"Every decision I make, I make for this empire. But she... she is the reason I fight."
Ripped from her noble Venetian life and thrown into the heart of the Ottoman Empire, Cecilia Venier-Baffo refuses to be just another captive. Armed with intellige...
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- Cecilia Venier-Baffo -
The harem was a battlefield, but up until now, I had played my part with restraint. I had chosen my battles, wielded wit instead of claws, and let fools like Safiye believe they were getting under my skin. I had shown grace. Too much grace.
And now, I was paying for it.
The morning sun bled through the latticework of the windows, painting golden patterns on the floor as the air inside the harem buzzed with hushed whispers. I felt their eyes on me, some pitying, most reveling in my predicament. The jewel—a delicate gold pendant encrusted with emeralds—lay before me, neatly nestled among my silks as though it belonged to me. A gift from Sultan Suleiman to Hürrem, now conveniently "discovered" in my quarters.
Safiye stood in the background, hands clasped demurely in front of her, an innocent spectator to the chaos she had orchestrated. She tilted her head slightly, her lips twitching with the barest hint of a smile.
A perfect move.
A crime as grave as stealing from Hürrem could lead to a whipping, a demotion, or worse—a transfer to the lower quarters, a place where concubines went to rot away in obscurity, forgotten.
Canfeda Hatun had personally led the search, her usually warm eyes unreadable now as she stared at me. "Cecilia Venier Baffo," she said formally, "you are accused of theft. This pendant was found among your belongings. What do you have to say for yourself?"
I inhaled deeply, willing my anger to coil tightly within me rather than lash out. I stepped forward, keeping my voice steady, controlled. "This is not mine."
"Yet it was found in your chambers," one of the elder concubines remarked, arms folded across her chest. "Strange, is it not?"
I turned my gaze toward her but didn't waste my energy on her petty delight. Instead, I focused on the woman I knew had engineered this—the one who stood there, watching me like a hunter watches a wounded deer, waiting for it to collapse.
Safiye.
Her doe eyes widened in mock sympathy. "What a misfortune," she murmured. "Perhaps you were keeping it safe? Or did you think it would suit you better?"
A soft round of laughter rippled through the women. My fists curled at my sides.
"I do not steal," I said coolly. "Unlike some, I do not need to resort to tricks and deceit to gain favor."
Safiye's lips curled slightly, but before she could retort, the sound of approaching footsteps made everyone fall silent.
And then, the room stilled as Canfeda stepped aside, allowing Hürrem Sultan to enter.
Every head bowed, except mine—I had learned my lesson from Mihrimah Sultan's arrival and did not kneel hastily, lest I expose weakness. Instead, I lowered my head with deliberate grace.
