“It is no riddle,” Rachel said. “She is here.”
Hürrem held out her hand for the miniature and regarded it as if it were indeed a miracle, which like any great work of art, however small, it was.
“She?” Hürrem repeated. “The artist is a woman? A woman painted this marvel? Why did you think I would be angry?”
“Because I brought her here.”
“Here to Istanbul? What is wrong with that?”
“No, the Ambassador did that. In fact, he abducted her in Venice and forced her to come to Istanbul against her will. But it was I who brought her into the haremlik. You asked for the truth, so I must tell you that I told no one and asked no one’s permission.”
“And was it your idea or our Venetian friend’s?” Hürrem asked shrewdly.
“It was not mine, hatun,” Rachel said, “but I take full responsibility for m
