“No, no.” She led me to a low sofa built along the outside wall of a charming room, stars painted on the ceiling. “Ceyden was not someone I thought fit for the sultan.”

“And what of his opinion?”

“Men’s opinions are oft en not worth considering.”

I could not help but laugh at this. “Does he know you feel this way?”

“I make sure of it,” she said. “For a very long time, the girl was not happy here. As a child, she was skittish and unpredictable. I understand this is to be explained by the violent manner in which she was taken from her parents, but we knew nothing of that until Sir Richard told her story after the murder. I am sorry for what she suffered, of course, but her inability to rise above it confirms I was correct about the flaws deep in her character.”

“She saw her mother murdered and was then kidnapped.”

“Yes. And was then taken extremely good care of and brought to the most spectacular palace to be found on earth. She was pampered, doted on, educated, given every luxury.”

“Did she have any memory of what she’d been through?”

“Not at all. We think she was around five when she came to us—a gift from a noble family. They’d bought her from traders, I suppose, and had her in their household for at least two years. It is not unheard of to present the sultan with such a girl—it is an honor. She didn’t speak English until Bezime taught her, and if I remember, she had a difficult time of it. It was strange—she seemed to have an affinity for languages, but English always troubled her. She all but refused to speak it.”

I pressed my lips together hard, thinking of the little girl pulled away from her dying mother. “Surely that was because she remembered something of her past?”

“She was a proud girl and knew she hadn’t mastered the language. It came as no surprise that she would avoid showcasing a weakness.”