I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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#2 Episode. The Stakes are Life. (1)

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

The palace kitchen prepares meals for 20,000 people twice a day, for breakfast and dinner.

Since the Sultan’s food is also prepared here, adding poison to the food would be an incredibly dangerous idea.

‘If I mess with the heir, it could lead to the death of thousands.’

If I were unlucky enough to get caught, it would be like trying to get rid of a bedbug and burning down a thatched house in the process, so the possibility of playing tricks with food seemed slim.

It would be more realistic to strangle someone in their sleep.

After all, Mehmet II’s second brother was suffocated to death while sleeping.

‘Anyway, Mehmet II, this man is the problem.’

Even though he was my grandfather, he felt like an enemy.

I started my meal with the thought that a ghost that has eaten well looks good, but it was no wonder it was the empire.

Instead of being laid out like a lavish feast, the food came as courses, served one plate at a time, and the dishes made with lamb were enough to captivate even a modern palate addicted to seasoning.

‘The saying that if the Sultan eats the same food, his head will be chopped off isn’t just a joke, right?’

Of course, I couldn’t voice that thought in front of the maid serving the food.

After finishing a hearty meal, I left the small palace residence and arrived at a grand palace that dwarfed where I had been.

It wouldn’t be strange to die tomorrow, but having the noble status of a prince allowed me to access the heart of the empire, where the Sultan was.

But this place was one I couldn’t enter even as a prince.

‘After all, it’s the harem, a man’s dream and a forbidden zone.’

The harem refers to the quarters of women in Islam, and the official name of the Sultan’s harem is Harem-i Hümayun (the Sultan’s harem).

In the future, it would be considered one of the sources of a nation’s downfall, but for now, it existed as a palace.

Even in a forbidden area, young princes like Yusuf had memories of staying in the harem.

The harem, filled with hundreds of women, was diverse in ethnicity and age.

Some blonde women had their hair neatly draped, while some looked like black-haired East Asians.

It was far too early to be shouting “global,” but it portrayed the empire that was a hub between the East and West.

‘In fact, when viewed from afar, it seems romantic, but up close, it’s a rather grim place.’

The harem wasn’t a lewd and depraved place where naked women rolled around with the Sultan; it was a jungle of women where plots and rules made them tremble.

“Women are indeed terrifying.”

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

“How fearsome to think that a noble bloodline believes women to be terrifying. Who might hear such words?”

Within that chastising tone lay affection, and there was only one person in this place who would treat me this way.

Turning my head, I saw a refined woman standing there.

Fatima Hatun, Hatun was a title given to concubines who had shared a bed with the Sultan.

In other words, she was my mother and the only person I could truly trust.

‘It’s not like I believe her for that soft-hearted maternal love.’

One can easily understand how fleeting familial love can be under power just by flipping open a history book for five minutes.

Yet I could trust her because the end of a concubine who lost in a power struggle was predictable.

If she were dismissed and remarried, she would be considered lucky, but she could also be confined or eliminated without a sound.

Thus, the concubine responsible for raising and protecting children was in a fated community with the prince.

“Without fear, one tends to be reckless, right?”

“That’s not incorrect, but you mustn’t forget that there are ears everywhere.”

“I will remember.”

Fatima nodded slightly and gazed at Yusuf’s face.

“By the way, you seem to be in good spirits today. You look quite handsome.”

‘Thanks to putting a 3 into charm.’

I spent my remaining ability points on charm after rolling luck, making it a total of 6.

I considered intelligence too, but no amount of smarts would improve my circumstances.

In the end, survival and variables relied on luck, while gathering people would be best done with charm.

Of course, I couldn’t tell her that directly, so I replied casually.

“It’s inherited looks; I was already handsome. I must appear better in comparison to how haggard I looked after the circumcision.”

“I don’t think it’s merely that, but you certainly look better than your usual timid self.”

“I must change for the future.”

“That’s the right mindset.”

In a cold-hearted family where brothers would strangle each other without pity, I couldn’t have grown up unaware of my circumstances.

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

There was a vast personality gap between the Yusuf who wouldn’t willingly stick out his neck and the me who had entered this game, not knowing the reason or how to return.

Although I suspected I wasn’t mistaken about my mother, she showed no sign of doubt, only delight at me.

“Still, if there’s something good regarding looks, you mustn’t hide it from your mother. Gaining the Sultan’s favor is our most crucial task.”

“If I learn anything, I will inform you first.”

So could you please put away the suspicious gaze?

Since this was an era without mirrors, I was sweating bullets about how much I’d changed.

Having endured the grilling, Fatima led Yusuf to a nearby small building.

