CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
Hafsa stood in the shadows of her balcony, peering through the lattice to the terrace and gardens below. She sipped on a sherbet, admiring the summer light bounce off the marble paving. The foliage surrounding the terrace had grown lush throughout the springtime, and tulips caressed its edge. Hearing the echo of footsteps, she stepped closer to the balustrade to monitor who stirred beneath. She smiled when Suleyman walked from the side colonnade onto the terrace. He sat at the fountain edge, removed his slippers and dangled his feet in the water. Large fish rushed from beneath the lily pads to brush against his flesh. She listened intently and with delight as he sang a slight tune. His voice was low and melodic, the verse of his own making, the sentiment inspiring and
