Drawing a map.

Topkapi Palace.

I sat cross-legged on the floor of my chamber, surrounded by maps like a commander preparing for a campaign—or, more accurately, a child with a newfound fascination for doodling. The librarian's map was a beauty: precise lines, detailed cities, naval bases marked like tiny trophies. My own attempt? Well, let's just say if cartography were art, mine would hang in a "Do Not Replicate" gallery.

Why was I doing this? For fun? Absolutely not. Okay, maybe a little. But mostly, it was for reference. A ruler needs to know his empire, and more importantly, what lies beneath it. These lands weren't just pretty drawings on paper; they were treasure chests. Deep within their soil lay oil and metals, and their plains could feed armies and fund empires. Yet here we were, treating these resources like that dusty gym membership—great potential, never used.

As I compared the librarian's map to my hazy memories of a Wikipedia entry, the differences were stark. They hadn't mapped key trade routes, nor were there any markers for resources. Of course, 18th-century mapmakers didn't have the luxury of satellites, GPS, or Google Earth.

Meanwhile, here I was—a reincarnated 21st-century soul stuck in a child's body—grumbling at the lack of labeling. "No mineral reserves? No oil prospects? What kind of map is this?" I muttered, half-expecting the librarian's ghost to take offense. If they could hear me, they'd probably think I was a madman with an unhealthy obsession with rocks.

Still, I continued sketching, adding my own "modern" details: a potential oil well here, a future trade hub there. Honestly, if someone walked in, they'd think I was planning a treasure hunt. And maybe I was. After all, if the Ottomans had half the foresight Google had, we wouldn't have been in this mess.

As I stared at my creation, I realized something: it was still awful. "Ah, well," I chuckled to myself, "if cartography doesn't work out, maybe I'll try my hand at modern art."

And I mumbled to myself, "Oil reserves? Maybe not just yet. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Coal seems like a safer bet for now." A sly grin crept across my face as I added, "It's not like I'm trying to hold back progress or anything—baby steps, right? Besides, if I start talking about drilling for oil, they might think I've lost my mind...or worse, that I've been possessed by a jinn."

Several knocks echoed on my door.

"Come in," I called, glancing up from my desk.

The door creaked open, revealing my sister.

"Şah ! My darling sister, have you brought me the elixir of life?" I teased, smirking.

"Moah, Selim! You always say that," she replied, rolling her eyes as she balanced a tray. "I've brought you some coffee."

"Ah, perfect. Just set it there," I gestured to the left of my table.

Şah carefully placed the tray on the table, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You know, Selim, sometimes I think coffee isn't just our favorite drink—it's practically part of our bloodline. Breakfast, lunch, dinner… even midnight, there it is."

I chuckled, leaning back. "True, but let's be honest. We can't drink beer. If we could, beer would probably steal the crown as our national obsession."

Şah burst out laughing. "No doubt about that! Imagine an Ottoman beer revolution!"

I smirked. "Horrifying—and delicious."

"So, Selim, whatcha up to~~~?"Şah asked, peering over my shoulder with exaggerated curiosity.

"Oh, just plotting global domination," I replied nonchalantly, tapping my quill on the parchment.

"Haah?!" Şah's jaw dropped, her face a mixture of disbelief and concern.

I burst out laughing. "Relax, I'm kidding! I'm working on a map for future reference and practicing my cartography skills."

"Cartography?" she echoed, tilting her head. "What's that? Some fancy royal term?"

"It's the art of making maps, my dear sister," I explained, smirking.

"Oh, so you're a map artist now?" Şah teased, leaning closer. "Does this mean you'll draw me one for my travels?"

"Only if you promise not to get lost even with my maps," I quipped, grinning.

Also there's a list of where and when I wanted to develop the ottoman lands. Technically not all land is fertile. So I want to introduce new techniques that can boost our agricultural products. Also with several mines in the empire. And we want to build factories to vary our goods, so we can diversify, enrich and dominate the market. And to enhance our technology, whether to abolish Enderun school system and introduce the university-approach type or just introduce the subjects through Enderun school, technically we maintain the Enderun itself, but reform from it. But technically everyone must have access to education whether they are elites or commoners.

----

"YESS!!! It's finished!" Selim exclaimed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. His grin stretched wide, eyes gleaming with pride.

Şah, who had been dozing in the corner, startled awake. "Yees? What ish it?" she mumbled groggily, rubbing her eyes.

Selim turned, holding up his creation like a trophy. "Oh, nothing... just, you know, the culmination of brilliance." He paused for dramatic effect, then added with a playful smirk, "Joking. Of course, it's the map! Look at this masterpiece!"

Şah squinted, trying to shake off her sleep. "Huh… your eyes look brighter than those stars in the fairy tales. Let me see." She shuffled over, peering at the map.

"Behold! The Ottoman Empire's future is drawn by none other than yours truly," Selim declared, pointing to the parchment with mock grandeur. He paused and tilted his head, as if suddenly noticing something. "Oh, by the way, there's a spider on your hair."

Şah froze, her face a mixture of fear and disbelief. "EEEEEEEEYYYAAH! GET IT OFF MEEE!!!" she shrieked, swatting at her hair in a panicked frenzy.

Selim doubled over with laughter, his voice echoing through the room. "Just joking, sister!"

Şah's face turned a shade of crimson as she realized the trick. She bawled her fists and pouted. "MOAHHH!!!" Without hesitation, she began punching Selim's back in mock fury, much like a comedic scene from an animated play.

"Ow, ow! I surrender!" Selim cried between chuckles, shielding himself with the map.

But then, with a dramatic flourish, Şah clenched her fists and slammed them onto the parchment—hard.

The room fell silent.

"AHHH!!! NO! MY MAP!!!" I yelped, staring at the parchment in shock. A perfectly round hole now marked what had once been a representation of an entire province. Disbelief filled my voice as I muttered, "That was supposed to be… the Balkans…"

Şah froze for a moment before shrugging and crossing her arms. "Well, maybe next time you won't joke about spiders in my hair," she retorted, trying to sound indignant but failing to hide her smirk.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Fine. It's just a map… we can redraw it. But only if you help me."

"Alright, alright," she said, relenting with a small smile. "What do you need me to do?"

I grinned slyly. "Go fetch me some coffee from the kitchen."

Şah narrowed her eyes. "Hmph! Why don't you ask the servant standing right there?" she said, pointing behind me.

"What?!" I turned, and sure enough, there she was, silent and poised. "I didn't see her there! But, Şah, whose fault is it that the map now looks like this, huh?" I said, feigning a sulk and gesturing dramatically at the ruined parchment.

Şah rolled her eyes, groaning. "Fine, fine… I'll get it. But only because I'm the better sibling."

"That's my sister!" I said, beaming as she walked out.

As the door closed, the servant, still holding a tray, leaned in and whispered, "Shehzade, you could've just asked me, you know."

"Shhh," I replied with a mischievous grin. "This is all part of the lesson, right?"

The servant chuckled softly. "No offense, my Shehzade, but didn't you start it with the spider joke?"

"Tee hee~~" I let out a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of my head.