[WARNING: MATURE CONTENTS AHEAD!] Archeologist Clara Kosema accomplished her life goal when she discovered, along with her research team, the missing burial site of Sultan Suleiman’s heart. However, the burial site did not show the rotten flesh of the Sultan, but rather a corpse of a woman. It turns out that the corpse contains memories of 465 years ago, Clara’s past life’s memories. - - - - - - - - Dr. Clara Kosuma, a Jewish archeologist, struggles to be accepted in a society wherein people like her are discriminated against. With nothing to offer but her intelligence, Dr. Clara pours all her efforts into her research, the golden century of the Ottoman Empire, hoping that if she can accomplish such a feat, she will be finally accepted no matter where she came from or what her religion is. Her research brings her and her team to Hungary, once part of the great Ottoman Empire, in search of the missing heart of Sultan Suleiman ‘The Magnificent’. But when she sees the burial site, no golden casket welcomes her. Instead, a mummified young woman lays before her. It only takes one touch for the young archeologist, and the next thing she knows, she traveled to the Ottoman Empire 460 years ago. Turns out, the mummy she discovered is her from her past life. She was once called Kosem, betrothed to Sultan Suleiman. Dr. Clara remembers how she died before the Second Great War against the Austrian Empire. She recalled that she was Sultan Suleiman’s long-lost heart. Dr. Clara remembers who she loved the most. She remembers how she died with Sultan Suleiman. And hell will freeze over before she lets history repeat itself once more. “Killing you is the easiest route to secure my seat as the Sultan,” said Sultan Suleiman in a deep voice. He pressed his body to hers, leaving no gap between them as his fingers lingered around her neck. “But I don’t know why… the thought of losing you is enough to drive me insane.” - - - -
'Ruhenia.'
Kosem knew from her second life as Clara that the country in the twenty-first century called Ukraine was once called Ruhenia and was under Ottoman territory long ago before civil wars ignited.
Kosem answered coldly beneath the dark veil of the cloak. "Let's see."
With her reply, the bald Turk sneered upon turning his head to open the door. But he merrily endured it since there was a famous saying among traders. One who was picky with goods would be generous in akce negotiation.
'Indeed, let us see how that saying goes.'
The bald Turk thought to himself before opening the door and announcing his presence with the customers. "Nalan, welcome our guests with your distinguished moves."
"Wait. I will leave my two companions outside for security purposes. I will accompany you alone inside." Kosem said when the bald Turk was about to go inside the room.
"Hanim!" Torah whispered frantically to her side, but Kosem only replied with a shrug without looking back at the two. Kosem knew that she needed to do this alone.
The sound of the shutting doors was muted when Kosem was greeted with the soft tunes of the Ottoman instruments saz and kemence. Her gold and azure eyes were met by the gliding dark-haired beauty at the center of the podium.
'Nalan Kevser, who would have thought that the woman behind the Grand Vizier's victory of the Battle of Mohacs would humbly begin in the slums as a lowly whore?' Kosem maliciously thought as her peculiar eyes trained towards every sensual move of the exotic dancer of the auction house that would later be called 'the brain of Grand Vizier's Household'.
'Ha!' Kosem wanted to suppress a laugh as she took the plush seat adjacent to the bald Turk, who was still blabbering about Nalan's qualities.
Dark eyes like the midnight starless sky. Thick and soft hair that followed every swing of her wide child-bearing hips. Dark skin complimented with her thin satin dress that barely covered her private parts. And a mask made of gold and silk, hiding the lower part of her perfectly crafted face while showing only her expressive eyes. But what was more terrifying was what lies beyond her mind – it was her mind-breaking talent to plan. And Kosem wanted that talent for herself.
"Bey, can you let me talk with Nalan hanim? You see, I have this fetish that I want to be met if I will choose to purchase her. You know what I mean." She gave him a smaller pouch full of akce as if she was offering a donkey the carrot rather than the stick. For traders, this kind of approach was effective.
Akce equated to greed and greed meant obedience for the traders whose blood ran with gold and akce.
Beneath the large cloak, the bald Turk only got to see a glimpse of grinning hanim. Slyly, a huge grin was painted on his plump face as he subtly accepted the pouch. "Of course. Just pull that rope to call for me. I'll be in the connecting room." He pointed the thick rope at the right side of every seat which was systematically connected to a bell that would alert anyone from the connecting room, which Kosem guessed was located behind the red-colored draped at the far end wall at the back of the podium.
Nalan continued to dance to the soft tune of music played by the musicians at the back of the thick curtains located on the right side of the vast room. Grandeur and sophistication met and harmoniously collided inside the room – a perfect VIP room.
"Nalan Kevser, will you stop that endless turns and take a seat? I am getting dizzy just by watching you." Though soft and humble in her words, Kosem did not miss out to emphasize Nalan's second name wherein no one, not even the traders, knew about except one person other than Nalan herself.
Her light steps stopped midways as her black eyes which seem endless for Kosem stared at them later with a knot tied between her perfectly curved eyebrows. Her sensual aura changed into a chilling one – a calculative one.
With Nalan taking her bait, Kosem took off the hood – revealing her face. She knew that even if she revealed her face, one must be a high-ranking official to recognize her as the Grand Vizier's only successor since she was yet to make a debut in the empire's society.
"Very well, this humble woman will dare to set beside your noble persona." Nalan regained her sensual façade the moment she took the seat that the bald Turk was once seated. "Should I kneel in front of my new mistress, yeah?"
Her peculiar accent aroused her suspicion that Nalan was true of Persian descent. Crossing her legs which were shorter than Nalan who was a grown woman, Kosem grinned with her signature smile to the exotic dancer. "Do you know that the officials of the great Ottoman Empire did not even know the cure for the deadly eastern disease called Antracos? Such a shame that countless people from the eastern regions died every day because of that." Kosem casually started the conversation rather than playing a mind game of tag with Nalan. She preemptively took the strike first to lead the negotiation.
In her peripheral vision, she saw how the seductive smile of Nalan froze upon the mention of Antracos. "Oh my, is this your fetish, mistress? Discussing medical journals in front of your playthings?" Nalan dodged Kosem's first strike.
But Kosem's grin only wider while shrugging Nalan's statement. "Even the Grand Vizier of the Sultan could not even solve this – not in a few years. By then, your brother would be long dead, Nalan. So how long will you play with me?" Kosem tilted her head to the side as she waited for Nalan's reaction.
What Kosem said was true. She only knew as Clara that the deadly Antracos disease that was running rampant in the Ottoman Empire's eastern region would later be known as the Anthracnose disease. And Nalan, who desperately wished for a cure, hoped for a cure with the means of climbing the ranks within the Grand Vizier's people. She raised her merits to be able to demand a reward and that was thorough research for the cure, but Nalan was too late. In the end, she was not able to save her younger brother – Orhan, the vice leader of the Mushtasem Assassination Group.
Her expressive eyes conveyed distrust and wariness for her – who knew about Orhan that no one was supposed to know about, not even Orhan's leader. "The young hanim speaks as if she knows the cure." The edge upon her taunt gave her away.
Kosem chuckled. "I knew of your situation and your aim why you're here in the trader's store. You were aiming for Kadir Tayyar, the Grand Vizier's advisor, who came in here at every end of the week. You will use him to enter the Fahretting Household, huh?"
Gone was the confidence in Nalan's eyes replaced with hope and fear – hope and fear for her brother's life. "What do you want?"
'Finally, you are asking the right question, Nalan.' Kosem thought while staring triumphantly at Nalan.