Chapter 68
The atmosphere in the audience chamber turned icy cold at Theron’s firm warning.
Berhan, his eyes wide with confusion, glanced back and forth between Theron and Roxelana, unsure of what to do.
But the one who was truly surprised was Roxelana herself.
‘He’s serious…?’
Theron had never lost his composure before her.
Not once had he faltered in his calm, smiling demeanor — even if an arrow were flying straight for his heart, her son wouldn’t have blinked.
To see him this angry, simply because someone had spoken a woman’s name carelessly, was truly astonishing.
“I understand. I’ll be careful,” she said lightly. “But tell me, what’s your relationship with that woman, that you speak of her so seriously?”
“…Let’s just say we’re friends.”
“Friends, hm? That’s quite the convenient excuse.”
Roxelana calmly avoided Theron’s irritated gaze and raised her cooled teacup with deliberate grace.
The tense air between them was first broken by Berhan.
“So, Your Highness,” he said with a mocking tone, “what exactly is it you’ve come to tell us? Let’s hear it.”
“From now on,” Theron said coldly, “you are never to touch Ishtar. If you harm her without my permission, I will not stand by quietly.”
“Well, well. And here I thought you could tell personal feelings from state affairs. Seems I was mistaken. To get so worked up over some lowborn wom—”
“You’d best shut your mouth,” Theron cut in sharply. “When a man speaks without understanding the weight of his words, he risks losing far more than just his tongue.”
“Wh-what did you say to me?!”
Berhan shot to his feet, pointing an accusatory finger as he shouted in rage.
Roxelana, clearly unimpressed, simply had him removed from the audience chamber.
“You treat him quite harshly,” she observed once he was gone. “Why is that?”
“There’s nothing worse than a fool with a little power,” Theron replied coolly. “Surely you, Mother, know that well.”
“Leave him be. He’s kept around for a reason. When the time comes, he’ll be dealt with accordingly.”
“…I suppose that’s true,” Theron murmured.
He lowered his gaze to the teacup sitting before him.
The pale red liquid within looked, at first glance, like a simple herbal tea — but he knew better.
It was poison.
Fragrant and sweet, it could invigorate the body if brewed one way — or kill silently if mixed another.
And since he had personally selected and cultivated the plant variety himself, there was no way he didn’t recognize it.
‘No need to dirty my own hands, then.’
Watching Berhan’s antics made him want to eliminate the man that very night,
but he knew Roxelana would slowly poison him in due time.
There was no need for him to interfere.
Having said what he came to say, Theron left the chamber and returned to his quarters.
He had many matters waiting that required his personal attention.
Yet, contrary to Theron’s belief that he had clearly warned her off, Roxelana found herself more intrigued by the woman called Ishtar.
“Ishtar, was it…? Seems I’ve found an interesting new piece for my chessboard,” she murmured.
If she used that woman wisely, she might gain the upper hand in her delicate tug-of-war with Theron.
A satisfied smile flickered briefly across Roxelana’s lips.
About a week later.
I had returned to my old routine of being practically confined within the palace.
After the carriage attack, Suleiman had treated me like a runaway cat finally found after years of searching.
You know how an owner, after finding their lost cat, won’t let it out of their sight — showering it with treats and affection?
That was Suleiman, through and through.
He indulged me in everything I asked for… except for one thing: leaving the palace again.
‘I already knew he had a bit of a paranoia about my safety,’ I thought,
‘but this is getting ridiculous.’
When he’d pleaded with me, eyes full of worry, asking that I wait until all danger had passed, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
Still, the taste of freedom I’d briefly regained made it impossible to be content with this gilded cage.
Think about it —
after living freely in a modern world for over twenty years, how could anyone truly be satisfied, no matter how beautiful or luxurious the palace might be?
‘Freedom… it’s something you don’t realize you value until it’s gone.’
Having once tasted it, I couldn’t go back.
So, as I passed the days, I kept scheming about how to get outside again.
But palace life wasn’t exactly peaceful, either — surprisingly, because of one man’s absence.
“Ugh, so boring,” I muttered, stretching my arms under the blazing sunlight.
I’d just finished another tedious, formal prayer service at the grand temple inside the palace.
It was more ceremony than devotion — a dull routine I only attended out of obligation.
‘If Aziz were here, he’d make up some excuse to get me out of it,’ I sighed.
Since Aziz — my mentor and unofficial spokesperson — had disappeared,
I’d found myself with a pile of annoying responsibilities.
He used to handle everything: temple duties, invitations, events… filtering what was important before bringing it to me.
Now, with him gone, I had to deal with everything myself.
Of course, Arin was still around — but she managed my daily life, not official matters.
As my personal maid, she had neither the authority nor the experience to turn down temple requests or noble invitations.
“…Guess I really have become important,” I said wryly.
Somehow, the stray cat had become a person of status —
a woman rumored to be personally close to Suleiman, the next Sultan, and friendly with Hürrem as well.
That woman was me.
And now, people were desperate to get close to me — to curry favor by any means.
“I can’t believe Aziz handled all of that alone…” I sighed.
I’d thought he was just a stuffy old scholar, but apparently, he’d been working harder for me than I realized.
While I sat there, staring at the growing pile of letters and invitations,
a voice called from behind me.
“Lady Ishtar, might I have a moment of your time?”
I turned to see an elderly man in a spotless white priest’s robe, his face lined with age but his eyes bright.
I recognized him immediately.
“Ah… High Priest,” I said.
He smiled kindly. “You seem troubled, my lady. Is something weighing on your mind?”
“…High Priest?”
“Yes, indeed. I’m honored you remember me.”
“Honored, huh,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. “You’re not teasing me, are you? Everyone’s been treating me like I’m some big deal lately — it’s exhausting.”
“Not at all,” he chuckled. “This old man speaks nothing but pure truth.”
I stared at him.
His gentle eyes shone with childlike clarity — far too pure for someone of such high rank.
It almost made me feel guilty for complaining.
Avoiding his gaze, I fidgeted with my hands and asked,
“So, what brings someone like you to me? I didn’t miss a ceremony or something again, did I? I’ve been busy with volunteer work outside the temple, I swear.”
He laughed softly. “Oh no, nothing like that. You’ve already done much for the temple. I’m here for another reason.”
“Well… can’t say I’m surprised,” I said with a wry smile.
“In truth,” he continued, “I came to speak with you about Aziz. I doubt he explained the reason for his departure in detail.”
“……He didn’t. He just left me a letter and vanished.”
The High Priest gave me a sympathetic look, then smiled faintly.
“Do you know who Aziz truly is, Lady Ishtar?”
I hesitated.
Even though he was the High Priest, I wasn’t sure how much he really knew about Aziz — or what I was allowed to say.
“Well… I know he’s a bit odd. And definitely special,” I answered vaguely.
At that, the old man’s eyes grew slightly sad.
“Aziz has waited a very long time for you — for the star that you are, Lady Ishtar. He said that soon, an important time is coming.”
“…An important time?”
“Yes,” the priest said solemnly. “He left your side only to prepare for that moment.”
