"Why? Because I like Zeyn, and I don't want him to die!"
Sitting comfortably on a plush pillow, two attendants produced ventilation using the two large fans made of peacock feathers. The young Sultan rested his chin on the back of his palm while remembering the smiling face of a girl as she uttered her confession to him nonchalantly. It was the first time for Hazeyn, who was respected at an early age since he succeeded the Sultan title of the Ottoman Empire. He could still see the vivid colors of the eyes, a bright electric blue color in her right eye and cat eye's golden one to the left. It was hard not to remember someone like her – and her peculiar warning.
His attention returned to his trusted advisor, who was also his nanny since his father could not dote on him. The wrinkled advisor caught him soaking wet after that incident from yesterday. Though Zeyn knew that Muhammet was already used to his antics of fleeing from the palace. "Sultan Suleiman? Are you listening to me, Sultan Suleiman? You must –"
"– not venture beyond the palace walls. I know Muhammet Bey," said Zeyn as if he had already memorized what the poor advisor would say. Muhammet nodded at the attendants, and the latter left, leaving the advisor and Hazeyn alone in his verandah. Upon the former's action, Hazeyn straightened up, preparing for the onslaught of bad news.
"If you know, then start acting as the Sultan. The Grand Vizier Esad Fahrettin met with two governors when someone from their faction reported your disappearance."
Did someone report my disappearance? Hazeyn remembered the young girl's ridiculous claim about the sherbet. The first to know his disappearance would not be the advisor but his attendants. Among the attendants, only those who delivered their favorite sherbet on scheduled time were the ones that could notice it first.
'But how can that young girl know about this?' Hazeyn pondered.
"Give me the name of the governors." Gone was the relaxed attitude of the young Sultan as he addressed the problem that even his father had difficulty solving.
The bureaucracy of the Ottoman Empire got one ruler, the Sultan, Sultan Hazeyn Suleiman. Born to be the next successor, the young Sultan had to prove himself worthy among the officials who earned their titles not by birthright succession but through accumulating merits. The following person to the Sultan in terms of power was the Grand Vizier Esad Fahrettin, who was also the thorn that divided the viziers. The viziers were composed of two major factions. The Religious Sect was the first faction wherein the heads of the Muslims, Jews, and Christians were the founding pillar of the sect. The Bureaucratic Sect was the second major faction that consisted of the military and the governors.
"Sevim Hanim and Tevrat Bey," answered the advisor. Sevim Hanim, the governor of the northern territory who supplied the attendants to the main palace.
'Now, it's making sense.' Hazeyn thought.
Tevrat Bey, the man behind every close-door transaction of the empire's intelligence unit. The western territory flourished within his governance, and Hazeyn knew that the intelligence unit played a significant role in that.
Lilac eyes darkened like embers as he walked to the railings of the verandah. Before the young Sultan's eyes laid the colorful and prosperous capital of the empire, Constantinople. The buzzing central square where all the merchants of the empire met for trade, and to his east was the serene river where he met the young girl.
'I am looking forward to seeing her again.'
KOSEM STARED at her abusive father, Feraize, with soulless eyes. His silver beard covered his nonexistent neck, and his plump face turned red when his black eyes met her colorful ones. "You monster! You bring misfortune to me! I told you to steal, but you came back with no single akce yesterday, and now you are getting sick? You useless thing!"
Though stout, his heavy leg kicked Kosem's slumped body to the floor. But Feraize's irritation grew worse when he could not hear the cries he enjoyed.
Kosem did not shed any tears as he stared at the father that Kosem feared so much in the past.
Kosem cocked her head and asked herself in the back of her mind. 'Why did I fear this brainless man anyway? He drinks until he falls asleep and wakes up to torment his young daughter. What a waste of existence.'
"What did she do again?" A beautiful woman went inside their humble house. Her brunette hair was like Kosem's hair. Her small face and lavish satin wrapped around her dainty body were her weapons to earn akce for her luxurious way of living – her mother was a common whore in Constantinople.
Feraize grunted, lifting his leg from Kosem's bruised back. "It's her second day staying and eating in this house without paying us back."
Terim, Kosem's mother, whisked her hairclip towards Kosem's head. The clank of the hairclip when it hit her forehead echoed like a sick sound inside the small enclosed space of the house. The sight of Kosem's blood trickling down her left eye brought a wicked grin to Terim and Feraize.
But like a mechanical doll, Kosem simply swiped the blood. Her action brought a second wave of agitation to her parents. Scoffing, Terim went to their small kitchen. "Serve me my sherbet. Hurry!"
"But we don't have the ingredients to make a sherbet." Kosem stood up, dusting off the dirt from her worn satin dress. It was the only satin dress she had while the others were rags sewn together.
