She was never alone — sultans had harems, naturally (sometimes friends and sometimes the women who had looked at her in passing while their husbands...struggled to pick out doorknobs). They would wear chains, or silken ropes which did not permit them to leave the area in which they lived. They might have sumptuous meals served in their locked apartments, be plied with wine and candies and gentle words for hours ... and eventually the sultan would swagger toward them, powerful and intent on having. I could feel her getting weaker, her body was melting into me, surrendering to me, she was getting heavier and heavier and she started slipping away. I tried to hold her tightly but she fell down on her bum. Quite dazed and with a glassy look in her eyes she just sat there on the floor, panting and breathing.When I approached her face with the cloth again she didn’t even speak or protest. She just let out a little whining groan.‘Sshhh.’ I said reassuringly. ‘It’s okay, Danielle. You’re just. More

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