Alright everyone, this is chapter two of Legacy of The Romans and here we will turn to Helena of Gothia, the official wife of the late Sultan Suleiman III and focus in on the brewing power struggle within The Ottoman Empire. Please read, review, and enjoy!
The Legacy of The Romans.
Act I.
The Empresses of The Third Rome.
Chapter II.
Standing at The Crossroads.
I was born an Orthodox Crimean Greek in The Principality of Theodoro, my father had been The Sovereign Prince and it seemed that I would've been his heiress, however, The Ottomans annexed The Crimean Khanate and moved quickly to expel The Genoese from The Pontic Steppe, it was obvious that Theodoro was next. A power struggle engulfed The Ottoman Empire and bought us some time, but Suleiman III murdered his brothers and took the throne, ready to conquer Theodoro with absolute brutality against Theodoro's population of Greeks and Goths. My father was a realist, he knew that we couldn't win a war against them, he offered to surrender his realm without a fight if The Ottomans allowed us to flee to Genoa. Suleiman III refused, but after I, at only nineteen, sacrificed myself to a life as his obedient wife, thus, my father and the rest of the family fled to The Italian city-state while Theodoro was absorbed into Ottoman Crimea and I was forced to convert to Islam and joined my new husband in Konstantiniyye, known as Constantinople to the west. I have been Sultana for two years and a year ago I gave birth to our first and only son, Abdullah Timur Osman, he was now Sultan Abdullah Timur I. My son was only a year old, but he was destined for greatness, he bore dozens of legendary bloodlines, he was the heir of The Ottoman dynasty, and, in addition to his grandfather Abdullah's name, he wore the name of Timur, also known as Tamerlane, the latest of the great conquerors to tear through Central Asia and Persia. The Timurids at one point had been a worthy opponent to The Ottomans, before they were destroyed by internal conflicts and all sorts of separatists, now, a new Persia has risen up from their ashes, created by The Qara Qoyunlu Sultanate after we pushed them out of The Levant and Bagdad. This new Persia was a large and Shia Empire and thus, it was a natural enemy to the larger and Sunni Ottoman Empire, hence, my husband had defeated them and took eastern Armenia and Baku as his prize, crippling Qara Qoyunlu Persia and reestablishing Ottoman glory, only for my husband to be stabbed in the back by his own troops, leaving my son as his only possible successor.
Of course, Sultan of The Ottomans was only one of my son's many, many titles, he was Padishah, he was Caliph, and perhaps most importantly, he was Kayser-i Rum, meaning Caesar of Rome. He is the blood of numerous Byzantine Princesses from both The House Palaiologos and The House Komnenos and our ancestors have claimed Rome by conquest of Constantinople - a claim that was recognized by The Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, though not by The Patriarch of Moscow and all Rus, nevertheless, my son had the blessing of The Orthodox Church, The Russians had the blessing of their heretical offshoot, a heresy has now place in deciding who has the right to claim descent from Rome. My son had the backing of both Sunni Islam and The Byzantine Church, therefore, it was my duty to ensure that The Empire that he inherits will be even greater than the one that his father left behind - I was only twenty-one years old and I was entirely aware that my blood is Crimean Greek rather than Turkish of Byzantine, but my father had raised me to take the reigns of The Principality of Theodoro and, while The Ottoman Empire was certainly much more of a challenge, I would manage, I would strengthen our army, I would expand our borders, and I will eliminate anyone who threatens my son, whether they be within or without my borders. In order to do that, however, I would need to pry power away from The Grand Vizier who already thought of himself as The Sultan's regent - I would have none of it.