'My past life. I am such a pitiful girl. I can't understand Zeyn for falling in love with me. A coward, a hypocrite, and a weak person – that is the past Kosem.'
Feraize fisted her hair, earning a gasp from Kosem. He dragged her towards the front door, not caring that a storm was raging outside or his daughter was burning with fever. "And whose fault is that? Go and get the ingredients for your mother's sherbet! I don't care what you do, whether you steal or sell your filthy body for it, just hurry up, you useless girl!"
Kosem's small body fell to the muddy ground as the heavy raindrops soaked her. Aah, Kosem. You were such a pitiful child.
Thunderclaps wreaked havoc upon the capital, but the prestige of the Sultan's palace shone brighter every time the lightning flashed. It is like a scene from Pinterest. Her bare feet brought Kosem to the oak forest. She did not need to buy the ingredients for a simple sherbet. She only needed to know the twists and turns of the oak forest.
Her small silhouette wandered in the Oak forest. She walked as if her parents had never told her to hurry up. For her, it was better for them to get drunk while waiting for her because it would be easier to execute her plan.
In the darkness, Kosem located the flower she would use for her mother's sherbet.
'I hope mother will love this sherbet I made with love.'
The sarcastic thoughts of Kosem entertained her amidst her cold journey. It took a great effort not to collapse against the cold, harsh wind, but she steeled herself.
Shivering, Kosem arrived. The bottles of alcohol loitered around her. Kicking the empty bottle in her way, Kosem announced her arrival, but the two did not mind her. Feraize and Terim, who were lost in their merry world, were giggling in a cramped and dirty kitchen.
In her slurred words, Terim threw an empty bottle toward Kosem, who walked faster to avoid the onslaught of bottles from her deranged mother. "You filthy child! You dare make me, the beautiful Terim, wait for my sherbet! You should worship the path I walk since you destroyed my body by giving birth to a stupid child like you!"
Kosem muted her wailing parents as she expertly created the sherbet. The swift movements of her fingers were a testament that this young body of Kosem spent her childhood serving her parents. How low can we get, Kosem?
"Here is your sherbet, mother, father." Kosem politely served the sherbet to the table before her drunkard parents. Her mother's frowning face lightened up as she gulped the sherbet in one go! "What did you put in here? It tastes good!"
Feraize, who was busy glaring at Kosem, took an interest in the served sherbet. Like his wife, he gulped the sherbet in one go.
Kosem, though bowing her head, grinned like a Cheshire cat as she watched her parents gulp down the sherbet. "It is indeed good! You got some talent making sherbet, I see! What about I sell you to the palace's kitchen staff?" His eyes glinted with the thought of akce. What a filthy parent.
She stood a meter away from the couple while bowing her head, her hair dripping to their floor. Kosem observed her pathetic excuse of parents. They resented her for having different eye colors – her bright blue-colored right eye and golden-colored left eye. The people in their neighborhood whispered about her being a cursed one earning her the wrath of her father. And her mother loathed Kosem for destroying her body when she gave birth to Kosem. But her parents could not get rid of her because of that one particular ring that Feraize always used proudly.
The ring symbolized the promise that the Grand Vizier held to Feraize's father, Kosem's grandfather. It was the promise to adopt Kosem when she reached the age of sixteen, which would be three months from now.
Kosem snapped from her train of thoughts when Feraize and Terim started to cough hard. They were heaving as if they could not breathe as they held their throats for reprieve. Feraize's eyes met hers. "Water! Give me water!" His short limbs tried to reach her, but she was an inch too far, which made him stumble to the ground, and his heaving worsened. Terim, on the other hand, scratched her throat frantically as she gasped for air like a fish starved with water. Her smooth fingernails scratched the wooden table as she tried to utter words.
Kosem remained unmoving as she watched her parents gasp for air. Their eyes turned red as blood flowed out from their eyes, nose, and ears. "You want to know why the sherbet tastes exceptionally good? I added some Wolfsbane flower, beloved parents."
Feraize, who was still alive, turned his head towards her in his slumping form on the floor. The foam from his mouth stopped him from cursing her. His moves were almost nonexistent, so Kosem confidently sat in front of her father – her small hands reached for the ring.
The once dead eyes of Kosem glinted – and Feraize saw how his meek daughter showed her true colors. Kosem's emotionless face was smiling as she watched her father die.
"To get adopted by the Grand Vizier, I need to be an orphan first. So die, father. Die for me."
"You! You're a monster!" These were her father's last words that made Kosem laugh maniacally. "Oh, father. Do not worry, I will bring you lots of akce in your grave. After all, this daughter of yours will be a sultan."
Killing her parents was her first step to changing history.
'And tomorrow, I will be the daughter of the person who killed Zeyn and me. Let this be the road of disparity for all those who condemned Zeyn and me.'