We arrived at the grand bazaar of Constantinople, the heart of the Ottoman Empire, herded alongside other enslaved girls and men who had been torn from their homelands and sold into foreign hands.

They pulled us from the carriages and shoved us into the bustling market, where narrow alleys overflowed with people and the air buzzed with unsettling noises. The scents hit me all at once, spices, perfumes, sweat, and the stench of dirt. The cacophony of voices surrounded me, merchants shouting their wares, buyers haggling fiercely, and the anguished cries of slaves attempting to fight back against their cruel fates.

I fought with every ounce of strength to stay composed, but the horrific scene and brutal truth were overwhelming. I pushed my emotions aside, reminding myself I was here for something far greater, something that demanded both courage and ruthlessness. Above all, I had to keep my focus sharp, this moment was too crucial to lose control.

"Stand here, hurry up!" one of the men barked. We lined up against the wall, and he began parading us like mere goods for sale. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, knowing that this moment would determine not just my fate, but the fate of those I held dear.

"How much?" an elderly man asked, his wealth evident in the fine fabrics of his clothes. He stood before one of the girls, a blonde with piercing green eyes, eyeing her with blatant disregard.

"A small bag of gold," one of the guards answered coolly.

"That's too much!" The rich man scoffed, raising an eyebrow and twisting his face in annoyance.

"She's from Armenia, only fourteen, and still untouched," the guard said, his voice smooth, trying to persuade the man, and it worked.

"She looks good enough," the rich man replied, then signaled his servant to pay for her without a second thought.

Disgust churned in my stomach as I watched the scene unfold, but I forced myself to ignore their lewd words and hungry glances. My eyes stayed locked on the men moving before us, one misstep, and I’d end up in the clutches of some vile, old man.

A tall man with black hair and thick brows would be waiting for me at the slave market. He’d wear a large ring with a black stone, all black clothing, except for his brown shoes.

That’s what they had told me before I came here. He was the one who would recognize me by those details and the letter I held. He would buy me, along with a few other girls, to keep things discreet, then take us to the Sultan’s palace.

Minutes ticked by, and one by one, the girls were sold. I kept my head down, careful not to draw attention and ruin my plan. Finally, a man stepped in front of me, he seemed to match every detail.

He exchanged a brief, discreet glance with me, and I knew he recognized me. Slowly, I reached into my dress and quietly pulled out the letter. Just as I held it, a commotion broke out, a fight between two passersby that drew everyone’s gaze. Seizing the moment, the man quickly approached me and snatched the letter from my hand.

He disappeared for a brief moment, likely checking the letter’s contents and the stamp to ensure I was the girl he’d been told about. And sure enough, he returned, two men trailing behind him. He stood before us, his eyes scanning each of the girls with calculated scrutiny.

"Choose what you desire," the guard beside me instructed.

"This is exactly what I intend to do," the man responded coolly. After a moment’s thought, he pointed to a girl with dark skin, then to me, followed by a fair-skinned girl with long black hair, and lastly, a young girl who couldn’t have been more than nine or ten. "I’ll take them."

After a brief negotiation and the completion of the transaction, we followed the man and his guards, who kept a watchful eye from behind. We reached a carriage, and one by one, the four of us climbed inside. The door was slammed shut, and with a jolt, the carriage lurched forward, beginning its journey.

As darkness settled, we arrived at a massive, imposing door. The carriage halted, and we were ushered out, only to find a group of men waiting for us. They wore unfamiliar clothing, though they didn’t appear to be of any particular wealth. From what I gathered, they were likely the servants and aghas of the palace.

The tall man, the one I had given the letter to, stepped toward me and lowered his voice, speaking quietly so no one else could overhear us.

"My first mission is done here. You must stick to the plan," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. "I’ll be waiting for the letters I’ll send to Britain."

"Okay, I’ll try," I replied, tension thick in my voice.

"It’s not about trying, you will succeed, or there will be consequences," he said, his words sharp, as he gripped my hand tightly, a clear threat.

"Okay, okay, I’ll finish my mission as quickly as I can," I snapped, trying to pull my hand free. "Let go, my hand hurts."

Once he released my hand, I joined the other girls, who were standing beside the servants and guards. After a thorough search, we were ushered into the palace, presented as new concubines, a gift from a wealthy man to the royal family.

I found myself in a place called the Harem. The maid halted us in front of a door, where we watched girls of varying ages and nationalities preparing for bed, all dressed in identical white gowns.

"It's late. You’ll go to the hamam, then you can sleep there," one of the maids said, her voice sharp. She immediately started yelling at us to follow her. Though I didn’t understand her words fully, her gestures made her intentions clear.

We entered a vast room that seemed to be the bathhouse. The floor was flooded with water, and there were taps everywhere. We stripped off our soiled clothes and wrapped ourselves in towels to cover our chests and private areas. I began pouring water over my hair, but when I reached for the soap, the smell repulsed me. I called one of the maids over.

