บท 42: Chapter 40: A Promise to Return
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The magnificent gates of Topkapı Palace were bustling with activity. A convoy, ready for the Sultan's departure, stood poised in the shadow of walls adorned with golden embroidery and blue tiles. Osman approached his horse after receiving the final briefing from Grand Vizier Hasan Pasha. Shields glinted in the sunlight, and dust rose from the hooves of the waiting horses. At the palace threshold, a figure caught Osman's attention: his mother, Mahfiruz Sultan, stood with his siblings, looking at him with worried eyes.
Mahfiruz Sultan, dressed in an elegant dark green robe embroidered with golden threads and a pearl-adorned veil, was a picture of regal grace. Yet, worry and fatigue were etched on her face. Osman's siblings stood quietly behind their mother; Mehmet, the eldest of them, looked at Osman with eyes filled with determination and admiration.
Osman approached his family, his gaze resolute—a reflection of the responsibilities he bore despite his young age. Smiling slightly, he said:
"Don't worry so much. This will be an easy campaign. I'm not going to war with a country; I'm only heading to suppress a few timar holders who have lost their loyalty."
Mahfiruz Sultan, unconvinced by Osman's words, furrowed her delicate brows and responded in a firm yet anxious tone:
"But you don't have to go. If it's truly an easy campaign, your presence isn't necessary."
Osman replied to his mother's words with determination. His tone was calm but authoritative:
"I am a Sultan, mother. This is my responsibility. I must see things with my own eyes and make decisions with my own will. Only then can I do justice to this throne."
At that moment, his younger brother Mehmet stepped forward. Dressed in a simple but clean robe, his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm far beyond his years. "My Sultan, why aren't you taking me with you? I want to fight alongside you!" he said.
Osman sighed lightly and turned to his brother. "You're still too young, Mehmet. You're not ready yet," he said.
"But there's only about a year and a half between us!" Mehmet protested.
Osman's tone grew firmer: "If I say you're not ready, you're not. You need to complete your training. Besides, I have other plans for you. You'll see soon enough."
As Osman took a few steps away from his mother and siblings, another figure standing on the palace's stone floor caught his eye. Mehri Banu Hatun, with her slender and graceful posture, stood a little further away, watching him with concern. She wore a simple yet elegant outfit; white fabric adorned with soft blue patterns lent a serene air to her appearance. However, her reddened eyes and pale complexion betrayed her exhaustion. The dark circles under her eyes hinted at sleepless nights.
Osman approached Mehri Banu and gestured for his guards and her attendants to step aside. Mehri Banu looked at him with a timid yet worried expression. Left alone in the palace, she had relied on the servants for information, which often exaggerated or distorted the truth. Osman felt a pang of regret as he realized he hadn't explained the situation to her.
Mehri Banu's silent yet weary presence tugged at Osman's heart. Drawing closer, he spoke in a gentle yet serious tone:
"I'm sorry, Mehri Banu. I owe you an explanation. Don't worry—this is only a campaign to suppress rebels. They have no support or real strength. There's nothing to fear. I'll return soon."
Mehri Banu looked at Osman, unable to hide the worry in her eyes. "But what if you don't return? I don't want to be left alone in the palace," she said, her voice trembling.
Osman lightly touched her shoulder. "I promise you. When I return, everything will be better than before. I also have a surprise for you, but you'll have to wait a little longer to see it," he said.
Though Mehri Banu felt somewhat reassured by Osman's words, unease still lingered in her heart. Osman gave her one last look and a faint smile before turning toward his horse. The sound of hooves echoed off the palace's stone walls as the convoy began to move. Mehri Banu watched Osman until the convoy disappeared from sight, her eyes still a mixture of hope and worry.
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