Prince Vural spoke with a dominating pride in the room: "Ah, so you want my horse? Is that your condition, to claim my precious steed Adekür?"
Prince Mustafa replied with a calm expression: "Brother, let's not say 'your horse.' Adekür is the undefeated, the mightiest horse in this palace."
Vural responded with a slight smile: "Damn, are you burning with thirst, my son? Alright, I'm confident I'll win the bet, but your demand is quite peculiar. Do you remember when Adekür was brought from the Byzantine palace years ago, that in the Ottoman Palace, I was the only one who could master and ride him?"
Mustafa, taking a deep breath, replied: "I haven't forgotten! I won't forget! But if I win, that horse will be mine. If you can't accept this condition, it's your choice," and he took his glass, sipping his drink. At that moment, the room's atmosphere was filled with tense anticipation, as this agreement seemed to go beyond a mere bet, potentially altering the balance within the palace.
Prince Vural rose to his feet, taking a bold step forward towards Prince Mustafa. Planting himself in the center of the courtyard, he commanded attention with a dominating presence. His eyes blazed with fiery determination and boldness. "I'm in, I'm in! Let's see what you've got in the race," he exclaimed, his voice echoing through every corner of the garden, creating a gust of challenge.
Prince Mustafa, in response to Vural's challenge, calmly nodded his head, giving his approval. As the garden filled with a tense silence, Mustafa's expression radiated the determination of a wise ruler. "Agreed," he said, short and to the point.
This moment symbolized the beginning of a mysterious race between the two princes. The atmosphere carried the scent of an ambitious competition, heralding an unexpected excitement. It was the moment when a second encounter ignited the spark for a duel that would resonate in the palace courtyard.
The corridors of the palace echoed with an exciting mystery. Everyone secretly pondered the outcome of the competition between Prince Mustafa and Vural. Prince Vural had always excelled in fights and races, except for one exception: he was consistently defeated by Prince Mustafa in arm wrestling, which heightened the anticipation for some in the palace.
The princes swiftly moved to the race area as soon as they finished their meals. The initial clash would be in wrestling, a duel that would unfold between Prince Mustafa and Vural. The other princes in the palace, including some whose names had not yet been mentioned in the book, gathered in the arena. Their eyes were fixed on Mustafa and Vural in the mutual duel, eagerly awaiting the winner of this challenge.
In the palace garden, amidst the joyful sounds of the wedding celebration of Hatice Sultan and Pargalı, the rivalry between the brothers began. While many believed Vural would emerge victorious, some secretly hoped that Prince Bora would overcome Mustafa. This conflict would determine the strongest prince in the palace on that day. ⚔️
The battle had begun. The sharp gazes exchanged between Prince Mustafa and Bora were evidence of their immense desires for power and dominance. It was clear that the two brothers, leaning to measure each other in the wrestling arena, had no intention of being defeated that night. The wrestling match continued, and the struggle between Mustafa (Araz) occasionally appearing superior and Vural seeming like he might win was challenging. Because now, Mustafa was not as easily defeated by Vural as he had been years ago.
The final part of the competition had arrived. Both of them were exhausted, and in the last move, Vural managed to defeat Mustafa, bringing him down to the ground. While Prince Mustafa lay on the ground, visibly frustrated and breathless, Vural joyfully stood up and raised the victorious hand. Except for Bora, all the princes were filled with joy. After lifting the triumphant hand, Prince Vural shouted with enthusiasm, then extended his hand to Mustafa, helping him up from the ground. However, Prince Mustafa appeared very calm; there was a subtle blend of defeat and cunningness on his face.