Poetry

In Gregorian Calendar: 5th July, 1723

It has been two days. You just can't keep lying on an unfamiliar bed anymore, so you decided to get up and walk around, limping slightly. You're amazed at how much the wound has dried up in such short time. Their medication is very good indeed...

And you got lost in the halls.

"H-hey! Lady, I'm a bit lost, can you-"

A short man comes running to shield the woman as if you were going to attack her. "Ne yaptığını sanıyorsun? Sultana boyun eğ!" That's Salim Agha. He visited you for checking, yesterday.

You blink. You have no idea what he just said.

"Ya Allah...I said bow your head to the Sultana. What are you doing?"

Wait- how could you forget- it's that dark haired woman you saw on your first day!

You frown and bend your knees slightly. You really cannot curtsy properly with your injured leg and you'd rather not either way. You can just die here- or maybe start a fire and run away- but let's hold that to the future for now. She only waves a hand to dismiss Salim and smiles brightly at you. He hesitates, but when she points her finger again, he bows and leaves.

You start your pleading. "Lady, please send me back home. There is no use for me here- I am a child and-"

"Hush," her voice sounds like a hiss, but also gentle. "Come with me, you understand Arabic I see?"

"Yes, I am new here."

She continues. "So you're lost? How did you end up here? I believe Atike would never let anyone out of her sight."

"I...was injured and taken to the physician...they said I needed to stay for another day but I couldn't..." You reply, nervously. Why are you almost peeling off the skin of your finger!

"Ah- so you're that girl! I've heard about you- and all the troubles you lot have caused on your way here."

Your stomach clenches. But she doesn't look angry at all. "So you're name is Raziye?"

"Razia."

"Well whatever, you will be called Raziye here- and how old are you?"

"Thirteen." She raises an eyebrow. She caught you- and you pretend to count, then say- "Fifteen." It's the truth.

"I understand girls can lie about their age- but that doesn't matter here- I estimate you are at least seventeen-"

You shake your head with innocent eyes. She sighs "I cannot send you back but I do have a job for you. You'll be paid more than your other friends. If you work diligently, you might get the chance to free yourself. That's a rule here. What says you? Although I am a bit disappointed by your age, I believe you are capable enough. "

Wait- you had no idea you would get paid in the first place... Slaves don't get paid for work...do they?

"But I do not know the job yet."

"You'll be a harem guard. You will protect the girls and also be our bodyguard when it's needed." Now that's the perfect job! You don't need to be a raped concubine! But... with so many eunuch, why would they need a female guard? She raises a finger. "Before you ask why I give you this job- You're a fighter and I know almost everything about each and every of you."

The words scare you a bit, but you're happy for getting a job- on just the fourth day! "Thank you very much- Sultanim."

"Ah- I came to the courtyard without even noticing- see the door in the left? That's the room for all the girls. And take this-" she hands you a piece of metal with a star shaped insignia.

"Give it to Suleyman Agha. If you don't know him then find him. It's worthless- don't think of stealing it." She gives you one last smile- then turns on her heels. How come she is sweet- and scary at the same time?! But you...can't help but admire her. She's beautiful, and gives off a powerful aura whenever you come near her.

Now you have your first task. Interesting...

The courtyard is bright and sunny, and has the sweet smell of fresh flowers. It gives you a bit of nostalgia, imagining yourself playing running around the garden with Eitizaz, or more like chasing to annoy him but it still is a good memory. You toss back your braid and take a deep breath...

"In the white morning comes a wanderer,

A sweet maiden of havoc and ember,

She does not belong here

And yet, I see her but not hear..."

It's a gruff voice coming from the giant tree to your left...You see a middle aged man in a turban, very well dressed, with a blonde beard, reading out loud what appears to be a poem in a parchment.

And beside him, there is Admiral Ali, dozing with a wet cloth over his eyes.