She shook her head. 'He does not know that I am here.' Mehmed set his book aside, his eyebrows raised. Sitt Hatun was glad to have surprised him; she had the advantage. 'I have come on my own. I bring news of your father.'
'Indeed?' Mehmed replied. 'The news must be quite important. You know what the punishment is for leaving the harem without the consent of the sultan?'
'I know, My Lord.' The punishment was death, just as it was death for those who entered the harem uninvited. 'But you are the sultan, My Lord. It is for you to decide my fate. Once you have heard my message, you will understand that I have only done a wife's duty in coming to warn you.'
'Warn me?' Mehmed asked. 'My father would not dare to move against me. I am the heir to the throne.'
'No, My Lord,' Sitt Hatun agreed. 'He would never raise his hand against his son. But he might place his hands upon his son's favourite wife.'
Mehmed's eyes narrowed. 'Careful, woman,' he said, his voice hard and dangerous. 'I will have your tongue if you speak false of Gulbehar.'
Sitt Hatun felt the blood drain from her face, but she did not hesitate. 'I do not speak false, husband. I have seen your father in the bedchamber of Gulbehar with my own eyes. But I do not expect you to believe me, though I swear four times by Allah. I have brought proof.' She took the kumru kalp from her robes and placed it before Mehmed.
Mehmed's jaw tightened when he saw the ruby. He picked it up and his hand clenched white-knuckled around the stone. Mehmed stood suddenly, and Sitt Hatun feared that he might strike her. But instead he strode to his writing desk and placed the kumru kalp there. When he returned, his features were calm once more.
'You are sure that my father does not know you are here?' Mehmed asked. 'He does not know that you have brought me the kumru kalp?'
'Nobody knows,' Sitt Hatun told him. 'Only your stewardess of the harem.'
'Good, then we shall keep it that way. You will stay in seclusion so long as you are here, served only by your maidservant and the stewardess.' Sitt Hatun nodded. 'You have performed a great service,' Mehmed continued. 'You have my thanks, Sitt Hatun. How may I repay your loyalty?'
'I have only done my duty as a wife, My Lord,' Sitt Hatun replied. 'And I only ask for my due as your wife.'
Mehmed studied her for a long time while Sitt Hatun sat breathless. Finally, he nodded his head. 'Very well,' he said. 'Come.' Mehmed took her hand and led her into the bedroom. Moonlight filtered through the curtains of Mehmed's bed, highlighting the sleeping face of Sitt Hatun. She looked peaceful, a faint smile curling her lips. Gazing on her, Mehmed almost felt sorry for his long-neglected wife. Almost. For although he had enjoyed making love to Sitt Hatun, he already regretted lying with her. He had done so not just to reward her, but out of anger and spite, directed both at his father and at Gulbehar. He had allowed his passions to rule him, and he knew that there would be a price to pay. But there were other things on Mehmed's mind as he rose from bed and padded across the soft carpet to his study. He picked up the kumru kalp by its golden chain and then hung it around his neck. He would wear the gem as a reminder of Gulbehar's betrayal, a reminder never to trust his heart again.
There was little doubt in Mehmed's mind that Sitt Hatun's accusation was true. The kumru kalp never left Murad's neck. It was one of his greatest treasures, a jewel that was said to have been worn by the Roman Empress Anna Comnena herself. Murad had seized it when he conquered Edirne and wore it always as a reminder of his greatest victory. He would never have given it to Sitt Hatun, much less to a mere gedikli. Only one woman could have led him to part with it: Gulbehar. Mehmed knew all too well the wild passions that she could spark. Besides, Sitt Hatun's story only confirmed a hundred suspicions of Mehmed's own. So this, he thought, was why his father had been so eager to send him away, why he had objected so strongly to Mehmed's relationship with Gulbehar, why he had insisted that she stay in Edirne. Anger flared up inside Mehmed, and he gripped the gem so tightly that its sharp edges cut into his hand. The old fool; did he really think that he could steal Mehmed's own kadin? It was time that he taught his ageing father a lesson. It was time that he resumed his rightful place on the throne of the Ottoman Empire.
Mehmed moved from behind his desk to the cabinet on the wall. He opened it and removed the Koran. It fell open in his hands, and Mehmed read: 'Believers, vengeance is decreed for you in bloodshed: a free man for a free man, a slave for a slave, and a female for a female.' Surely a god that counselled a man for a man would also approve of a sultan for a sultana.
Mehmed placed the Koran aside and pressed the hidden latch that revealed the cabinet's secret compartment. He slipped on a pair of tight leather gloves and then removed the box that Isa had brought him. He opened the box and took out the vial of poison. The liquid inside was slightly viscous, pale amber in the moonlight. Mehmed still did not know who had sent the poison, but he would deal with that detail later. For now, it only mattered what the poison could do. He would have his vengeance.
Chapter 10
The ringing of church bells reached Sofia faintly as she strode through the palace to Constantine's private audience chambers. The sombre tolling marked the end of mourning for the Empress-Mother Helena. Sofia wished that Helena were with her now, to stand by her as she faced Constantine. She had been expecting his summons since she returned to Constantinople the day before, and she dreaded what he would tell her. Was she still to be married, or would she be free?
Sofia entered the audience chamber to find Constantine seated on his throne, a neutral expression on his face. In his right hand he grasped a crumpled copy of the pope's decree. Sofia curtsied before him, and he bid her rise.
'Welcome home, Princess Sofia,' Constantine said. 'I have asked you here to discuss your mission to Italy. Leontarsis has told me that you were very much involved in the negotiations with the pope. Is this true?'
Sofia nodded. 'Forgive me, My Lord, but Leontarsis is a clumsy politician. I thought that I might be more effective.'
'Leontarsis was my appointed ambassador,' Constantine said, his voice rising.
'Even so, I was nearly successful,' Sofia protested. 'And I believe that we can still turn the situation to our advantage, if you only…'
Constantine gestured for her to be silent. 'Your involvement has already led to this!' he roared, holding up the pope's decree. 'I promised my mother on her death-bed that I would enact union, but how can I now? Tell me: how can I!' Then, recovering himself, he continued in an even tone. 'You were sent to Italy to be seen, not heard, Sofia. I had hoped that Leontarsis would find you a husband who could offer us military support, but even that hope is gone.'
How could he reprimand her after all that she had done in Italy? Sofia bit back her anger. 'I did my best to serve you faithfully, My Lord.'
'You serve me best, Sofia, by playing the role of a princess, not a politician. You are lucky that Megadux Notaras is still willing to marry you. I have spoken to him about a date this summer. Until that time, you will do as I say. You are a lady, Sofia. You must behave like one. There will be no more swordplay and no more politicking. If you wish to study, then learn something pleasing: how to sing or play an instrument.'