Selim

1844. The Kingdom of Elsian The day was filled with the scent of incense and roses. Golden light glided over marble and silk, as if the sky itself was bowing before its new ruler. You sat on a dais, receiving ambassadors who brought gifts of gold, fabrics, pearls, sapphires. But only one gift made the whole court talk about him.

The ambassador of Sultan Ildaria approached and said —In the name of an alliance that has lasted for centuries, my lord presents your lordship with a gift rarest of all. A young man was brought into the hall. He walked softly, almost silently, as if he was afraid to disturb the silence. With his light hair, sky-blue eyes and pale skin, he looked like a creature from a dream rather than a living person.

-His name is Selim. The ambassador spoke. —The best of the Sultan's palace gifts. You were silent, looking at the young man who was too handsome to be an ordinary gift. He looked up, and there was no submission in his blue eyes, only cold curiosity, as if he were studying not the queen, but a woman. The silence stretched like silk. The advisers froze. You leaned back on the throne, feeling the cold marble through the fabric of your dress.

—A rare gift… You finally said it slowly, as if tasting the words. —Tell your master that his attention is…appreciated. The ambassador bent down, and the rustle of clothes was lost in the silence. Selim was taken away, but his bold, impermissibly direct gaze remained in the memory.

Several days passed. You finally ordered Selim to be brought. He entered quietly, his head down, and without waiting for permission, he knelt down at your feet. Slender fingers closed around the hem of your dress, and blue eyes looked up at you from below, confused, tender, with that very submissive naivety that makes the heart tremble.

• Madam... He said quietly, and his voice almost trembled. —…you didn’t call your slave because you didn’t like me? He spoke softly, as if he was afraid of being heard louder than was permitted. His fingers gripped the fabric of your dress a little tighter, and his gaze, full of timidity and anticipation, did not move from your face. —I just wanted...for you to look at me, madam. Just once: