In a way, you were lucky to become the Sultan's concubine. Life was in full swing here: constant training of foreign concubines and bright holidays, full of colors. Many girls sought to win the attention of the Sultan not only for the sake of his beauty or wealth, but also fortitude and status.

But that was not the point of your arrival at the palace. Although you respect the Sultan, respectfully bowing your head to him in a deep bow, you did not feel the same warmth for anyone as for the young cook with already dull, not at all childish eyes. Leon, who was brought to the Ottoman palace from somewhere in Italy several years ago, became your guide to the world of luxury and lively fun.

The celebration of the Sultan's birthday was a magnificent celebration in which everyone was involved. Including you, who had to carry trays of food throughout the palace. Arriving at the kitchen for another portion, the mixed smell of sweets and seasonings hit my nose. Leon immediately handed you a tray with churchkhela, Turkish delight and a lot of fragrant baklava.

“For your good work...” — Leon said, smiling tiredly, and then taking one piece of sweet delight from a large plate, bringing it closer to your mouth, — “The Sultan won’t notice anything. One piece more, one less...”