The Concubine Does Not Love the Emperor - Chapter 29

Suleiman would forever carry the memory of the day he encountered Devran.

“Hello, Prince,” she greeted him.

Her hair, as dark as obsidian, framed a face that recognized him before he uttered a word. Under a sky mirroring the color of her eyes, she kneeled in a garden adorned with unknown, vibrant flowers, kissing the hem of her dress.

“I’m Devran,” she introduced herself.

Embarrassment overcame him. “Uh, her mother said she shouldn’t talk to you,” he stammered.

“Then we can keep the fact that we met a secret,” she proposed.

Devran, an unconventional figure, defied the norms. Despite being a concubine, she harbored no love for the emperor, and her fearlessness in the face of his mother, Queen Dowager, a fellow concubine, was evident. Strangely, her concern extended to Suleiman, the son of Aldebaran, whose intentions were to end her life.

“Because children are innocent,” she asserted.

In cryptic words, she elucidated the reasons behind her kindness. It wasn’t until the birth of her son, Mustafa, that Suleiman grasped the depth of her sentiments. She contended that babies possessed intrinsic beauty and meaning, unlike himself.

“I should never have been born,” he lamented.

Devran, nursing Mustafa, questioned his perspective. “Why do you think so, Prince?”

In truth, she understood. Suleiman’s mother, with three grown sons of her own, neglected him, aware that the law of fratricide dictated the youngest son’s demise, regardless of which brother ascended the throne. He yearned for the affection he should have received from his mother and took advantage of Devran’s tender heart.

“No matter who becomes king, I will die. No, I will die before that. The moment I turn twelve and leave the harem, I will live every day in fear that I will die.”

Whenever weakness surfaced, Devran would leave Mustafa with his nanny and embrace Suleiman instead.

“Prince, everyone dies. There is no need to be afraid at all.”

Even the gift of virginity, if that was what she bestowed, tasted so sweet that it stirred a mixture of fury and joy.

Devran became Suleiman’s educator, a role his own mother neglected. Until he turned twelve and left the harem, he learned language, politics, hunting, and weapon usage alongside Mustafa.

Mustafa, Devran’s son, displayed exceptional intelligence. Though moments of jealousy crept in, the affectionate boy regarded Suleiman as his “older brother” for the first time.

Upon leaving the harem, Suleiman roamed the provinces on the emperor’s orders. Upon his return three years later, Mustafa had grown, and Devran’s beauty had intensified. His mother, however, remained indifferent to his existence.

One day, Mustafa, understanding the primogeniture and fratricide laws, vowed, “If I ascend to the throne, I will spare your life. I will never kill you with my own hands.”

Suleiman chuckled at his innocence. He refrained from revealing that he and Mustafa were the lone survivors among many concubine-born children, destined to be assassinated together.

“Then I’ll protect you.”

Amidst his elder brothers’ preoccupations with each other, Mustafa’s love and intelligence set him apart. Knowing that Mustafa could have been targeted when Suleiman left the harem at twelve, he made a promise.

“I’ll protect you,” a vow exchanged for the affection received, pledging to guard him until their shared demise.

As the reigning emperor expanded the empire, Suleiman found himself in increasingly perilous situations. Assassins lurked, poisoning his food and pretending to be allies. When he returned to the capital, he discovered the deaths of his brothers, previously presumed dead.

At over twenty, and with Mustafa at twelve, Devran covertly invited Suleiman to her harem.

“His Majesty suggested that we eat together,” she mentioned.

Intuitively, Suleiman understood. On that day, all princes, except Mustafa, would meet their end. Instead of fearing death, Suleiman embraced the prospect of liberation from his burdens. Death, once a dreaded uncertainty, now seemed akin to peaceful rest.

And as he contemplated Mustafa becoming emperor, he felt content to leave the world without regrets. Devran, however, had different thoughts.

“Prince, do you remember what I said before?”

She disparaged someone, and that someone was Altar. Men were prohibited from entering the harem. Catching the cautious look in Altar’s eyes, he smiled without opening them and offered his introduction.

“I am the one promised to serve the next great emperor. Whatever your Majesty orders, I will follow it.”

Unable to suppress his curiosity, Suleiman inquired, “What did His Majesty order?”

“Nothing yet. I listen to His Majesty, the next Emperor.”

Glancing back at Mustafa, Altar squeezed Suleiman’s hand, assuring, “I have prepared a place for you to hide. Altar will guide you.”

