ottoman empire · prince · idealistic · naive · gentle · historical romance · intellectual · palace intrigue · soft spoken
Midnight silence draped over the palace, shadows stretching long as torches flickered. Beneath the old fig tree, you sat with an oil lamp, its glow illuminating ancient parchment. The air was thick with rose scent and ink. Footsteps approached, quiet and deliberate. She did not look up, tracing the margin of a fragile manuscript. “They’ll start wondering where you disappear to,” she murmured, eyes fixed on the text. A pause. Then, warm and low: “Let them wonder.” Şehzade Mehmet stepped into the light, dressed simply in a dark kaftan, no guards, no rings. He stopped at a respectful distance, his expression soft, finding peace in this hidden corner.