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 winter wind howled through the marble courtyard as though echoing the fury of the woman standing at its centre. Safiye's kaftan, once a symbol of her power, was now a defiant statement. Its golden embroidery gleamed even under the grey skies, though her regal appearance was betrayed by the rage that marred her elegant features. She paced back and forth like a caged lioness, her sharp commands and curses slicing through the cold air.
"Is this how you treat the mother of your şehzades?" She bellowed at the servants struggling to load her belongings. "Do not dare break a single piece, or I will see to it you pay with your lives!"
Her fury extended to anything within reach. A servant stumbled, nearly dropping an ornate chest, and Safiye seized a nearby vase, shattering it against the stone in a burst of ceramic shards. The poor boy cowered, murmuring apologies, but she paid him no mind, her wrath unrelenting.
From the terrace above, I watched the scene with a calm exterior, though my stomach churned. Safiye's downfall was inevitable, yet witnessing her unravel felt surreal. She was no longer the composed and calculating woman who had once dominated the palace but a storm on the verge of consuming itself.
Her piercing gaze darted upward, finding me with unerring precision. For a moment, the world seemed to pause as her fiery eyes met mine. Hatred radiated from her, sharp and unforgiving. I held her gaze, refusing to flinch, knowing this was the last battle of wills we would ever share. Her lips curled into a bitter smile, as though to say, "You'll regret this."
The sound of hooves broke the silence as the carriage approached, and the crunch of snow under its wheels was a stark reminder of the finality of this moment. Safiye's entourage began to file out, her most loyal servants reluctantly following her orders as they prepared to depart. She turned to face the gathered crowd—guards, servants, and a few daring onlookers—and her voice rang out.
"Remember this, all of you!" she shouted. "You may exile me today, but I will not be forgotten. My blood runs in the veins of the Sultan's heirs, and my legacy will outlast you all!"
Her words sent a chill through the onlookers, and even I felt a pang of unease. Safiye was many things—proud, ruthless, manipulative—but she was not wrong. Her children would carry her influence, and her name would remain a part of this dynasty for generations.
The carriage door opened, and she hesitated for a moment, scanning the palace she had once ruled with an iron grip. Then, with one last searing glance in my direction, she climbed inside. The door shut with a decisive thud, and the procession began to move. Snow fell in soft flakes, muting the sound of hooves and wheels as the carriage disappeared into the horizon.
I exhaled, the weight of the moment settling over me. Safiye was gone, but her shadow lingered. The silence in the courtyard was deafening, broken only by the shuffling of servants cleaning up the aftermath of her rage.
As I turned to leave, footsteps echoed down the corridor. Ayşe Hümaşah and Hümaşah Sultan approached, their furs dusted with snow and their expressions sharp as the winter wind. They stopped a few paces away, their eyes narrowing as they took in my composed demeanour.
"Hatice," Ayşe Hümaşah greeted, her tone polite but icy. "Quite the display today. Tell me, do you feel victorious?"
I inclined my head respectfully, careful to keep my tone measured. "Sultanas, I only do what is necessary for the stability of the dynasty."
Hümaşah Sultan stepped forward, her smirk was as cold as the air around us. "Stability? Or convenience? Safiye was many things, but she was no fool. Do not think you've silenced her influence so easily."
"I have no illusions, Sultanas," I replied evenly. "But my actions were for the good of the empire, nothing more."
"Keep telling yourself that," Ayşe Hümaşah said, her voice dripping with disdain. "But know this—Safiye may be gone, but her allies remain. We will not forget what you've done. You've made powerful enemies in the process."
"Is that a threat?" I asked, holding her gaze.
"It's a promise," Ayşe Hümaşah replied smoothly. "We'll ensure you never forget it."
They exchanged a look, their laughter ringing out like a warning as they walked away. I watched them go, their words lingering like frost in the air. Safiye was gone, but her removal had stirred a hornet's nest, and I had no doubt the battle for the palace was far from over. For the sake of my children, for the empire, I would remain steadfast. Winter might chill the air, but it would not freeze my resolve.
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Was Safiye exiled with Fatma?
(Double update!)
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family tree thus far:
Sultan Murad + Safiye Baş Kadın ⸺Hümaşah Sultan (16/05/1564) ⸺Şehzade Mehmed (8/07/1566) ⸺Şehzade Mahmud (22/01/1568) ⸺Ayşe Sultan (12/3/1575) ⸺Fatma Sultan (20/11/1576)
Sultan Murad + Fülane Hatun ⸺Rukiye Sultan (31/05/1566)
Sultan Murad + Hatice Kadın ⸺Mihrimah Sultan (29/10/1566) ⸺Şehzade Selim (29/10/1566) ⸺Hanzade Sultan (15/1/1569) ⸺Şehzade Abdullah (17/12/1573) ⸺Şehzade Süleyman (17/12/1573)
Sultan Murad + Şah Hatun ⸺Fahriye Sultan (8/1/1568)
Sultan Murad + Nazperver Kadın ⸺Şehzade Bayezid (28/11/1574) ⸺Hatice Sultan (18/5/1576)
Sultan Murad + Fakriye Hatun ⸺Beyhan Sultan (6/8/1575)