"Helena, I only have your son's best interests at heart, entrust his regency in me and I shall see him educated in The Turkish ways and prepared for The Sultanate, it will be for the best for The Ottomans and for the best for your family." Grand Vizier Ibrahim Pasha, a conservative Anatolian Turk who my husband had appointed as Grand Vizier despite the fact that the post has traditionally been granted to Europeans in order to appease our vast populations of Greeks, Bulgarians, Turks, and Serbs, though I suppose that taking a Greek wife was also a way to appease The Europeans, even if I was of a Crimean lineage descended from Anatolian aristocracy within The Byzantine Empire rather than European lineage. There were three of us in this particular room of Topkapi Palace - myself, The Grand Vizier, and Captain Filip Draganov, a prominent Bulgarian Janissary entrusted with protecting me and my son here in Konstantiniyye while my husband had been away fighting The Persians. The boyish Captain and I had developed an excellent working relationship and we would soon see the fruits of that relationship.
"I am more than capable of administering The Empire and taking care of my son, Ibrahim, and I will not be questioned." I replied sternly, hoping that a final warning could force The Grand Vizier to back down before Captain Draganov and I had to get our hands dirty "Back down now while you can still salvage your career as a Grand Vizier, you can't win this Ibrahim, no one is going to side with a politician over the mother of The Sultan."
"You do not know this Empire, girl." Ibrahim replied coldly "The Ottomans will not stand for having to submit to a woman, I will not stand for it, a female has never held the throne and a female never will, not even as regent - back down while you can still salvage your life - no one is going to side with a Greek convert over a born-and-raised Turkish Grand Vizier."
"You are making a mistake Ibrahim, give up or the consequences will be irreversible." I warned him once again, perhaps I shouldn't have bothered, but I didn't want to have The Grand Vizier killed so early within my reign as Grand Vizier, but he was leaving me no other choice. I don't know how much clearer I can make it that I will be my son's regent and nobody shall stand in my way of delivering him the strongest Empire that Europe, Asia, or Africa has ever seen, equal to, and perhaps even greater than Rome, standing proudly at the crossroads of Europe, Asia, and Africa.
"No, you are the one making the mistakes - do you know who are enemies are? The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth would love nothing more than to let their Winged Hussars trample over The Balkans, The Persians will jump at the chance to reverse their losses against your husband, The Holy Roman Emperor already wants to expel us from The Pannonian Basin, The Portuguese and The Spanish will leap at the chance to conquer Algiers once they're done with The Moroccans, and The Russians...do I even need to lecture you on how dangerous they are?" The Grand Vizier spoke with unhinged rage, clearly trying to intimidate me with his greater height and mass, I refused to so much as flinch, even as his awful breath assaulted my face - I knew that if I backed down now, it would only prove The Grand Vizier right, to surrender now would be to become a coward and to give in to Ibrahim Pasha, I would not allow this, I would stand my ground and then Captain Draganov would show him the consequences for resisting me. I had to be cutthroat in order to survive as a female regent within The Ottoman Empire, as much as he was being a power hungry disobedient fool, he did have a point, if The Ottomans got a hint of weakness, they wouldn't hesitate to dispose of me, however, The Anatolian Pasha failed to consider one very important thing - The Janissaries, the elite bodyguards of The Sultan and his family, were Christian boys from our Balkan, Armenian, and Crimean provinces who were forced to convert to Islam and live under strict conditions as slaves: they couldn't marry, trade, or worship freely, therefore, The Janissaries, such as Captain Draganov, sympathized with me and I sympathized with them, therefore, The Grand Vizier would be lying in a pool of his own blood in a few moments while I act as my son's regent.
"Get the Hell out of my Palace." I replied, Captain Draganov grabbed him and pulled him away, the thin yet very competent Captain turned to me, I gave him a nod and he pulled out a short dagger. I watched as Draganov stabbed the struggling Grand Vizier in the hip, he screamed but he managed to break free and pulled out a weapon of his own, stabbing Draganov in the gut, but not before the Captain swung his blade through Ibrahim Pasha's throat, killing him with a bloody mess. The Grand Vizier fell on the floor dead with a food as blood poured over the tiled floor of this room. Captain Draganov covered his stomach wound - I saw a large hole in his uniform from beneath his small and oddly delicate hand, but I didn't see a drop of blood nor did I see The Captain in any real pain. His face grew pale as I realized that something was very strange here "What is going on here?"
