Chapter 73
“Ugh, so dazzling.”
It must be something about their bloodline—Theron and Roxelana both had a way of making people squint just by looking at them.
“I greet Lady Roxelana.”
“No need for formalities. Please, sit comfortably.”
With a soft smile, she gestured for me to take a seat, and I carefully sat back down on the sofa.
Across from me, she sat with flawless grace, her posture impeccable. Then she gave a subtle glance to the servant at her side.
“Since Lady Roxelana wishes to speak privately, perhaps your escort could give us a moment?”
“I cannot do that,” Iblan replied immediately. “I was ordered to remain by her side under any circumstances.”
“Oh my, that almost sounds as if you’re implying I might harm her,” Roxelana said with feigned offense. “That’s rather hurtful, you know.”
Though her expression remained pleasant, there was a definite warning in her tone. Iblan flinched slightly, lips pressing together as he prepared to reply—but I lifted my hand to stop him.
“It’s fine, Iblan. It won’t take long. Please wait outside.”
“But, Lady Ishtar…”
“Go on.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he bowed respectfully and left with the attendant.
A soft thud sounded as the heavy door closed behind them.
Now, only two quiet maids, Roxelana, and I remained in the room.
“I heard you were a great help today,” Roxelana began. “On behalf of this facility, I’d like to thank you, Ishtar.”
“I only did what I could. I’m glad if it was of help.”
“Hehe, such humility from someone so young.”
As silence settled for a moment, the maids poured warm tea into our cups. Roxelana lifted hers, inhaled the aroma, and took a slow sip before setting it down again.
“I’ve heard all sorts of rumors lately,” she said lightly. “They say there’s a priestess in the capital who can perform miracles. I didn’t expect it to be you. Tell me, how did you come by such an extraordinary gift?”
“Well… let’s just say I was chosen by the heavens.”
I answered without hesitation, and Roxelana laughed softly, clearly amused.
“Indeed. To be chosen by both the gods and the sultan—that is no small thing. You’re quite remarkable, Ishtar.”
Her words were perfectly polite, even flattering.
But just being in her presence made me feel as though I were sitting on a bed of needles. There was an invisible tension beneath her grace.
“If you have nothing else to say, may I take my leave? There are patients waiting for me at the infirmary.”
“Oh, have I kept you too long?” She smiled faintly. “Then I’ll be satisfied with having seen your face today. I’ll make sure you’re properly rewarded for your help—please accept it.”
“There’s no need for any—”
“I insist. You helped me greatly, and I couldn’t refuse on account of my dignity. Please don’t turn it down.”
Strange.
Her tone was smooth and elegant, yet it felt as though there wasn’t the slightest room to refuse—like a thread pulled tight with no space for air.
Feeling a primal urge to escape, I forced an awkward smile, made a few polite remarks, and excused myself from the reception room.
A short while later—
Once only Roxelana and her two deaf maids remained, a young man in black priest’s robes appeared.
“She possesses an incredible amount of holy power,” he said. “I can’t even see the limits of it.”
“You saw her heal that child yourself?” Roxelana asked. “You’re certain she didn’t use some kind of trick?”
“Of course,” he said, showing his teeth in a bitter smile. “The curse was mine, after all. I’d know if it had simply been dispelled.”
The man’s name was Hans—a priest Roxelana had brought from her homeland, with a talent for casting curses.
In truth, the mysterious illness that afflicted the little girl Ishtar healed had been a curse Hans himself placed on Roxelana’s orders.
The child was merely a test subject, a sacrificial pawn.
If Ishtar’s healing hadn’t worked, the girl would have died.
Ironically, her suffering had become her one-in-a-million stroke of luck.
After a pause, Hans continued with a revelation even more shocking.
“It seems the weakening of Prince Suleiman’s curse is also her doing. That woman—Ishtar—has far more power than we imagined.”
“Didn’t you say before it was because of the prophetic cat?” Roxelana said with a sharp look. “You change your story quickly.”
“That was before I saw her in person,” Hans replied. “You were the one who forbade me from leaving this facility, Lady Roxelana.”
