thwarted God’s will and prevented conception.
The Valide Nurbanu stirred on her divan and pushed up the sleeves of her kaftan, making her gold filigree bracelets jangle. “Young Mehmet, Murat’s only son, remains weak from his bout with typhus two years ago. If he should someday succumb, and if anything—may Allah not be listening—happens to the Sultan, there is no one to rule the Empire.”
There was a long pause while Nurbanu re-crossed her legs on the divan. Her trousers under the red
pelisse
were made of a fabric so diaphanous that Hannah could see a mole on her ankle. “I have often puzzled about the mystery of conception. Why, for example, God breathes life into some unions and not into others. Some physicians believe that a man’s seed is like that of any seed and simply needs a willing vessel—the warmth and moisture of a woman’s womb in which to grow and flourish.”
If only it were so simple, thought Hannah.
The Valide Nurbanu drummed her fingers on the ivory tray by her side, prompting one of the dogs to twitch its ear in a disquieting way. Hannah waited for the Valide to ask the question that was making her knee jump.
“So this girl from the mountains on whom I have pinned my hopes. I trust she is a virgin? The slavers assured me that she was, but they are Arabs and therefore liars. I trust you, and only you, to tell me the truth. You understand how important this is, the condition of her hymen?”
Hannah said, “For Jews the issue of virginity is also crucial. The Book of Genesis says of Rebekkah, daughter of Bethuel, ‘And the damsel was very fair to look upon, a virgin.’”
“I know that Leah is fair to look upon, or will be when she is attended to. My question remains: is she or is she not a virgin?”
“She has suffered a terrible shock,” Hannah said. “Her entire village was burned to the ground, her family murdered before her eyes.”
“How fortunate for her that I purchased her.”
Hannah rearranged herself on her cushion; her legs were falling asleep but she dared not stretch them. “Leah needs time to accustom herself to the palace and its ways. She is overcome with grief.”
“Her spirits will improve when she is cared for.” The Valide grimaced slightly. “I suspect she was as filthy and brown as a goat when you examined her. Will she be worth all the creams and perfumes and attention we will lavish on her?”
“I think not, Your Highness.”
“Really?” The Valide picked up a fork and stabbed a pastry with too much force, sending it skittering to the floor. One of the dogs pounced on it and wolfed it down before Kübra had a chance to grab the beast by the collar. “Leah is to be a gift to my son. She will be presented to him—and soon. I repeat: Is she or is she not a virgin?”
“Leah will know nothing of the womanly art of pleasing a man in bed,” said Hannah.
“Nonsense, her inexperience will make her more appealing. Time is of the essence,” said the Valide. “Not toomuch delay or the Sultan will forget her, nor so little that he fails to experience lusty anticipation.”
The Valide spanked her hands together in a way that demanded a response. “Answer my question—now,” she added, as if the gesture were not enough.
Though, of course, Hannah had never laid eyes on the Sultan, she knew him to be a man old enough to be Leah’s grandfather, with a pendulous belly and hooked nose. There was no taking the words back once they had left Hannah’s lips. “She is a virgin, Your Highness.”
“Wonderful!” the Valide exclaimed. “I want to see the chubby fist of a princeling waving at me over the side of that cradle.” She indicated the corner of the room where a cradle rested against the wall. “Not a lot to ask, is it?” Nurbanu arched an eyebrow. “If you succeed in breaking Safiye’s spell, you will have my undying gratitude.”
“I shall do my best,” Hannah replied, trying not to think about the lie she had told and its possible
The Valide Nurbanu stirred on her divan and pushed up the sleeves of her kaftan, making her gold filigree bracelets jangle. “Young Mehmet, Murat’s only son, remains weak from his bout with typhus two years ago. If he should someday succumb, and if anything—may Allah not be listening—happens to the Sultan, there is no one to rule the Empire.”
There was a long pause while Nurbanu re-crossed her legs on the divan. Her trousers under the red
pelisse
were made of a fabric so diaphanous that Hannah could see a mole on her ankle. “I have often puzzled about the mystery of conception. Why, for example, God breathes life into some unions and not into others. Some physicians believe that a man’s seed is like that of any seed and simply needs a willing vessel—the warmth and moisture of a woman’s womb in which to grow and flourish.”
If only it were so simple, thought Hannah.
The Valide Nurbanu drummed her fingers on the ivory tray by her side, prompting one of the dogs to twitch its ear in a disquieting way. Hannah waited for the Valide to ask the question that was making her knee jump.
“So this girl from the mountains on whom I have pinned my hopes. I trust she is a virgin? The slavers assured me that she was, but they are Arabs and therefore liars. I trust you, and only you, to tell me the truth. You understand how important this is, the condition of her hymen?”
Hannah said, “For Jews the issue of virginity is also crucial. The Book of Genesis says of Rebekkah, daughter of Bethuel, ‘And the damsel was very fair to look upon, a virgin.’”
“I know that Leah is fair to look upon, or will be when she is attended to. My question remains: is she or is she not a virgin?”
“She has suffered a terrible shock,” Hannah said. “Her entire village was burned to the ground, her family murdered before her eyes.”
“How fortunate for her that I purchased her.”
Hannah rearranged herself on her cushion; her legs were falling asleep but she dared not stretch them. “Leah needs time to accustom herself to the palace and its ways. She is overcome with grief.”
“Her spirits will improve when she is cared for.” The Valide grimaced slightly. “I suspect she was as filthy and brown as a goat when you examined her. Will she be worth all the creams and perfumes and attention we will lavish on her?”
“I think not, Your Highness.”
“Really?” The Valide picked up a fork and stabbed a pastry with too much force, sending it skittering to the floor. One of the dogs pounced on it and wolfed it down before Kübra had a chance to grab the beast by the collar. “Leah is to be a gift to my son. She will be presented to him—and soon. I repeat: Is she or is she not a virgin?”
“Leah will know nothing of the womanly art of pleasing a man in bed,” said Hannah.
“Nonsense, her inexperience will make her more appealing. Time is of the essence,” said the Valide. “Not toomuch delay or the Sultan will forget her, nor so little that he fails to experience lusty anticipation.”
The Valide spanked her hands together in a way that demanded a response. “Answer my question—now,” she added, as if the gesture were not enough.
Though, of course, Hannah had never laid eyes on the Sultan, she knew him to be a man old enough to be Leah’s grandfather, with a pendulous belly and hooked nose. There was no taking the words back once they had left Hannah’s lips. “She is a virgin, Your Highness.”
“Wonderful!” the Valide exclaimed. “I want to see the chubby fist of a princeling waving at me over the side of that cradle.” She indicated the corner of the room where a cradle rested against the wall. “Not a lot to ask, is it?” Nurbanu arched an eyebrow. “If you succeed in breaking Safiye’s spell, you will have my undying gratitude.”
“I shall do my best,” Hannah replied, trying not to think about the lie she had told and its possible
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