The Kadin - Bertrice Small [103]
Firousi was distressed to learn that there had already been several offers of marriage for the twins. Selim’s second kadin vehemently protested that her daughters were far too young and, besides, were not yet capable of bearing children. The twins themselves were not overjoyed at the news of their possible marriages. Tears in their eyes, they begged their father not to separate them. When the time came, they would accept marriage, but only, they swore, to the same man.
Selim was not insensitive, and when he thought about it, the possible advantages of bestowing these exquisite girls upon one useful man far outweighed the disadvantages. He gracefully acquiesced, and the matter was dropped for the present
Meanwhile, Cyra was formulating her own small plot Suleiman’s friend Ibrahim had returned to Constantinople, and she knew her son missed his friend One evening as Selim relaxed with his water pipe in her quarters, she tackled the situation.
“Do you remember Ibrahim—Suleiman’s young friend from the country?” Selim nodded “He has returned to his father’s house. The old fool is trying to make a merchant out of him, and he is very unhappy.”
“It is a son’s duty to obey his father in all matters,” replied the prince.
“The boy is no more meant to be a bazaar vendor than Suleiman,” she said in an exasperated tone.”?e is bright and clever. If I might venture an opinion—”
“Do continue, my dear,” said Selim dryly.
“Ibrahim should be trained for government service. He could be a valuable asset to us one day,” she finished triumphantly.
“You are suggesting that Ibrahim continue his education in the Princes’ School?”
“Why not? He had all his lessons with Suleiman when we lived in the country. The tutors report he is highly intelligent, and Suleiman would be very happy to have his friend with him again.”
“It is not the custom for an outsider to study with the imperial princes. We are no longer at the Moonlight Serai. But,” continued Selim, “there is no reason that Ibrahim and Suleiman cannot continue their military training together. We might also arrange for Ibrahim to have some lessons at the palace school.”
She protested.
“No, his father has made a decision concerning Ibrahim’s future. I will not interfere in those plans.”
Cyra pouted, “But his family would be honored if we took an interest in him.”
“Come now,” teased the prince. “You are the most ravishing creature in the world. You have been taught to give pleasure, and here you sit like an adorable spider in the middle of your luxurious web, weaving schemes. Weave a spell upon me instead, my beloved. My mouth is parched for the cool sweetness of your lips.”
Her eyes caught his as he plucked the jeweled pins that held her hair. It fell like a shining curtain around them
“I never grow tired of you,” he murmured, brushing her lips with his. “You have never become dull or boring like so many others. You are full of life and constantly changing. I have always wondered what kind of country your Scotland must be to breed women like you. You are my slave, and yet you are the freest woman I know. No man could ever own you.”
Laughing softly, she nestled against him. “Perhaps it is our climate that makes Scots women as we are, or perhaps I am like my cats in having the ability to adapt to my situation, or”—and this more thoughtfully—“perhaps I remember that one day I shall be the sultan valideh. If I stopped learning now, I should make a poor one.”
“Do you look for that day?”
“I dread it,” she replied, looking him straight in the face. “For me to be sultan valideh, my son must be sultan, and when he is—” She stopped, stricken. “Oh, my Selim! I love you so! Never leave me! Rule a thousand years!