This wasn’t just a simple mother-son reunion; it was a scheduled event.

“Then let’s study tax law today.”

Studying tax law, of all things, made me sigh, but regrettably, there was no way to avoid it.

Like mandatory education in Korea, being born as a prince of the Ottoman meant you had to go through it without exception.

“You’ll need to understand basic tax law since you will one day become a Sanjakbey.”

That’s the thing about being a Sanjakbey.

Sanjak refers to the administrative districts of the Ottoman Empire, and Bey means lord or provincial governor.

Translated into Korean, it would be akin to the position of a provincial governor, and all princes of a certain age would act as Sanjakbeys to prove their suitability to become Sultan.

The way to prove that was quite Ottoman.

It involves engaging in civil wars to seize the Sultan’s position.

‘When brothers meet, they’ll measure each other’s neck size first.’

The brothers who become Sanjakbeys would meet again right before they try to take each other’s heads, so I wasn’t wrong.

Even in modern times, brothers raised together can sue and even kill over millions of won, so what would it matter if they had never met and killed each other?

Of course, it was frustrating to see myself as the most likely early candidate to die from losing this battle for wealth.

Being told I need to learn to avoid death made me feel an unusual urge to study.

“Our empire operates a millet system that respects other cultures and religions so that they can govern according to their faith. Muslims must serve in military service or pay a tax, while non-Muslims have to pay a protection tax. Additionally, for each religion…”

As Fatima gently elaborated on the wide-ranging explanations, Yusuf began to plan ahead.

‘Once I become a Sanjakbey, I will descend with my mother, so I must receive a lot of help in the administration.’

No matter how fearsome the Ottoman Empire was, they wouldn’t just throw a teenage brat into the role of provincial governor.

Of course, a supporter would be assigned, and the most representative supporter would be the prince’s mother.

Although a majority of the women in the harem were slaves, much like how the Ottomans adored blonde female slaves, it was unlike a Confucius Taliban that shouted, ‘Women don’t need to study; they only need to obey men!’

Rather, the women in the harem were those who had received the best education of their time because they needed to raise successors and would become a steadfast support for the prince.

“You can use what remains after excluding the central quota…”

“Mother.”

“Is there something difficult to understand?”

Fatima showed a surprised expression at Yusuf’s call, which was rare since he usually just sat like a statue and never asked questions.

It was indeed a perfect time to show a drastically different side, but that was hardly the point now.

‘Concerns about that can wait.’

I had to proceed with business while accepting some level of suspicion.

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

At these words, Fatima’s expression darkened.

Sanjakbeys were typically appointed at 12 years old, and if late, by 15, and thereafter, unless they become Sultan, they cannot return to this place.

“This mother will prepare everything, so you needn’t worry.”

“I should at least grasp the basics, shouldn’t I?”

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

It was just a small gesture, but if he had been so clueless he couldn’t pick up on that, he wouldn’t have been able to survive long enough to become the Sultan’s heir.

“Everyone, please leave for a moment.”

At Fatima’s command, all exited the room, and it was just the two of them left when Fatima spoke first.

“You certainly surprise this mother a lot today.”

“There will be many more surprises in the future.”

“Very well, what do you intend to discuss that has surprised me so?”

For the future, discussions starting now were crucial.

“Where do you think I’ll be appointed as a Sanjak?”

“…That would depend on the will of the Sultan.”

It was a vague response, but the chance of being appointed to a good place was slim.

The Sultan primarily regarded his first son, Ahmet, as the heir, so it was unlikely he would give a favorable position to Yusuf.

Yusuf was all too aware of that.

“I wish to go to Trabzon.”

“Yusuf! That place is not acceptable!”

Fatima gasped in shock.

It wasn’t that there was any issue with the city itself.

Trabzon was a significant port city on the Black Sea and served as the capital of the Trapezuntine Empire, one of the three successor states of the Byzantine Empire.

While it wouldn’t lack as a base, it was an unfavorable location for succession.

The reason for that was that according to the succession law, the child who goes to Constantinople, which would later be called Istanbul, first would be recognized as the next Sultan.

Trabzon, being extremely far from Constantinople, simply wouldn’t be a consideration for the princes.

“I will provide a more detailed explanation later. For now, I have a request.”

Turning to her son, who felt increasingly unfamiliar today, she asked.

“…Go ahead.”

“In two days, I will be spreading the news that I’m going out to look around the capital secretly. And there’s one more thing.”

Yusuf lowered his voice even further than before and continued.

“At that time, you must assign a eunuch to guard me who is meant to die, or someone who must die.”

Yusuf’s eyes glimmered coldly.

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