Zevki Sultan | 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐘

Chapter Four

We spent weeks floating aboard a rickety ship, with nothing to do, terrible food, and the daily task of being forced to clean the decks. My royal title no longer accounted for anything anymore. Princess Francesca Fortuna, treated like a slave. It was almost laughable when I thought about it. Only weeks ago, I had servants dressing me every morning, preparing my meals, fixing my hair, and making sure that I never had to lift a finger unless I wanted to. Now I was scrubbing filthy wooden floors with saltwater and a rag while Ottoman soldiers watched over us. I had never been particularly fond of being a princess, but I was beginning to understand that there were worse things than having too many rules. 

At least in Spain, those rules came with silk gowns, warm beds, and food that didn't taste like it had been scraped off the bottom of a barrel. Here, nobody cared that my father was King Charles. Nobody cared that I was supposed to be marrying the Duke of Aragon. Nobody cared that I had a name that once commanded an entire room to fall silent. I was simply another girl aboard a ship headed toward the Ottoman Empire, and apparently that was all that mattered now.

One morning, I woke up after a night filled with nightmares. What if I never saw my family again? What if I was tortured to death? What if my family forgot about me? The last one was the saddest. My family forgetting me, and then I would never return home. I could almost picture it. Years passing, my name becoming nothing more than a distant memory, my parents eventually accepting that I was dead, and Isabella growing older without me. The thought made my chest hurt. Now, even though I wasn't exactly head over heels for him, I'd rather have the wedding with the Duke of Aragon. At least I knew what my life would have looked like. I would have stayed in Spain. 

I would have been surrounded by people I knew. I would have complained about my husband, complained about my dresses, complained about my parents, and probably complained about everything else too. Honestly, that suddenly sounded wonderful. Oh, and of course my sister Isabella probably jinxed it or something of the sort. She had spent the entire day of the engagement ceremony talking about how romantic everything was going to be. Then, mere hours later, Ottoman soldiers stormed our palace and kidnapped me. Coincidence? I think not. The ship had been rocking all night harder than usual, so it was rather obvious that I wouldn't sleep too well. From what I could see, neither did the other dozen captured girls. Everyone looked exhausted, frightened, and miserable. Some were sleeping against the walls, while others were quietly crying or whispering prayers in languages I couldn't understand. Obviously, out of all of them, I couldn't see anyone who was a...

I looked around the ship again.

And then I spotted her.

Duchess Lucia de Mendoza, a young noblewoman from our very court, was sitting in a corner of the ship, ragged just like me, whimpering and crying into her hands. I stared at her for a moment. Corny. That's all I thought. I didn't know how she could have even maintained such a high position in the Spanish Court if she was going to behave like this. Then again, perhaps I was being unfair. I was frightened too. I just happened to be better at hiding it. But I had to deal with what I had here, since now we were captured by the Ottomans. 

If I wanted any chance of surviving, I needed allies. Someone who understood the Spanish court. Someone who knew the customs and people back home. Someone who could possibly help me figure out how to get out of this mess. Lucia seemed like an obvious choice, even if she was currently acting like the world was ending. I got up and began making my way over to her. My soggy hair was in no condition to be seen, and my dress was still torn from the day I was captured, but at this point I was kind of getting desperate. I stood in front of her and waited for a reaction. She kept making weird sounds as she cried, barely even noticing that I was standing directly in front of her. Pathetic, but I understood.