“I won’t hide my face.”

The eunuch slammed the lid shut. This girl’s impudence was beginning to boil his blood over. Now that she was chosen as the favorite, he, the chief eunuch, had the duties of her personal eunuch imposed upon him. He would have to teach her a lesson or two before she dared raise her head too high, before she forgot who the true master was.

Gold Dust stared him in the eye. “You and I can become powerful allies, Narcissus. You through your connections in the palace, I through the Shah’s heart.”

“You’ve a long way before you conquer his heart,” Narcissus barked.

She unlocked the box, gathered the earrings, and planted them in his palm. “From now on you protect me against Moon Face and I’ll share my gifts.”

The secure heaviness of emeralds felt good around her neck. She followed Narcissus past a courtyard strewn with straw meant to frighten away approaching evil spirits by the noise of crackling steps. Her heart brimming with joy-tinged fear, she entered the Secret Passage, a labyrinth of dark corridors and steep stone stairs that echoed the unspoken words of sultanas who had visited the Shah before her. She had never seen these tunnels that twisted under the palace. Did the underpasses lead to the outside or only to the king’s private quarters? Had any sultana ever tried to flee from here? Could she escape their murderous jealousies? They climbed circular steps toward light and away from the smell of mildew. To her right, round windows, sealed shut by iron frames, lined the stone wall. The threatening pulse of the river could be heard through the heavy walls. What lay behind this fortress? She rose on her toes and peeked through the windows. Below, a ribbon of water embraced the back of the palace. The shark-infested river was the sole guardian of this side of the palace.

Was this the place from which the late shah, in fear of an heir claiming the throne, had thrown his pregnant sultanas into the river?

Breathless, his feeble body threatening to buckle under the strain of the long walk, the eunuch urged her on. He recalled every other trip he had made, each with a different sultana on his arm. Was he growing old, or had the sugar and opium made his bones brittle? No, it was the consequences of losing his manhood that had caught up with him, he reminded himself bitterly. Rebekah had succeeded in giving him back only a portion of his manhood. He visited her once a week, when the sun was high and daylight stripped him of any mystery that might condemn him in the eyes of spirits and mortal men alike. He galloped into the Jewish Quarter, on his tallest horse and wearing his costliest attire. He offered Rebekah gifts in exchange for the feats she performed on his lust gland, which for a few exhilarating moments made him feel whole again.