Intermezzo

18th of September 1566, Istanbul

The sun rose over the capital and for a moment she wondered how it was that the world suddenly seemed to be able to go on anyway, even when its ruler had suddenly stopped upholding the law of Allah and protecting his people.

Mihrimah had begged him, pleaded with him with every word she had been able to muster, but not even her beloved mother's memory had been enough to stop him from leading the campaign; and Allah had taken him in glory to his heavens leaving his earthly domains in chaos.

His death had happened days before, but the news had reached the capital only that morning, or was it supposed to be yesterday already, she wondered?

Her father, the ruler of the seven continents, the owner of the throne of the ottomans, the Lawgiver had passed away from home and from all those left to this world who loved him unconditionally.

Baba , she had prayed to him, she hadn't called him father since she had become old enough to understand that he wasn't only her father but most importantly the Hunkar of the ottoman empire. And now... now he was gone and with him any stability they could hope to achieve.

No one had dared say anything when Mihrimah had occupied the chambers of the sultan the previous afternoon, her eyes filled with tears and heart grief-stricken. She had let herself grieve and mourn; she had even laid on the bed, where she had spent several nights with her father when she had been a child and needed comforting.

His scent didn't linger anymore, and it broke her heart that for however clearly she could recall it in her mind, she couldn't seem to find it anyway and she could never again. She'd never feel the warmth of her father's hands on her forehead and the soft press of his kiss against her forehead.

Her father was dead, and with him along went peace. His harem was in a state of disarray for the mourning of the Hunkar as it was right, but that was not what worried Mihrimah. Thankfully her father had been away from the capital long enough that, if ever had slept with other concubines they would already know if one was carrying a child.

That was one problem less.

Still to her father four sons remained, and they all had the same right to the ottoman throne.

It had been her mother's great preoccupation and regret that her sons would, one day, fight against each other, kill each other in the name of the throne.

Even if there weren't already beefs and misunderstandings between them, the viziers , the pashas and even the aghas would tear them apart, bone by bone, limb by limb until they fought each other like lions and only one ended up on top, and Mihrimah would have to see it all unfold before her eyes, powerless — for all her power — to stop it.

The world demanded it. The law enforced it.

A sultan may kill his own brothers and nephews to uphold the peace.

Mihrimah had failed the tasks her mother had set for her.

She had entrusted her, her precious sons and her husband. It was by miracle of the Padisha 's love for her that her brothers still breathed;

And now... now Mihrimah had to fight against the law itself to attempt to ensure her family didn't get destroyed by power.

The first ray of the dawn kissed her cheeks, like a father's caress, just like the moonlight had wrapped around her during her long night of mourning like a mother's embrace.

I am Mihrimah Sultan, she steeled herself, collecting her veil and crown from the feet of the bed, Hurrem Sultan's daughter and Sultan Suleyman Khan's, and donning it on, I am the sultan of the sun and the moon as my father, the Padisha, has deemed. Everything will be as I will it .

" 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.

" Sultanim... "

"If the Sehzades will swear allegiance," she stated, "I am sure Mehmed as Hunkar will spare them, even give them prestigious places in his council or provinces to govern in his name and campaigns to lead in their own name"

"And if they should desire the throne and make a move for it, Sultanim ?"

"Mehmed will do what is necessary," Mihrimah said, "as will my brothers and if I need to whack them behind the head for it to happen then so Allah grant me strength, I will "

Though what really worried her were the women behind her brothers, Afife Nurbanu, for example, surely must have her sights set to the ottoman throne, she had made no mystery to her Valide that she would ensure that eras changed and that her time to be Valide Sultan came.

Sümbul observed her long and hard and Mihrimah blinked, "What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he said, "you just reminded me of your Valide the haseki sultan, may Allah always keep her at his side in heaven"

" Amen ," Mihrimah echoed, "and now," she said, "ready my carriage, I need to go to my husband"

"As you command, Sultanim "

Her husband had followed Mehmed in his province, but had returned in later years when his Majesty, her father had called him back to the capital. He had distinguished himself by Mehmed' side, and her father the Sultan had chosen to reward him with a place in his council. Mihrimah knew that her father respected her husband much, and that her mother had often advised him to make him a part of his council, but he had been rue to separate him from Mehmed, as the two had formed a bond which hinged on brotherhood as much as on respect and skills.

Mihrimah had even followed him, for a time, away from the capital, but then duty had called her back to the Topaki palace when her mother had died and her father the Sultan had needed her more than ever.

