Chapter 48
When dawn came, Suleiman left the room in a hurry, leaving me—who had returned to human form—behind.
Still shaken by what had happened in the early hours, I wrapped myself in the sheet and kicked off the blanket with exaggerated stomps.
“Ughhhh, what am I going to do? What should I do!?”
I’d never even had a decent first crush.
Of all people, the first person I ever truly liked turned out to be a prince.
And Suleiman was no ordinary prince—he was a member of the royal family already being groomed as the next sultan. Unlike some Western countries, there wasn’t a designated crown prince, so succession rights were shared among eligible royals, but with his mother firmly in office as the current sultan, it wasn’t something you could easily ignore.
I grabbed a fistful of my silver hair and buried my face in the pillow. No matter how I thought about it, this was way too much.
A “first love who happens to be a prince” is romantic in a fairy tale, but in reality it felt like a huge burden.
“Wait. What if… he likes me too? Is there even a chance…?” I took a deep breath and sank into thought.
In this kingdom, the sultan can have multiple partners. Whether the sultan is male or female, they can even form a harem if they choose. As someone from the modern world, I could never accept that.
So no matter how well things went, at best I could expect flirting or a relationship—anything more would be unrealistic.
“No, and honestly, that would be worse.”
What about my hopeful future of helping Hirem and him a bit, enjoying some sweet perks, and quietly leaving the palace? I was one of those young people who, before anything had even begun, was already drinking kimchi soup—worrying about something that might never happen.
I kept sighing as if the earth itself had opened up beneath me, when Arin opened the door and came in.
“Good morning, Ishtar. Did you sleep well last night?”
“Uh, um… let’s just say I did.”
“Right…?”
Arin tilted her head, curiosity written on her face, but I shut my mouth and silently got out of bed.
After a simple breakfast of the oatmeal and tomato salad she’d brought—both pleasantly nutty—I hurried to get ready to leave. I had an early class with Aziz today and needed to be on time.
Having wasted time in bed, I rushed to the lecture hall. On the way, however, I unexpectedly ran into someone.
“Welcome, Ishtar. I was waiting for you.” Aziz—dressed in red silk that rose neatly to his throat—bowed slightly.
It was the first time he’d come out to meet me, and I felt a little embarrassed, scratching my cheek with a sheepish smile.
“Am I very late? I should’ve hurried more.”
“No. I expected you and came out ahead of time.”
Why would he—? I cocked my head at his odd remark, and Aziz smiled.
“You used a lot of power at dawn, didn’t you? I could feel the goddess’s power from where I was. Was something going on in your chamber?”
“Ah…”
It seemed Aziz must have some kind of detection sense. Feeling as if the events of the dawn had all been discovered, I offered a slightly awkward smile and answered.
“Suleiman looked badly hurt, so I treated him. That’s all.”
“You mean he was poisoned. The toxin was unusually strong—even I had trouble treating it. How did you manage?”
“Well… I just did what Ashtar told me in a dream. I don’t really know the details.”
When I mentioned Ashtar, Aziz’s face hardened for a moment. It passed quickly, though, and his expression returned to its usual calm.
“As expected from one chosen by the gods.”
He sighed and then spoke seriously.
“But you still lack the ability to control your power. The energy you used a few hours ago far exceeded what was necessary.”
“Really…? I didn’t notice at all…”
“That’s because you haven’t learned how to handle the goddess’s power properly. Prince Suleiman should be in good shape today.”
When he mentioned Suleiman, I thought I detected a slight sneer in Aziz’s tone—though maybe it was my imagination. I blinked, unsure, and he continued.
“You might not realize it, but just being near Prince Suleiman consumes a lot of your energy.”
“Ah… really?”
“Yes. If you hadn’t met the goddess and gained power, you might not have been able to maintain normal life.”
“But I usually feel totally fine.”
“Still, be careful. I’d rather see the prince in pain than see you collapse.”
Aziz’s bluntness left me surprised and a little annoyed. Arin, who had been standing quietly behind me, made a small gasp and covered her mouth as if shocked.
