the former sultan is perfectly content with his situation. My husband has, however, confirmed that an associate of his is in the process of attempting to stir up trouble.”
“How so?” He crossed his arms and peered at me, his eyes all intensity.
“I can give you this—it details all he’s learned.” I passed the papers to him, thankful I’d brought them to show Bezime. “But Bezime can tell you better than anyone his approach.”
“Bezime?” His muscles tensed, and he spun on a heel, facing her and then taking a step closer. “You know
