Conqueror | Murad III

chapter fourteen

I stood with Murad, the children, and the other women outside Defne's new room, waiting to meet the newborn who would forever change her mother's place in this world. Şah Sultan was with us, visibly curious to see the child of her former servant.

As we waited, memories of late nights laughing with Defne, and sharing secrets and dreams surfaced. Those moments felt distant now, softened by the shift in her fortunes. I wondered if her child would become close to mine. Yet, deep down, I feared that fate might grant Murad another son—another rival to Selim, one more threat to my family.

I kissed my son's tiny head, murmuring his name. My heart clenched at the thought of his future. He was not the eldest son, and in this world, that meant his life would forever hang by a thread. I wrapped an arm around Mihrimah, trying to push aside the dark thoughts.

"How are you feeling, Hatice?" Şemsirushar asked gently, her eyes warm and seemingly sincere.

For a moment, I studied her face, wondering if she could have been the one who poisoned me. Everything felt different now. Even I had changed—I was halfway through my second pregnancy, yet it felt like just yesterday I was a bewildered girl in the slave market, uncertain of her place.

"I am well, Şemsirushar. Thank you," I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.

"Thank Allah you're well," Safiye interjected, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Perhaps now you'll ease up on those lemon sherbets." Her words stung, and I eyed her, suspicious.

Rukiye peeked out from behind her mother, giving Mihrimah a shy smile. I returned Şemsirushar's gaze, noting a slight change in her tone whenever she spoke of her daughter. It seemed her feelings toward her daughter had softened after Murad distanced himself from her following her confrontation with Safiye.

But something nagged at me. Only those present in my bedroom the day I was poisoned knew about the sherbet. And Safiye... she wasn't there. My pulse quickened. Was it her? Could it be?

My thoughts were interrupted by a sharp cry from within the chamber. "Mashallah, Your Highness. Defne Hatun has given birth to a healthy sultana!" We quickly donned our veils, ready to greet the newest addition to this fractured family.

A wave of relief washed over me. Thank Allah, it was a daughter.

Şah stepped forward, the first to congratulate Defne, who looked weary yet radiant. Murad took the tiny baby in his arms, his expression softening as he began the naming ceremony.

"Your name will be... Fahriye. Your name is Fahriye. Your name is Fahriye." He kissed her forehead and handed her back to her mother. Then he surprised us all. "And you, Defne, will be known as Şah Hatun, in honor of my sister." A ripple of surprise passed through us. It was clear that Murad wished to thank his sister for introducing him to Defne, who had now brought them their daughter.

"Thank you, brother," Şah whispered, visibly touched.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After offering blessings to mother and child, I made my way to leave, feeling the weight of the day when Murad caught my arm.

"Hatice'm," he murmured, a warmth in his tone I hadn't heard in a long time. "Join me for dinner with the children. I would like us to spend this evening together."

I blinked, stunned. It was highly unusual for a Şehzade to share a meal with his harem, even with his consort and children. Such meals were usually reserved for royal gatherings or solitude. But Murad seemed sincere. Maybe he was following his parents' footsteps, since they usually have their suppers together.

"Of course, Şehzade," I replied, masking my surprise with a respectful nod.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The hasoda looked the same as I remembered, except for the large table now set for us. The lavish spread of dishes made my mouth water, but I hesitated, a gnawing fear tugging at me.

Selim and Mihrimah sat between us, exploring their surroundings with wonder. Selim attempted to walk toward the bed, only for Mihrimah to tug him back into place, her quiet authority making me smile.

"What's wrong, Hatice'm?" Murad asked, noticing my hesitation. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes, Şehzade," I said, my voice faltering. "It's just..."

"What is it?" he pressed, concern etching his brow.

I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I know it's irrational, but I'm afraid of being poisoned again. And... I worry it could harm our baby."

Murad's face softened, and without hesitation, he took a piece of each dish, tasting them deliberately. I gasped, horrified. "Murad! You could be poisoned!"

A playful smile curled at his lips as he swallowed each bite with dramatic slowness. "See? No poison, love. It's safe to eat. And delicious, I might add. Our children and you are perfectly safe."

Relief washed over me, and I chuckled, shaking my head. "Don't ever do that again. I was terrified!"

"But you called me Murad," he teased gently, his eyes soft with affection. And for the first time in a long while, I let myself believe he might truly care for me. I stretched so I could kiss him before eating.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After dinner, the four of us fell asleep together, a rare and precious comfort. At Murad's insistence, cribs were brought to his chambers so our children could sleep nearby. It was a night of peace and safety—a moment to hold onto.

The next morning, as I returned to my rooms, I noticed a commotion in the adjacent chambers. Gülbahar and Raziye were there, looking thoroughly rested after a quiet night without the twins' usual wake-ups.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Safiye has been furious since last night," Raziye replied, eyes wide.

"Why?" I asked, frowning. "Doesn't she dine with the Şehzade and their children regularly?"

Gülbahar shook her head. "From what we heard, she doesn't."

"But don't you know what yesterday was?" Gülbahar added, a knowing smile on her lips. I shook my head, puzzled. "It was Thursday," she explained. "The first Thursday in more than five years that he hasn't spent with her."

What could Hatice's loyal Agha be named? Any ideas? 🌷

What do you think this pregnancy is? A şehzade? A sultana? Multiple?