Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 73

The farther the distance, the farther the heart. This isn’t just a saying about romantic relationships; it applies to many things.

For commoners who rarely leave their region, the affairs of the capital, months away on foot, hold little interest.

Yet, even those who usually cared more about the village chief or the local Sanjakbey [district governor] than who ruled the empire were now paying attention to this succession battle.

Firstly, most Ottoman territories felt the effects of the succession battle directly.

The rebels, Yusuf’s forces suppressing the rebellion, and Ahmed’s army storming the capital had stirred up all of Anatolia.

Selim’s Crimean Khanate army had pierced through the Balkans, and Selim, upon becoming Padishah [Ottoman Emperor], issued a conscription order throughout the Balkans.

This meant even commoners, busy with their livelihoods, directly felt the impact of the military’s movements.

Furthermore, rumors that Yusuf, the new Padishah, had predicted the earthquake spread like wildfire.

‘Because people tend to believe and spread rumors they *want* to believe.’

This earthquake had caused significant damage not only to the capital but also to various parts of the Ottoman Empire.

In an era where disasters were seen as divine punishment, regardless of religion, the earthquake inspired even greater fear.

Amidst this fear, the story that the new Padishah had foreseen the disaster offered a ray of hope to the trembling populace.

That’s why the entire Ottoman Empire was so enthusiastic about the new Padishah, despite the disaster.

“The Prince has finally ascended to the position of Padishah!”

Yusuf’s message, announcing his ascension, was delivered throughout the Ottoman Empire, and Aisha smiled brightly upon seeing it.

-As the Ottoman Empire, the well-protected country, and the master of Rum [Anatolia], I declare. According to my father’s will, my empire will be merciful to the helpless and miserable, and all orphans will become my children in compassion. Under the name of Yusuf Shah bin Bayezid Khan, my generous empire will walk the path of glory.

Fatima, who repeatedly read the message, slightly hardened her expression.

“It’s a message that clearly outlines the path the Padishah intends to take.”

After this brief comment, Fatima picked up another letter.

It stated that it was time to come to the capital, but there was a problem.

“Aisha, it seems difficult for you to travel right away. I can’t separate a baby from its mother.”

“And I can’t take a baby on such a long journey,” Aisha agreed, holding the baby wrapped in a blanket.

The wriggling baby had bright blonde hair like its mother, and its blinking eyes resembled a meadow bathed in warm sunlight.

Looking at the cherished baby, Fatima smiled softly.

“She’s a truly captivating child; I can’t take my eyes off her.”

When her daughter was born, not only Fatima but even Aisha had been greatly disappointed.

This was a natural reaction in a time when sons were highly valued, but from some point on, people began to gather around Aisha’s daughter.

Mehmet, who usually liked to read quietly, now kept his desk in his younger sister’s room, and Murat, always running around, invariably ended up in his half-sister’s room.

Even Hatis, both a rival and an enemy, visited often.

“The Padishah would be overjoyed to see her,” Hatis said, looking at the baby enviously.

In the Ottoman Empire, where the law of fratricide [killing of brothers to secure the throne] existed, a concubine could only give birth to one prince, and if this law didn’t disappear, Hatis wouldn’t have any more children.

“But this is troubling. I can’t just leave you here alone.”

The baby needed to be old enough to withstand a long journey, requiring at least a year, during which Aisha would have to stay in Trabzon.

Considering their past relationship, Fatima wanted to stay with her, but she had to return to the capital.

“You don’t have to worry about me. Valide Hatun [Queen Mother] needs to manage the Padishah’s harem.”

As Yusuf became Sultan, Fatima became Valide Hatun, granting her the authority to control the harem.

This included sending the women who had been with Bayezid and Selim to the Old Palace, Eski Saray, where the faded women of the harem spent their remaining years.

She also had to recruit and educate new harem women and maintain discipline within the harem.

“Isn’t this what Valide Hatun has always wanted?” Aisha asked playfully, and Fatima smiled lightly.

For Fatima, the harem had never been a place of good memories. She had endured all kinds of humiliation and crises for having the youngest son with no chance of succession.

Most of those she was going to remove this time were those who had despised her in the past, and Fatima wasn’t one to leave such matters to others.

“Don’t worry, Valide Hatun. I will stay with her,” Hatis declared, surprising both women.

It meant she was giving up a prime opportunity to gain Yusuf’s favor.

“Don’t look at me so strangely. The Padishah favors women who are helpful more than those who are simply with him.”

Even so, it was a significant decision, and Fatima patted her hand.

Relieved of a great burden, Fatima rose from her seat with a lighter heart, knowing she had much to prepare for her return to the capital with her two grandchildren.

As Fatima left, Aisha’s green eyes turned cold.

“Hatis, what are you thinking? I hope you don’t believe I’d fall for that excuse.”

The pretext of gaining favor was a weak reason to miss the opportunity to establish her own influence within the harem.

“Just think of it as a deal. I hope you’ll give up as much as I gave up the opportunity.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hatis sighed, looking at Aisha feigning ignorance.

“If you were planning to enter the harem first and build your own faction, weren’t you planning to bring in Circassian women?”

Aisha simply gave a faint smile, offering no answer.

