Offer him money

Since you drew the golden extravagance card weeks ago and choose to use the power of it to expand your home and influence in the city by leaps and bounds (bypassing many laws forbidding such monopolies through your card) you've become quite wealthy despite your difficulties. You present the gift of twenty golden coins to the Sultan, profusely apologize that none could match the grandeur of even his lowest ****.
The Sultan ultimately accepts the gift, letting you break the card in two before him after teasing you for a minute. And even though you've long since hardened your heart against his words, your face still flushes. Tired of the display, he dismisses you and moves onto the next item on the agenda of the court.

You are in your chambers when your maid knocks and delivers Fadia in with little said. She doesn't meet your eyes and sheds the remaining clothes that cover her, revealing her moderate breasts, and **** tan-lines to you. Letting them fall to the floor as she kneels on the ground. Your gaze lingers on her curves, her scars, and wideness of her hips. Theres dejected compliance to this. In her immediate disrobing and prostration before you. You feel a thrill that traces down to your root. Is this how the Sultan feels all the time?
The errant thought breaks you from your reverie as quickly as it came. You are not the Sultan.