CHAPTER TWO
1067 Words
---
Seynurr discovered two things within the first hour of stepping into Almara Palace.
The first was that royal corridors were designed with a cruel sense of drama.
Every footstep echoed like a declaration. Every whisper felt like a confession.
Even Zainab’s nervous gulp seemed to announce itself before she did.
The second was that she had apparently said something historically dangerous enough to require armed supervision.
“This is not an arrest,” Murat said for the third time, walking beside her with his usual calm.
“It feels exactly like an arrest,” Zainab whispered, clutching her bag like it contained her last piece of freedom.
Talha adjusted his glasses. “Technically, it’s an escort. A very… intense escort.”
Seynurr nodded thoughtfully.
“So. A polite kidnapping.”
Boran, walking behind them with two guards, snorted so loudly that one of the soldiers almost smiled.
Ahead of them, Shehzade Seljuk walked with infuriating ease, hands clasped behind his back as though he were merely leading a casual tour and not guiding three foreign students through a palace that looked capable of imprisoning history itself.
“This is royal protection,” Seljuk said without turning.
“Protection from what exactly?” Seynurr asked.
Seljuk finally glanced over his shoulder, a sharp, unreadable smirk playing on his lips.
“From this palace.”
Then, after a perfectly timed pause, he added,
“It has a habit of swallowing outsiders.”
Zainab whimpered softly.
Talha murmured, “That was not comforting.”
Seynurr, however, smiled.
---
shahzade Seljuk escort the guests to the ruler of Almara
Emre Bey did not look like a man who ruled a kingdom.
He looked like a man who understood one.
Tall, composed, dressed in traditional attire woven with subtle modern details, his authority did not demand attention it commanded it naturally.
His presence was calm, observant, like someone who had outlived the need to impress power.
Beside him stood Hayme Hatun, serene and radiant, her presence softening the entire hall.
Where Emre Bey felt like a mountain, she felt like light after rain.
Seynurr straightened immediately, folding her hands with instinctive respect.
Zainab nearly bowed herself into another century.
Talha stood still, though his shoulders tensed.
“Your Majesty,” Seynurr began politely, “thank you for receiving us. I promise I usually argue with history books, not princes.”
Seljuk scoffed.
“That’s debatable.”
Hayme Hatun smiled first.
“Come, child,” she said gently. “Anyone who challenges arrogance with knowledge is welcome here.”
Something shifted inside Seynurr not fear, not excitement.
Recognition.
Emre Bey studied her carefully, not with suspicion, but with curiosity.
“You came for research,” he said. “On early Turkish imperial life.”
“Yes, Bey. Truth preserved is power shared.”
Emre Bey smiled faintly.
“Well said.”
Seljuk frowned.
“Father..”
“I’ve decided,” Emre Bey said calmly, cutting him off, “that our guests will reside within the palace grounds.”
Zainab gasped.
Talha blinked.
Seynurr froze.
“Excuse me?”
“For your safety,” Emre Bey continued. “Certain archives involve sensitive history.
There will be a royal protection order.”
Seljuk crossed his arms.
“I’ll assign guards.”
Seynurr raised one finger.
“Respectfully no men inside private quarters.”
Hayme Hatun’s smile widened.
“I like her already.”
Seljuk muttered,
“This is going to be a disaster.”
---
That evening, the Seljuk family gathered for dinner.
Princes. Princesses. Commanders. Advisors.nobles.
And three Egyptian students trying very hard not to look like defendants.
When Seynurr entered the grand dining hall, she stopped.
The table was enormous. Long. Elegant. Terrifying.
“Is this a dinner,....” she whispered to Zainab,
“or a historical reenactment of my anxiety?”
Zainab squeezed her hand.
“Just sit before they crown you.”
Seynurr movedtoward the nearest chair—
“WAIT!”
A servant rushed forward.
“No one is allowed to sit there!”
Seynurr froze mid-squat.
“…Is it cursed?” she asked calmly.
“Because I already sat on three cursed chairs today.”
All eyes turned to Hayme Hatun.
“That seat is reserved for...”
Emre Bey cut in gently.
“....guests of fate.”
Seynurr blinked.
“…Does fate come with dessert?”
Boran burst out laughing.
Fatma sultana covered her mouth.
Seljuk muttered, “This is already a disaster.”
Seynurr sat anyway.
no one stop her
Not even fate objected.
Midway through dinner, laughter flowed freely.
Until Seynurr laughed too hard and choked.
Zainab panicked.
“Seynurr—breathe!”
Talha slapped her back awkwardly.
A servant rushed forward with water and blurted:
“Your Highne....”
Silence.
“…Miss! MISS!”
Seynurr coughed, then laughed.
“I choke once and get promoted.”
Everyone laughed.
Everyone except Emre Bey.
“Not entirely a mistake,” he said quietly.
Seljuk frowned.
“Father..”
Hayme Hatun smiled.
“Let her drink first.”
Seynurr laughed again, wiping her mouth.
“So this palace gives titles by near death experiences?”
Boran:
“Works for me.”
But Seljuk had stopped smiling.
And Emre Bey had stopped eating.
---
As the laughter returned and dishes were cleared, Seynurr leaned towards fatma sultana and whispered:
“Your family is very strange.”
fatma sultana whispered back:
“You’re sitting in the fate seat and got called ‘Highness’ on your first night.”
Seynurr grinned.
“Still better than my university cafeteria.”
Across the table, Seljuk watched her quietly.
For the first time, he wasn’t amused.
Because jokes aside…
the palace had rules.
And tonight—
Seynurr had broken two of them without even trying.
She thought it was comedy.
Almara knew it was the beginning. 🌙
---
Later that night, Seynurr stood alone on palace balcony, overlooking the endless lights of Almara.
The palace no longer felt like a cage.
It felt like a test.
Behind her, Seljuk spoke softly.
“Most people fear this place.”
She didn’t turn.
“I’m not most people.”
“No,” he said quietly. “You’re not.”
Somewhere deep within the palace, ancient archives waited.
Unopened doors.
Hidden histories.
Secrets that could rewrite more than books.
And Seynurr did not yet know it
But Almara had not swallowed her.
It had chosen her.
🌙
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