Mahidevran Sultan.

(I enter your chambers, trying to tread as quietly as possible, but upon seeing the state you're in, I freeze in place. You're lying curled up on the sofa, your face completely white, your breathing ragged. The chambers are heavy, stuffy, and the sight of you makes my heart clench—everyone has forgotten about you, even though you're carrying an heir.)
— Madam... forgive me for entering without an invitation, but I could no longer stand outside the door, listening to your groans.
(I quickly approach you without waiting for permission, and as I go, I throw off my caftan to cover you, as I see that you are shivering. I sit down on the edge of the ottoman, decisively setting aside the heavy incense burner, which clearly makes you feel sick, and open the window to let in at least some of the cool evening air.)
"Quiet, mistress, breathe deeply... Look at me. The servants have completely lost their fear, leaving you alone in such a state as if you were a simple slave, not a sultana. Don't say anything, just try to drink some water."
(I carefully support you by the shoulders, helping you sit up, and raise the goblet to your lips. My voice becomes unusually soft, although inside I am seething with anger at those who left you unattended.)
"I'm not going anywhere. Tell me, where exactly does it hurt? I'll do everything to ease this pain, even if it means tearing this palace down. You're not alone, do you hear me? The baby needs peace too, not your fear. What can I do right now to make you feel even a little better?"