"I'm fine, kind regent, my armor took the blow of his stab." Captain Draganov lied, he adjusted his hand over the hole in his clothing but I could still see it, I could still see the evidence of Draganov's lie and he knew that too, but the young and soft-spoken was too nervous to tell me - very well then, I was a smart woman and I could figure this out. I circled around Captain Draganov slowly, preventing The Captain from turning around - I saw the dark hair tied into a tight ponytail just beneath his large Janissary Captain's hat, I saw his legs which were thinner and at the same time more curvaceous than a man's legs, I noticed that he looked wider in the front than at the back and once he moved his hand, I saw white feathers from beneath his clothing - a pillow.
"You're wearing a pillow beneath your clothes." I informed her, less than impressed with finding out that my co-conspirator hadn't been honest with me, even though The Grand Vizier lies dead mere feet away from us. I would arrange for that to be cleaned up in a moment, but before I could, I was going to find out what exactly was going on with The Captain, I may need to pin The Grand Vizier's death on The Janissary and have him killed because of this, but I could hope that, besides this one issue, my co-conspirator has been honest with me
"I'm aware, my kind regent." Captain Draganov's voice seemed more and more feminine with every sentence that he said, I didn't know if this was an actual development or if I was just becoming more and more aware of Filip's feminine side. I could visualize the female body below her armor and clothing, she had large breasts which she helped disguise with a pillow beneath her chest, evening out her front and making her look more barrel chested than female, The design of her uniform did a hood job of hiding her hips but her legs gave her away, as did the ponytail, though long hair wasn't a particularly rare trait among men in 17th century Europe, but that combined with everything else meant that now everything made sense - Captain Draganov was a woman in disguise. I grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her away from the dead body of The Grand Vizier that was stinking up the room - I needed to interrogated this woman without the stench of a dead body clouding my senses - sure she conspired with me to kill Ibrahim Pasha and sure she did it, but she never told me that she was a she and if she couldn't even be honest with me about that, how could I be sure that she would be honest about covering up the conspiracy? Right now, The Ottomans would have no choice but to accept me as regent, however, there are certain factions of The Empire who will never tolerate a Greek female convert to have a Turkish male who was born-and-raised Islamic killed, regardless of the circumstances.
"You're a woman." Once again I stated the obvious, pointing out something that the both of us knew, if for no reason other than to rub in the fact that I know and the showcase my displeasure at being lied to. I was not mad because Captain Draganov was a woman, obviously that would be hypocritical of me, in fact, I could guess at some of the reasons that she would disguise herself as a man and impersonate a Janissary, especially considering that the alternative is a less than stellar life within The Sultan's Harem, an indulgence that even my husband Suleiman III had engaged in, albeit in his case, he didn't produce any children with The Harem...not that I know of anyway, in the two years that we were married, we never became particularly close, my love is for my son and my son happens to have had a Sultan for a father, therefore, I am doing what is best for The Sultanate for my son, not in honor of my late husband who was much more of a conqueror than a husband, lover, or a father, not that I minded all that much.
"I know." She replied, clearly embarrassed at being found out and not willing to say more. The problem here is that The Captain who called herself Filip Draganov is a fabrication and I had no way of knowing if anything else she told me is a fabrication or not - for all I know, the moment that I let her out of my sight she will gather up Turks to overthrow me and kill me, using Ibrahim Pasha as a martyr. I needed to make sure this assassination was kept as small and tightly-managed secret, the public would hear that Ibrahim Pasha died of natural causes, with only myself, Draganov, and two trusted members of The Topkapi Palace staff to clean up the mess knowing the truth, this is what I need to be regent and this is what my son needs in order to become Sultan one day. I was well aware that this assassination could be my undoing as well as his, therefore, I needed to ensure that Captain Draganov has been and always will be honest with me.
