Captured For The Sultan’s Pleasure

Roksolana looked at the dough and flour one of the maids had given to her and wondered what she was supposed to do with it. When she saw another maid pour her potion of flour into the bowl containing the dough and mixed them together, Roksolana decided that must be what was required of her. She poured her portion into the dough too and began to mix, noticing how strong it was. She was still battling with the dough when a figure fell upon her and she looked up. Roksolana saw a woman looking at her with a frown on her face.

“What do you think you are doing?” The woman asked.

Roksolana felt embarrassed as the woman laughed at her when she had explained. She felt even worse when the woman had called the other maids to come and see what Roksolana had done.

Tired and angry, Roksolana dragged the bowl of dough from the woman. As she sat down back, Roksolana felt a powdered something been poured on her head. She looked up to see that it was the woman drenching her with flour. Roksolana stood up angrily, ready to teach the beautiful but ruthless woman a lesson.

As she gave the woman a single push, she saw the other maids rose all at once and ganged up on her. Was the woman some kind of gang leader? She thought as the women surrounded her. With no other way out, Roksolana took the beating they gave her silently cursing the name of the Sultan. They didn’t stop the assault until the kitchen head arrived and shouted at them.

“Next time, don’t even think about breathing in front of me.” The evil woman told Roksolana.

Twenty minutes later, the woman came back to where Roksolana sat and dumped a basket in front of her. Roksolana yelled at two dead chickens who stared at her from the basket, their neck at an awkward angle. She stood up and looked at the woman in a questioning manner.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Pluck away their feathers, clean them up, and fry them for the dinner meal. Until you are done, there will be no lunch for you.” The woman commanded and walked away.

Roksolana wondered why the woman was in control whenever the kitchen head was away. Even more, she was curious about why the woman could carry herself about like she was such an important person when she was a kitchen maid like everyone else in the room.

Picking up the basket with the chickens, Roksolana went in search of Seyiddah, the only person who could teach her how to complete her task. But she failed to find her and wondered where she had gone ever since the morning sun rose.

Resigning to her fate, she went to the fireplace wondering how she was supposed to make the chickens clean. Thinking she should have paid a bit of attention to the kitchen instead of just focusing on learning to fight. She sat down by the fire and took out one of the chickens, as she wanted to throw it into the fire, a chuckle stopped her. She looked up and saw a little girl of about twelve years old looking from her to the chicken then back to her.

The girl moved closer to Roksolana and explained to her how to prepare a chicken for consumption. Roksolana expressed her gratitude and set the pot on fire.

When the little girl affirmed that the water was hot enough to be used, Roksolana set to work. As she dipped one of the chickens into the water, the water rose to her fingers and she screamed.

She dropped the chicken into the water and it made a soft splash, hitting her arm and the little girl’s leg. Roksolana apologized to the girl as she looked at the chicken with a corner eye.

The little girl went to the pot, took the chicken out of the water, and began to pluck its feathers. Roksolana took the second chicken and followed the girl’s movement, then settled down beside her to pluck its feathers too. The feathers felt hot for Roksolana’s touch but she didn’t complain about it, already grateful for the help she was getting. She heard the girl humming a tune and turned to look at her.

“Why is such a young girl like you a maid? And that too in the kitchen?” Roksolana asked.

“Because I like it here. I love to cook and I can eat while I’m cooking.” The girl replied.

“But how did you get here?” Roksolana asked her.

The girl whose name was Khadijat began her life history. Roksolana found out she was from the Jedi sultanate which was a neighborhood to Wadai’ sultanate. Sultan Jamal had saved her from a moneylender who had been chasing her and her mother after they couldn’t pay up.

The man had wanted to sell Khadijat to a rich man as a concubine for higher money to pay off their debt. Her mother had put her and her younger brother and herself in a boat and rowed them away with the man chasing them. The moneylender killed her mother and brother in the struggle and might have killed her too if the Sultan hadn’t saved her at that moment.

He had paid the money lender what her family owed him and then he killed the man for killing her family. The Sultan had wanted a wealthy family to adopt her but Khadijat had refused, asking the Sultan to put her to work so that she could repay the debt her family owed him. She and the Sultan had agreed to let her serve as a maid for some time, hence, the reason she was here.

“My year of serving as a maid would be completed in two months, and then I’m a free person. The Sultan already said that I can do whatever I want after I’m free,” Khadijat told Roksolana, smiling.

Roksolana smiled back at the girl, wondering about what she was going to do with her free time later. She realized that they were done with plucking the feathers of the chickens and smiled again.

Khadija took over the rest of the chicken work while Roksolana only watched as she cut them open, cleaned them up, boiled them, and finally fried them. As the girl worked, Roksolana thought that Jamal might not be as bad as she thought.

This was the third time she heard his tale of saving lives and helping them live a better life again. When Khadijat was done with the frying, she handed the bowl containing the chickens to Roksolana, returning back to her duty. Roksolana patted her hair before she walked away.

As she walked happily to deliver her task as completed, Roksolana stepped on something and slipped. Her head hit the ground hard and she groaned. She watched as the chickens flew every which way and nearly cried, thinking about how much work Khadijat had put into it. She barely noticed the throbbing on her arm as she got up to pick up the chickens.

As she bent to pick the first piece, a leg stepped on her fingers and twisted about. Roksolana looked up to see the evil woman smiling at her in a pure wicked way. Allah helped her or she might commit murder, she thought as she freed her hand and got up.

She raised her hands to slap the woman but someone held her. Roksolana turned to see Seyiddah standing behind her and shaking her head. She dragged Roksolana away from the scene and sat her down at a corner, trying to clean her up.

“Where were you, Seyiddah?” Roksolana asked the woman.

“The kitchen head sent me and some others to the market earlier this morning. You looked tired, so I didn’t wake you,” Seyiddah explained.

“Who was that woman?” Roksolana asked, but she didn’t get an answer from Seyiddah.