***

As Yusuf took control of the capital, the chaos quickly subsided.

The first order Yusuf issued as Padishah was to clear the debris still scattered throughout the city.

Out of a population of 160,000, more than 10,000 had died, 1,070 residences were destroyed, and 109 mosques had collapsed.

Simply clearing the debris was a monumental task, but Yusuf had a readily available labor force.

“Impose labor on the Crimean Khanate prisoners captured during the recent conflict.”

The Crimean Khanate forces numbered 20,000, and there was no reason to let them sit idle.

With the Circassian and Georgian forces returning home, managing so many prisoners could be dangerous, but Yusuf wasn’t overly concerned.

‘Because they’ll have hope of release if they work.’

This was different from the Turkmen rebels who had rebelled with Shehinshah and were captured and enslaved.

The Crimean prisoners firmly believed their home country would eventually rescue them, so they wouldn’t act rashly.

As the prisoners were mobilized, the debris was quickly cleared, but that wasn’t the only problem.

“The cost of restoring the damage is substantial. We need to collect special taxes and recruit stonemasons and carpenters from various regions,” the Grand Vizier proposed.

Listening to the proposal, Yusuf slowly surveyed the capital.

The city, now cleared of debris, was riddled with holes like a honeycomb, and people, including the Grand Vizier, were eager to restore it to its original state as quickly as possible.

However, Yusuf’s thoughts were different.

‘This could be an opportunity.’

An opportunity to reorganize this sprawling city of Constantinople.

With cement available, many things could be done, such as creating water and sewage systems and organizing the city’s roads.

Therefore, he had no intention of rushing the restoration.

“We need to draw up a proper city plan.”

He didn’t need to draw up the plan himself; plenty of people would work on it if he simply gave the order.

As Padishah, the level of talent he could access had also changed, creating an environment where he could nurture them.

‘I purchased precise talent identification with the collected points.’

This ability was slightly different from the quick talent identification he had considered alongside emotion identification.

While quick talent identification allowed him to quickly judge whether someone was talented, precise talent identification allowed him to know which field a person was best suited for.

‘Quick talent identification is no longer as meaningful to me.’

If someone was good enough to appear before the Padishah, they could already be considered talented.

The ability to simply distinguish talent was no longer as valuable.

Precise talent identification, which allowed him to sense the field in which a person would excel through extended conversations, was more useful.

He hadn’t had a chance to fully utilize it yet, but it was a useful ability that would become more valuable over time.

“More than that, they’ve finally arrived.”

Surrounded by soldiers, all sorts of curses and insults poured out from the two men, loud enough to be heard from afar.

Even amidst the terrible malice that seemed to scratch at his body and mind, the two walked with dignity, and Yusuf smiled.

“Now you’re finally acting like the older brother I knew. Let’s go; we have to greet our guests.”

Yusuf, going out to the entrance of the Third Palace, welcomed the two guests who had come from afar.

“Welcome, brother Selim, and Suleiman. I don’t know how long it’s been since we last met.”

Although his complexion was haggard, Selim’s eyes were clearly alive.

Selim, standing without fear, unlike someone facing death, raised one corner of his mouth.

“Has it been about ten years? I never thought I would meet my youngest brother, who used to barely reach my waist, like this.”

“I didn’t expect you to be waiting for me in Trabzon back then.”

Meeting Selim in Trabzon had almost given him a heart attack.

If Selim had taken the risk back then, Yusuf wouldn’t be standing here now.

“You surprised me back then, and you still surprise me. I didn’t expect you to run away and come back.”

“I came to get something I left behind. Didn’t you see the clock in my bedroom?”

At Selim’s words, Yusuf gestured, and a eunuch, who had disappeared for a moment, brought the clock and handed it to Selim.

Selim silently looked down at the clock and then handed it to Yusuf.

“This is a clock made by my son Suleiman. What do you think?”

“It looks great.”

“I’ll give this to you.”

Yusuf knew very well that this wasn’t simply a gift, and Suleiman, who had been standing still, raised his voice.

“Father!”

“Be quiet! This is not your place. Yes, my brother. Will you grant my last request?”

Yusuf coldly retorted to Selim’s request to spare Suleiman.

“Would you have shown such mercy to your brother? Kasim, the last remaining son of Ahmed, also died at your hands.”

He couldn’t grant the request he had received from Ahmed.

Selim, after taking over the capital, had taken his nephew’s life without hesitation.

“You and I are different. Suleiman will not be a threat to you.”

This was also true.

As the son of Selim, branded as the culprit of the disaster, Suleiman couldn’t gather forces, no matter how hard he tried.

He posed no threat at all.

‘He’s also talented, making him worth keeping alive and using.’

This could also be an opportunity to change the method of succession. Yusuf had no intention of continuing the law of fratricide.

Yusuf, slowly approaching, accepted the clock, and Selim said briefly, “Thank you.”

“Don’t be happy yet. If Suleiman proves useless, he will follow in your footsteps at any time.”

Selim smiled at Yusuf’s assertion.

“Didn’t I tell you when we first met? My son is smart. He will probably live longer than you.”

“Maybe.”

With those words, Yusuf turned, and after a moment, a boy’s cry echoed.

It was the end of the ruthless law of fratricide.