Adora by Bertrice Small Read Free Book Online Page B

to be wed when
he
is gone? I want to walk in the sunlight beneath the olive trees with you. I want the world to know that I am yours!”
    “I love my father,” he said slowly. “I would wish him no less a portion than is his. In his old age he is content and seeks only more gold and the sensual pleasures offered him. He will no longer lead our armies.”
    “Would you expand your kingdom?” she asked.
    “Yes! I would cross the Bosphorus, and rule from the city of Constantinople itself. Would you like to return home, my dove, as queen of the city of your birth?”
    “Yes!” She said it so fiercely that he laughed.
    “You do not mind that I would displace your sister and her husband? What a little savage you are, Theadora Cantacuzene.”
    “Before I became the sultan’s wife, my sister loved to torture me with the fact that she would rule over Constantinople some day, while I would be sent into exile in the sultan’s harem. How I would love to return to the city as the wife of its conqueror!”
    “Even a Muslim conqueror?”
    “Yes, my lord. Even a Muslim conqueror. We both worship the same God, do we not? l am no fool, Murad, though I be a woman. Within the bounds of this kingdom a traveler may go safely at any hour of the day or night. Non-Muslims are permitted the freedom to worship as they choose. The law is administered fairly to all who ask judgement of the kadi, be they rich or poor. I am ashamed to say that I cannot claim these virtues for the empire and its rulers. I far prefer to live under Ottoman rule, as do many non-Muslims.”
    “What a marvelous creature,” he said admiringly. “Though I find it strange to talk so openly with a woman, I find your logic without flaw.”
    “I am my father’s daughter,” she said proudly. “He has a great mind and is a fine scholar. He always said I should have been a son.”
    The prince smiled. “He is wrong, dove. There is no more exquisite female alive than you,” and he drew her back into his arms, sighing deeply and burying his face in the cool, scented mass of her hair. “Ah, dove, how I love you!”
    Above them, the stars traveled across the sky toward the morning. It was almost dawn when Theadora returned to her house and fell asleep. Too soon, Iris awoke her.
    “Highness, forgive me, but the white chief eunuch is here from the palace to see you.”
    Theadora was instantly awake. Never, since she had arrived in Bursa as a child and been installed in this house, had anyone important come from the palace to see her. “Tell him I shall be with him presently, Iris.”
    The woman bowed out of her mistress’s presence and delivered the message to the chief eunuch. She was about to return when his voice stopped her.
    “What is your name, woman?”
    “Iris, master.” Her head was bowed.
    “Do you deal well with your mistress?”
    “Yes, master.”
    “Does she confide in you?”
    “Confide what, master?” Iris pretended stupidity.
    “Anything. Little secrets? Girlish dreams and hopes?”
    Iris raised her eyes and looked directly at the eunuch. “Master,” she said quietly, “my little mistress has been cloistered here since her childhood. The only one she ever sees is the elderly priest who is her spiritual advisor. She leaves the convent but rarely. What possible secrets could she have? She confides in no one since she has no one. The palace slaves sent to serve the princess are rotated on a three-month basis, which hardly gives her time to make friends. Most serve her only once, but I have been asked to come back several times.”
    “Why?” He observed her from beneath his hooded eyelids.
    “Because I would advance myself, master. I was not always a slave.”
    “I will appoint you chief waiting-woman to Princess Theadora. In return, you will keep me fully informed about her life. She will go to the sultan soon. Now tell me, when was her last show of blood?”
    The woman thought, then said, “Almost two weeks ago, master.”
    “Exactly how