Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 2

#2. The Stakes Are Life and Death (1)

I almost got poisoned from the start, but that didn’t mean I’d refuse breakfast.

The palace meals, both breakfast and dinner, are prepared in the kitchen palace, making enough for 20,000 people.

Since the Sultan’s food is also made here, putting poison in the food is an incredibly dangerous idea.

‘Trying to take out a minor contender to the throne and potentially killing thousands in the process is not a smart move.’

If they’re unlucky enough to get caught, it’s like burning down the whole house to catch a flea, so the chances of them stooping to playing with the food are slim.

It would be more realistic to strangle me in my sleep.

After all, Mehmed II’s second brother was strangled to death in his sleep.

‘Anyway, Mehmed II, that’s the problem with this guy.’

He may be my grandfather, but who cares? He’s as good as an enemy.

I started the meal thinking that a well-fed ghost is a happy ghost, but this was no ordinary empire.

Instead of a feast served all at once, dishes came out one by one like a course meal, and the lamb-based dishes were enough to captivate even the palates of modern people accustomed to strong seasonings.

‘Was the story about someone’s hand getting chopped off if they fed the Sultan the same food not a joke?’

Of course, there was a maid serving the food, so I couldn’t say it out loud.

After finishing a hearty meal, I left the small detached palace-style residence and arrived at a palace that was incomparably larger than where I had been.

Even though I could die tomorrow, my noble status as a prince allowed me to enter the heart of the empire, where the Sultan resided, if I so desired.

However, this was a place where even a prince’s status couldn’t grant access.

‘Because it’s every man’s fantasy and a forbidden zone: the Harem.’

Harem means the women’s quarters in Islam, and the Sultan’s Harem is officially called the Harem-i Hümayun (the Sovereign’s Harem).

Later, it would be located next to the king’s residence and considered one of the roots of the empire’s downfall, but now it existed as a separate palace.

Even though it was a forbidden place for men, young princes lived in the Harem, so Yusuf had memories of living there.

The Harem, where hundreds of women lived together, was diverse in race and age.

Some women had beautifully flowing blonde hair, while others looked like East Asians with black hair.

It was too early to be calling for globalization by hundreds of years, but it was a scene befitting an empire that served as a hub for East and West.

‘It’s a fantasy when you don’t know much about it, but up close, there are few places as ominous as this.’

The Harem isn’t a place of debauchery where naked women frolic with the Sultan, but a jungle of women trembling with intrigue and discipline.

“Women are scary, after all.”

It was just a simple murmur, but a voice responded.

“To be born of noble blood and be afraid of women, I’m afraid of who might hear that.”

The words, though scolding, contained affection, and there was only one person here who would treat me like this.

When Yusuf turned his head, a graceful woman was standing there.

Fatima Hatun; Hatun was a title given to a concubine who had slept with the Sultan.

In other words, she was his mother and the only person he could trust.

‘Not that I trust her because of mushy feelings like maternal love.’

A quick glance at a history book is enough to show how fleeting family love is under the weight of power.

Still, the reason I can trust her is that the end of a concubine who has lost in the power struggle is obvious.

Being cast out and remarried or surviving is considered lucky; they could be confined or quietly eliminated.

Therefore, a concubine in charge of raising and protecting her children shared the same fate as the prince.

“Without fear, there can be no caution, wouldn’t you agree?”

“That’s not wrong, but you must not forget that there are ears listening everywhere, anytime.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

Fatima nodded slightly and stared intently at Yusuf’s face.

“But you look better today. You even look handsome.”

‘That’s because I put 3 into Charisma.’

I put the remaining stats from Luck into Charisma, making it 6.

I also considered Intelligence, but the situation wouldn’t improve just by becoming a little smarter.

In the end, the best option was to aim for survival and variables with Luck and gather people with Charisma.

Of course, I couldn’t tell her the truth, so I replied with a sly tone.

“I have inherited looks, so I was always handsome. It’s probably because it’s being compared to my haggard appearance due to the circumcision.”

“It doesn’t seem to be just that, but you do look much better now than your usual timid self.”

“I have to change for the future.”

“That’s right.”

Competing for succession with brothers who are old enough to be my father is, to put it coldly, like throwing eggs at a rock, and I have a limited lifespan, sharing the same fate as my father, the Sultan.

In a ruthless family where they strangle even newborn babies if they are brothers, there’s no way I wouldn’t know my situation.

Thanks to that, Yusuf in my memories had a weak personality.

I don’t know why I came into this game or how to get back, but I, who have no intention of meekly offering my neck, couldn’t help but have a big difference in personality.

It’s probably because she’s my mother that she immediately noticed this difference, but she was pleased and didn’t seem to suspect anything.

“But if there’s anything good for your appearance, you mustn’t hide it from your mother. Receiving the Sultan’s favor is the most important thing for us mother and son.”

“If I find out, I’ll let you know first thing.”

So please, put away your suspicious eyes.

