Their mother emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, her eyes twinkling. "I saw the neighbor’s daughter, Leyla, at the market today. She’s a doctor now. Very polite. Very... single."

"Okay, okay!" Elvin held up his hands in defeat. "Turn off the music. If I go to tea with Leyla next weekend, will you stop playing that song at every meal?"

Tural paused the music and winked. "I’ll stop playing it... until the wedding night. Then, we play it one last time to celebrate the end of your freedom!"

Tural began to clap in time with the music. "Hear that? Even the singers are worried about you! You’re living like a king, but every king needs a queen to tell him where he misplaced his socks."

Elvin groaned. "I’m busy with the firm, Tural. My life is fine."

As Elvin reached for a piece of lamb, his older brother, Tural, cleared his throat. Tural had been married for three years and now walked with the confident air of a man who no longer had to explain why he was home late.