When the orange haze of the setting sun cast variegated-shadows through the gardens, Hyacinth escorted Haseki down the graveled paths. A myriad of lights swung from the boughs of the trees—colored lanterns lighting the beauty of the tulip beds and the cascading fountains and ponds. The Shore Pavilion shimmered in light and the drifting melody of lutes. Haseki grasped tight to Hyacinth’s forearm as she climbed the well-worn steps to the festive opulence that hovered above the waves of the Golden Horn and Bosphorus. She was momentarily blinded by the dazzle of torch-light, unable to discern no more than the silhouettes of those that reclined on the divans.
Khadija ran to her, kissed her upon the lips. “I am so glad that you will now truly be my sister by marriage, my love.” They embraced.
