A-Game ✔

a son / episode thirty seven / sophia

Sophia had known the moment would come. She had sensed it in the air, the heavy anticipation that clung to the walls of the harem like a storm on the horizon. And when the news finally broke, it spread through the palace faster than wildfire.

Rifat Sultan had given birth to a son.

The entire harem buzzed with excitement. A prince—a future heir to the empire—had been born, and Rifat had secured her place as a Sultana, a mother of a şehzade. The corridors echoed with congratulations and the sounds of celebration. Every maid, every servant, every woman in the harem knew that Rifat's status had now skyrocketed. She wasn't just another favored concubine anymore; she had become one of the most powerful women in the empire.

Sophia, on the other hand, sat quietly in the shadows of her chamber, watching the festivities from afar. Her heart clenched with every cheer that reached her ears, with every whispered acknowledgment of Rifat's triumph. This was the reality of the harem—the cruel, brutal truth that she had always known deep down. No matter what her feelings for Orhan had been, no matter what they had shared, power here was determined by children, by heirs. And Rifat had just secured her place.

Yet it was in this moment of despair that Sophia felt something stir within her. It wasn't defeat—no, she had felt defeated before, and this wasn't it. It was something sharper, more focused. A plan.

She turned to Hatice, who had remained by her side through everything. The woman who had once been Melania now stood beside her as a trusted ally, her newly adopted name a symbol of her new purpose. They had discussed this before, but now, as Rifat's power grew, Sophia knew the time had come to strike.

"She gave birth to a prince," Sophia murmured, her voice low. "That makes her untouchable now."

Hatice nodded, her eyes narrowing. "For now, yes. But not forever."

Sophia rose from her seat, pacing slowly by the window where the sun was beginning to set, casting long, golden shadows across the room. "Rifat is secure now, but she's made enemies. There are rumors... whispers that she's not what she seems." Sophia's voice was thoughtful, her mind already turning over possibilities.

The rumors about Rifat had been swirling for months, small and seemingly insignificant, but present nonetheless. Some said she used dark charms to secure Orhan's affection, others whispered that she was manipulating the Sultan through unnatural means. Sophia hadn't started the rumors, but she had heard them—and now, she knew how to fan the flames.

"If we push those rumors just a little further..." Sophia's voice trailed off as she looked at Hatice, who met her gaze with the same quiet determination.

"We can make them believe she's a witch," Hatice finished, her voice steady. "All it takes is the right nudge. People already fear what they don't understand."

Sophia nodded slowly. "We've been patient. We've watched her rise. Now, we'll watch her fall."

Hatice leaned in closer. "And we'll make sure she falls hard."

As they spoke, the weight of the plan settled between them, solidifying like stone. Sophia and Hatice knew it wouldn't be easy. Rifat had the protection of Orhan and the influence of having borne him a son. But they also knew the power of fear, of superstition. In a palace full of politics and whispers, the right rumor, spread at the right time, could bring even the most powerful woman down.

It was time to act.

The celebration continued late into the evening, the harem glowing with the joy of the birth of a prince. But in the dimmer, more secluded parts of the palace, Sophia and Hatice were already setting the pieces in motion.

Sophia knew that her time had come. She wasn't going to sit by and let Rifat take everything from her—not without a fight. The quiet determination in her chest had turned into a roaring fire, and she was ready to do whatever it took.

As she watched from her hidden corner of the harem, Sophia couldn't help but feel the weight of everything that had happened. The betrayal, the pain, the love that had been twisted into something unrecognizable. She had once believed that her bond with Orhan would be enough, that it would transcend the politics and power plays of the palace. But now, she understood the truth. The harem was a battlefield, and if she wanted to survive, she needed to fight.

Hatice stood beside her, a quiet but unshakable presence. The two of them had a mission now, a shared goal that bound them together.

Sophia exhaled softly as she gazed up at the darkening sky. She had to bide her time wisely. Rifat might have a son, she might have won this round, but Sophia wasn't done yet.

Not by a long shot.

As the night deepened, the harem continued to celebrate Rifat's new son. But while the others danced and cheered, Sophia and Hatice sat together in the shadows, plotting. They knew that Rifat's power had reached its peak, and that made her vulnerable. The whispers of witchcraft, of dark powers, were already spreading. All they had to do was help those whispers grow.

And then, when the time was right, they would strike.

"Rifat may think she's untouchable now," Sophia said quietly, "but even the highest fall."