Haseki Mihrişah Sultan| Not To Be Continued

Fighter

When I decided to let my guards down and open my heart, I wasn't quite sure about the following events of that action. However, I still did it, knowing very well that at the time, my presence didn't mean anything to anyone. Just another servant, just another maid, having to obey the orders of the others to make a living. Someone whose opinion wasn't much valuable or sometimes didn't have any value at all. I was just another mouth to feed for those people, and another person they were sheltering under the same roof they were living. I wasn't meant to go up anyway. My future was the ground, just a mere slave of no recognition or importance at all in their lives.

Fate is strange, though. Fate will turn upside down every idea or plan you've formulated and will make you deal with the obstacles unprepared. Was this an obstacle, though? To lay with the Sultan of all that Empire that stretches in three continents. How hard could that be? He would do most of the work anyway. The matter is that it wouldn't happen only once. It would happen so often that you'd have to protect his life. You. A literal nothing!
Well...up until that day.

After that day, you gained recognition. You were climbing one stair. With difficulty and with a lot of hardship, but still you were. Until you understood that you were climbing more than one stair. You had a life, an opportunity, a chance, a great future growing in your belly. You would've maybe lost that life, together with your great future, but God didn't want so. He faced you with poison, with betrayal and with pain, but that life still came into this world, still made it out to survive. Thanks to your prayers, my prayers, and to God's mercy.

My child is the reason the food I eat is ten times better than that which I ate, and which many girls here still eat. He is the reason my mattress is more comfortable for me to sleep at night than that on which I used to sleep. Now, I don't even need to wash myself because there's others who do that for me.
Was the child the reason, though?

The child is the consequence of the action. The action was earning the Sultan's attention. The Sultan cared for me so much that it feels as if he's gotten tired of it. But how come? Who is he showing his care for? Upon whom are his eyes laying? Whom is his gaze targeting. Whose joke do his lips curve a smile for and let out a laugh? Does she resemble me? Is she better than me? What does she do to him that she deserves his words and his attention?

As if one night wasn't enough, he had to give her another night? He had to give her one more chance? Doesn't he know that by that good he's doing to her, he's causing harm to me? He's making me feel in pain, feel in stress, feel in discomfort, and feel an emotion, a sadness that I'd never felt before. Am I worthy of that? Is she worthy of his nights more than I?

I decided to fight. Not with her but with him. What could've I possibly have done wrong? He spoke, and I did. Gave him a child, for that matter. We gave each-other a child, a living product of our love. Or wasn't it love? Maybe they were just words that someone would say to spend his time when he's bored. Maybe they weren't touches that lit someone's skin on fire, but just lies disguised as emotions. He was a strong, grown man. He can not lie to me. He can not tell me one thing and repeat the same to another.

This girl, did she know what waters she was swimming in? Did she know what game she's become part of? That day, when I saw her from upstairs, she seemed like a girl who knew what she was doing. Now, there is this girl, sitting on a cushion on the grass, with the sun above her head that sends its rays everywhere in the sky and earth, spreading warmth on this mid spring day.