·Romance, Ottoman Empire, modern age;
·Yildiz Tatlybal - Germany, woman,
Ömer Yilmaz - Turkey, man

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Pasha laughed, plucking the fruit from the apple tree. He handed it to the woman and sat down beside her. He took her hand and squeezed it gently. He watched her happy face as he leaned against a tree branch. He loved to look at his love, the one he loved with all his heart, and did not hide this from her.

-Pasha? - The woman leaned against his shoulder, turning the apple in her hand. - How do you know that this is not our last day spent together? - She took a bite of the fruit, continuing to look ahead. She had a perfect view of the entire palace and its surroundings. One of her favorite activities was watching it. She felt herself being hugged. A head was rested on her shoulder.

-Yes, I am a kapudan, he quietly confirmed. He placed his hand under the German woman's chin -I have the title of army chief. I am often on expeditions and you don't see me. However, know that you are everything to me. - He lifted the woman's head back. - I will not let anything separate us. Don't worry about it.

-I believe you - she replied calmly. She took a second bite of the apple. When she slowly swallowed it, she added: - You should pick one for yourself. They are sweet.

But was she really so calm? Did she feel safe looking to the future? Security is precious. More valuable to most people are other values. Some precious ones like love or happiness. One finds people who set power as their goal in life. The very word made the German woman shudder. For her, it meant only struggle. A fight for the throne and life. She could never feel safe with six sisters. Each ambitious and valiant. All more like their parents than she was. The German throne belonged to her only because of her age.

Increasing conflicts between the women forced her to flee. She chose the Ottoman Empire as her new home. The Sultan knew her, and she knew him. She descended to the title of a slave so as not to stand out in the public eye. She planned to stay that way until the situation in her country calmed down.

Only one thing reminded her of her hometown: the conversations of the princes' mistresses. They looked identical to her in every corner of Europe. Women without humility talked about everyone with contempt. They behaved no differently.

Therefore, Yildiz was happy not to pay undue attention to them. During every shower in the common bathroom, meal and ordinary walks, she stayed away from them. Instead, she was close to ordinary women: especially slaves. It was with them that she talked and played. They danced together, imagining the grand ball they had to attend. They sang as if they were stars on the world's biggest stages. They absorbed knowledge to shine with it in front of their beloved. They wove garlands to stand out the way of other ladies. All together and together.

During the morning in their company, they sat on the grass and simply talked. The German woman listened to the conversations. She braided the garland herself. She masterfully used different colored tulips in it. Every now and then she glanced ahead. She hoped to see Pasha. She wanted him to visit her and take her to the meadow.

Sunk in her dreams, she put her work aside. She stood up, shaking the flower petals off her dress. She looked up at the sky, which had turned a beautiful shade of blue. The gentle hum of the wind was the only sound she heard. Smiling, she picked up the previously finished garland and placed it on her head.

The carefree time was interrupted by the sudden entrance of several men. Most of them were representatives of the military. Only one of them, by the eye of the oldest, looked different. He was dressed in traditional Turkish robes. With a proud posture, he looked around the courtyard. Seeing a German woman, he kept his gaze on her and took a few steps toward her.

-Yildiz Tatlybal. - Pasha bowed, then took out of his pocket a small box, sort of like a casket. It was made of glass, the size of a fist with gilded edges. It shimmered in the sunlight, blinding harmlessly.

The sudden entrance of the feed with several uniformed men caused an all-pervasive commotion. Women began to whisper among themselves. The slave girls, along with the mistresses, looked on interestedly. Only the favorites of the Sultan's younger sons stood unmoved. Standing in the distance, they admired their jewelery.

The German woman swallowed her saliva and bowed to Pasha. She pushed her hair back. She intertwined the fingers of her hands, shaking gently, hidig her stress would be almost impossible. She didn't expect the day to end like this. Not knowing what to expect, she glanced out of the corner of her eye at the favorites. The very sight of them irritated her. She straightened her posture with no intention of being the cause of their laughter. Even in the worst-case scenario, she would walk away with her head held high. But then she felt fear again. Fear of the next seconds and minutes of her life. Everything was dispelled by the man's words.

-The eldest son of our Sultan, Ömer Yilmaz, wishes to marry you - he announced, opening the lid. A gold engagement ring, decorated with small tanzanites and a black opal, was revealed. It shimmered purple, reflecting the sun's rays.

