Adora

“I will appoint you chief waiting-woman to Princess Theadora. In return, you will keep me fully informed about her life. She will go to the sultan soon. Now tell me, when was her last show of blood?”

The woman thought, then said, “Almost two weeks ago, master.”

“Exactly how many days from the first showing of blood, Iris?”

“Twelve, master.”

The eunuch frowned. “She must go today else we will be forced to wait another month,” said the chief white eunuch almost to himself. “Pack nothing for your mistress. All will be provided.”

“She is scholarly, master. She will want her books. She is not idle, like other women.”

The eunuch looked surprised. But he was not an unkind man. “Very well, Iris, I will see that the princess’s books are sent to the palace. But not today. We barely have time to do what must be done.” He reached into his voluminous robes and, drawing out two packets, thrust them at her. “Give your mistress the powders in the blue packet before you leave here. She is to have the other one at sunset.”

“Please, master,” said Iris boldly, “what are they? I would not harm her.”

“The powders are drugs to relax her and prepare her virgin body for her husband’s attentions this night. But you are presumptuous, Iris! Do not ask questions of me or I will withdraw your appointment.”

The door to the antechamber opened and Theadora entered. The eunuch quickly scrutinized her with a practiced eye. He was pleased. Her stature was regal. She was slimmer than his master liked, but the high, full, cone-shaped breasts more than made up for that. She had clear, fair skin and amethyst-colored eyes…or were they violet? The shining dark hair hung to her hips. She even had well-formed white teeth. These were all signs of excellent physical and mental health.

The eunuch bowed politely. “I am Ali Yahya, Your Royal Highness. You are the most blessed of women, my princess. Your lord husband-Sultan Orkhan, son of the sultan of the Ghazis; Ghazi, son of Ghazi; Marquis of the Hero of the World-has chosen this night to be your night of nights. Your marriage, celebrated when you were but a child, will be consummated this night. May Allah bless you, and may you be fruitful with my master’s seed.”

Theadora looked at him, blankly, for a moment. Then she turned deathly pale and crumpled to the floor. The eunuch looked down on her still form. She was very lovely. The sultan would be quite pleased. “Virgin vapors,” he pronounced to Iris who was kneeling by the girl, patting her wrists. “I will send a litter for you in one hour. Be ready.”

When Theadora came to herself she found her shoulders supported by Iris’ strong arm. A cup of wine was being forced between her lips. “Drink, my princess, and do not be afraid. Ali Yahya has appointed me your chief waiting woman. I will not leave you, and no matter what that fat slug may think, I will be loyal to you alone! Drink, my baby. It will help.”

Theadora gulped at the wine, her mind whirling. What had suddenly possessed the sultan? Could he have found out about Prince Murad? No! It was not possible. Why then?

“When are we to go to the palace?” she asked.

“The litter comes in less than an hour.”

Oh, sweet Jesu! There was no time to send for Murad and, once at the palace, she dare not communicate with him. Oh, God! This was to be her punishment. If she had not committed adultery in fact, she had certainly committed it in her heart and now God was punishing her. To be wife to an old man while loving his son! They would live within the same palace, possibly even see each other, and never be able to speak! Theadora began to weep violently.

Not understanding the true nature of her mistress’s grief, Iris tried to comfort her. “Do not weep, my baby. It was bound to come, and all women must accept their fate. I would, of course, wish that you had a younger husband, but they do say the sultan is still very potent-and a good lover.” Seeing that Theadora’s eyes were shut in her agony, Iris slipped the contents of the first packet into the wine. Then she watched as the girl drained it, unaware that it was drugged.

There was no time left. The nuns were in the courtyard, crowding about her to bid her Godspeed, farewell. “If you can help the Christian captives and slaves, Highness,” said Mother Marie Josepha, “please do. Their lot is so bad, and it is your duty. We stand ready here to aid you in all your charitable endeavors.”

Theadora nodded dumbly and allowed them to help her into the large litter. Iris climbed in after her, drawing the curtains shut, and they were away. The slavewoman looked at the pale girl opposite her. The princess said nothing, made no sound at all, yet the tears continued to pour down her cheeks. Iris was worried.

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