-Behiç, my beauty. I promise that we will always be together- Sultan Osman told Behiç. But, after battling with a disease, Sultan Osman dies suddenly, leaving Behiç to figure out how to move forward with her children. MC/K. Updates weekly, this is m...
The weight of my crown never felt as heavy as it did today. Today wasn't about me, though every eye in the empire would soon be on me. It was about Abdul—my son—being crowned Sultan of the Ottoman Empire at only eleven years old. - Behic Sultan
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I tried to focus on the reflection staring back at me. I looked regal, powerful, even untouchable. But behind the veil of pearls and gold, I was still Valencia—just a girl from Italy who had been ripped from her home all those years ago. I thought of that girl, the one who had once danced freely through sun-drenched fields, unaware of the dark future that awaited her.
"Valide it's time!" Sanavber's voice broke through my thoughts as she burst into the room.
I turned to face her, my heart tightening. She was beaming, still young enough to feel excitement about something so monumental. I wished I could feel that same hope, but all I could think of was the burden that was about to be placed on Abdul's shoulders. Too young. Too soon.
I reached for her hand, her small fingers clutching mine. "Let's go," I whispered, more to myself than to her.
As we walked through the palace halls, the weight of the empire seemed to press down on me. Osman should be here, I thought sadly to myself.
The grand hall came into view, and I could hear the murmur of voices, the shuffle of feet as the court waited. Abdul was already there, standing small and nervous before the throne. He looked so much like his father that it hurt. His eyes met mine, wide with uncertainty, and I knew what I had to do.
I swallowed my fear and straightened my shoulders. I was no longer Valencia. I was Valide Behic Sultan, and my son needed me to be strong. He needed to see a ruler in me, someone who could guide him through the storm.
As I approached him, I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and leaned down to whisper, "You are ready, my son. Trust in yourself, as your father did."
His lips quivered into a small smile, and I stepped back as the ceremony began. My heart ached, but I knew one thing for certain—no matter how heavy the crown, I would carry it for him. For Abdul, for Osman, and for the empire.
I bit back my tears, my pain, and I gave it to the wind. Hopefully Allah will help us through these hard times.
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