Going to Grand Bazaar (Part 2)

As we approached the entrance, a man in his thirties, dressed in a simple brown kaftan, stepped forward to greet us. His demeanor was warm, and his eyes hinted at curiosity.

"Assalamualaikum, esteemed guests," he said with a slight bow. "Welcome to Khattab's Abode. Please, do come in."

I nodded in return. "Waalaikumussalam. Might I assume you are the owner of this fine establishment?"

The man chuckled softly. "Not quite, Shehzade. I am merely its caretaker. The owner is presently away in Ankara attending to some trade matters. Until his return, the store is in my humble hands."

"Ah, I see," I replied with a faint smile. "Well then, lead the way."

He stepped aside, gesturing us inside with a flourish. "With pleasure, Shehzade."

As we stepped inside the shop, I couldn't help but glance back at Şahin. My mind raced with a question I couldn't ignore. I turned back to the caretaker, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Effendi, I must ask—how is it that you know who I am?" I inquired, keeping my tone calm yet firm.

The man smiled knowingly, folding his hands in front of him. "Ah, Shehzade, your identity may be hidden in name, but not in essence. It is the way you carry yourself—the natural bearing of royalty. A commoner, no matter how refined, cannot imitate it fully."

Selim tilted his head. "But how? This is my first time here. I've never walked these streets as anything but a student of my people."

Effendim nodded. "Indeed, your disguise is commendable, but there are subtle details only someone familiar with the royal court would notice. For instance, the precision in your movements—your step is measured, neither hurried nor aimless. It speaks of training in discipline and poise, something ingrained in Ottoman princes."

He gestured subtly toward Selim's hands. "Even the way you gesture, with restraint and authority, betrays your station. Then, of course, there is your manner of speech—polished and deliberate, as though every word is weighed before being spoken. Most commoners are not taught such finesse."

Şahin chuckled, patting Selim's shoulder. "It seems you've been caught, my Shehzade. Perhaps next time, you'll need lessons in blending in."

Selim sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It appears I have more to learn about the art of disguise."

Effendim chuckled warmly. "Do not be discouraged. It is no failure, but rather a testament to your heritage. The people of this city may not know your face, but they feel your presence. That is the mark of a true prince."

"My presence?" Selim raised an eyebrow, his youthful voice tinged with skepticism. "Like I said, I'm still a 7-year-old, you know? It's not that reasonable to say I possess some kind of 'high amount of presence.'"

Effendim chuckled softly, bowing his head slightly in deference before replying. "Ah, my young Shehzade, presence is not solely about age or experience. It is something innate, shaped by upbringing, environment, and expectations. You may only be seven, but from the moment you were born, you have been nurtured to lead. It seeps into your mannerisms, even when you are not consciously aware of it."

He leaned forward slightly, speaking with quiet sincerity. "For example, the way you addressed me earlier—your tone was kind yet firm, without hesitation. It commanded attention without demanding it. Most children, even wealthy merchants, would shy away from such directness."

Effendim smiled as he added, "Moreover, there's the aura of someone who is used to being listened to, not because they shout the loudest but because their words carry weight. That is what I meant by presence, Shehzade."

Şahin smirked, unable to resist a jab. "So, my Shehzade, it seems you've been showing off this 'presence' of yours all along."

Selim sighed, crossing his arms as he gave Şahin a sidelong glance. "I wasn't trying to 'show off.'"

Effendim laughed heartily. "And that humility, my Shehzade, is yet another mark of your station. A lesson for us all, regardless of age."

Selim tilted his head thoughtfully. "Humility or not, I'm still learning about the world outside these palace walls. That's part of why I came here—to see and understand more."

The caretaker's expression softened, his respect evident. "A noble goal, Shehzade. It is rare to see someone so young with such an eagerness to learn."

He gestured toward the rows of shelves behind him. "Consider this store a gateway, then. Within these pages are the wisdom and stories of countless lives—kings, scholars, and merchants alike. I believe you might find something that sparks your interest."

After several moments, I managed to find a book that intrigued me.

"Oh, it seems you found what you're looking for," Effendim said with a welcoming tone.

"Yes, I did," I replied, handing him the book.

"A treatise on naval battles?" he observed, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me, young Shehzade, what do you think of our navy?"

I hesitated for a moment, then answered honestly, "If I may speak freely, we no longer hold a naval advantage."

The Effendi's expression shifted, his interest deepening. "And what leads you to such a conclusion?"

"Well," I began thoughtfully, "we do have a respectable number of ships—frigates, sloops, brigs, and some third-rate ships of the line at best. But they are outdated, both in design and equipment. Meanwhile, the British and French dominate the seas, and even the Russians are catching up. We lack innovation and proper tactical evolution."

The Effendi leaned back, nodding slowly. "You've done your reading, I see. A promising insight for one so young. That will be 40 kurush for the book."

I paid the sum and was about to leave when a thought struck me. I turned back and asked, "Effendi, may I know your name?"

"Aydın. Aydın Burcu, my Shehzade," he replied with a courteous bow. "I manage this shop in my spare time, though it is not my only pursuit."

"And your other occupation?" I pressed, curious.

"Naval scribe," he said simply.

!!! A spark of excitement ignited within me. A naval scribe! This could be the first step toward the reforms I had in mind for the empire's navy.

"Aydın! Will you work for me?" I asked, leaning forward with enthusiasm. "Don't worry about the salary; I'll ensure you're well compensated. We can arrange a residence near the palace—or even within it, if you prefer."

Aydın stroked his chin, assuming a thoughtful stance. "My Shehzade, I am but a humble shopkeeper. What use could someone like me be to a prince?"

"And yet," I replied with a smile, "the way you speak, the insights you've shared, tell me you are capable of much more. I have plans—big plans—and I believe you could play a vital role in them."

"Plans, you say?" Aydın's curiosity was piqued. "What sort of plans?"

I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice as though sharing a great secret. "What do you think of this: one day, ships that no longer depend on the power of sails, but instead harness energy from some new source? Vessels that carry weapons so powerful, they can obliterate fleets from a distance, rendering traditional tactics obsolete."

Aydın's eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and wonder crossing his face. "My Shehzade... If such technology were to exist, it would indeed reshape the very nature of warfare. The thought alone sends shivers through me. But... is such a thing even possible?"

"It's not a matter of if, but when," I said confidently. "And when the time comes, I want men like you—knowledgeable, strategic, and resourceful—by my side to make it a reality."

Aydın hesitated, visibly overwhelmed by the weight of the idea. "Your vision is bold, my Shehzade. Perhaps too bold for a simple shopkeeper like myself."

"You underestimate yourself, Aydın. A great empire isn't built by those who aim small," I replied with a grin. "The path forward demands visionaries—like you. So, what do you say?"

Aydın paused, his gaze dropping momentarily as he seemed lost in thought. Then, with a resolute look, he stepped back and gracefully knelt before me.

"My Shehzade," he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion, "if it is your will, I shall pledge my loyalty to you. From this day, my knowledge, my skills, and my strength are yours to command."

I felt a surge of triumph. Yes, the first step was complete—my first ally in the long road ahead. "Rise, Aydın," I said warmly, extending a hand to him. "We have much to discuss and even more to achieve."

Aydın stood, his expression filled with determination. "I shall not let you down, my Shehzade. Together, we will see your vision brought to life."