Adora by Bertrice Small Page A

happening and complained bitterly to his son-in-law, the sultan. Orkhan offered to sell Tzympe back to the Byzantines for ten thousand gold ducats, knowing full well that he could retake it any time he chose to retake it. Gallipoli, however, he would not return, claiming that he had not taken it by force. It had fallen to him by the will of God, in the earthquake. Theadora could not help laughing at the thought of her clever father finally outwitted, even though it meant his downfall.
    With her father and brother exiled, Theadora had no one to whom she could turn. She was fearful of what would happen to her and to her son. Then suddenly Prince Suleiman solved her problem.
    Halil’s injury had been brought to his attention, and he called on Theadora in order to apologize for the horse he had given to his younger sibling, and which had proved dangerous. Theadora accepted his apology, saying, “Ali Yahya tells me it is a blessing in disguise, for now Halil will be no threat to you.”
    The prince replied candidly, “That is true, princess. But since the boy is no longer a danger, let us concentrate on planning his future. He is a highly intelligent lad and could be of great use to me.”
    “I had thought to return to Constantinople with Halil some day,” she answered him. He need not know that that road was probably closed to her.
    “But you must not do that! If you are truly unhappy I would not keep you here, but you are an Ottoman now, Adora, and we are proud of you.”
    “There could be no place for me at your court, Suleiman.”
    “I will make a place for you,” he said huskily. She looked up just in time to catch him mask the flicker of desire in his eyes. She was startled and quickly lowered her eyes so he might not see how upset she was. It seemed, she thought with wry amusement, that she held a fascination for the men of the Ottoman family. “You are most kind, Prince Suleiman, to offer us a home. I will rest more easily now, knowing that Halil’s future is secure.”
    The prince bowed suavely and left her. Well, she chuckled to herself, Halil was safe, but was she? It disturbed her that Prince Suleiman should desire her. He had always treated her like a sister. And she had never encouraged his desire. She frowned. The voice of her servant, Iris, cut through the silence.
    “Look in your mirror, my lady. The answer to your unspoken question is there.”
    “You were eavesdropping!” Theadora accused.
    “If I did not eavesdrop I should learn nothing, and then how could I protect you? You are as deep as a well, my princess.”
    Adora laughed, “Give me a mirror, you incorrigible old snoop!”
    Iris handed it to her, and Theadora looked at her image with careful scrutiny for the first time in many years. She was somewhat startled to find an incredibly beautiful young woman staring back at her. She had, it seemed, a heart-shaped face, a long straight nose, well-spaced amethyst eyes fringed heavily in gold-tipped black lashes, and a wide generous mouth with a full, almost pouting, lower lip. Her creamy skin was flawless.
    She placed the mirror on the divan and walked over to its tall standing counterpart of clear Venetian glass, which was setin a heavily carved gold frame. Eyeing herself critically, she noted that she was taller than most women, yet willow slim, with high breasts. A good figure. She peered hard at herself.
Is it really me?
she asked silently. She was not vain by nature, and since the one thing she did not want to do was attract Orkhan’s attention, she had never really taken much care with her appearance.
    “I am beautiful,” she said softly, her hand absently patting her dark hair.
    “Yes, my princess, you are.
And
you are not even in your prime yet,” cackled Iris. “If Prince Suleiman desires you,” she continued in a low voice, “perhaps he will make you his wife when you are a widow. Then will your fortune and your future be made!”
    “I have no desire to be his wife,” snapped