The night of the harem celebration had finally arrived, but Sultan Orhan found himself unexpectedly nervous.

His hands rested on the arm of his gilded chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the fabric as he waited. This was his first real dance as Sultan, the first time the harem would perform for him in such a grand fashion, and he wasn't sure what to expect.

He didn't know which girls would be chosen, but part of him secretly hoped—hoped for someone specific.

Sophia.

Her name echoed in his mind as he thought back to the brief encounters they'd shared, the strange pull he felt toward her. She wasn't the kind of woman who typically turned heads at court, not exceptionally beautiful like the others, but there was something about her—a quiet, compelling grace. And despite her limp, she carried herself with such dignity. It was as if her inner strength was more radiant than any beauty the others possessed.

He sighed, adjusting his position as the music began.

The doors of his private chamber opened, and one by one, the girls stepped inside.

Orhan's eyes scanned the room as the girls moved forward, each dressed in lavish gowns meant to dazzle and entice. He noticed Mara Vellas-Andres first, dressed in gold, her movements bold and aggressive, meant to capture attention. She danced with an air of arrogance, her eyes fixed on him as if she were already convinced she'd be the one to win his favor.

But Orhan barely watched her.

Instead, his gaze drifted past Mara, searching the room for someone else—someone he had been thinking about far more than he cared to admit. And then, he saw her.

Sophia.

She was standing toward the back, almost hidden by the more assertive dancers, but to Orhan, she outshone them all. She wore a simple velvet dress in soft shades of pink and purple, modest in its design but radiant in its elegance. There was a softness to her presence, a quiet beauty that didn't scream for attention but gently demanded it. Her movements weren't flashy or forceful; they were calm, fluid, like water flowing across stones.

Like the waves of the sea, Orhan thought, mesmerized by the way she danced.

Even with her limp, Sophia moved with a grace that was entirely her own. While the other girls sought to impress with sharp, aggressive moves, Sophia's dance was slow and deliberate. It wasn't a performance to capture desire, but rather, a reflection of something deeper—peace, serenity, quiet strength.

She seemed to glide across the floor, her footfalls soft, her arms swaying gently in time with the music. Her gaze wasn't fixed on him like the others; she danced as though she were caught in her own world, unaware of the competition around her. It was as if she didn't care what anyone thought, and that made her even more captivating.

Orhan found his heart beating faster as he watched her.