Selim looked at her for a long moment. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead through the bars.
It was a gentle kiss. A promise. “I’ll choose what I should have chosen long ago,” he whispered against her skin. “I’ll choose you.”
Then he left, and Azra remained in the dark. But for the first time in days, she was not alone with fear. She had hope. The day of judgment broke under a gray dawn.
Heavy clouds hung over Istanbul. It was as if the sky itself knew something terrible was about to happen. Wind off the Bosphorus blew cold, carrying the smell of salt and rain.
In the great throne hall, the entire court had gathered. Viziers in silk turbans, generals in gleaming armor, eunuchs, servants. The women of the harem watched from behind gilded screens.
They had all come to see the spectacle—the fall of a servant who had dared rise too high. At the center of the hall, on the cold marble floor, Azra waited in white, the color of the condemned.
Her hands were bound in front of her. Her black hair fell loose over her shoulders. She had been stripped of everything but her dignity, and that she refused to surrender.
She kept her head up and her eyes forward. She would not beg. She would not cry. If she had to die, she would die the way her father had taught her—with honor.
Sultan Selim entered the hall, and the silence became absolute. He walked with measured steps, his black-and-gold robe trailing behind him like wings. His face was unreadable.
He took his seat on the raised throne and looked over the scene before him. His eyes met Azra’s for only a moment. But it was enough for her to see one clear message there: trust me.
To the right of the throne stood Sofia Sultan, the queen mother. She wore dark blue, the color of power. Her eyes shone with anticipation.
She had waited weeks for this. At last the little servant who threatened her control would be removed. “Let the hearing begin,” the grand vizier announced.
Witnesses were called one by one. First the servants, who swore they had seen a man enter Azra’s room. Then the eunuchs, who confirmed that guard Tarik had been found inside.
And finally Defne. With false tears, she described how she had discovered the scandal. “It was obvious they were involved,” Defne said, dabbing at her eyes.
“She always looked at him during meals, and the poor man fell right into her trap.” Azra clenched her fists. Lies.
All lies. But she was not allowed to speak. The accused had no voice in an Ottoman court.
When the testimony ended, the grand vizier turned to the sultan. “My sultan, the evidence is clear. Five witnesses confirm the crime.”
“Under the law, the punishment for adultery is death by stoning.” A murmur swept through the hall. Sofia Sultan allowed herself the faintest smile.
Azra closed her eyes, bracing for the inevitable. But then Sultan Selim rose. When he spoke, his voice rolled through the chamber like thunder.
“The evidence is not clear.” Silence fell at once. Complete and stunned. “My sultan,” the grand vizier began, but Selim cut him off.
“Where is the guard Tarik? I want to question him myself.” Confusion rippled through the room. At last the guards brought Tarik in, chained.
The young man was pale, shaking, barely able to stand. Selim stepped down from the throne and approached him. “Look at me,” he ordered.
Tarik raised frightened eyes. “Did you enter this woman’s room of your own free will that night?” “No, my sultan. No. I remember almost nothing.”
“I was eating with the other guards, and then everything went blurry. The next thing I remember, I was in that room and had no idea how I got there.” “You were drugged?”
“I… I think so, my sultan.” Selim turned to the court. “A drugged man.”
“Five witnesses appearing at exactly the right moment. Does that strike no one here as strange?” Sofia rose, some of the color draining from her face.
“My son, the law is clear. There is testimony.” “The law also requires justice, Mother.” Selim looked directly at her.
“Not conspiracy.” The murmuring in the hall grew louder. “And I have something more,” Selim continued.
He gave a signal, and two guards led in an older woman. It was one of the palace cooks. “This woman has something to say. Speak.”
The cook trembled from head to toe, but she spoke. “That night I saw a woman put something into guard Tarik’s cup. I thought it was a foolish prank, but now… now I know it was not.”
“Which woman?” Selim asked. The cook lifted a shaking hand and pointed. “The concubine Defne.”
Chaos broke out. Defne shouted that it was a lie and tried to run, but the guards seized her.
Sofia went pale as her plan unraveled before her eyes. Selim raised a hand, and silence returned. “I have heard enough,” he declared.
“This woman, Azra, is innocent. The testimony was manufactured. The crime was invented.”
He turned to Defne. “You. Conspiring against an innocent woman is treason.”
“You will be exiled to the farthest corner of the empire.” Defne sobbed as the guards led her away. Then Selim turned to his mother.
The pain in his eyes was plain, but so was the resolve. “And you, Mother. I know this was your doing.”
“I do not have enough proof to accuse you formally. But from this day on, your influence in this palace is over. You will be moved to the Old Palace.”
“You will live in comfort, but away from here. Away from me.” “Selim,” Sofia whispered, her voice breaking. “I am your mother.”
“And I am your sultan. My word is law.” Sofia looked at him for a long moment.
Then, gathering what dignity she could, she lowered her head. She was escorted from the hall. Only Azra remained.
Selim walked to her and untied her bonds with his own hands. “Stand,” he said softly. Azra rose on unsteady legs.
Tears ran down her face. But these were no longer tears of fear. They were tears of relief. The sultan took her hand and raised it so the whole court could see.
“This woman was falsely accused,” he declared. “Today, before all of you, I proclaim her innocent. And I proclaim something else as well”….
