The next morning, Mila stood outside the gates of the Harem, her sketchbook clutched tightly to her chest. She took a deep breath as a stern-looking eunuch motioned for her to follow. The whispers of the women they passed filled the air, their astonishment evident.

"An outsider?" one woman murmured.

"Look at her! Such beauty," said another.

Mila's face grew warm, but she kept her eyes ahead, too nervous to pay much attention. Every step felt heavier as they moved deeper into the Harem, the walls adorned with intricate tiles and the faint scent of rosewater lingering in the air. Finally, they arrived at an ornate doorway. The eunuch opened it and stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter.

Mila's heart raced as she stepped into the room. The sunlight streamed through tall windows draped with silk curtains, casting a warm glow on the space. Sitting gracefully on a divan, surrounded by attendants, was Hürrem Sultan. Her presence was commanding yet elegant, her red hair gleaming under the light. Mila's breath caught in her throat as her eyes met the woman's.

Alexandra La Rossa.

The recognition hit her like a wave. Though years had passed, Mila couldn't mistake her. It was her childhood neighbor from their Ukrainian village—the same girl Leo had mourned and traveled countless miles to find. But Hürrem's gaze didn't falter, showing no hint of familiarity.

"You must be the artist sent to paint my portrait," Hürrem said, her voice melodic yet firm.

Mila nodded quickly, her mouth dry. "Yes, Sultana. I am Mila from Ruthenia."

"Ruthenia?" Hürrem's eyes lit up, her demeanor softening. "Then we are both from Ukraine. How wonderful! Perhaps we will have much to discuss as you work."

Mila forced a smile, her heart pounding. "Yes, Sultana. I would like that very much."

Hürrem gestured for Mila to come closer, and Mila obeyed, still trying to process the situation. Hürrem's attendants brought her tea and sweet pastries as they discussed the details of the portrait. Mila focused on her sketchbook, avoiding any hint of her shock. When Hürrem's attention turned to her attendants, Mila took the opportunity to glance at her old neighbor. She had changed so much—her posture regal, her words deliberate. It was clear that Alexandra La Rossa was gone, replaced by Hürrem Sultan.

After finalizing the arrangements, Hürrem smiled warmly at her. "You may begin in a week. That will give us time to prepare the setting. I look forward to seeing your work, Mila."

"Thank you, Sultana," Mila replied, bowing deeply before leaving the room.

She felt like she was floating as she was led back through the Harem and out into the bustling streets. Her thoughts raced as she made her way to the inn where Irina and Katalin waited. As soon as she entered the room, they jumped up to greet her.

"How did it go?" Irina asked, her curiosity evident.

Mila dropped her bag onto the bed and sighed. "You're not going to believe this." She recounted every detail, her voice low and urgent. Irina's eyes widened in shock, and Katalin listened intently, her expression unreadable.

"Wait," Irina interrupted. "So this Hürrem Sultan is Alexandra La Rossa? Leo's Alexandra?"

Mila nodded. "Yes, but she didn't recognize me. And I couldn't say anything. She's... not the same person anymore."

Irina frowned. "You should tell Leo—"

"No!" Mila cut her off. "If I tell him, he'll rush in and make things worse. He's been dreaming of finding her, but this... this isn't what he imagined. It would only disappoint him."

Katalin crossed her arms. "Then what's your plan?"

"For now, I'll paint her portrait and see what happens," Mila said firmly. "Maybe I'll find a way to tell her—or Leo—when the time is right."

Irina exchanged a look with Katalin but didn't press further. Mila sat down, her head spinning with the weight of her secret. As much as she wanted to tell Leo, she knew she couldn't. Not yet.