A-Game ✔

parade of power / episode thirty eight / sophia

Rifat Sultan strode through the harem with the air of a queen, cradling her newborn son, Ahmed, in her arms. The boy was swaddled in the finest silks, his tiny face barely visible beneath the delicate fabrics. But even hidden away, his presence was undeniable. He was a prince, a future shehzade, and with his birth, Rifat had cemented her place in the empire.

The women of the harem watched as Rifat paraded through the corridors, some with admiration, others with barely concealed envy. Whispers followed her, hushed murmurs about her meteoric rise, her newfound power. She was untouchable now—or so she thought.

Sophia observed from the shadows, her eyes narrowing as she watched Rifat's procession. The triumphant gleam in Rifat's eyes, the self-satisfied smirk tugging at her lips—it all made Sophia's blood boil. But she remained calm, her expression composed as she waited for her moment.

Beside her, Hatice stood quietly, her face unreadable. But Sophia knew that Hatice shared her thoughts, her resolve. The time had come to put their plan into action. They had waited long enough, gathering whispers, feeding rumors, laying the groundwork. Now, as Rifat basked in her newfound glory, they would strike.

Rifat's success had inflated her ego, made her reckless. She had believed herself invincible ever since Ahmed's birth. But Sophia had known better. In the harem, nothing was permanent. No position was secure forever. Especially when the whispers of witchcraft had already begun to take root.

Later that day, the women gathered in the grand hall for the traditional naming ceremony. Orhan, with a proud but tired expression, stood at the head of the room, watching as Rifat presented their son to the gathered nobles and women of the harem. The boy was officially named Ahmed, and the ceremony was a grand affair, full of pomp and celebration.

But Sophia didn't linger in the hall. She didn't need to see the spectacle unfold. She had a different mission.

In the quiet corners of the palace, Sophia and Hatice had been carefully cultivating the story that would bring Rifat down. It had started with small whispers—innocent comments about how Rifat had risen so quickly, how she had managed to secure the Sultan's favor in such a short time. And then, slowly, the rumors had grown. A strange talisman found in Rifat's chambers, her unusual beauty, the way Orhan had become so enchanted with her so suddenly—it all began to form a dark narrative.

"Witch," they whispered. "She used dark magic to control him."

Sophia had to suppress a smile as the rumors took root, spreading through the harem like wildfire. It was incredible how easily suspicion could bloom in such a fertile environment. The women of the harem were always looking for an explanation, something to cling to in their uncertain world. And witchcraft, with its air of mystery and fear, was the perfect explanation for Rifat's rise to power.

That evening, in the cover of dusk, Sophia met with Hatice in their secret corner of the garden, where the flowers seemed to bloom as if in defiance of the darkness. They sat close together, speaking in low, urgent tones, finalizing their plan.

"It's all in place," Hatice said quietly, her dark eyes gleaming with determination. "Several of the girls are ready to testify. They've seen... strange things."

Sophia nodded, her mind focused. "It has to be undeniable. There can't be any room for doubt."

"There won't be," Hatice assured her. "Rifat's arrogance has made her careless. She's left a trail, even if she didn't mean to."

It was true. Rifat had been so caught up in her newfound status, so confident in her control over Orhan, that she hadn't noticed the subtle manipulations happening around her. Little by little, Sophia had planted the seeds of suspicion, and now they were ready to bear fruit.

The following day, the atmosphere in the harem was tense. Whispers floated through the air, subtle but persistent. Girls huddled in small groups, exchanging worried glances and murmured secrets. Something was about to happen—they could feel it.

Rifat, oblivious to the undercurrents of suspicion, continued to parade her son through the harem, her smile as bright as ever. She reveled in her success, unaware that the ground beneath her feet was shifting.

That night, as the harem quieted, a select group of women gathered in one of the secluded chambers. Sophia and Hatice stood among them, along with several other girls who had agreed to help in their plot. They had all seen things—strange, unexplainable things. And now, they were ready to speak.

"The talisman," one girl said nervously, clutching a small trinket in her hand. "I found it in Rifat's room. It's not something an ordinary woman would have..."

Another girl spoke up, her voice trembling. "I saw her once, late at night. She was whispering to herself, like she was chanting. It didn't sound like any prayer I've ever heard."

Sophia listened carefully, her heart pounding in her chest. This was it. The pieces were falling into place. Soon, the story would be too big to ignore. Orhan would have no choice but to confront Rifat—and when he did, her downfall would be inevitable.

"It's time," Hatice said softly, meeting Sophia's gaze with a determined nod.

Sophia took a deep breath, steadying herself. She had waited for this moment, bided her time carefully. Now, she would reclaim what was hers.

Rifat Sultan had risen to power quickly, but Sophia would make sure her fall was just as swift.