Muhtesem Yuzyil Imagines ♡

SULTANA OF THE SUN & MOON (ReginaRubie)

" Aghas ," she commanded, approaching the doors, even the carved, wood panels hissed on their hinges as if crying for their sultan, and until a new sultan would take his place everything would feel empty and useless.

And in that emptiness Mihrimah would make her move.

She walked through the barely opened doors and stopped in her tracks when she saw Sümbul was still waiting patiently in the antechamber, his face ashen and tired and his eyes sourful.

"Sümbul," she murmured in a surprised breath. Her mother's most trusted and loyal servant, her own too. He straightened on his feet, despite the age his flailing around when he moved had only diminished, and not completely disappeared, yet never before had Mihrimah noticed how old he had gotten, how tired his bones must be, and how resilient and loyal he proved by standing all night on his feet outside her father's bedchamber to be on hand were she to need him.

" Sultanim, " he said, bowing his head.

Mihrimah collected her hands before herself, "Have you been out here all night long?" she asked, yet knowing the answer.

"I... I didn't want you to feel like you were alone, Sultanim "

Mihrimah at times had taken a laugh at his appearance or manners, when she had been younger and foolish. Now she felt twice as foolish and ungrateful, may Allah forgive her sins.

"I am never alone, Sümbul," she said, realizing only then how true that was, "Allah is with me always, as is my mother and now His Majesty my father," she added, he bowed his head properly chastised, "and you ," she added softly, almost inaudible but he did hear her because his gaze snapped up to met hers.

"You're always by my side too," she said.

"I am, Sultanim ," he nodded, "as long as you need me to,"

Mihrimah nodded, "Have my children be brought to Topaki Palace," she commanded, "we'll preside the capital and the ottoman throne until its rightful ruler cannot come and reclaim it" she stated.

"As you command, Sultanim ," he said, bowing. Mihrimah nodded and started to walk, deliberately slowing her pace — even though she and her brothers had once made a game of it, running so that Sümbul would have to scatter after them — so that he could keep her pace.

As they walked Sümbul listened carefully to the directives she was handing out. Laughter was banned for the period of mourning — just as she had banned it when Bayezid had been killed — and coin was to be distributed to the mosques.

In her mosque, as in all mosques of the empire, prayers and celebrations would be raised for her father as the world grieved its greatest ruler.

"How long do you think Sehzade Mehmed will take to come to the capital..?" Sümbul' voice dropped off when Mihrimah stopped in her tracks and glared, "unless you mean to support Sehzade Bayezid..."

"Silence, Sümbul," she commanded, when silence had surrounded them again she sighed, "the throne should pass to Sehzade Mehmed," she said, "he is competent, intelligent and skillful. The Hunkar wanted him to ascend after him" she added.

"—Still, " she said, "the other sons of the late Padisha... they are my brothers too"

"But the law says..."

"I know what the laws says, Sümbul, and nowhere is stated that a sultan must to kill his brothers and nephews, it is merely stated that he can do so to uphold the peace in this earthly domain"

Sümbul made a face, his grimace not so different from the one he'd made when they had been mischievous children and her mother had made his hair gray one by one with her antics.