"Is there another soap? I prefer the scent of jasmine," I murmured slowly, hoping she might understand. As I expected, she did, but her response was far from kind.

"Do you think you're a princess, giving orders here?" she replied mockingly, in my language.

Her accent revealed she was British, probably brought here at a young age, considering she mastered both languages so effortlessly. I knew then that I had to get to know her better.

I was forced to wash myself with that scentless soap, and once we were done, a woman entered. They called her a physician. At first, I had no idea what was happening, but soon I realized, she was inspecting our virginity.

After enduring that dreadful ordeal, we returned to the Harem, where all the other girls were already asleep. The maid led me to my designated spot. I watched the others as each one settled into her place, curling up to sleep in silence.

I sat in the darkness for a while, lost in thought, until I saw someone enter through the door. As the figure came into focus, I saw a tall girl with long blonde hair, dressed in a stunning blue gown. She quickly passed us and ascended the stairs.

As I was contemplating this, I heard a voice beside me, a girl, speaking softly, almost as if she were addressing me.

"It's Eylem. She’s been spending time with Prince Mehmed," she said in a hushed tone, though there was a clear spark of excitement in her voice.

"Is he allowed to spend time with girls?" I asked, my voice tinged with surprise.

"Yes, but he’s not allowed to have children at the moment," she said, moving a little closer. Then, in a lower voice, she added, "Once he’s assigned to Manisa, he’ll be allowed to have children."

Although I already knew this, I played along, pretending to be ignorant. "And where did she go? Why didn’t she sleep here?" I asked, feigning curiosity.

"Favorites don’t sleep here; they have their own private rooms,"

"Is she the only favorite?" I asked, feeling like I was prying too much about the prince. To cover it up, I quickly added, "Are there other princes, or...?"

"Unfortunately, all the other princes are dead. Here, they call them şehzades, not princes," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It happened because of some terrible schemes."

She glanced around to make sure everyone was asleep, then leaned in, gesturing with her finger. "I’ll tell you more later," she added with a smile. "For now, the Sultan has only one son, Mehmed. That’s why they’re afraid to send him to Manisa. The Sultan has two wives, Hürrem rem Sultan, his first, and Safiye Sultan, his second. He no longer spends time with any concubines. As for şehzade Mehmed, he has a particular fondness for tall, blonde girls. He’s spent nights with other favorites, but the one he’s with most is Eylem. Everyone believes she’ll be the next Sultana, and let’s not forget, Hürrem Sultan, the şehzade’s mother, is backing her."

"So, he likes tall, blonde girls," I said, tilting my head. "Go back to sleep, I don’t want to keep you up."

"It’s fine, I’m going to sleep now," she replied with a smile. "But I’ll tell you more about what happened when we have some free time." With that, she returned to her spot. As soon as she stretched out, she fell asleep almost instantly.

It was clear this girl had a penchant for conversation and a willingness to share information. I hadn’t even learned her name yet, but I recognized the value in getting close to her. Through her, I could uncover so much.

I lay in bed, restless, tossing and turning for what seemed like hours. When sleep refused to take me, I rose and sat by the window, staring out into the night.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

By morning, after we had finished cleaning, all the girls gathered. Some chatted softly, others were reading or writing. I held a book in my hands, trying to distract myself, when the same girl from last night came over and sat next to me.

"How are you today?" she asked with a bright smile.

This girl never ceased to amaze me, she always seemed so happy and optimistic, no matter the circumstances.

"I'm fine, and you?" I asked, forcing a smile.

"Me too," she replied. "But you still haven’t told me your name, even though we’re friends now," she smiled, tugging the book from my hands with a playful grin.

"Friends?" I raised an eyebrow, but quickly recovered, letting a small smile slip onto my lips as I recalled the name I had chosen. "Ah, my name is Mary," I said smoothly.

"Your name is lovely," she said, her eyes still fixed on the first page of the book. "I’m also English, and my name is Alice."

I nodded, then lifted my gaze to observe the other girls. It was then that I saw Eylem approaching a group and sitting with them. She was truly stunning, her features strikingly beautiful. But wait, why was she looking at me with such a cold, almost sinister expression? Was I just imagining it?

"What's wrong?" Alice asked, setting the book down in her lap.

"That girl, Eylem, or whatever her name is, why is she looking at me like I’ve stolen something from her?" I said, my voice tinged with surprise.

"Didn't I tell you yesterday that şehzade Mehmed likes tall, blonde girls?"

"So? What does that have to do with anything?" I asked, looking at her with curiosity.

"You should start thinking," she said, her tone sharper. "You’re tall and blonde too, and Eylem sees you as a threat. Every time a tall, blonde girl arrives, she hates them because she knows they’ll be sent to spend time with the şehzade."

It felt like a slap to the face, but everything suddenly became clear.

Now it all made sense, why I had been chosen for this mission. There were several reasons behind it, each more apparent than the last.

I longed to escape, but I knew the consequences would be dire. As for this prince, what kind of man surrounds himself with so many blondes? He must be a failure. I was certain he was not only ugly but also foolish.