A-Game ?

Sophia sat on the edge of her bed, fingers tracing the soft, luxurious fabric of her new dress. The room around her was lavish—far more than she had ever imagined for herself. The silks that hung from her windows shimmered in the warm light of the setting sun, casting a golden glow over the plush cushions and intricately embroidered carpets. The scent of rosewater and jasmine drifted through the air, and trays of exotic fruits and sweet delicacies were laid out on the table beside her. Everything about this space was meant to evoke opulence and privilege.

And yet, it felt foreign to her.

She had her own room now. Her own space. No longer crowded among the other girls, whispering in the dark, sharing the same cold stone floor. This room was hers, and hers alone—something only the Sultan's favorite concubines could claim. Orhan's favorite.

The realization made her stomach flutter in an unfamiliar way.

✧･ﾟ "His favorite..." Sophia murmured to herself, her voice barely audible over the rustling of her silk dress.

It was strange, feeling a warmth when she thought of Sultan Orhan. Not the kind of greedy, burning desire she had seen in the eyes of the other girls, eager to climb the ranks in the harem for jewels and power. No. This was something different—softer, more confusing. She liked being around him, felt safe in his presence, almost as if the world outside the palace didn't exist when they were together.

He wasn't what she had expected, not from the stories she had heard of sultans and rulers. Orhan wasn't cruel or cold. He had a quietness about him, a kind of softness that made her feel... seen. And for someone like Sophia, who had spent much of her life hiding in the shadows, both because of her injury and the way the world treated her because of it, being seen was something she wasn't sure how to handle.

✧･ﾟ* Tap. Tap. Tap.

The soft knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. Sophia straightened as the door creaked open, revealing a familiar figure—Cihanşah Sultan. The elder of the Sultan's two sisters, Cihan entered with the graceful air that she carried wherever she went. Her long, brown hair cascaded down her back, her blue eyes gentle as they fell on Sophia.

"Good evening, Sophia," Cihan greeted with a small smile, stepping into the room and motioning for the servants to close the door behind her.

Sophia rose to her feet, feeling slightly nervous under the gaze of the regal Cihan. Though Cihan had always treated her kindly, there was still something intimidating about her presence. It wasn't the same as her sister, Viernşah Sultan, who could cut you with a glance, but it was the power and confidence Cihan exuded that made Sophia feel out of place, like she didn't belong in this world of silks and jewels.

"You've done well," Cihan said, her voice soft but firm. She walked toward the bed, her fingers brushing over the new garments laid out for Sophia. "The Sultan has taken a liking to you... and with that comes responsibilities."

"Responsibilities?" Sophia echoed, her brow furrowing.

Cihan nodded, sitting gracefully on the edge of the bed and motioning for Sophia to sit beside her. "You must know, being a favorite is not just about... what happens in private chambers. It is about understanding the Sultan's needs, his mood, his heart. You are no longer just a face among the concubines. You must be more."

Sophia hesitated for a moment before taking a seat next to Cihan. "I don't want to take advantage of him," she admitted quietly, her gaze lowering to her lap. "I've seen how the other girls act, how they talk. They all want something from him. But... I don't want to be like them."

A soft chuckle escaped Cihan's lips, and she turned her blue eyes to Sophia with a warmth that surprised her. "You're different, aren't you?"

Sophia looked up, meeting her gaze. "I don't know what I am," she confessed. "I just... I feel something when I'm with him, but it's not the same as the others. I don't want his jewels or his power. I just... like being with him."

Cihan smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. "That is why you've been chosen," she said, her tone gentle but full of wisdom. "Orhan sees something in you that he does not see in others. You may not understand it yet, but that is what makes you special. And that is why I'm here to help you."

Sophia blinked, surprise flickering across her face. "Help me?"

"Yes." Cihan rose from the bed and moved to the vanity, where a collection of jewelry lay neatly arranged. She picked up a delicate necklace, its gems sparkling in the dim light, and held it out to Sophia. "You will be taught the ways of the court, the proper way to carry yourself as the Sultan's favorite. And perhaps... one day more."

Sophia stared at the necklace, unsure of how to respond. "I don't know if I can do that," she said softly, a flicker of doubt creeping into her voice. "I'm just a girl from a village. I don't belong here."

Cihan placed the necklace in her hands and smiled. "None of us were born into this. My own mother, Ayse Neslisah —Nadezhda—, was a simple concubine from Russia. She came here with nothing but her determination. And yet, she became the beloved wife of the Sultan, and the mother of his children. You remind me of her, Sophia."

Sophia's eyes widened slightly, feeling a strange connection to the story of Cihan's mother. A woman who had come from nothing and risen to such heights... it sounded impossible. And yet, here she was, in this room, in this palace, the Sultan's first favorite.

"But," Cihan continued, her voice firm but not unkind, "you must understand that the path ahead is not easy. There will be those who envy you, who wish to see you fail. You must be strong, but also wise."

Sophia nodded slowly, her mind swirling with thoughts. The weight of the necklace in her hands felt heavier now, not just with its jewels, but with the responsibility it represented. She looked up at Cihan, her expression determined. "I'll try."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ

As the evening wore on and Cihan eventually left, Sophia found herself sitting in front of the mirror, the delicate necklace now resting around her neck. Her fingers traced the cool gems, her reflection staring back at her.

She was no longer the scared, injured girl running through the woods in Hungary. She was someone new now, someone different. The girl in the mirror had strength in her eyes, a quiet resolve.

But beneath it all, she was still Sophia. And as she thought of Sultan Orhan, her heart fluttered with that same confusing warmth. She wasn't sure where this path would lead, or what being the Sultan's favorite truly meant for her future.

But one thing was clear: she was no longer the girl from the village. She was something more. Something greater. And for the first time, she was starting to believe that she belonged.

✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