Game of Sultans: A Series of Oneshots

The Sultan's Favorite

It had been a long, busy day. Magnus had been up and about since dawn, taking care of government affairs, visiting with his viziers, feasting with nobles, and helping Teri plan their son Ibrahim's wedding, which was to take place in a week. Him and Osilda's daughter Ela had also gotten engaged that day, to a visiting prince from across Istanbul, and a delighted Osilda had insisted on beginning the wedding preparations for her right away.

Hours passed, and he'd had barely enough time to go visit his younger children before the sun set. Now it was well after nightfall, and his whole body was tense with the day's events as he made his way to the Harem House. He sighed and walked inside the grand building, his footsteps muffled on the red carpet on the floor. He walked down the hall, his shadow dancing off the walls in the candlelight. He studied the doors as he passed by them. Each of his wives had placed something on the door to their bedroom to mark it as her own. Teri had painted spiritual symbols on hers. Osilda's door had her name written in the language of her homeland. Daphne had posted up quotes from her favorite professors and philosophers, copied down onto fresh parchment, written in her elegant script.

At last he came to the last door at the end of the hall. Compared to the others it was quite simple, only having a red silk ribbon tied around the handle. He found himself suddenly nervous, anxious for what lay on the other side of the door. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, his heart raced, and his breathing grew shallower. He licked his lips and took a moment to compose himself before gently knocking on the door.

"Come in," a smooth voice called from inside. He opened the door into more soft candlelight, and he sighed as the scent of roses washed over him. The room was a symphony of reds and golds, of elegant silk and satin and luxurious down cushions and pots of red roses atop every flat surface. It did wonders to calm the knots of stress in his body, but once he laid eyes on her all of his worries melted away.

She was lying in the center of the bed, surrounded by numerous books. There was one open in front of her, and her eyes scrolled from its pages up to him. The candlelight made her eyes twinkle, and her pink lips turned up into her usual soft smile.

"Hello, Sultan," she purred, and he shivered, his breath stolen away. He had always felt an intense attraction to her that was different from his attraction to his other wives. He hadn't even felt this way about Canfeza when he'd first met her, and he had been absolutely smitten with her. Not to say that he didn't love her all the same--he loved all of his wives deeply--but in his heart none of them could compare to the alluring beauty before him now.

"Felicia," he said with a smile as he shut the door. "How are you, love?"

"Better with you here," she said, placing a ribbon in her book before closing it.

He shrugged off his coat and placed it on a chair, then went over to her. He picked up one of the books on the bed, studied it, then picked up another one. Most of these books he had seen her reading before, those times when he'd randomly encountered her in the library or in the gardens. All of them were romances, as that was what she primarily read. Although he had never seen the one she had been reading before he had interrupted. "What are you reading?" he asked.

She stroked the book's cover. "Vizier Sinan found it for me. His wife is a big fan of this story, and he thought I would like it."

"Do you?"

Her smile grew. "Very much. It is definitely...not suited for children."

Magnus chuckled. "I don't believe any of your books are suited for children, love."

She slid her books off to the side. "No, they are not."

Magnus reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, his fingertips tracing along her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek. Her skin turned pink, but she held his heavy gaze with one of her own.