|Münevver Victoria's POV|

Mustafa and I were standing in a small, additional room, one he had dedicated over the years solely for his important work and plans...No one else was allowed inside except for him, me, and his trusted minister, Suleiman.

The room remained locked most of the time, but we spent a lot of time here whenever Mustafa was preparing for a campaign or something similar.

Mustafa stood beside me, his hands resting on the table in front of us, his gaze fixed intently on the large map... His eyes moved over it with anticipation, and I could tell that a flurry of thoughts was racing through his mind.

"We’ll start by pretending to attack their northern border" I finally voiced my thoughts while focusing on the map "Let them think we’re pushing from the mountains"

He nodded slowly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of the table as he considered my words.

"They’ll move their soldiers there to stop us... They’ll think they’ve blocked our path" He replied calmly while moving some small military figurines.

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips... he always knew the game, understanding every move perfectly.

"That’s when we make our real move" I continued, my eyes narrowing as I saw the path unfolding in my mind "We’ll send our best troops through the valley, hidden from sight... They won’t know we’re coming"

Even though I knew I wouldn’t be with them, I always spoke of the plans as if we were a group... there was something about it that stirred my excitement, as I eagerly imagined the plan coming to life.

"And while they focus on the mountains, we cut off their supplies from the south" his hand slid over the map "They won’t have enough men or food to keep fighting"

The pieces were falling into place, but there was one final stroke to complete the picture. I leaned back slightly, tapping my fingers against the table as I glanced up at him.

"Then, when their king feels safe, thinking the mountains are under control, we’ll send our cavalry behind them, right to their heart" I said with a calm tone,this time looking at him and he was already visualizing it, I could tell.

"By the time they realize they’re surrounded, it will be too late" he replied, his voice quieter now "Their king will have nowhere to go"

And with that there was no doubt in my mind... victory would be ours.

I lifted my eyes to Mustafa, who was still looking at the map as if he were imagining moments of victory, while I was gazing at him, and something was running through my mind ... the fact that today was his birthday. His fortieth, to be precise.

Forty years old... It didn’t seem possible... To me, he was still the same man I had married all those years ago.. full of drive, passion, and that same boyish grin that still had the power to make my heart skip... But he had grown, matured, and in many ways, became more of the man I had always hoped he would be.

"You know, you’re getting old, Mustafa," I teased, watching him carefully as he moved small figurines on the map with deliberate precision "Forty is practically ancient"

He looked at me then, the corners of his lips twitching with that familiar smile that made smile every time.

"And you still look like you did when we first met" he said, his voice smooth, like he was telling the truth "It's almost unfair"

"I don't know if you’re complimenting me or just making fun of me" I crossed my arms, pretending to be annoyed.

"No" he said, walking toward me with a playful gleam in his eyes "I'm simply stating the obvious" he placed his hands on the table on either side, which trapped me between them "Well, since it's my birthday, what will I get today?"

"Well" I raised my eyebrow with a smile "The gift is me, I'm the best thing you can get"

His expression softened, his hands gently brushing my hair back "You know what they say... Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes" he smiled "I mean a great woman"

"Today is very special" I said with a smile as I placed my hands on his chest "I’m grateful for all the years I’ve spent with you, and I’m so happy about it"

"And I can’t imagine a world where I’m not with you, even at forty" He lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret with me "Actually, you’re the best thing about getting older.. Makes me want to keep aging"

"Good, because I plan on making you wait another forty years" I said with a warm smile.

"Deal" he replied, pulling me close and holding me tight, his arms wrapped around me like they always had been, like they always would be.

In that moment, we heard a knock at the door, and I immediately realized it was Suleiman Pasha, the time he had arranged with Mustafa to come.

I quickly kissed Mustafa on the lips and pulled away, heading to start my usual daily tasks. When I opened the door, I gave Suleiman a nod and continued on my way.

I entered my room to head to my desk, planning to have a glass of milk with honey to relax a bit before beginning my work.... but as soon as the door closed behind me, my little Osman ran toward me, his tiny hands reaching up.

"Mother" he said, his eyes wide with that innocent yearning only a child could have "Why can't we read a story in the morning and another before bed?" This time, he spoke with a sweet, excited tone "Nura says it's not possible"

I smiled as I looked at him and then raised my eyes to Nura, the maid assigned to look after my little Osman... As usual, there was a look of resignation on her face.

"Alright, Osman..." I smiled and sat on the couch "She’s right, we can’t do it all day, but as usual, I’ll tell you a bedtime story tonight, and..."

Before I could finish, the door opened, and Süreyya entered, looking as if she were in a hurry.

"Mother, may I have a word?" she asked in a calm voice as she approached me, holding a book in her hand.

"Of course, Süreyya" I replied, gesturing for her to come closer "What is it?"

"I can't understand some of the Latin words in this book" she said, sitting beside me the she opened the book and began flipping through the pages rapidly "For example, here, not only did I not understand the language, but I didn’t even understand what the author was trying to convey... heere, let me show you..."

"Be quiet, I was here before you!" Osman interrupted, catching my attention again "Mommy, I want to hear the story of the lion now... I can't wait any longer..."

Before he could continue, the door opened again, and Nisa Kalfa entered, holding some papers, accompanied by my Aunt Catherine.

"Your highness, the papers you requested have arrived" she said, passing some papers in front of me "There are also some letters from Scotland for you and you need to sign this document as soon as possible so I can give it to Mehmet Pasha and..."

"Wait, Nisa Kalfa" Süreyya interrupted, opening her book again "Mother, please explain these things to me quickly first"

I looked at them all... Süreyya, eager to get some answers, Osman, who was protesting about not hearing his favorite story at that moment, and the many papers Nisa was holding... For the first time, I felt dizzy and as though I was about to scream.

"Children!" It was that voice that pulled me out of my thoughts... It was none other than my Aunt Catherine "Can't you see that your mother is tired? Come on, Süreyya, I’ll explain it to you" She reached out her hand to Osman as well "Osman, I’ll read you the story again.. Come to my room"

"Mother, are you okay?" Süreyya asked, her eyes full of concern.

"Yes, yes, go with Aunt Catherine" I said, patting their backs, then I gave my aunt a grateful look, as, as usual, she had saved me from a big argument that would have arisen.

Süreyya gave me a beautiful smile, then I watched them leave and motioned for Nisa to place all the papers on my desk and depart, which she promptly did.

A wave of exhaustion washed over me as I ran my hand through my hair, then slowly rose and made my way to my desk... I sank into the chair, facing the towering pile of papers awaiting my attention.

In truth, my eyes merely skimmed the papers before me, the words on the pages blurring as my thoughts wandered elsewhere.

My mind was consumed by my children, and a deep sense of guilt settled in my chest... I couldn’t help but feel the weight of failing to meet all their needs at once, despite my constant efforts to devote myself entirely to them.

This struggle had been one of the reasons I had chosen to have fewer children... the first reason was the traumatic, nearly fatal birth of Murad, an experience that had left scars deeper than I could ever explain.

The second was the overwhelming responsibility that came with managing so many duties.

I thought I was managing things well, balancing my duties, my children, and my husband.. But lately, I had started to feel more tired. Even though I was getting enough sleep, I always felt like I needed more because I was still feeling dizzy.

I knew I had to find a solution, for so many people and responsibilities relied on me. I could never turn away from my children's needs.