Now, her husband was overseeing the construction of her mosque in the city whilst Mihrimah governed the capital as her father's eyes and mouth in his stead. He had not been with her when she had received the news and truly she doubted he had yet received it, but she needed his strength now more than ever.

Sümbul helped her on the carriage and then followed her inside, commanding the coachman to take them to the worksite of her mosque. They had already built a mosque in the city, which had been completed three years prior, and it was known as her husband's mosque, now he wanted her to have her own mosque thus he had gifted to her the project, made by the same architect, for her mosque on the day their youngest had been born.

The city bustled with the same energy as before, as the news had not yet been revealed to the masses, and Mihrimah wondered how they did it , how they managed to go on, ignoring that their Sultan had died.

The worksite was as chaotic as always, Sümbul left the carriage first to announce her, so that the workers may know she was coming.

"Attention!," he called "her imperial highness, Mihrimah Sultan !" twisting around to help her down the carriage, the wind was cold and humid against her face, half covered by the veil as she stepped down the carriage.

She did not even take a couple of steps before her husband came barrelling out of the worksite, with the architect in town.

" Aşkım ," he greeted her, approaching them and stepping close enough to press a kiss atop her brow "have you come to see the improvement on the structure..?" Mihrimah closed her eyes, letting his warmth engulf her and his presence sooth her grieving soul. When he stepped back from her, and looked into her eyes, his expression became stormy.

"What it is?" he demanded, "are the children..."

"The children are fine," she said, "they are being moved to the Topaki palace as we speak,"

Her husband frowned, "I thought you said you wanted them to stay away from the Topaki palace if your father was not.."

She felt the sob almost rip at her throat at the mention of her father. Her husband studied her for a moment, then he wrapped his arm around her, "Come, Aşkım " he murmured, his questioning glance turning to Sümbul and dismissing the architect whilst he moved them to a nearby building they were using as base whilst they constructed the mosque.

As soon as they were inside he guided her to the divanet as tears started once again to stream down her cheeks and he turned to Sümbul "Explain, now "

" Pasha... " Sümbul murmured, "the news is dire and the circumstances terrible..."

"My baba..." she felt her voice creak and break in a sob, "my baba has died," she worked through the sobs that were tearing at her throat and choking her.

She saw the moment his mind understood how much she must be grieving now. Mihrimah had been her father' favorite child, as much as Mehmed had been his favorite son, and Mihrimah loved him unconditionally.

In a second he was sitting next to her and her head was nestled under his chin, his broad chest welcoming her in an embrace that felt like home and belonging and truth .

"I am so sorry, Sevgilim ," he murmured in a whisper, "I am sorry,"

Her father had always been larger than life, and now that he was gone the world seemed to weigh much more and have become narrower.

She remembered how her father used to describe life once her mother had been gone. There were lights, and songs and colors. There are no colors anymore.

Now she felt like the world had become less bright, and much more fragile.

She felt fragile.

But not even her husband could tell her that everything would be alright because a sultana knows one thing since she's a babe, that when her father dies she has to cry and mourn not only her father but all the brothers that she'll loose in the fratricide war that will ensue for the throne.

"I love you," he murmured against her hair, "I love you"

The shivers that shocked her body then were only for grief. But she couldn't afford to be weak, this small, brief lapse in time was all the weakness she could afford.

I think I need to remind you who I am, I am Mihrimah Sultan, Sultan Suleyman Khan' daughter, not only this palace, I'll send you from the capital, who will stop me?

She strengthened her soul, as her husband soft whispered lulled her back to reality. She straightened and dried her tears with the palm of her hand. Her husband gently caught the lone tears that still escaped her eye with a thumb.

"What will we do now?"

And that, that meant more than Mihrimah could say.

Her husband had always been Mehmed's stauncher supporter, and the fact that he would ask her before he acted meant that she held as much authority in his heart as her favored brother did.

"Now," she said "the dawn of Sultan Mehmed Khan will rise," she stated, "and the world will cry the Lawgiver until there are no more tears left"

Her husband nodded, "And what of your other brothers?"

Mihrimah collected her hands on her lap and took a long, steeling breath, exhaling slowly; "I have called them all to the capital," she said softly, almost inaudible.

A beat of silence.

"Do you think that is wise? They all will think you mean to support them," he pointed out "and we both know that your might will always go with Mehmed"

Mihrimah exhaled loudly. I know .