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Sinadim from Game Of Sultans is an absolute fave! -art by me

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Game of Sultans - Teri (FIC)

The old Sultan, high in his Imperial Palace, surrounded by viziers, servants, and loyal kin, lay dying. A mysterious illness had struck him after a grand feast he held, inviting many nobles to join his family. Years before his most loyal wife had passed away giving birth to his sole heir, a dashing young prince, who stood steadfast by his father, learning all he could, knowing one day he would rule his father’s kingdom. And now, as the old man ailed, wasting away, the disease robbing him of his strength and health more and more each day, the prince vowed to uphold the standards his father had set, and his grandfather before. To protect the people, to keep the kingdom strong, and to repel the enemies of the throne. The news was announced across the kingdom, one day, the Sultan had succumb to his illness and died. Flags of mourning were raised, wailing was heard in the streets, and all bowed their heads in respect. Then the young prince rose to power. He assumed his father’s throne, and began his reign. Benevolent, but firm, he protected his people, and the lands prospered. The people within the kingdom were happy and thriving. Life was good, no one entertained the thought that trouble loomed upon the horizon.

In the palace, Sultan Rahmi, and his viziers were shocked to receive a threat against the kingdom. Who was this Alexander? Hocas, the eldest of the viziers cleared his throat. “Sire… perhaps it is time to think of the future of the kingdom as well.” He had served Rahmi’s grandfather, Taner, who had been slain in battle. Thankfully Taner had three sons who had survived to adulthood, and though none were living now. The empire had been secure.

Rahmi looked up from the parchment before him and lofted his dark brows. “The future? What do you mean, Hocas?”

“What I mean, Sultan, is that you have no heirs. I know you have your wives, but as of yet, neither have given you a child.” Hocas spoke frankly, no fault in his tone. “It may be smart to broaden your horizons, there are many eligible maidens in the kingdom.”

With a sigh, Rahmi sat back. He did have Canfeza, the graceful dancer who had enchanted him a few years ago, and then there was the ever passionate Cecilia, who made his heart beat deeply whenever they were together. And the sweet and curious Alessa had caught his eye of late. Perhaps it was time to expand his interests. “I see. I cannot force anything upon my women, of course, but… you may have a point.” “Of course, sire, of course.” Hocas nodded and they spoke again of soldiers and armies and battle tactics with his other viziers.

Days passed, and he had approached Alessa more often, until he was certain she too felt for him as he did for her. When he proposed she was ecstatic and soon they were happily married. Like his two wives before, she fit into palace life quite well, and was fast friends with the others in his harem. Though Canfeza did sneeze a lot, once Alessa moved her cat, Fluffy, into the palace.

Within two years, he was the proud father of two little girls. His beautiful princesses were his world. The threats of the crazed Alexander seemed distant, nearly forgotten. His days were full of managing the minutiae of the kingdom, and doting on his darling daughters, and his beautiful wives. Perhaps it was silly to some, but he did so enjoy spoiling them, showering them with whatever they desired and lavishing his attentions on them.

But still, no male heir came. Hocas kept this notion in his mind, subtle reminders, a gentle urging to produce a prince to take the throne when his time was over. Thinking about this, he brooded in the imperial gardens, until something caught his attention. He could feel eyes upon him and his hand went to the decorated sword at his hip, and he looked up to find himself staring into deep and dark eyes. They stunned him, robbing him of his breath. It took a moment for him to recover his wits. “Ah, m’lady, I do apologize if I have disturbed you with my presence.” He rose from the bench he had been resting on.

With a demure gesture, she glanced down, her gauzy wrap over her face obscuring most of her features, and the scarf draped lightly over her hair covered her even more. “Nonsense, Majesty, how could you possibly be a bother to me?” “Ah, then you know who I am.” Rahmi smirked faintly, amused by her already. “I am at a disadvantage then. Might I ask your name, maiden?” With a bow, she nodded, “Teri. I am an apprentice of Lady Cansu.” She lifted her gaze again, albeit briefly, to gauge his features and his mood.

Rahmi thought for a moment, the name was familiar to him. It took a few seconds before he placed it. “Ah, Vizier Ayas’ wife! I see, so then you study the healing arts of the hands? Perhaps this is fate, I do have such a headache today!” He grinned, almost boyishly when he spoke, toying with her lightly.

The woman smiled behind her scarf, gauzy as it was, her brilliant and bright smile was visible through it. “For you, Majesty, anything.”

With a chuckle, he stepped across the path to her, “Perhaps another time, good lady.” He inclined his head politely, and studied her form as she bowed in response. “I hope to see you again.”

“And I you, Sire.” Teri answered honestly. She watched as he left, her gaze following his figure. “Most certainly, I will be sure that we do meet again…” Her full lips curved into a smile, though there was nothing bright about it, instead it was cold, dark even, with a determined set to her beautifully angled jaw. “Most certainly…”

A week or more passed before it happened, but they did encounter one another again, in the same place even. Rahmi was walking, worried and unsettled, through the garden to relieve his mood, when he came upon Teri, sitting on the bench he had been on before, reading a book. He paused just out of sight, watching her for a moment through the branches of a blooming tree. Reaching up he gently plucked a single beautiful blossom and brought it to her. “Ah, the elusive Lady Teri.” Looking up sharply, startled, Teri’s eyes widened a moment. “Sire! I am no Lady, just a simple maiden!”

“You could be so much more, if you wished it.” He answered her, “I haven’t gotten you out of my thoughts since we first met.” He dropped to his knee before her and placed the blossom on her book. “Come, be with me in the Palace!”

“Sire!” A flush had spread across her cheeks and the woman stammered, “I-I d-don’t know…”

Rahmi winced, “I am too forward, I apologize. I will leave you to think about it then, shall I?” Taking her hand, he placed it on the blossom resting on the pages of the book, a romance novel he took note of that little detail, and stood once again, sweeping his broad, fur lined, cape back. Standing tall, he did strike an impressive figure. “I will come back, tomorrow, to this spot, at this time. Meet me here with your answer.” Strong and angular though his features were, they softened when he smiled to her then. “Please be here.” And he was walking away from her.

Teri stared after him, shocked. That had gone so much easier than she had anticipated. Now to just play the part. “S-Sultan!” She called after him, rising quickly, her novel toppling from her lap as she grasped only the blossom. “You don’t have to come back! I can answer you now!” Running after him, she caught up to him, bosom heaving, as she smiled, “I could be no happier to be with you!”

Turning to her with a broad smile, Rahmi reached out and drew her into his arms. “Then I must insist upon one thing, my dear.” “Oh?” She asked in a soft dazed voice. “Call me Rahmi.” And thus was it that Teri joined the Sultan’s harem, becoming one of his darling wives. All the time, he had no idea that she was not the sweet woman he expected her to be.

In her own room, behind a locked door, the lovely Teri practiced with deadly precision, with her knives, hidden in decorative nonsense about her living quarters. And she played the part of the dutiful loving wife, waiting for word from her contact, waiting to strike…

However, no word came. The Ottoman army fought against all threats, wiping out one enemy after another. Teri, who did not know who had hired her, with no information besides what to expect from her contact, waited for orders she did not know would come or not. It came as an unexpected shock to her when the royal physician told her that she was with child. That was not at all in her plans. But there she was, her hands resting on her soon swelling belly. Beside her lay Rahmi, sound asleep, having spent his night with her, proud of his wife, who would soon be a mother. She almost swore she could feel the child moving. Turning to look at the father of her child, she felt her heart tearing in two. This was never supposed to happen. She was not supposed to love him… she was not supposed to have a family with him. From the other side of the bed, her hand dropped to the stand beside her, fingers brushing over the ornate handle of the lamp, which would pull out into a blade. She could sink it into his throat, completing her mission, before the orders came…. couldn’t she?

She was certain she felt movement then, and she gasped. Before she knew he was awake, she felt the strong hand of her husband on her stomach, tender and protecting. He was only half awake, and he drew her closer to him, nuzzling his bearded face against her neck. It tickled and she twitched away from it before she could help herself.

“I’m sorry, little dove, I will shave in the morning…” he muttered to her.

Little Dove. His sweet nickname for her. She wished she didn’t love the sound of it.

“No, don’t. It just surprised me. Alessa and I both like you with a beard,” Teri turned to drape her arm around him, empty hand resting against his back, as the ornate hilt cooled from her touch.

Months later, a heavily bearded Sultan stroked his tired wife’s hair as she recovered in her bed, holding her little baby in her arms. “A son, my little dove, I am so proud!”

Teri gazed into the tiny face of her child, their child, smiling in awed dismay. Nine months of carrying him had not prepared her for the sheer rapture of seeing him in her arms. He had nursed, and was sleeping happily and peacefully in her gentle and loving embrace, blissfully unaware of the strong hand stroking the little bit of dark fuzz on his head. “What…. What shall we call him?”

“Dursun.” Rahmi answered immediately.

Looking up at him in surprise, Teri’s eyes watered before she could help it. “My father…?” “Yes, I know you miss him terribly, and the way you speak of him, he loved you dearly. I’m sure he would love our son just as much.” The Sultan smiled, smoothing her sweat damp hair back. “Rest, little dove. You both have had a hard day, spend your day with him, and I will tell the kingdom of your good works.” Bending, he kissed them both before leaving her to recover with the child. He had learned with his first daughter that it worked best to let the mother and child bond and have time together. Besides, the girls were eager to meet their little brother, he could hear the excited whispers at the door.

As the midwife and her aids left, with only a quiet maid in the corner of the room to fetch anything she could need, Teri watched the face of her little son.

“To hell with them,” She muttered under her breath and snuggled him closer. She was the wife of a powerful Sultan. “Demet,” Teri addressed the maid, “Take those papers by the basin and start a fire, it’s too cold in here.” “Yes, M’Lady!” The maid bowed and hurried to do so.

And as the orders to assassinate the Sultan went up in flame, Teri sighed, content and happy.

Orders be damned.

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