Chapter 18: A New Life

The women’s quarters of the Bey’s household are nothing like the Topaki Palace harem that I knew in Constantinople. Here they are smaller, warmer, and much noisier. They’re a living tapestry woven from Andalusi grace, Berber earthiness, and Ottoman etiquette. The walls are whitewashed and the doors painted blue. The courtyard is filled with citrus trees and the sound of women grinding spices or singing lullabies.

Madeleine moves through this world like a ghost. I feel her intelligence in the way her mind flickers, quick and observant. However, her intelligence is still buried beneath layers of trauma. She speaks rarely, and invariably in French. Madeleine understands a few Arabic words, but she never speaks them. She flinches at raised voices, and she avoids eye contact with everyone.

The other women don’t treat her cruelly, but nor they treat her kindly either. She is a foreign slave, making her nothing but property. A quiet presence who does not yet belong.

Madeleine’s first days in the kasbah are a blur of confused activity. She is taught how to fold linens in the Tunisian way. She is shown how to carry water jars balanced against her hip. She is instructed in the household’s rhythms and her part in the routine: when to bake bread in the ovens, when the meals must be prepared, when the courtyard is to be swept, and when the women gather to wash laundry. Madeleine doesn’t actively antagonise the other women, but none of these duties come easily to her.

Most Arabic words slip past her like water through fingers. Berber phrases confuse her. Ottoman gestures feel familiar yet foreign. She tries her best to mimic what she sees, but her hands invariably tremble. She makes mistakes. No one shouts at her, but nor does anyone comfort her. She is simply corrected, and then left alone. Her trauma sits on her shoulders like a heavy shawl.

In evening of her sixth day in the kasbah, after a long day of silent work, Madeleine sits in the servants’ quarters, exhausted. Her hair is damp from hours spent washing linens, and her veil is slightly askew. Her eyes are red from holding back tears.

Aisha, one of the Bey’s slave-concubines, notices the Maristela Bracelet on Madeleine’s wrist and tries to take it from her. Madeleine looks up, startled. She promptly resists Aisha’s attempt to remove it. Apart from her clothing, it’s the only item Madeleine has been allowed to keep. Aisha gives up trying to take it, and simply shrugs as if it is of no matter.