Caterina spent her whole life being underlooked and misunderstood.
Hatice spent her whole teenage years chasing a man who loved another.
But Hüsniye became more than a pawn. She became a queen. She conquered the heart of the Ottoman Sultan, the hear...
Unfortunately, the first one to get pregnant was Şemsirushar, already halfway through her pregnancy. With each month that passed and each time I received my monthly courses, my hope wavered. Murad's warmth in private was undeniable, yet he always sent me away before dawn, his affection seemingly reserved for Safiye. The doubt gnawed at me—what if something was truly wrong with me?
When I finally confided these fears to Nurbanu the next morning, her answer was swift and reassuring. "Drink this fertility tea with every meal," she instructed, pressing the cup into my hands. "And don't entertain such nonsense about infertility. You had fourteen siblings, Hatice, you are perfectly capable. Trust me; Allah has a plan for you." Her words and the steady weight of her hands over mine lifted my spirits.
"Thank you, Your Highness. May Allah bless you." I kissed her hands and touched them to my forehead, grateful for the comfort. Conditional or not, her affection had granted me a life I never thought possible.
"And you, my child. You may leave," I bowed and did so.
As I left, I held my head a little higher, walking through the hallways with renewed resolve. Nurbanu's faith bolstered mine, reminding me of the strength I had yet to show.
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"Hatice."
Safiye's voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to reality. I turned, bowing respectfully to her. She stood with arms crossed, her expression sharp and her gaze unwavering. "I see Nurbanu's little shadow is off to pay her daily respects." A humourless smile tugged at her lips. "What's it like having her favour, always at your back, pushing you along?"
"Her Highness' kindness humbles me, as it should. She helps all who serve her." I held her gaze, keeping my tone steady. "But anything I become is my own to earn."
She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, her voice low and mocking. "Aren't you proud? But remember, favour is fickle. A single misstep and you'll find there's no safety in shadows." She leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper. "You may have Nurbanu's goodwill, but it's Murad's heart that matters."
I took a steadying breath. "I understand that well, Your Grace. True devotion can take time to recognize, but I believe His Highness will see it in the end."
Safiye laughed—a short, bitter sound. "Keep dreaming, little shadow. You're nothing without his child. What will you do if you never carry one?" Her voice softened, dripping with false pity. "Perhaps... you're barren."
I felt her words like a slap, each syllable pricking at my deepest fear. Yet I lifted my chin, refusing to let her see the doubt she had stirred. "Only Allah knows what's in store for us. I am not the one to question His will."
"Ah, piety," she sneered, her gaze narrowing as she stepped back. "We'll see how long it lasts, Cariye." With a disdainful toss of her head, she brushed past me, shoulder catching mine. I stood rooted, willing my heartbeat to slow.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
A couple of months later, I heard music drifting through the harem as I crossed paths with Defne. We shared a curious glance and leaned over the balcony, watching harem servants distribute gold coins and Turkish delights. Gülbahar joined me as I descended, Nilüfer tugging at my sleeve.
"What's going on?"
Gülbahar's smile was tight, her voice barely a whisper. "Safiye is pregnant."
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