might have left the girl in her convent, but her father insisted that
all
the terms of the marriage contract be fulfilled. Our father couldn’t resist the final third of the little Byzantine’s dowry. That includes Tyzmpe, and I am going to be sent to command the fort. Want to come along?”
“Is the princess here yet?” Murad hoped he sounded casual.
“Yes. She’s a pretty piece, though a bit too pale to suit my taste. I caught a glimpse of her when she arrived this afternoon. Probably scared, poor little girl. Well, by morning she’ll be well-tamed. Our father may be old, but he can still leave a woman begging for more. May we be as potent as long, eh brother?”
“Yes, yes,” said Murad absently, his whole heart going out to Theadora, his dove, his precious little love.
Suleiman chattered on. “The lady Anastatia says that the little princess probably put her father up to improving her position. She says all the Cantacuzenes are ambitious.”
“I’ve had enough steam,” said Murad, rising. Walking out into the tepidarium, he grabbed a basin and vomited into it. “Damned fish must have been tainted,” he muttered, shoving the basin into a slave’s hands. After rinsing his mouth with mint water, he donned his clothes and found his way to his mother’s apartments.
To his immense surprise Anastatia was with Nilufer. “Is it true?” he demanded brusquely. “Is the old satyr taking the Byzantine girl to his bed tonight?”
“Yes,” said Nilufer. She was a handsome woman in her mid-forties. Her wheat-colored hair still shone with golden lights, and her amber eyes were bright and wise. “Anastatiaand I were just discussing this very unusual turn of events and how to meet them.”
“The girl is ambitious,” said Ibrahim’s mother.
“She is just like all the Cantacuzenes—greedy and venal. I should know. Is not the emperor my cousin? The girl obviously became bored in her convent and complained to her father. But after Orkhan’s had at her, she may wish she was back there.” Anastatia laughed cruelly.
Murad stared hard at this woman who had always been their enemy. She was ten years his mother’s senior, petite with steel grey hair, and the coldest blue eyes he’d ever seen. “What makes you two allies after all these years?”
“Your father’s new wife,” said Anastatia honestly.
“He married her years ago, and it didn’t bother you then. Nor did you and my mother become bosom friends over the matter.”
“But tonight he takes her to his bed. If she proves fertile and bears him a son—” She looked levelly at him.
“He would scarcely name an infant his heir over Suleiman or me, both grown men. Not at his age,” snapped Murad. “I hope, Mother, that you will have no part in a campaign of unkindness against this poor child. She will need friends here.” He angrily left the room.
Allah! She was here! Within this very palace, and he could do nothing. Whatever his mother and Anastatia said about Theadora’s ambition, he knew it was untrue. He knew her. They did not. How frightened she must be, poor child, and shortly she would be delivered up to that oversexed old man. He felt the nausea gripping his guts again. He had to get away from the palace. He could not remain here this night, knowing that her innocence was being violated on the altar of greed.
Suddenly, a heavily-veiled older woman glided out from the shadows. “The princess wants you to know that though this situation is not of her making, she will do her duty as she has been taught,” said the woman. And then she was gone.
He almost cried aloud at the swiftly retreating figure. Then Prince Murad made determinedly for the stables and called for his horse. He mounted, rode through the palace gates and headed the animal into the autumn mountains.
Chapter Four
Theadora had never been so clean in her entire life. She had thought they would scrub her skin away. Except for her eyebrows, lashes, and long tresses, she
all
the terms of the marriage contract be fulfilled. Our father couldn’t resist the final third of the little Byzantine’s dowry. That includes Tyzmpe, and I am going to be sent to command the fort. Want to come along?”
“Is the princess here yet?” Murad hoped he sounded casual.
“Yes. She’s a pretty piece, though a bit too pale to suit my taste. I caught a glimpse of her when she arrived this afternoon. Probably scared, poor little girl. Well, by morning she’ll be well-tamed. Our father may be old, but he can still leave a woman begging for more. May we be as potent as long, eh brother?”
“Yes, yes,” said Murad absently, his whole heart going out to Theadora, his dove, his precious little love.
Suleiman chattered on. “The lady Anastatia says that the little princess probably put her father up to improving her position. She says all the Cantacuzenes are ambitious.”
“I’ve had enough steam,” said Murad, rising. Walking out into the tepidarium, he grabbed a basin and vomited into it. “Damned fish must have been tainted,” he muttered, shoving the basin into a slave’s hands. After rinsing his mouth with mint water, he donned his clothes and found his way to his mother’s apartments.
To his immense surprise Anastatia was with Nilufer. “Is it true?” he demanded brusquely. “Is the old satyr taking the Byzantine girl to his bed tonight?”
“Yes,” said Nilufer. She was a handsome woman in her mid-forties. Her wheat-colored hair still shone with golden lights, and her amber eyes were bright and wise. “Anastatiaand I were just discussing this very unusual turn of events and how to meet them.”
“The girl is ambitious,” said Ibrahim’s mother.
“She is just like all the Cantacuzenes—greedy and venal. I should know. Is not the emperor my cousin? The girl obviously became bored in her convent and complained to her father. But after Orkhan’s had at her, she may wish she was back there.” Anastatia laughed cruelly.
Murad stared hard at this woman who had always been their enemy. She was ten years his mother’s senior, petite with steel grey hair, and the coldest blue eyes he’d ever seen. “What makes you two allies after all these years?”
“Your father’s new wife,” said Anastatia honestly.
“He married her years ago, and it didn’t bother you then. Nor did you and my mother become bosom friends over the matter.”
“But tonight he takes her to his bed. If she proves fertile and bears him a son—” She looked levelly at him.
“He would scarcely name an infant his heir over Suleiman or me, both grown men. Not at his age,” snapped Murad. “I hope, Mother, that you will have no part in a campaign of unkindness against this poor child. She will need friends here.” He angrily left the room.
Allah! She was here! Within this very palace, and he could do nothing. Whatever his mother and Anastatia said about Theadora’s ambition, he knew it was untrue. He knew her. They did not. How frightened she must be, poor child, and shortly she would be delivered up to that oversexed old man. He felt the nausea gripping his guts again. He had to get away from the palace. He could not remain here this night, knowing that her innocence was being violated on the altar of greed.
Suddenly, a heavily-veiled older woman glided out from the shadows. “The princess wants you to know that though this situation is not of her making, she will do her duty as she has been taught,” said the woman. And then she was gone.
He almost cried aloud at the swiftly retreating figure. Then Prince Murad made determinedly for the stables and called for his horse. He mounted, rode through the palace gates and headed the animal into the autumn mountains.
Chapter Four
Theadora had never been so clean in her entire life. She had thought they would scrub her skin away. Except for her eyebrows, lashes, and long tresses, she
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