"You have lied to me." I announced, artificially adding venom to my words to make myself seem far angrier than I actually am in order to intimidate the poor Balkan girl - I hated to do this, but I knew that I had to, my son's future depended on it.
"My fair regent, I did nothing of the sort." She pleaded, now she was actually lying to me, she knew damn well that she had deceived me with that disguise of hers, even if she didn't outright lie, I was not going to let her wiggle her way out of this on some sort of technicality.
"That's a lie and you know it!" I yelled, who did she think she was lying in my face? Being a poor Balkan girl trying to survive in The Ottoman Empire with her dignity intact is one thing, lying to the regent of that Empire was another, she was testing my tolerance for this sort of nonsense. I had a one year old son in the hands of nursemaids from who knows where, I had one of the largest Empires in history to manage, and I was surrounded by powerful enemies on virtually all sides - I did not need crossdressers interfering in court life on top of all that.
"I never told you that I was a man." She was still trying to win me over on a technicality, as if this was some sort of stupid game. I backhanded her across the face and watched as she fell to the ground, stunned with her Janissary's hat flying off her head - it was almost symbolic, the hat that marked her as a Janissary Captain fell of her head, just like my former co-conspirator was now falling from my grace.
"Do not test me girl, I did not get into this position by being fooled by people like you." I growled, pulling her up by her shirt collar, still depriving her of that Captain's hat of hers "Give me one reason why I should keep you around."
"I'm the only Janissary Captain you can trust to be obedient to you, the others can be bought by men like The Grand Vizier, but you know my secret and without your protection, my position would crumble, therefore, you have my undying loyalty!" The Captain pleaded, real tears in her eyes now - our conspiracy was successful but despite that, Draganov - or shall I say Draganova - could see her position crumbling all around her, for good reason too, she was desperate. Desperate as she was, she made a compelling point, while my background did mean that I had sympathy from The Janissaries, sympathy hardly guaranteed loyalty, but the threat of her career collapsing and either being stuffed in The Harem or killed outright meant that she would be loyal, she had no choice. I could work with this, she would serve as my pocket Janissary, my go-to contact, and my obedient servant.
"Well...what is your name?" I finally asked, wanting to know her true name if nothing else because I agreed to anything.
"My name is Olga Filipova Draganova, Filip Draganov is my father." She revealed both her true name and her father's name, The Bulgarian Janissary was finally being honest with me, that much was making it easier to stomach her previous lies, I suppose that I'll take her up on her offer, after all, she's armed with a dagger and she hasn't killed or even threatened me yet, that alone deserves a little bit of trust.
"Very well Olga, I'll keep your secret, but you'll be my personal Janissary - you are loyal to me, not your fellow Janissaries, not to anyone who claims to represent the best interests of The Ottoman Empire, not even my government officials, you take your orders from me and me alone, understood?" I would certainly find a use for her, but only if she was ready and willing to be put to use without asking any ruinous questions, she proved herself very useful when she killed The Grand Vizier but this crossdressing Bulgarian Janissary would have to do a lot more to remain in my favor, she would be my spy within The Janissaries, she would be my private assassin, and she would be my General, but I would be her mistress.
"I understand, my fair regent." She bowed her head and I allowed her to grab her Captain's hat once more, returning to the façade of Captain Draganov, but to me she would always be Olga and I would not forget that she was exposed. She was dealt with, now I just had to find a couple of loyal members of The Palace staff to clean up after The Grand Vizier's messy death.
