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Rahat Loukoum

Fatima gazed out over the Bosphorus from her chamber high in the Tower of Silence.
Her pet armadillo Jackson nuzzled her hennaed ankle. She lifted him up to her face.
"Look at you little man" she said in the annoying version of English she had picked up from her satellite tv. "Aren't you the cutest thing ?". Fatima adored Made in Chelsea and The Geordie Shore.
Her armoured rodent extended his pink proboscis and licked Fatima's downy upper lip. She had given up trying to remove her lady moustache. The Sultan assured her that it was very attractive and would lavish attention on it each night just as Jackson was doing.
A sudden commotion from the street below caught Fatima's attention. She deposited her pet on a cushion and peered out of the window.
At the corner of Karamanlıoğlu and Mühürdaremin two of the Imperial Guards were beating a young man with their fists.
It was Idris the handsome sherbet seller. He plied his trade in the bazaar and adjoining streets, pouring delicious refreshment from the beautifully engraved silver flagon strapped to his back.
She leant out of the window and shouted at the Guards: "Sons of pie dogs the Sultan shall serve your heads at the next feast if you harm Idris."
The taller of the two men paused and craned his neck upwards to the latticed window. Recognising the Sultan's favorite Odalisque he nudged his companion. Giving the unfortunate sherbet seller a farewell kick they left him lying in the gutter and sauntered off towards the Topkapi Palace.
With her gauzy magenta silk yashmak fluttering in her wake Fatima clattered down the three hundred and one marble steps in her sturdy Birkenstock sandals.
She unlatched the heavy cedarwood street door and stepped out of the Tower of Silence. It was nearly midday and the fierce August sun baked down on the bustling thoroughfare. A few elderly onlookers were trying to help Idris. Someone had righted his great silver flagon, whose contents were seeping away into the dust.
Fatima knelt down beside Idris who was moaning softly on his side. “Why did the Janissaries attack you O Seller of Sherbet ?” she asked, wiping his bloodied face with her veil.
“Idris aroused the anger of the Guards by asking for payment for their Sherbet Madame. His father Salman was taken by an octopus two years ago whilst diving for pearls at Kaşık Adası. Since then Idris has had to feed his widowed mother and eight sisters from his meagre takings" explained one of the wrinkled gaffars.

A few months later Fatima rang the ornate silver bell beside her divan. The door to her chamber opened and her newest eunuch bowed deeply.
“What is your pleasure Madame ?” he enquired in the soft voice of his kind.
“A glass of your finest Sherbet please Idris”
“Then come and sit with me and Jackson. It is the final of Bake-Off today and we're really made up like”