The palace slept, but the air in the harem chamber never truly stilled. Rose oil lingered like a promise. Golden lamps burned low, casting shadows on the curved walls. Amira sat alone near the pool, her knees drawn to her chest, the cool marble pressing against her bare feet. The other women had already disappeared into the silk-draped alcoves, their silence heavy with things they would never speak.
She had not closed her eyes. She couldn’t. Her heart thudded with a rhythm she couldn’t quiet. She had learned to fear silence since stepping foot in the Sultan’s palace. Silence meant something was coming.
The curtain shifted.
Two veiled attendants entered, their wrists jingling with silver bracelets. They didn’t look at her as they approached. One carried a shallow bronze bowl filled with
