Chapter 6: Meeting the Sultan

Over the next two weeks I settle into a routine which is demanding but not unpleasant. Alexandra ... or Hürrem, as I must now call her ... is still inclined to be moody and a loner. Hürrem and I still remain friends, but we don’t always share the same outlook in life.

I’m beginning to make sense of the hierarchy in the harem. Those in the South Wing of the harem have all been selected to be trained as hatun, which means “lady”. Hatun is both a title and a name. When I finish my training I will become Gülnihal Hatun. I will become eligible to be a concubine of the sultan. Even then it is far from certain that I’ll be called to walk the golden path. Sultan Suleiman is not as lustful as his predecessors, and he makes infrequent use of his many existing concubines. Ayşe has not been summoned to the sultan’s bedchamber since the night when Hürrem and I first arrived, and I’ve not heard about any other woman being called to his bedchamber. Perhaps one of Sultan Suleiman’s sultanas is keeping his bed warm at night. His lack of interest in his harem is certainly causing a degree of frustration among us. We are being trained in how to pleasure a man, but are constantly denied the opportunity to put it into practise.

Despite being confined to the harem, I’m reasonably content with my new life. Daye Hatun ensures we are kept busy, so we are rarely bored. By now I understand enough Turkish to converse with the other women and girls while we work. Although I frequently mispronounce words, I find that the others are both willing to help me improve my fluency and accept me as a friend. Sometimes a few of them can become too friendly, particularly at night. I’ve been woken more than once to discover another odalisque has slipped into my bed with me. Usually my night time visitor is simply wanting the extra warmth of a bed companion. The harem can get quite cold at night and we are only given lightweight clothing. A few, however, are looking for a more intimate liaison. The harem rules prohibit us from engaging in sexual activities with another odalisque, but the practise is commonplace and nobody prevents such liaisons providing they are kept discreet. I suppose it helps ease our sexual frustrations. I don’t encourage the advances of other women, but nor do I kick up a fuss when one of them slips her hand inside my slip, or touches me intimately when we are in the baths.

The young women who arrived with Hürrem and I, and were assigned to the larger room in the North Wing, have a harder life. They weren’t chosen to be trained as hatun, so their lot is to perform the manual chores such as the laundry and cleaning the interior of this huge harem. Even so, they may still advance in the hierarchy just like Nigar Kalfa has done. I now know that kalfa, like hatun, is used as a title as well as a name, and is awarded to the more skilful and experienced harem servants. If it wasn’t for the kalfas organising our day to day life, the harem would probably collapse into chaos. The Valide may rule the harem, but carrying out her wishes is nearly always left to Daye Hatun and the kalfas.

Of course the most coveted title for any slave in the harem is that of Sultana. A female child fathered by the sultan is given that title at birth. But for a slave to become a sultana, she must give birth to a son fathered by the sultan. Only two slaves have succeed in achieving this goal with Sultan Suleiman; Mahidevran and Gülfem. Both gave birth to sons while Suleiman was still the governor of the province of Manisa. Now both women have moved from the small harem at Manisa into the Imperial Wing of the Harem here in Constantinople.

As the name implies, the Imperial Wing is reserved for the imperial family and their personal maids. We’re not allowed to enter that part of the harem unless we are summoned ... something which rarely has a good outcome. The Imperial Wing is where the Valide and the sultan’s sister, Hatice, reside. It’s also the only part of the harem where a male child is allowed to wander at will. We see most of the imperial family from time to time, but more often than not, they keep to themselves.

“I’ve seen Mahidevran’s son, Mustafa,” I say as a group of us talk while we embroider. “But not Gülfem’s son.”

“Nor will you,” replies Esme. “A few years ago a great plague swept Manisa, and Gülfem’s infant son died. The same plague claimed the lives of Hatice’s husband and children. Now Gülfem stays in the palace as Hatice’s close friend and confidant.”

“I’m beginning to think we will never see Suleiman either,” says Hürrem.

“Careful,” warns Esme. “You must never refer to the Padisha by his name like that. In his presence you must only call him Sultan Suleiman Khan or Padisha. If Daye Hatun or one of the aga’s hear you being disrespectful, then you’ll be severely punished.”

“It’s difficult to be disrespectful to a ghost,” continues Hürrem, unmoved by Esme’s warning.

“Shush,” warns Esme again. “Don’t forget we could be observed at this very minute from the grill at the end of the room.”

I had forgotten about the hidden room on the other side of the small grill. It’s impossible to see through the grill from this distance, and it is mounted too high in the wall to look through when we are closer.

“Don’t fret,” says Efsun. “I heard one of the aga’s say that the Padisha is not in Constantinople, and that he’s busy putting down a rebellion in one of the outer provinces.”