SHE GASPED AS SHE DROPPED the pan of water, splashing not only herself but the elegantly dressed man before her. Immediately, she had removed her cloak and began to dab at the fine brocade before looking into his face to apologize. "I am so sorry, Your Lordship," she mumbled, knowing that the Sultana she worked for would be cross should she find that she had ruined a guest's article of clothing. She always hated having to explain their terrible lack of judgement. "Please forgive my error." "Who are you?" He questioned, his pale eyes curious and warm as he took her hand in his own. He didn't seem to mind that his clothes had been ruined and for a moment, Althea felt her heart stutter in her chest. "Althea," she said before clearing her throat before speaking once more. "Althea Hatun; a captive from Greece that had been bought by Fatma Sultan but given to Üveys Pasha as a maid. And you, sir?" The man smiled before bending down to help her with the water pan. "I am naught but a simple poet. My name is inconsequential."