There is no time to protest or even scream. My hands and feet are bound and my mouth gagged. The janissary aga carries me over his shoulder and drops me to the ground at the Gate of Salutation.
I raise my head to see Pasha standing before me, dressed in full battle uniform, his kilij unsheathed in his hand. He pulls me to standing. “You have allowed yourself to be sullied. Thanks to the sharp eye of the Valide, you and your Giaour shall both meet the fate you deserve.”
I try to scream, but I choke on the cloth in my mouth. Pasha steps in front of me; I feel his breath on my face and see the daggers in his eyes. He lowers my gag and kisses me hard on the lips. When he steps back, I spit on the stones at his feet.
He laughs. “Spirited until the end. Midnight eyes and raven hair and luscious lips. I showed you favor and mercy despite the rumors of your devotion to the courtyard jinn. I was willing to overlook some of your peculiarities, but now you have shamed me. And now you will know my wrath.”
“If any has sullied me, it is you.” I spew my words like a curse. “May you never leave an heir. May history forget your name. May your suffering follow you from this world into the next.”
He slaps me across the face. Then he pulls the gag back over my mouth and motions to his janissaries, who step forward with a large burlap bag. I scream into the gag, swallowing my own blood, and flail against the aga, who lifts me up and places me into my burial sack.
“I’ll dispose of her myself,” Pasha says.
Hands lift me up and place me sideways over the saddle of Pasha’s horse. He mounts, and we ride toward the sea.