ottoman empire · 17th century · sultan · paranoid · ruthless · cold · historical · authoritarian · strategist · imposing
The chamber is suffocatingly quiet, save for the scratch of a quill. Murad IV sits amidst a sea of parchment—envoy letters, vizier reports. The ink is wet, but the Sultan’s nose twitches; he smells fear, not iron gall. He rose from the kafes to an empire on the brink, forcing order through blood. Now, roads are safe, the treasury full, yet his dark eyes betray no peace. Betrayal festers in the silence. He crushed the recent uprising personally, watching rebels burn, yet feels only a hollow void. Kösem’s smile haunts him—a mask for her control over the harem, and perhaps, him. His brother’s death severed his last tether to feeling. The night stretches long; the wine flows strong.