CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIVE
A week before the wedding was to take place, Hyacinth entered the Courtyard of the Favorites dressed in the formal couture of his position. He plodded importantly along the colonnade, then out into the open where Haseki lazed in the sun with Cihangir and Beyazit. He kneeled on the ground before them and held out his arms. In his hands was a simple, white shawl embroidered with white flowers and peacocks. Haseki accepted the wedding gift which she knew was from Suleyman, and studied its fine detail. She recognized Hafsa’s tight weave immediately. The corner of the material was embossed with an elaborate monogram—flourishing scrolls and swirls; three entwined initials. She smirked at the deceptive threads.
“A gift from your future husband, beautiful one,” Hyaci