He frowned in annoyance, and she answered coldly.
“Aziz is still in the palace. He may be away for now, but even the High Priest isn’t someone to be underestimated. We can’t afford carelessness.”
“Well… I’m just a normal human, not a monster like Aziz,” Hans muttered. “Still, I’d appreciate a little freedom to move about.”
“If Hürrem discovers your existence, everything we’ve built will crumble. Enough talk—focus on strengthening Suleiman’s curse.”
Her words cracked like a whip.
Hans pouted but said nothing more.
So this was a test, born of curiosity… but it turned out better than expected, Roxelana thought.
Truthfully, she hadn’t expected much from Ishtar.
If the girl had failed to heal the cursed child, Roxelana had planned to expose her as a fraud—claiming that Hürrem was deceiving the people with fake miracles—and have her expelled from the palace.
As long as I can separate her from Suleiman, everything will become much simpler.
She didn’t yet know why Theron was so obsessed with Ishtar, but if he was, then the girl certainly had value to be exploited.
Roxelana planned to make Ishtar hers—another tool in her arsenal, even if it meant using her own son.
“To reinforce the curse…” Hans said carefully. “We may need to eliminate her. With Aziz gone, this might be our best chance.”
“Sometimes,” Roxelana said with a chilling smile, “it’s better to keep someone alive long enough to make use of them.”
“But how will you separate her from Prince Suleiman? He won’t let her go easily.”
“Well… first we’ll find out what terms keep her there. If persuasion fails, killing her will still be an option.”
A cruel glint replaced her elegant smile.
That evening.
After finishing my work at the infirmary, I returned to the palace, still feeling oddly unsettled.
Ever since I met Roxelana, I’ve had this strange feeling…
It was as though something dark and sticky clung to my back—a lingering unease, even after doing something good.
I opened the window for some fresh air, trying to shake it off, when Suleiman burst into the room.
“You’re back, Ishtar.”
“Oh, Suleiman. You’ve worked hard tod—”
Before I could even finish, he was already right in front of me.
Why is he always in such a rush these days?
He was slightly out of breath—clearly he’d sprinted here from his office again.
He’d been doing that a lot lately, running full-speed to come see me the moment he was free.
And judging by how calm everyone else had become, it seemed they were finally used to it.
“I heard everything from Iblan,” he said. “You met with Roxelana.”
“I went only to treat a sick person, but… things just turned out that way.”
He hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully.
“She’s not a good person,” he said quietly. “She’s also one of my mother’s oldest enemies. If she called for you, it wasn’t without purpose.”
“I see…”
“If she tries to summon you again, refuse her in my name. It’s best if you avoid her entirely.”
“That serious? Just what kind of person is she?”
“Roxelana is dangerous,” he said grimly. “Cunning as a snake, and she never lets go once she’s bitten down. I’d rather not tell you more—but you should know to be cautious.”
“I understand. I’ll be careful.”
I nodded, tense but sincere.
After that, we had dinner together and spent a quiet evening in the garden, admiring the flowers.
Ever since our last walk, he’d made a point to come back early at least every other night, no matter how busy he was, just to spend time with me.
We’d eat, drink tea, take a short stroll—it was a simple routine, but never dull.
Later, when night fell and I transformed into a cat, we’d play for a long while before sleeping—using the toy Arin had given me.
It was, in a way, exactly what a devoted caretaker was supposed to do. If anything, he was just finally doing his job properly.
“I wish we could stay like this forever, Ishtar,” he murmured.
“Meow.” (Forever—as a cat? No thanks.)
“When the day comes that you no longer transform… I think I’ll miss it, in a way.”
“Meow?! Mrrrow!” (What? Easy for you to say—you’re not the one turning into a cat!)
“Alright, alright, don’t be mad. I can’t help how I feel.”
Side by side on the bed, the grown man and the tiny kitten chattered in their own languages until they both drifted into sleep.
Nestled safely in her loyal caretaker’s arms, the little cat wore the happiest smile in the world.
