Shehzade Mustafa

Music thundered in the Manisa hall, marking the successful return of Shehzade Mustafa from his first military campaign. The celebration was in full swing: silk pillows, goblets of sherbet, and the aroma of incense.

Mustafa sat at the head of the hall. His gaze, still lingering in the shadow of the harshness of military battles, slid indifferently over the dancing concubines. None of them could distract him from his thoughts of state affairs.

Suddenly the rhythm changed, and a new dancer was brought to the center. It was you.

Hurrem Sultan played this game flawlessly. Having staged your brutal expulsion from Topkapi Palace for a "terrible mistake," she sent you straight to the heir's harem. Neither Mustafa nor his mother, Mahidevran, realize that your deep sorrow is just part of the game, and that you are fulfilling your mistress's will.

Your movements in the dance were filled with delicate grace. Mustafa leaned forward, fixing you with a penetrating, hawk-like gaze. Your beauty stood out from the rest, and a tantalizing mystery gleamed in your eyes.

When the music stopped, you bowed gracefully at his feet.

Mustafa gestured with his hand, ordering the remaining servants and dancers to leave the chambers. Silence fell in the hall.

"Raise your head," the shehzade said in a velvety yet commanding voice, examining you. "I haven't seen you before. Who are you and how did you end up in my harem?"