Slavetoqueen قصص

This is the first fic I write so please don't hate on me Yukine is my Gf's oc I'll put her pic in the first chapter Also this fic is based on an rp so ill try to make it literate Now on the story plot: 1. Levi is a king and has a very dark past ,he was forced on being the king after the king and queen's death (he was 17 at the time) 2. Mikasa is his sister from his father (the last king) yes they have deferent moms 3. Yuki is working there as a slave to help her poor family

Sofia is an orphan from a village near Vienna but after the country is attacked, the only woman who was like a mother to her is killed and she is sent to Istanbul to be sold as a slave. She arrives in the Ottoman Empire and becomes part of the Sultan's harem, soon falling in love and discovering new reasons to live but nothing could have prepared her for the secrets and dangers of the harem.

She was born as the stars whispered secrets, beneath a spring sky in 1507, when the Pleiades shimmered too brightly to ignore. Odette Lyra Sinclair - a name once erased, a girl once cast aside. The bastard of a future king, exiled to France with her mother, raised among roses and ghosted titles. Polished, fluent, veiled. Then came the winter of 1518, sharp with destiny. Taken by pirates, lost to the waves of fate - only to resurface in the silken shadows of the Imperial Harem. November 24th, they record. She was brought not for pleasure, but to serve Hatice Sultan - and yet, history would remember her for much more. She was not loud. Her steps were hushed, her gaze unreadable. Still, the palace noticed. In the letters of the Valide, in the journals of the court stewards, in the glances exchanged when she passed - she was there. The White Phantom. The Veiled One. The girl who bowed, but never bent. For two years, the Sultan wondered. She intrigued him not with laughter, but with silence. He saw her with Mustafa, with Hatice, with Mahidevran - and always, she turned away. But fate is persistent. And one day, at a game of chess, his hand brushed her veil. And the world shifted. He never let her hide again. She bore him eight children. She wore a crown of sapphires that sang of forgotten oceans. He wrote her into verses, painted her with trembling fingers. She obliged the Crown not by demand, but by becoming indispensable - the soul he could not rule without. Others were queens. She was the Sultana of the Jahan.

She was a slave, he was a emperor.