A ragged, sharp cry pierced the night, and in an instant silence fell over the gay crowd on the theater steps. The garden around us seemed darker, and the stars lost all their brightness. The screaming continued, but now it was accompanied by the sound of slippers on gravel, and I turned to see a beautiful young woman, dark hair streaming behind her in a tangled mess, running towards us.

“Come! Help! Please!” she cried, pausing only long enough to speak, then running again. Before she had covered more than a few yards, two of the sultan’s muscular guards stopped her. She struggled against them, and words that I could not hear were exchanged. Abdül Hamit stepped forward, and she flung herself onto the ground in front of him, all but grabbing his feet as the valide sultan watched. He muttered something, and the girl stood, shaking, not looking directly at him. His words appeared to soothe her, but before she could respond, a circle of guards surrounded him and the group disappeared into the night.

“Need to keep the sultan safe if there’s trouble,” came Sir Richard’s voice from behind me. “He grows more paranoid with each passing day. There’s no one in the empire he’s not having watched.”

“Should that make me feel safe or threatened?” I asked. Perestu had remained behind, taking the girl firmly by the arm and ordering the remaining guards to give her space as we all started down a path lit by a series of gilded torches. They obeyed at once. Colin dropped my arm and went towards them, catching up with a few long strides. I started to follow him, but Sir Richard stopped me.

“What do you think you’re doing? If there’s danger, we must get you back to your house at once.”