chapter 3
917 Words
---
By morning, the Palace of Almara had officially accepted three undeniable truths:
1. Seynurr Salah Mejri talked in her sleep and occasionally debated invisible people.
2. Zainab Mahmoud had already apologized to six guards for “occupying oxygen.”
3. The Shehzade’s royal protection order had turned into a public attraction.
“This,” Seynurr announced cheerfully while being escorted through the inner courtyard, “is highly unnecessary.”
"Four guards.
Two female attendants.
One visibly exhausted prince."
Seljuk didn’t even look at her.
“You are under royal protection.”
“I’m a historian, not a cursed manuscript.”
Boran leaned toward Murat.
“Give it two days. She’ll name them.”
Murat replied calmly,
“She already did. Guard Three is now ‘Hasan the Anxious.’”
Hasan nodded nervously.
Zainab whispered urgently,
“Seynurr, please stop emotionally adopting armed men.”
Talha adjusted his glasses.
“From a statistical standpoint, this level of security increases public visibility and therefore risk.”
Seljuk stopped walking.
He turned slowly.
“Are all Egyptian scholars this… chaotic?”
Seynurr folded her hands politely.
“Only the successful ones.
---
The atmosphere shifted when Lady Feraye Hatun entered the courtyard.
Noble. Elegant. Beautiful in a way that demanded mirrors.
Daughter of a powerful council member.
And very obviously emotionally invested in one Shehzade Seljuk.
“My prince,” Feraye said sweetly, her gaze sliding past Seynurr like she was decorative furniture.
“We heard you were… entertaining guests.”
Seynurr smiled warmly.
“Entertaining? No. Educating. It’s far more dangerous.”
Feraye blinked.
Seljuk cleared his throat.
“This is Lady Feraye.”
Seynurr inclined her head with perfect manners.
“Seynurr Salah Mejri. Temporary disturbance to royal peace.”
Feraye’s smile tightened.
“And you are staying?”
“Yes,” Seynurr said brightly.“Inside the palace. Under royal protection. Extremely exclusive. Comes with snacks.”
Boran nearly choked on his own breath.
Feraye turned sharply to Seljuk.
“Is that wise?”
Seynurr gasped softly.
“Ah. A political question disguised as concern. I respect the craft.”
Seljuk muttered,
“Why are you like this?”
Seynurr smiled sweetly.
“Because Allah has a sense of humor.”
---
Inside the council hall, the mood darkened.
Ancient maps.
Sealed documents.
Too many men with opinions.
Seynurr stood beside Talha, scanning a scroll.
“These seals,” she said thoughtfully, “suggest historical alterations during the early unification period.”
A councilman snapped,
“Foreign interpretations are dangerous.”
Seynurr nodded respectfully.
“So is incorrect history.”
Silence crashed.
Emre Bey leaned back, intrigued.
Hayme Hatun hid a proud smile.
Seljuk watched her carefully.
“You accuse our ancestors of manipulation?” another council member demanded.
Seynurr replied calmly,
“No. I accuse humans of being human.”
Boran whispered,
“She’s about to be executed.”
Seljuk spoke sharply,
“Enough.”
The room froze.
“She speaks under my protection,” Seljuk said firmly.
“And if history offends you perhaps listen more carefully.”
Feraye’s fingers tightened around her fan.
---
Later, in the archive wing
Seynurr climbed a narrow ladder.
Seljuk crossed his arms.
“Get down.”
“I need the upper scroll.”
“You will fall.”
“I am historically coordinated.”
She slipped.
Seljuk caught her instantly.
Too close.
Too quiet.
Zainab screamed.
Talha turned away respectfully.
Boran clapped.
Murat closed his eyes.
Seynurr froze, breath caught.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Seljuk released her immediately.
“Do not do that again.”
She smiled softly.
“You cared.”
“I protected.”
“Same thing, different ego.” seynuur added with rolled eyes
---
That evening, strange rumors spread through the servants’ quarters.
Someone had been rearranging palace objects.
Doors opening on their own.
Scrolls placed upside down.
A royal statue found wearing Seljuk’s ceremonial scarf.
later on Seljuk stormed into the corridor.
“Who touched my scarf?”
Seynurr emerged from behind a pillar.
“…Your ancestors?”
He stared.
She added seriously,
“I believe the palace spirits are flirting with you.”
Boran burst out laughing.
Murat frowned.
“There are no spirits.”
A servant whispered,
“Then why did the ancient bell ring by itself?”
The bell rang again.
Everyone froze.
Seynurr slowly backed away.
“Okay, even I did not schedule this mystery.”
From the shadows, a cat appeared dragging the scarf in its mouth.
Silence
Seljuk exhaled deeply.
“So I am being haunted by a cat.”
Seynurr nodded solemnly.
“Legends say it chooses future rulers.”
Boran laughed so hard he had to sit down.
But Emre Bey, watching from afar, only smiled quietly.
“Or,” he said softly,
“future disasters.”
---
Later,lady Feraye cornered Seynurr.
“You do not belong here,” she said coldly.
Seynurr nodded thoughtfully.
“True. Neither did most people who changed history.”
“You think words give you power.”
“No,” Seynurr replied gently.
“Truth does. Words just carry it.”
That night, Seljuk stood on the balcony with Murat.
“She is dangerous,” Murat said.
Seljuk nodded.
“I know.”
Boran appeared with a grin.
“So… when is the nikah?”
Seljuk glared.
Boran laughed.
And somewhere deep within the palace,
the ancient bell rang once more
not by accident,
not by a cat,
but by fate quietly rearranging the future. 🌙
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD