Chapter 4: True Start of Downfall
Mother, Mustafa, and I were walking along a stone path carved into the breathtaking gardens. Even I—someone who had seen countless images of billionaires' mansions in the modern world—found it difficult to tear my eyes away from the stunning architecture. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. In the modern world, architects favored simplicity: clean lines and minimalist structures. But here… here, it felt like the very life of the architect was on the line with every curve, every flourish. Every arch and every stone whispered stories of a world far removed from my past life.
"Mother, this place is so big! Is this my palace?" Mustafa asked, clutching her hand—and mine. My little brother truly was too adorable. His round face and innocent eyes made me want to pinch his soft cheeks and stretch them just a little. But I held back. As his elder brother, I had to maintain an image: someone kind yet firm, someone who would not waver no matter where the winds blew.
"Yes, son. This is your palace. Our palace," Mother replied with a warm, gentle tone.
I couldn't help but shake my head slightly. Just listen to her—what a way with words. It was no wonder she was still favored.
"I'll get lost in here! How will I find you?" Mustafa asked with a hint of worry, glancing up at her.
Mother stopped walking, knelt down, and cupped his cheeks with both hands. Her smile was warm and comforting. "Don't be afraid. You'll always find me."
I, however, was beginning to grow anxious. We would soon be meeting our grandmother—the Valide Sultan. I had a strange feeling that a choice prompt might pop up at any moment. Let's just hope I didn't lose any favorability points with her the moment we met.
"Wait, Mustafa! Don't run—you might get hurt!" I called out as he suddenly broke free of Mother's hand and ran forward on his tiny feet. I followed, not to stop him, but to stay close. I was a year older, so catching up wasn't difficult. Still, even though I knew nothing serious would happen, an uneasiness settled in my chest whenever he was out of my sight.
Inside the Valide Sultan's Chambers
Mother and I stood close together while Mustafa was already in our grandmother's lap, receiving kisses and affection. I kept my gaze lowered—there were still many women present, some of whom were not family. Aside from Grandmother and my father's sister, Hatice Sultan, the rest were strangers. Though I was still a child in body, my mind belonged to an adult. Even if Allah forgave me for neglecting such principles, how could I allow my gaze to wander to women unrelated to me?
I had only been studying royal etiquette for a week, but it had been enough to teach me how to carry myself with grace and dignity before nobility.
"Oh, how I've missed you, Mustafa—my grandson, the apple of my eye!" Grandmother cooed, showering him with kisses and holding him tightly.
Hatice Sultan, my father's sister, looked at me with a warm expression. "Orhan, are you feeling unwell after such a long journey?"
"Hala Sultan, I am alright," I replied politely. "It's just that this was my first time traveling so far. Now that I'm in a new place, I feel a little dazed."
Author's Note:"Hala Sultan" combines the familial term "hala" (father's sister) with the imperial title "Sultan," reflecting both respect and closeness.
Hatice Hala smiled gently and adjusted the collar of my robe, the way only a loving aunt would. I didn't resist. I simply allowed her to do as she pleased. Adults were like that, and young ladies especially seemed to adore children. Since Mustafa and I were her brother's sons, she naturally felt more attached to us.
Still, I remained cautious. I had to walk a fine line between displaying warmth and maintaining etiquette. After all, I was the son of the Sultan's concubine. If Mother had been the legal wife of the Sultan, I might've acted more openly. But as things stood, kindness could turn to coldness in a heartbeat. Everything hinged on Father's favor toward her.
"I told you to take me to see my father!" Mustafa suddenly declared to Hatice Sultan, puffing out his tiny chest with all the seriousness of a prince.
The room's atmosphere turned cold in an instant. Mother still wore a smile, but it was clearly strained. Maybe she believed her position as the favored consort was secure. Perhaps too much so.
The Valide Sultan's smile stiffened, her eyes darkening slightly.
"So young, and already giving orders?" she asked, her tone soft, yet sharp like the edge of a blade. "What are mothers teaching their sons these days?"
Mother's face froze. She stood caught between the need to protect her son and the need to remain respectful before the powerful matriarch.
[Choose One of the Following Options]
Option 1: Take your Mother's Side — Reward: +10 Attribute
Option 2: Take your Brother's Side — Reward: +20 Attribute
Option 3: Stay Silent — Reward: +1 Attribute
I did not interfere. I remained silent, my head bowed.
[+1 Temptation Resistance]
There was truth in the old saying: roses come with thorns. Most beauties and temptations sent my way would likely be veiled traps. True loyalty and love would be rare.
Moments like these reminded me of the value of my Temptation Resistance trait.
My only complaint?
Why didn't my system have a status window?
If it did, I could properly check my attributes and plan ahead. But for now… I was just getting started.
Nothing significant happened after the meeting with Grandmother, but one thing stood out: Hurrem Sultan had arrived at the palace.
Mother, who had believed she would be summoned to the Sultan's chambers that night—especially after so much time apart—was devastated to learn that Father had instead called a new slave to his chamber.
She sent Mustafa and me to our rooms and rushed toward the Sultan's quarters herself, desperate to reach him before that slave did.
Whether or not she succeeded… I couldn't say. This moment took place at the very beginning of the story. But one thing I was sure of—this marked the start of Mother's decline.
The next morning, I woke to find Mother had, at some point in the night, returned. She was now lying beside me and Mustafa, her arms wrapped around us. Tear stains marked her beautiful face.
With my small hands, I gently tapped her forehead, trying to comfort her in my own clumsy way. From what I knew, the future for us—Mother and sons—would be filled with loneliness after Grandmother's death. The Valide Sultan was the only one who had ever shown any kindness to Mother.
She had also been the reason Mother got away with so many of her silent transgressions against Hurrem Sultan, my future second mother.
"My Orhan, you're awake," Mother said softly, carefully raising her body so as not to disturb Mustafa.
The maids, likely stationed outside our door, must have heard our voices. They entered after knocking. Mother didn't scold them; she had likely told them to come in if we stirred.
They busied themselves preparing bath water and fresh clothes. Still, I couldn't get used to this lifestyle. Everything felt too extravagant.
Mustafa soon woke up. Unlike me, he was a spoiled brat. Mother had to forcibly hold him in place and wash his face while he squirmed and complained. But that was just how children were. I was the strange one who didn't act like one.
[Choose One of the Following Options]
Option 1: Don't Listen to Your Mother — Reward: One Random Skill
Option 2: Ignore Your Brother — Reward: +50 on All Previously Obtained Stats
Option 3: Go After Your Brother — Reward: +1 Attribute
Just as we were getting ready to go study, Mustafa began throwing a tantrum.
"I don't want to study! I want to see Father!" he shouted, tears forming in his eyes.
As he began running toward the door, a familiar choice prompt appeared before me.
'Is it only one choice per day?' I wondered. It certainly seemed that way. Yesterday, I had only seen one prompt as well.
Option 1? Absolutely not. I could never go against my mother. In Islam, the status of a mother is second only to Allah. Obedience to one's parents, especially one's mother, is a virtue deeply rooted in our faith.
Option 2? Also unthinkable. I wasn't raised to abandon my siblings. Even in the modern world, I always acted as a shadow to those I loved, protecting them from harm—sometimes at my own expense. Allah was always watching.
That left Option 3. My only real choice.
"I'm going to meet Father!" Mustafa shouted again, breaking free from Mother's grasp and dodging past the startled maids.
[+1 Intelligence]
Mother didn't even need to say anything. I was already on my feet, chasing after him.
His little legs couldn't carry him far. I quickly caught up, scooping him into my arms.
Other than Father himself, I was the only one allowed to treat Mustafa so familiarly—because I was his elder brother. Because I was the firstborn son of Sultan Suleiman.
That title could not be changed—whether Father liked it or not.
And perhaps… I would also be the first of his sons to die by his hand.
Not that I minded.
If that was the price of escaping this dream and returning to reality—or to Allah—then it might not be such a bad exchange.
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