One of the women in the crowd started clapping. At the same time, another did it with her. It only took a fraction of a second for the entire set to be filled with thunderous applause. Hands touched each other in a certain rhythm, which spread throughout the palace. Not everyone knew why they were clapping, but they still did. Other women began to converge on the square. Out of sheer curiosity, they asked and found out about the announcement. One of the mistresses sang the first words of the song "Derine" with her soft voice. Soon other women joined her.

Yildiz slumped to the grass without losing consciousness. She clutched her head and tightened her eyelids. A bubble had formed around her. She did not allow any words from her surroundings. Everything became one sound with no specific meaning. Opening her eyes, she looked up. She was looking straight at the sun, which did not blind her. It was slowly being covered by white clouds, which were accumulating with each passing second. Soon the star was practically invisible. Only single rays were breaking through the clouds. The entire area was shrouded in shadow.

The deepest darkness reigned in the woman's heart. She did not want to accept the ring. She loved Kapudan. It was to him that she gave her whole heart. She knew that he also loved her. She could see it in his eyes and gestures. But what was she supposed to do? It was not appropriate for her to say no to the Sultan's eldest son. Nor did she want to put her only love away.

She carefully stood up and looked around the square. She looked at each of the women individually. On their faces she saw joy. One of them had been proposed to by the future sultan. They rejoiced at someone else's fate. Serving, they would take pride in it, showing sincere respect and love. Raptly a handful, higher social position women showed jealousy. No matter what decision a German woman makes, they will forever remain her enemies. They would never favor her in any situation.

-I would like to talk to the prince - she firmly spoke up as she vaguely analyzed the situation. She looked into the man's eyes, which emanated faith. In spirit, he was convinced of Ömer's good choice. He was not the only one who saw in the foreigner valuable qualities and a bright future at the pinnacle of power.

The pasha nodded his head. With a hand gesture, he showed Yildiz to follow him. They walked calmly, yet not slowly, toward the prince's chamber. Passing the Gate of Happiness, the mighty man handed the woman a ring along with a box. She accepted it with acceptance, without tumultuous emotions.

Finally they found themselves in front of Ömer's chamber. The military men on guard there let her inside, closing the door behind her. Pasha stood smiling at this. After a while, he turned and walked away.

-Your highness - The woman bowed without looking at the prince. - I have been given a great honor that you want to have me by your side, but I'm not sure this is the best decision. - She stood straight, staring at the floor.

She noticed a shadow that slowly approached her. She could easily deduce that it belonged from the person she wanted to talk to. Her hair was subtly brushed off her shoulders. It fell down her back, reaching her waist line.

-Who, then, do you want to give yourself to before God? - he asked, placing his hands on the woman's shoulders. He slid them down to his fingers, which he squeezed gently.

-I have met Kapudan several times over the past few months. It's amazing how quickly I fell in love with a person who is practically a stranger to me. - She smiled broadly. - Forgive the prince, but I need, at least a week to make a decision.

Ömer smiled under his breath, which quickly turned into a quiet giggle. He took the box from the German woman's hand, and from it a ring. He gently slid the ring onto her finger, then kissed her hand. Stepping back, he put the box back on the dresser.

-Your highness, I really can't make this decision now. - She turned around, looking with eyes full of hope for understanding. Seeing the prince, she surprisingly touched the ring and moved it. From it she shifted her gaze to the man and back again.

She walked closer to him and, hugging him, leaned her head against his chest. She wrapped her hands around his neck. She felt herself being embraced and pressed against him. The German woman kissed Ömer's cheek and laughed quietly. Her hand was raised and kissed again.

-We met only a few couples because I had to be in the provinces. Forgive me, my dear. - He looked into the woman's eyes. On her cheek he placed his hand. He stroked it finely.

-I forgive you, my dearest. - She smiled warmly. She slid her hands down the man's torso. She tightened her fingers on her clothes. - I wanted fodder, and I have a sultan's son," she remarked, and after a moment she added, "The oldest and handsomest.

Ömer put his arms around the German woman's waist. With a smile on his lips, he looked into her eyes. He brought their faces closer together. He kissed her lips finely. Yildiz reciprocated the kiss. Subtly, with the utmost care.

-My Sultan - she said as they pulled away from each other, - In the future at least. And only mine - she added. The Turk nodded with a gesture of his head. His answer was obvious. For months he had been acting mesmerized around her. Blinded by his love. As a kapudan or future ruler, he felt the same toward her.