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...
The gardens of the Topkapı Palace shimmered under the golden light of late afternoon. The air was alive with the fragrances of roses, jasmine, and tulips, blending seamlessly with the distant hum of music. Silk banners and colourful lanterns danced gently in the breeze, a testament to the grandeur of Sultan Selim II and Haseki Nurbanu Sultan's wedding celebration. It was a day meant for unity, yet the undercurrents of rivalry and ambition were never far from the surface in the palace.
I entered the gardens with my children, their tiny hands pulling me in different directions. Selim and Mihrimah raced ahead, their laughter ringing out as they explored the vibrant blooms. Hanzade toddled by my side, her chubby hand clutching at my skirts. Her wide eyes sparkled with wonder as she looked up at the intricate lanterns swaying above us. Nearby, Şah Hatun walked at a measured pace, her daughter Fahriye—of age with Hanzade—matching her steps with a quiet curiosity.
"Valide, look!" Selim's voice broke through my thoughts as he pointed toward a marble fountain surrounded by tulips in full bloom, grabbing my hand.
"Me first!" Mihrimah tugged at my other hand, leading me toward a table laden with sugar-dusted sweets. Her excitement made me chuckle despite myself.
"Careful, Mihrimah," I said gently, though my smile betrayed my amusement. "We must greet your grandparents first."
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Under the grand pavilion, Sultan Selim II and Haseki Nurbanu Sultan sat in regal splendour, their presence both commanding and welcoming. Selim II's laughter echoed as he exchanged words with Murad, who stood nearby with his children. Safiye, seated beside him and adorned in emeralds, looked the picture of elegance, though her eyes betrayed a simmering discontent. On the fringes, Şemsirushar's daughter, Rukiye, sat quietly, her small figure starkly contrasting with the bustling activity around her.
As we approached the pavilion, Nurbanu's sharp gaze softened. She extended her hands toward Selim and Mihrimah, her expression warm and inviting. "Ah, my little ones," she greeted them as Mihrimah offered an exaggerated curtsy, drawing a chuckle from the Sultan. Selim followed with a stiff but determined bow.
"Well done, my boy," The sultan praised, his grin widening. "You're growing into a fine şehzade." He ruffled his namesake's hair, and my son's face lit up with pride.
Hanzade clung to my skirts, hesitant. But Nurbanu coaxed her forward with a smile. "Come here, my little gem." She lifted her granddaughter into her lap, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. "Such a sweet child."
"She has her mother's grace," Murad said, his voice carrying a rare fondness.
"You flatter me, şehzadem," I replied, dipping into a respectful bow. "Your majesties, my sincerest congratulations on this blessed union." I bowed again with a smile, which Nurbanu shared with me. She was making history, following her mother-in-law's footsteps, being the second concubine to ever marry a sultan.
I didn't meet Hürrem and Süleyman, though I have heard multiple times their legendary love story, and I have been fortunate enough to witness the couple being celebrated. One can only hope and pray to find a love like that.
If not for me, I pray that my kids find such devotion with their future partners.
As the children basked in their grandparents' affection, Mihrimah's curiosity drew her to Rukiye. "Do you like tulips?" she asked, pointing to the blooms. Rukiye nodded shyly, a small smile breaking through her reserve. Within moments, the two girls were whispering and giggling together, their laughter a refreshing contrast to the tense undercurrents of the court.
Meanwhile, Hümaşah and Mahmud had joined Selim, marvelling at the wooden toy horse their father had gifted him earlier. The three children huddled together, their laughter blending seamlessly with the music and chatter of the celebration.
I glanced toward Murad, who was watching the scene with a faint smile. For a fleeting moment, he looked at peace. But Safiye leaned toward him, her sharp voice breaking the moment. "You spend too much time with them," she hissed, her tone low but audible to me. "They are not the future of this empire. My children are."
Murad's jaw tightened. His response was calm but firm. "The Prophet, peace be upon him, commanded fairness. I will not neglect any of my children."
I stepped forward, my voice measured but loud enough to interrupt. "Kadın," I said, maintaining a serene smile, "insulting the dynasty is beneath anyone, even you." I let my gaze linger on her, cool and unwavering. "And insulting children? That is beneath even the lowest."
Safiye's glare was venomous, but I didn't linger long enough to give her satisfaction. Mihrimah and Rukiye called for me, their laughter a welcome reprieve as I joined them.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
That evening, in our provisional chambers, the children played without a care in the world. Mihrimah taught Rukiye a clapping game, while Hanzade clapped along, her laughter filling the room. "Valide," Mihrimah said, pausing mid-game, "can Rukiye stay with us?"
"If her Daye agrees, then yes, my flower," I replied.
As Rukiye darted off to ask her wet nurse, Hanzade climbed onto my lap, her big eyes brimming with curiosity. "Where is her mother?" she asked innocently, drawing the attention of Selim and Mihrimah.
I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "Do you remember when I told you about my own Valide?"
Selim nodded solemnly. "You said she had to live far away because she was mean."
"Evet. Rukiye's mother is like that, too. That's why it's important for you, as her siblings, to show her the love she deserves but her mother cannot give her."
"Can you be her mother too?" Mihrimah asked, her voice tinged with hope.
"Yes, you are a very nice mother!" Selim seconded his sister, Hanzade nodding enthusiastically.
I stroked their cheeks, my heart swelling with pride at their compassion. "That is something we must ask your father and grandparents about, my treasures. But I am proud of you. May Allah bless you always."
As they nodded, their laughter returning, I looked at them with gratitude. For all the complexities of the palace, my children were my anchor, their innocence and love a balm for my weary heart.
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I love soft moments between Hatice and her family so much. Would you guys be interested in flashbacks of her old life?
Will Rukiye be under Hatice's guidance, or another consort's?
