CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN Haseki and Suleyman danced around the pavilion in uninhibited joy. They held each other tight—twirling and giggling in between skips and bouts of cuddles. Gulfam and Khanum sucked on the mouthpiece of a nagila. Mahidavran had long since left their company in a jealous rage that no one gave notice to. Hafsa also sat with her lips pursed around a mouthpiece, drawing back on the hashish, her attention at all times following her son and Haseki as they bound around the room. “Stop, stop,” Haseki cried at last. “I am giddier than a dervish.” Suleyman spun her to a stop before lifting her off the ground in an adoring embrace. “Too much for you, my darling? Oh well.” He placed her neatly on the divan beside Hafsa, and held out his hand to Gulfam, “My beautiful rose, do you
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