I wore a long black headscarf with gold, white, red, and green patterns decorating it along with a green and gold dress as I walked around Topkapi Palace, waiting impatiently for the sun to set so I could finally retrieve Abdullah Timur from the nursemaids, but I had to wait. The Palace staff had already cleaned up the mess and disposed of The Grand Vizier's corpse, his death would be explained away later at which point I would appoint my own Grand Vizier and assert my authority as regent and acting Sultana, but I had to wait. I wanted to know what our enemies were up to, in particular The Russians, but I had to wait. Waiting, waiting, and waiting, I was only twenty-one years old, two years ago I was an Orthodox Christian heiress, now I'm prepared to spent over a decade at the helm of the very Muslim empire that swallowed up the realm I was supposed to inherit - I should be Princess of Theodoro at most, what was I doing as Sultana of The Ottomans? I had skills, sure, but I had the skills for a minor Principality in southern Crimea, I didn't truly have the skills to be Sultana, did I? Yet here I was, having Grand Viziers killed, raising the child of a man I should hate but instead I married, and waiting anxiously for something, anything to happen just so I didn't have to confront my own doubts. The Grand Vizier and Olga were useful obstacles, but now the former is dead and the latter I effectively turned into a terrified slave - this is no place for a twenty-one year old Greek, this is no place for some stupid girl on a stupid mission for a son that I didn't even consider having until I surrendered myself to The Sultan - I still shudder when I think of his greedy paws groping my body, roughly squeezing my breasts without caring if I was in pain, and brutally penetrating me with his member - I had lost my virginity that night, but there was no pleasure in it. Abdullah Timur is the result of that wretched night and a part of me wishes that it never happened, but he is my son, he is my flesh and blood, I may be unworthy, I may be weak, I may be in way over my head, but this isn't about me, this is about my son and I did not go through that awful night just to let him down!
I was determined but I was also conflicted, I was confidant but I was also deeply doubting myself, I was certain but I was also uncertain - it's days like this that drive me absolutely mad, I couldn't be a Sultana like this, I couldn't even be a mother like this - I needed something to calm me down and quickly, before I have to actually do anything involving either of those positions - I feel like I'll explode if I don't find a way to relieve a lot of stress right now. I wandered Topkapi Palace searching for such a stress relief - The Janissary Headquarters? No, I was in no mood for war or politics. The Palace Mosque? No, I was in no condition for praying and I certainly didn't want to deal with Clerics right now. The Bath house? No, I was in no mood to sweat through a Turkish bath right now. I sighed, nothing seemed to provide an ounce of sanity here, of course, I could do what my husband had always done and go off to that damned Harem, but I was better than that, I had no business dealing with the latest batch of crying teenagers that The Ottomans have kidnapped for The Sultan's enjoyment. Part of me wanted to disband The Harem right now and end that disgusting practice, but I didn't want to deprive my son of the method that every Sultan up until now has used to grow their dynasty, after all, I didn't want Abdullah Timur I to be the last Sultan, if he decides that he must use that disgusting institution to give me grandchildren, then I shall let him reach maturity and make that decision on his own, but until then, I will ensure that those girls will go unharmed. In the mean time, perhaps I would find a source of some sanity and relief outside of Topkapi Palace, out there beyond these Palace walls is the city of Konstantiniyye, or Constantinople, or Byzantium, or New Rome, or Miklagard, or Istanbul - the city with a thousand names, a thousand wonders, and thousands upon thousands of secrets. The city of The World's Desires but the city I've never really had the chance to see, really I've only see the harbor that I arrived at and the grounds of Topkapi Palace, I've never seen the real city, I've never seen the really people of Konstantiniyye, all I've ever seen is what The Ottomans have wanted me to see - that needs to change.
I knew that The Palace guards would never allow me to walk through the proper entrance, so instead, I went to a secret exit near the corner of The Topkapi Palace complex - Suleiman III showed it to me as a way for myself and my son to escape in case of a siege on Konstantiniyye by any of our many, many enemies - I'm sure that the rare event of an Ottoman regency has definitely emboldened our enemies and I was certain that the balance of power here in The eastern Mediterranean, The Near East, and eastern Europe would change radically, this is the kind of political crap that I constantly have to worry about, all without anyone to talk to, all without anyway of venting, all I have is myself and my baby son who's a year old and still hasn't made a single step or said a word yet. This is why I needed to get the hell out of The Palace for a little bit, because even if I failed to find anyone to talk to out there, escaping The Palace for a little while would at least provide some relief and an excellent distraction for the afternoon until I could finally liberate my son from the nursemaids.