Without hesitation, Suleiman accepted their plan. He had unwavering faith that Devran and Mustafa had orchestrated a plan to save him. Even if it were a trap, he would welcome it. He had lived a fulfilling life, surrounded by love. It has been enjoyable thus far.

The notion of dying crossed Suleiman’s mind, and he entertained the thought of Devran becoming queen and Mustafa ascending to the throne. Sincerely, he believed it would be pretty cool.

That night, they shared their last meal. Suleiman discussed the challenges he faced while touring the region, and his younger brother, who had never left the harem, proposed innovative solutions.

“Once I ascend to the throne and my position becomes stable, I will send you as the local commander-in-chief.”

“Arthur, what if a rebellion breaks out?”

It was a trivial conversation. How wonderful it would be if Mustafa became emperor and he could live by his side! If only Suleiman could have a normal marriage, raise children, and then peacefully succumb to old age. Briefly, he envisioned a life of happiness.

Suddenly, misfortune struck. Candles everywhere were extinguished, enveloping them in darkness. Mustafa, seated right beside Suleiman, became invisible. Someone stood behind him and tightened a string around his neck. Immediately, his breath deserted him.

“Ah, it’s the end!”

Suleiman closed his eyes, bracing for death. Although he had imagined this moment countless times, the reality was terrifying. Attempting to open his mouth for air proved futile. The breath he couldn’t release burned within him, and unconsciousness loomed. He screamed.

“I told you I would save your life! Why? Why now, at such a happy moment?”

He felt hideous and resentful, struggling as he believed his demise was imminent. The constricting strap around his neck suddenly loosened. He gulped in air, erupting into a violent fit of coughs. The surroundings regained brightness. When he met Abraham’s gaze, Suleiman lifted his head to see the Prime Minister looking down at him with surprise.

“I never thought you would be here. Aldebaran is looking for you.”

It was Abraham. Spotting him, Suleiman hurriedly sought out Devran. She was his mother’s target. Across from him, he observed Devran, who had already collapsed, and Mustafa, still in distress. Suleiman urgently pushed aside the inner coffin. Mustafa fell helplessly into his arms, his face red.

“We must hurry. Please leave the prince alone.”

Abraham pulled Suleiman’s arm, and the urgency of the situation heightened. Why would his mother suddenly seek to harm Devran and Mustafa?

“Let go! I will follow you, so let go!”

Fortunately, Mustafa had only fainted and was still alive. Abraham attempted to forcibly drag Suleiman away, but he swiftly pulled out a dagger from his pocket and aimed it at Abraham’s neck, precisely where the aorta passed.

“Everybody, get out! If you don’t leave, I will commit suicide,” Suleiman declared, his dagger poised.

The threat hung heavy in the air. Suicide barred the path to heaven, but a reality without Devran and Mustafa already felt like hell.

“Don’t joke around,” someone protested.

“Does it look like a joke?” Suleiman retorted.

His mother had never once visited him. The recent situation mirrored that. She sought him out, and unknowingly, Suleiman had strangled her.

“I always wondered when I would die. I was so scared that I thought I might just kill myself. Tell me, Abraham, do you really think I can’t do it?”

Abraham hesitated, considering his options. “I have to take the prince with me.”

“I’m going. Give me a moment before that. Time for me to catch my breath.”

It was a rare concession from Abraham, the first and last time he listened to Suleiman’s request. Looking back, Suleiman realized Abraham probably assumed he intended to bid farewell to Mustafa or peacefully end his life. Once everyone left the room, Suleiman summoned Altar.

As expected, Altar promptly appeared. “Move Mustafa to where I decided to go.”

“Yes. All right.”

“Is that a safe place?”

“Only Prince Mustafa knows that.”

What Altar had done for Suleiman, he reciprocated. If Mustafa was alive, it wasn’t solely because Suleiman saved him, but because Mustafa saved himself.

Altar leapt out of the window, carrying little Mustafa in his arms. The drop was from the second story. Did Devran know? Her son survived due to the path created to save Suleiman.

Suleiman hugged Devran one last time. In a harem always filled with hostility, the only person on his side had perished. He had no time to shed tears. Any delay, and Abraham would notice Mustafa’s absence.

“I will protect you,” Suleiman vowed to the son of Devran, whom he loved, and to his brother Mustafa. “I will protect you.”