The Kadin - Bertrice Small [147]
“I am pleased to cooperate with you, my lady,” Cervi said.
“Khurrem is to be treated like any other maiden, Cervi, Show her no favor unless she merits it, and punish her when she deserves it I will not have her spoiled.”
“Of course, madam.”
“And, Cervi, make no mention of this. Do you understand me? She is simply a clever seamstress.”
Cervi smiled. “Yes, madam. I understand you perfectly.”
Such was the entrance into the harem of the “Laughing One.”
On the first day that Cervi’s oda was scheduled for the baths, the validen secreted herself in a hidden room overlooking the gediklis’ bathing area in order to get a good look at her purchase. She was not disappointed.
Khurrem was a blond, and after her hair had been scrubbed and rinsed several times with lemon juice, it shone bright as a gold piece. It was a wonderful foil for her heart-shaped face with its little pointed chin and large, smoky-violet eyes.
Her figure was perfection. Standing barely an inch over five feet, she had firm, globe-shaped breasts, a tiny waist, and round, rosy buttocks. Her slender legs were well-shaped and surprisingly long for her stature. Complementing her lovely hair, eyes, and figure was her creamy skin color.
As the months slipped by, Khurrem improved in many ways. She learned to speak Turkish smoothly in her soft, rich voice. As clever as she was with a needle, she was more so with music She learned to play both the lute and the guitar and had an amusing way of tapping her heels while singing to her own accompaniment Her manners became flawless, and, taking the valideh’s advice, she seemed never to appear twice in the same costume. Actually this was not true, for as a mere gediklis the Russian girl had a small wardrobe, but she did have a knack of adding small touches that distinguished and gave variety to her clothes.
If she had one fault it was that she never forgot a slight When whipped for a misdemeanor, she would not weep like the other girls; instead, she would rise and stare at her tormentor for a moment with a look that clearly said, “I will not forget” Still, Cyra Hafise was pleased with Khurrem’s progress and sure she had found a girl to lure Suleiman from Gulbehar’s constant attentions.
With Belgrade and Rhodes safely within the Ottoman fold, Suleiman returned to his capital. He had changed, and Cyra was delighted. Two years of campaigning had turned her polite, intellectual, and somewhat hesitant son into a man of strength. He now understood the need for conquest in order to protect his borders, and was certainly capable of ruling an empire.
His people welcomed him joyously, his family warmly. Being family-oriented, he spent his first evening at home within his mother’s court This seeming act of respect was highly approved by the Turks, but the truth was that Suleiman wished to speak of all he had done and was planning to do, and Gulbehar was simply not a good audience for such talk.
The valideh felt genuine sympathy for her son’s kadin, who, having been educated only in the arts of physically pleasing a man, thought that this was enough. Cyra knew that the women most successful with their lords were the ones who appealed to them mentally as well as physically. She also knew that Gulbehar would never comprehend this.
As the evening drew to a close, Suleiman turned to Mihri-Chan and said, “You are to be married in the summer, my sister.”
“Did I not tell you,” snapped the little firebrand, “that I will choose my own husband as did my sisters?”
“Then you refuse your sultan’s choice?”
“I do!”
“Ferhad Pasha will be most disappointed,” murmured the sultan with mock sadness.
A look of joy lit Mihri-Chan’s golden-brown eyes. “Ferhad Pasha! You have chosen Ferhad Pasha as my husband?”
Smiling, Suleiman nodded.
“Oh, my sultan! I hear and obey!” cried the happy princess. Then she launched herself at her brother, grabbed a handful of his dark