It wasn’t an era where mirrors were well-developed, so I didn’t know how much I had changed, and I had to sweat to endure the interrogation.

Fatima took Yusuf, who had endured the time of questioning, to a small building nearby.

It wasn’t just a simple meeting between mother and son, but a strictly scheduled event.

“Then today, let’s study tax law.”

Studying, and tax law at that, made me groan involuntarily, but unfortunately, it was unavoidable.

Just like having to receive compulsory education if you are born in Korea, there was something that had to be done without exception if you were born as an Ottoman prince.

“You will have to work as a Sanjak-bey [Ottoman district governor] someday, so you need to know the basics of tax law.”

That’s what a Sanjak-bey is.

Sanjak means Ottoman administrative district, and Bey means lord or local governor.

Translated into Korean, it’s a position similar to a local governor, and all princes who reach a certain age had to work as Sanjak-beys to prove whether they were fit to become Sultan.

This method of proof is very Ottoman.

Because it’s a way to seize the Sultan’s throne by waging a civil war.

‘I guess brothers will be sizing up each other’s necks when they meet.’

It wasn’t wrong since the Sanjak-beys would be meeting again to cut off each other’s heads.

Even in modern times, brothers who grew up together sue and even kill each other over tens of millions of won, so what’s the big deal about killing a brother they’ve never met since they came to their senses?

Of course, I was upset that I was the expected candidate to die first in this wealth fight.

I had to learn if I didn’t want to die, so I suddenly felt like studying.

“Our empire respects other cultures and religions, so we operate millets [self-governing religious communities] that can be autonomous according to the religion they believe in. Muslims must serve in the military or pay military tax, and non-Muslims must pay protection tax. Also, by religion…”

While stuffing Fatima’s words, which she explained in a gentle voice, into my head, Yusuf made plans for the future.

‘When I go to Sanjak-bey, I’ll go down with my mother, so I’ll need a lot of help in the administrative part.’

No matter how ruthless the Ottoman Empire is, they don’t just throw a teenager into the position of local governor.

Of course, there is a helper attached, and the most representative helper is the prince’s mother.

Most of the women in the Harem were slaves, just like Fatima was a blonde slave that Ottoman people were crazy about, but the Ottomans were different from the Confucian Taliban who shouted, ‘What’s the point of a woman studying? Just obey men!’

Rather, the women of the Harem were talented people who had received the best education of the time because they had to raise successors, and they became strong pillars of support for the prince.

“You can use it except for the quota you pay to the center…”

“Mother.”

“Is there anything you don’t understand?”

Fatima was surprised by Yusuf’s call, who usually sat like a stone statue without asking questions.

Showing too different of a side in just one day is a good way to be suspected, but.

‘This is not the time to worry about that.’

I had to take the risk of suspicion and proceed with the work.

“It’s not that I have a question, but don’t we need to talk about my situation? I can’t stay here forever.”

At these words, Fatima’s face darkened.

Sanjak-beys are usually appointed at the age of 12, or 15 at the latest, and after that, they cannot return here unless they become Sultan.

“This mother will prepare everything for you, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Shouldn’t I know the basics too?”

Saying this, Yusuf glanced at the maids and eunuchs standing around.

It was a small gesture, but if they were so oblivious that they couldn’t recognize this, they wouldn’t have been able to give birth to and protect the Sultan’s successor until now.

“Everyone, step back for a moment.”

At Fatima’s command, everyone left the room, and Fatima, who was left alone with him, spoke first.

“You surprise this mother a lot today.”

“There will be more surprises in the future.”

“Yes, what do you want to talk about that surprised your mother?”

From now on, conversation was important for the future.

“Which Sanjak do you think I will be appointed to, in your opinion?”

“…That’s up to the Sultan’s will.”

She trailed off, but the possibility of being appointed to a good place was slim.

The Sultan was thinking of the firstborn, Ahmet, as his successor, so there was no way he would give Yusuf a good position.

Yusuf was well aware of this.

“I want to go to Trabzon.”

“Yusuf! You can’t go there!”

Fatima was horrified.

It’s not that there’s a problem with the city itself.

Trabzon was a port city on the Black Sea coast and a large city that served as the capital of the Empire of Trebizond, one of the three successor states of the Byzantine Empire.

It was not lacking as a base, but it was an unfavorable place for the Sultan’s succession.

The reason is that, according to the succession law, the child who first improves in Kostantiniyye [Constantinople], the Ottoman capital later called Istanbul, is recognized as the next Sultan.

Trabzon, which is very far from Kostantiniyye, could not be a consideration for the princes themselves.

“I’ll give you a detailed explanation later. First, there’s something I want to ask.”

She asked her son, who felt endlessly unfamiliar today.

“…Tell me.”

“Secretly spread the news that I’m going out to look around the capital in two days. And there’s one more thing.”

Yusuf lowered his voice even more than before and continued.

“At that time, you must entrust the escort to a eunuch who can die, no, who must die.”

Yusuf’s eyes shone coldly.

It was time to risk his life on luck for the future.