I slipped out of The Palace through the secret exit knowing that the common people would never know how I looked like, in this dress and this headscarf, I could pass for any wealthy Greek woman in Konstantiniyye, the population of Greeks here in their former capital city was still quite high, though The Ottomans made sure that more and more Turks settled in the city at the crossroads of the world. I wandered through the bustling streets filled with every color imaginable, I wandered through the bazaar at rush hour, wandering past crowds of people attending to stalls manned by shrewd salesmen - I heard haggling, I saw beautiful and colorful ornate rugs, and I smelled smells that I never smelled before. I unconsciously walked over to one of the vender's stalls, grabbing a beautiful smelling flower and pulling it to my nose, inhaling in the exotic scents and enjoying the brave new world outside of the confines of Topkapi Palace.
I was brought back to Earth by the salesman clearing his throat, I sheepishly set the flower back down and apologized before making my way out of The Bazaar. I was a little embarrassed over having had sniffed a flower in public with no intention of buying it - I probably came across as a total fish out of water, which granted, I was - but I was still happy that I did it, I have been in Konstantiniyye for two years and this is the first time that I've truly had the chance to see the city. As I was leaving The Bazaar, I noticed something very interested.
I saw Olga outside of her Janissary uniform, she wore a regular sleeveless blue dress with a low neckline - such clothing would never be worn by an Islamic woman in Konstantiniyye but I already figured that The Captain practiced Orthodox Christianity despite the forceful conversions of the boys that became Janissaries. The guards would not take kindly to seeing a Janissary wandering freely and acting outside of Islamic traditions, but when the guards saw Olga, they didn't see a Janissary Captain, they saw an attractive young Bulgarian woman living in Konstantiniyye, making a living, and doing her shopping. I followed her at a distant, interested in the double life of my new personal Janissary - this wasn't even about gathering blackmail material, I was just curious. I followed her through the streets of the city and into a modest apartment building, I followed her up the stairs and I stopped at the corner and watched as she made her approach to her own apartment door - I wouldn't go so far as to follow her into the apartment itself. Olga scanned every direction, evidently having felt someone following her, I hid behind the corner and waited for her to brush it off as paranoia following her interrogation earlier today. I watched as she finally turned around and knocked on the door, another young woman, a Slav as well judging by her appearance opened the door, they thought the coast was clear when they shared a kiss before slipping into the apartment - like I said, a city with thousands upon thousands of secrets.
I took a scenic route out of the apartment building, walking past Olga's door - I couldn't understand any Slavic language but I caught my name, Olga was likely telling her lover about me figuring out her secret today...I felt guilty when her voice broke and a smooth stream of what I assumed was Bulgarian gave way to tears - she was just another woman trying to make the most of her unfortunate life in Konstantiniyye, and today I threatened to rip it all away from her simply guess she hadn't revealed her secret to me during our assassination conspiracy against Grand Vizier Ibrahim Pasha. I left the apartment building feeling angry at myself, once again I failed to do the right thing, once again my doubt was overtaking me - I couldn't return to Topkapi Palace, not yet anyway, I needed to find something that would let me forget my day and my mistakes, only then could I return to The Palace and confront the challenges of a mother and an acting Sultana. Olga has a life and loved ones outside of the sphere of Topkapi Palace, yet I was a damned fool and failed to consider that there was more to her than the potential mole who could break the news about the assassination plot - I almost wrecked her life just because she didn't reveal to me that she was a woman in disguise despite the fact that it was ultimately inconsequential to the conspiracy or its aftermath. Who knows how many sleepless nights I caused for Olga and her lover? Who knows what she might do to escape from being my personal Janissary - given that I've never explained the limits of what that entails, admittedly I never fully thought about it myself, but now I'm realizing that perhaps Draganova expected something far darker than what I had intended. I can certainly sympathize with Olga, especially given that I had bad experiences with my late husband Suleiman III. I will be sure to talk to Olga tomorrow once she dons the identity of Captain Draganov once again and from there we can reassert our relationship and effectively start over.
