Zevki Sultan

~ Chapter 3 ~

I was left alone in the hall with these Ottoman barbarians as my sister dashed away. I couldn't do anything, and I was backing up into the wall as they inched closer. I glared at them.

"¿No sabéis quién soy, you foul men?" I yelled. "I am la princesa Francesca Fortuna, daughter of the king of Spain! How dare you attack our residence and threaten us?"

The men looked at each other for a few moments, and shrugged. I slapped my forehead. Clearly, nobody in that group could even understand Spanish.

They seemed a bit confused and I took that as an opportunity to escape, and I slowly started inching out, and then I ran for it. I almost escaped, I could see an exit ahead of me, so close and yet so far away. 

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed as two arms grabbed me and I struggled to get out of their grasp.

The grip tightened around my arms, and despite my frantic attempts to break free, I was pulled back into the hall. 

My heart pounded wildly in my chest as I continued to scream, hoping someone would come to my aid. But the palace was in chaos, and my cries went unanswered. Oh Jesus Christ have mercy on me!

"Let me go!" I shrieked, kicking and thrashing against my captors. One of the men, a burly figure with a scar running down his cheek, growled something in his language and motioned for the others. They surrounded me, their expressions unreadable, and I realized with a sinking feeling that my fate was sealed.

I continued praying to Jesus, but my prayers went unanswered as I continued to be treated like a slave as I was dragged.

I was dragged out of the palace, my feet barely touching the ground as they hauled me towards the waiting ship. The cool night air hit my face, and the salty scent of the sea filled my nostrils. The sight of the ship, its sails billowing in the wind, filled me with dread. I had heard stories of the Ottoman Empire, of their fearsome warriors and the harem of the Sultan. I knew what awaited me if I was taken aboard that ship, and the thought made my blood run cold.

"Please, don't do this!" I begged, trying a different tactic. "My father, King Charles, will pay any ransom you ask. Just let me go!"

The men ignored my pleas, and with a final, desperate struggle, I was cruely thrown onto the deck of the ship. The wooden planks were hard and unforgiving beneath me, and I lay there for a moment, stunned and breathless. 

The ship's crew, rough-looking sailors and more of the Ottoman soldiers, looked at me with a mix of curiosity and indifference. It seems like they regularly KIDNAP young girls and women for their unholy deeds.

One of the soldiers, a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard, stepped forward. He seemed to be in charge, and he regarded me with a cold, calculating gaze. He spoke to me in halting Spanish, his accent thick and his words clipped.

"Tú are now la propiedad de él Sultan," he said. "Tú will come with us to Istanbul. Any attempt to escape will be met with severe punishment."

I glared at him, my fear giving way to a burning anger. "No soy propiedad! I am not property, for I am Princess Francesca Fortuna, and I demand to be released!"

The man raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Princess or not, you are now a captive. I suggest you save your strength. The journey is long, and neither the Sultan, nor anyone else there, tolerates disobedience."

With that, he turned and barked orders to the crew. I was roughly pulled to my feet and led below deck to a small, dimly lit cabin. The door slammed shut behind me, and I was left alone in the darkness, my mind racing with thoughts of escape. My clothes were ripping, and the expensive fabric was put to shame and waste by today's events.

I began thinking about my family. Isabella, Madre, Padre the King... I was kidnapped, as a princess nonetheless, and now I am headed to my doom as the CONCUBINE of an Ottoman Sultan. My life is pretty much ruined. No wedding with the Duke of Aragon for me. Tears began flowing down my cheeks.

Please, someone, anyone help me...