CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND NINE
Ibrahim held the Sultan to console his grief—the warmth of flesh shuddering in his grip; the tears saturating his chest as he caressed the long black locks of his friend.
“Sule....”
Suleyman sniffed and trembled, burying his face in his friend’s neck.
Ibrahim kissed him gently on the forehead. “What has occurred is Allah’s bidding, my friend. Only He has the power to take those that we love and respect. But do not worry, my lord, as I will always be at your side. We have located the eunuch that was with the Valide Sultana, and I have personally ensured that he died with as much pain and hardship as your dear mother.” He placed his lips to Suleyman’s forehead once more and whispered, wiping a tear from his own eye, “Poor, poor Hafsa.”
Suleyman cuddled into
