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through intermediates。 He found the opportunity to appear before me as I was

returning  from  the  public  baths。  His  eyes  were  as  brilliant  as  fire;  and  I

immediately  fell  in  love。  He  was  a  dark…haired;  fair…skinned;  green…eyed  man

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with strong arms; but at heart; he was innocent and quiet like a sleepy child。

Nevertheless;  it  seemed;  to  me  at  least;  that  he  also  had  the  tang  of  blood

about him; perhaps because he expended all his strength slaying men in battle

and amassing booty; even though at home he was as gentle and quiet as a lady。

This  man—whom  my  father  looked  upon  as  a  penniless  soldier;  and  hence;

disapproved  of—was  later  allowed  to  marry  me  because  I  threatened  to  kill

myself otherwise。 And after they gave him a military fief worth ten thousand

silver  coins;  a  reward  for  his  heroism  in  battle  after  battle  wherein  he

performed the greatest acts of bravery; truly; everyone envied us。

Four  years  ago  when  he  failed  to  return  with  the  rest  of  the  army  from

warring against the Safavids I wasn’t worried at first。 For the more experience

he  had  on  the  battlefield;  the  more  adept  and  clever  he  became  in  creating

opportunities  for  himself;  in  bringing  home  greater  spoils;  in  winning  larger

fiefs; and in enlisting more soldiers of his own。 There were witnesses who said

he fled to the mountains with his own men after he became separated from a

division of the army。 In the beginning; I suspected a scheme and hoped he’d

return; but after two years; I slowly grew accustomed to his absence; and when

I  realized  how  many  lonely  women  like  me  with  missing  soldier…husbands

there were in Istanbul; I resigned myself to my fate。

At  night;  in  our  beds;  we’d  hug  our  children  and  mope  and  cry。  To  quiet

their  tears;  I’d  tell  them  hopeful  lies;  for  example;  that  so…and…so  had  proof

their  father  would  return  before  spring。  Afterward;  when  my  lie  would

circulate; changing and spreading until it found its way back to me; I’d be the

first to believe the good news。

When  the  main  support  of  the  household  vanished;  we  fell  upon  hard

times。  We  were  living  in  a  rented  house  in  Charsh?kap?  with  my  husband’s

gentlemanly Abkhazian father; who’d never lived an easy life; and his brother;

who  had  green  eyes  as  well。  My  father…in…law;  who  left  his  mirror…making

business after his oldest son made his fortune soldiering; returned to take up

his  trade  at  a  late  age。  Hasan;  my  husband’s  bachelor  brother;  worked  in

customs; and as he prospered he made plans to assume the role of “man of

the house。” One winter; fearing they wouldn’t be able to pay rent; they hastily

took the slave who saw to the household chores to the slave market and sold

her; after which they wanted me to do the kitchen work; wash the clothes and

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