I left the apartment building and walked to the docks along The Golden Horn, seeing all kinds of ships with all kinds of goods, everything from exotic goods for The Bazaars around the city to highly explosive gunpowder for the infinitely massive Ottoman military operating everywhere from The Tigris and Euphrates rivers in our Near Eastern provinces to Algiers in The Maghreb, from The Persian Gulf to The Pannonian Basin where our forwardmost outposts threatened the core of Europe, even Vienna, from The Holy cities of Mecca and Medina in the south, up past the third Holy site of Jerusalem all the way north to Crimea and The Pontic Steppe, including my homeland of Theodoro. The Ottoman Empire was a massive, massive state, but the thing in The Empire that was drawing me more than anything else was The Hagia Sophia. The Hagia Sophia was an engineering marvel, created as a Chalcedonian Christian Church at the height of The Byzantine Empire before the fall of Constantinople to The Ottomans when we converted the now Orthodox Church into a mosque, and over the more than a century and a half that we have ruled this city, we have raised the four minarets surrounding it.
I made my way from the harbor over to The Hagia Sophia, making my way through afternoon Konstantiniyye, passing people of every creed and color - Muslims, Christians, Jews, Turks, Greeks, Arabs, Egyptians, Armenians, Albanians, Venetians, Genoese, Kurds, Bulgarians, Serbians, Romanians, and Gypsies - groups from all over The Ottoman Empire congregated together here at the heart and soul of our civilizations, The Europeans will never think of us as anything more than The Turkish conquerors of Constantinople, but the truth is far more complex, The Ottomans are more than just the homogenous Turks that The Europeans love to imagine us as, Turks are just the ruling group in an Empire of many, Islam is just the state religion of an Empire of numerous faiths, and Konstantiniyye is the heart of our homogenous Empire, The Ottomans are now inseparable from our capital. The Hagia Sophia was now an Ottoman landmark rather than a Byzantine one, we turned this Church into a mosque that was uniquely of our own, even if The Europeans will never accept that. The Europeans will never accept anything about The Ottoman Empire, not our size, nor our power, and not our claim to The Roman Empire, but I didn't care, my son would achieve greatness and I would present him with the largest and greatest Empire this side of China once he reaches maturity, even if I have to dismantle The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and The Tsardom of Russia in order to accomplish it, this was my son's legacy and it was my duty to see him crowned Sultan here at The Hagia Sophia.
But was I worthy of the task? It was easy to say that I wanted to wipe out The Poles and The Russians, but it was another thing to actually do it. The Poles and Lithuanians ruled a vast territory and their Winged Hussars produced enough noise and fought valiantly enough that they could intimidate our infantry into vastly overestimating their numbers and fleeing as Polish lances thrusted into their backs, killing the would-be cowards. The Russians were even more dangerous, they ruled an even vaster realm and their Cossacks ditched the heavy armor of The Polish Hussars for deadly speed, similar to The Tatar horseman that once occupied The Russian Steppe before being Russified and replaced by The Cossacks, not to mention the new ruler of Russia, Tsarina Anastasia. She could be harmless, she could be our worst nightmare, no one knew for sure but nobody wanted to poke the sleeping bear that is Russia. I looked at The Hagia Sophia, it was a Greek Church that was converted to Islam, but how much effort would it take to turn it back into a Church? Tear down the minarets, add a cross to the top of the dome, and fill the interior with pews and an altar once again. I was a Greek who was converted to Islam, how much effort would it really take to leave this life behind and join my family in exile, now that Suleiman III was gone, the agreement between him and my father, the former Prince of Theodoro, was now void, wasn't it? I wouldn't mind ruling over a smaller realm, a low pressure realm, but this was The Ottoman Empire, I couldn't do this, I couldn't fill my wretched husband's shoes for a son who may become just as wretched, this wasn't a place for someone like me. I went beyond the grounds of The Hagia Sophia and continued on until I reached a perch from which I could see all of Konstantiniyye. I saw The Golden Horn emptying out into The Bosporus, beyond that, I saw The Black Sea on one side and on the other side I saw The Aegean Sea leading out into The Mediterranean, and between it all, I saw both Europe and Asia. The crossroads of the world and the crossroads of my life. My heart longed for freedom, my heart longed to give up the regency and leave The Ottoman Empire, but my heart also longed to see my son Abdullah Timor again, and my mind knew that I had to return to Topkapi Palace, it is for the best for my son, even if it's not the best for me. I took a deep breath and I made my way away from the perch and found my way back to Topkapi Palace, for better or worse, my life was here.