‘Doesn’t he have any sense of propriety at all?’ I thought. I already knew Aziz lacked any humility or fear, but openly criticizing the prince like that—wasn’t that a bit much?
Ignoring our discomfort, he turned and strode ahead toward the promenade. I watched his back for a moment, then followed.
A few days later, under a slate-gray sky and a moon halo, Suleiman slipped out of the palace in secret with ten of his closest men and headed for the city.
Their destination was Vinta Port, on the outskirts of the capital.
Clad in black, they melted into the darkness and urged their horses onward. Horse hooves thundered, whipping up dust like smoke that soon dispersed into the night.
Riding a black warhorse at the front, Suleiman shouted back to his men. “Increase our speed! We must reach the port before them!”
“Yes!”
With their shouts, the ten horses surged forward. Suleiman leaned forward and spurred his horse harder.
“Tonight, I’ll catch them for sure.”
After the recent poisoning he had suffered and the harsh interrogation of captured assassins, Suleiman had finally obtained significant leads. The weapons the assassins had used came from the capital’s black market, and the poison’s procurement was linked to Berhan—a relative of Roxelana.
‘If you leave a long tail, it will be stepped on,’ he thought.
Up until now, he’d had only suspicions and no concrete trace; now he finally had something to go on. In a strange way, being attacked during his diplomatic tour felt almost fortunate.
After about an hour’s ride, they reached a hill near Vinta Port. The port, used mostly for large cargo ships in daytime, was quiet as a tomb.
Suleiman dismounted and, hidden by the dark, peered down the slope. From scattered taverns with lights here and there, sailors could be heard drinking.
Carefully scanning every corner of the harbor, he motioned with his chin to Iblan, who stood waiting behind him.
“Iblan, have you found where they’re meeting?”
“They say tonight’s black-market deal is happening at one of the berths where a long-haul freighter is docked. We’ll have to investigate cautiously,” Iblan replied.
“The poison is small in volume. If they picked a place like this, it’s probably tied to weapons trading.”
“Indeed. If weapons are being moved, the area near the road is likely—this should help narrow our search.”
“Good. We split in two and search. Signal immediately if you find the location.”
Following Suleiman’s order, the men in black dispersed quickly.
About half an hour later they received a signal—Suleiman had found the site.
A huge logistics warehouse, hundreds of pyeong in size, stood filled with twenty wagons laden with what looked like high-quality weapons. The men who’d been guarding the warehouse had been quietly dealt with, and the group slipped into the building through a back entrance.
Hidden behind cover, Suleiman peeked out at the wagons.
“Judging by the types of arms being loaded, these are foreign imports.”
“One of the kingdom’s weapon-trading regulations was tightened recently, so they must be bringing things in via foreign routes—likely a large guild transaction,” one of the men whispered.
Suleiman clenched his fist at that. Smuggling arms through the black market was one of the capital’s biggest headaches. Eastin, as a long-standing capital, had many dark forces. One of Suleiman’s top priorities since becoming governor had been to stamp out illegal black-market trade. When weapons fell into criminals’ hands, civilians always suffered. The underworld’s guilds fought not only each other but also interfered with ordinary commerce, making trouble every other day.
Suleiman’s aim tonight was to raid this deal, cut off the black-market supply, and uncover Berhan’s conspiracy.
“Tighten the cordon. Capture any key figures alive.”
At his command, the others pulled up their masks and moved silently. They threaded between piled cargo inside the warehouse toward the wagons.
After a short time, they got close enough to see twenty-odd armed men and two unremarkable middle-aged men shaking hands. One gray-haired man, who checked a chest full of gold coins, smiled with satisfaction.
“Whoever you are, you’re quite generous. We look forward to future business.”
“We’ll make sure the next shipment is no less. Please arrange the date as soon as possible.”
Suleiman, who’d been eavesdropping, nodded slightly to Iblan. Gripping his sword in one hand, he counted one, two, three with the other and shouted at the top of his lungs,
“Strike!”
At the signal, the black-clad men drew their swords and charged.
