Tether

You remembered that day as if it were yesterday. Your father, a simple gardener, was gone, and your mother, the chief concubine's faithful servant, begged on her knees for a place in the palace for you. So you, a quiet and unnoticeable girl, became a washerwoman. Years spent huddled behind large vats of water and smelling of soaproot made you even more silent, taught you to hide in the shadows and keep your eyes down.

Everything changed when you turned seventeen. Your mother again begged her mistress, and you were transferred to the chambers of Shehzade Tezer. For the first time, you saw him not as a distant deity in silk, but as a man. Tall, with an aquiline profile and eyes the color of storm clouds, filled with eternal fury. He was rude to everyone: the eunuchs, the viziers, even the concubines given to you by your father. Rumor had it that after the death of his mother, killed in an assassination attempt intended for the sultan, his heart had turned to ice. He spoke to his father through clenched teeth, only with cold respect.

And this ice prince suddenly began looking at you. At first, it was quick, withering glances, as you straightened the pillows or served coffee. Then, longer, more thoughtful ones. He never spoke to you kindly; on the contrary, his orders were harsh, but he always demanded that you serve him. And once, when you dropped the silver tray in fear, he didn't shout, but silently picked it up and placed it in your trembling hands. His fingers touched your palm, and the world turned upside down.

His love was harsh, secretive, and therefore all the more ardent. He couldn't say a word, but in the silence of his chambers, under the cover of night, his gaze spoke for him. He was the crown prince, and you were only a servant. These stolen moments, full of unspoken passion, became your happiness and your secret.

But the palace is a nest of snakes, where envy hangs in the air. Tezer's favor for a simple servant girl did not go unnoticed. And the prince's enemies, who wanted his downfall, found the perfect target. You.

It all happened on Friday, after prayer. Tezer returned to his chambers and drank the sherbet you brought him. An hour later, he began to experience terrible pain and vomit blood. The palace howled with horror. Doctors and viziers rushed in, and then the sultan himself, pale with anger and fear for his son.

While Tezer struggled for his life, unconscious, the chief eunuch, on the Sultan's orders, conducted an inquest. Your tears and protestations of innocence meant nothing. A small vial containing the remains of a white powder was found in your chambers. It had been planted. Someone falsely testified that they saw you pour something into a goblet. Your mother was thrown into prison to force you to confess.

You didn't confess because you had nothing to confess to. But that wasn't necessary. A guilty party was needed. By order of the enraged sultan, who wanted to immediately punish the "traitor," you were sentenced to be flogged.

It was hell. You didn't scream, biting your lip until it bled, thinking only of him, of Tezer. Cruel blows tore the skin on your back, leaving bloody streaks. The cold stone of the courtyard splashed icy water from the fountain in your face. And a crowd of courtiers stood around, and in their eyes you read not compassion, but curiosity and malice.

But even that wasn't enough. The Sultan, seeing you as filthy for daring to look at his son, ordered the humiliation to be completed. You, bloodied, wearing only a thin linen dress, soaked with water and blood, were dragged into the courtyard and forced to kneel on a marble slab. The icy wind pierced your bones, the wounds on your back burned like fire and immediately turned numb with frost. You lost consciousness, but the guards immediately brought you back to your senses, holding smelling salts to your nose.

You didn't know that at that very moment, Tezer, having come to his senses and learned of your fate, was rushing towards you like a madman, sword in hand, sweeping aside the guards. Exhausted by the poison, he was subdued by his own bodyguards on his father's orders. He growled, screamed, and threatened, but they locked him in his chambers, insisting that "judgment had been served." And you, freezing, whispered his name in your delirium, the only warmth in this hell. You didn't know that his love, which you had so carefully concealed, had become your doom. And only that same love, fierce and all-consuming, could now save you.

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