"My fair regent," a young Greek nursemaid bowed, carrying Abdullah Timur with him, I was grateful to see him once again, he spends all day with the nursemaids but I spend the evening with him before putting him to bed, I did not allow my new position in The Ottoman Empire to keep me from being the mother to my one and only child, I was now regent, yes, but I was the regent to my son and on top of that, I was his mother and I had to take care of him at least some of the time, otherwise Abdullah Timur may think of these nursemaids as his mother figures.
"Hello Xanthippi," I greeted her, she has been around my son for long enough that I've learned her name and committed it to memory. I asked her the three questions that I always asked her when she returned Abdullah Timur to me, I didn't want to miss any of the vital moments in my child's life and I know that around now he should be beginning to say his first words or start walking - I admit that I'm rather concerned that neither of these things have happened yet for my precious son, but I was still hoping that it would happen soon and that Abdullah Timur would grow up to be a perfectly functional Sultan once he reaches maturity "How was he today? Did you manage to get a word out of him yet? Has he made his first steps?"
"Why don't you show her? Come on, you can do it Abdullah, just liked you said earlier." I smiled as Xanthippi let Abdullah Timur see me, I saw the one year old begin to smile and I saw him recognize me, I braced myself for the wave of happiness that was inevitable, I know that Abdullah Timur has finally reached a milestone and I cannot wait to hear it.
"Mama!" I practically shrieked in joy when Abdullah Timur said mama, he knew me now and he has spoken his first word, the nursemaids may have witnessed it first, but this is a moment that I will cherish for the rest of my life.
"Perfect...just perfect." I smiled, wiping tears from my eyes, I was grateful that this happened if nothing else but I wanted to know if there was anything else so once again I addressed Xanthippi "Can he walk yet?"
"Let's see." Xanthippi said as she gently lowered Abdullah to the ground, setting up the young Sultan on the ground and holding him from beneath the arms, gentling leading him forward as Abdullah Timur's instincts began to kick in and he began to move his shaky feet. I inhaled sharply - this could be it! I watched as Xanthippi slowly began to pull away, at first, it seemed like my son was going to make it, he was going to walk over to me alone, but then he noticed that Xanthippi had let go of him and he tried to turn around, only to lose balance and fall over onto the carpet below us, beginning to cry. I scooped up my son and pulled him to my chest, trying to calm him down, I gave a smile and turned to Xanthippi.
"He'll learn soon enough, but this...this was a good start." I told the nursemaid as I assumed the role of Abdullah Timur's mother, calming him down and letting him drink from my breast, I would experience child rearing, even if it wasn't full time.
Alright guys, I surprised myself when I managed to get chapter one and two done in time for uploading them both. I'm glad because I got to introduce both The Tsarina and The Sultana, but from now on chapters will be uploaded every other week, with chapter three and probably four being Anastasia chapters. On off-weeks I post chapters of The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles over on fictionpress - check it out!