The Legacy of Grazia dei Rossi by Jacqueline Park Read Free Book Online Page A

perturbed.
    “Copies of them.”
    “But who would do such a thing?”
    “Who indeed?” Hürrem echoed. “My scribe came to me from the Grand Vizier’s school. He was handpicked. It cannot be him. But if not . . .” Her voice trailed off. Then, suddenly, she turned and focused her gaze directly on Saida. “Is there no one I can trust?”
    At that moment the solution to all of Hürrem’s problems became clear to the Valide.
    “Saida will help you,” she announced, pleased with herself, turning to the girl. “Did I not tell you that your studies would find good use someday, my darling child?” Then, back to Hürrem, “Some members of the court were against training a girl in anything except embroidery and sherbet-making. But I prevailed on my son, my lion, to allow Saida to join her brothers in their studies. To her credit, she is today the most literate princess in the world and has memorized most of the Koran, which brings her father great joy. Now she is able to do him another service, to save him from the breath of scandal. As you know, she often helps me to write my letters, and now she will help you.”
    So it was settled. Henceforth Saida would pay a daily visit to Hürrem’s quarters to read aloud the letters the Sultan wrote to her when he was on campaign and to transcribe Hürrem’s answers. She would also translate the poems the Sultan dedicated to his Second Kadin , written under the pseudonym Muhabbi or He Who Loves , which he composed in Persian — his choice of language for poetizing. A happy arrangement for all. A scandal avoided. The beloved Padishah protected; Hürrem rescued. The wise grandmother had saved the day.
    Yet several months later Saida was beginning to sense something too easy in the Valide’s solution. A practiced survivor by the age of twelve, the princess had cultivated a nose for intrigue. Experience in the harem had taught her that life did not unfold with the ease of her entree into Hürrem’s household service unless someone behind the scenes was pulling the strings. Yet months of daily attendance had revealed to Saida no hidden reason for her inclusion in Hürrem’s retinue, except the Second Kadin ’s immediate need for a trustworthy secretary. Nothing more.
    When the princess arrived at Hürrem’s suite, she was always greeted warmly and respectfully. Her accomplishments were highly praised. And she was thanked often and promised rewards for service in the future. Saida, the Second Kadin said, had saved her from a very serious threat to the happiness she shared with her adored Padishah, whom she treasured more than her own life. As the lady put it, “His letters keep me alive. Without the reminder that he will return to me, I would expire of grief.”
    Through her letters as well as her conversation, Saida had come to know Hürrem as a natural hyperbolizer — guilty of the odd lapse of taste, perhaps, but that was hardly proof of insincerity, the girl told herself. Besides, there were certain advantages to the princess’s new status as a confidante of the favorite: the opportunities to witness momentous events such as her father’s triumphal procession when he returned from his annual campaign. Outings through the streets that the cloistered women of the harem were never offered. And Hürrem’s constant assurance that the orphan girl now not only had a grandmother to look out for her, but had found a second mother — herself, the Second Kadin . At least , Saida thought, until Hürrem’s own daughter, Mihrimah, is old enough to do for her what I now do.
    But Saida had schooled herself to accept each day’s bounty without too much thought for what the future might bring. Even if it was not her nature, her faith told her that her fate lay in Allah’s hands. And much as she longed for the old days of wild horse rides and secret meetings on the island of Kinali, she was resigned to making the best of her new life.
    As for the boys, Danilo was not the only one in