I looked at her thoughtfully, yet at the same time with sharp eyes—I couldn’t believe how she remained so calm after everything that had happened to her.

I know she’s young, but there’s something about her that draws me in... the way she speaks, the way she walks. Still, I hated the fact that she was one of the Sultan’s concubines... my repulsive husband. She was supposed to be mine alone.

My cruel husband had taken everything from her: her family, her name, even her dignity—just to make her one of his concubines. Damn him.

I was lying in bed, dressed in silk, when I heard loud, insistent knocks on my door. For a moment, I thought it was him. But when I opened the door, I was shocked to see her standing there—crying, her clothes torn, bruises circling her neck.

I don’t remember exactly what I did next, but I found myself pulling her slender waist closer, my eyes burning with hatred and rage.

“You have five seconds... who did this to you?”