WILDHEART

She would expect better from trained professionals as well, but it was a fun thought to entertain - for her, to have such a power ; it was better than all the riches of the world. Of course, that may have been the vain romantic in her speaking - desiring for the ability to level anyone and everyone to the ground with nothing more than her wit and charms. A smile bloomed on her lips and she chuckled, but surveying her surroundings, Esra found herself agreeing with Saliha. Italy certainly seemed to be magical - the ice, and the chill, and the acrobats, all serving to draw people in like moths to a flame. “I like a little magic. Seems like we need it to brighten up our days.” She commented.

Her chuckle turned into a soft laughter, but she hummed in agreement nonetheless. “Oh, I know. Common people seem to be helpless against my charms. It is the high born people who seem to resist it.” One high born person in particular. The question that came from Saliha’s mouth took Esra by surprise, eyebrow arched as she pondered the idea. “Hm. He might be willing to teach you, though I do not doubt it would cost you.” For a few extra coins, people were willing to do anything - especially in times as uncertain as these. Chuckling, she nodded. “I would love to see that skill used in a diplomatic meeting. We could always use it to catch someone off guard. Just pop out a few knives and there we go.”

♠

Whether magic truly existed in the world did not matter for Saliha, who had decided on the matter long before arriving in Italy. Sometimes, the strength of pure belief was enough. “Speaking of brightening up, what do you suppose they have planned for tonight’s festivities? No better way to foster unity than with fireworks, no? I have heard tales of the marvels the Chinese are capable of.” Although there was a risk of falling for the charms of the gilded event, she carefully walked the tightrope expected of her. Both, in awe and wary of her surroundings. Surely, nobody was brave enough to attempt a scheme in broad daylight.

“Being of noble birth never guarantees having taste,” she quipped with feigned ignorance. Even with the riches of the world available, Saliha did wonder how some of the people here appeared to have been dressed in the dark. “I recall seeing one member of the British court struggling with their curry earlier,” she added, her mouth curved into a smile at the memory. A harmless jest, she would argue if any of her older relatives found out. “I’ll offer him the key to my heart. What’s more valuable in this world?” she joked, her face lighting up at the opportunity. More so Murad’s reaction if he saw her entertaining the company of a performer. “We can mix it up. Throw in a a couple of fruits to ease the mood.”     

“The practise for what? There is little chance of us seeing ice such as this in Anatolia,” Murad pointed out, though her words earned a chuckle from him. As much as he bemoaned them, he did enjoy the company of his younger relatives - they made him laugh, which was a rare feat when it came to Murad. “Or are you planning trips even further North that I do not know about? Sweden, perhaps, or Russia?” There was a hint of teasing in his tone, though only those who spoke Turkish (a quick glance around told him it was likely he and Saliha were the only two) would pick up on it. 

“I have not,” he confessed. “My mother dislikes the cold. We did not visit her homeland unless it was Summer.” Sometimes he thought that was the Haseki Sultan’s favourite part of marrying into the Ottoman Empire. Standing in the snow, he could certainly understand her displeasure. “You are right, of course.” He crouched, attaching the blades to his shoes. Once certain they were sturdy, he rose to stand once more. 

“Shall we?” 

♠

"Maybe I will be able to join Cirhangir on his travels once we return from Italy. I will even ride a horse for him,” Saliha suggested. Certain moments called for subtlety and tact, she saw little use for either when it came to her family. As Atike shown, sometimes one must be undaunted in sharing their wishes. She delayed the possibility of marriage for at least several years, but she wasn’t one to leave things to faith. She appreciated her duty to secure an alliance for her family, however she had been raised on tales of questioning tradition and romance. There had to be more for her than remaining at the Topkal Palace.

“For the first time, we’re on even ground. Try to keep up, uncle,” she laughed once learning he was as much of a stranger to the activity as she was. “We can’t let the Russians have all the fun,” she declared, leaning against the railing of the rink for support while waiting for Murad. A mix of naivety and arrogance rested in her chest as she pushed herself onto the ice refusing to be claimed by anyone, not even the cold.

tips & tricks

location : Rome, Italy ; the winter carnival - the maze. closed for : @salihasvltan​

It was a decent show. Rome certainly went out on their limbs to make the extravagance look good instead of tacky. The carnival had that cold sort of merriment, where she found herself paying close attention to the smiles of the performers. Maybe she was just skittish - it’s been a long, long and bumpy travel, and she barely had enough time to rest before the excitement of a new culture and new people kicked her into motion.

For the time being, she was more than content to spend her time among the familiar people, either opting to tag along with her brother, or to seek out any of the ladies of the Ottoman court, whom she was friendly with ( normally, she would have hogged Cihangir for his attention, but… something in her whispered that her incessant batting of her eyelashes in his direction was a little more than counterproductive ).

Sitting in the centre of the maze with a familiar lady, Esra nursed a warm cup of seasoned red wine, enjoying the unusual taste of it. Violet eyes narrowed attentively as she watched the acrobats and jugglers, lips pursed in thought as she leaned to the side to speak to her friend. “I’m surprised none of them lost their balance ; or failed at juggling. Statistically speaking, it should be near impossible to be this perfect.” She hummed, before a light smile bloomed on her face, glancing at Saliha. “Do you think if I smile to the clown he’ll make an error and involuntarily cause chaos?”

♠

Venturing into the maze had been a challenge from Atike - a simple race to see who could reach the center of the maze first. As Saliha admired the performance in front of her, she waited for her opportunity to gloat. Being away from home had given the young woman a chance to spread her wings, but it didn’t diminish her desire to show off.

“I would expect better from trained professionals then,” she responded with slight laughter at Esra’s particular sense of humor. The early morning practices from her childhood had taught her respect was earned through diligence. In public, the noble held her tongue knowing her place however actions spoke louder than words for a reason. “Maybe it’s the charm of this city. Everything at this carnival feels like it was crafted by magic,” she reasoned, allowing herself to suspend disbelief for the day.  “I think you would make his day. The audience hasn’t been as forgiving as us,” she pointed out, noticing most were focused on the acrobats.

“Do you think he’ll teach me how to juggle?” she asked earnestly, assuming Atike must had gotten lost in the maze with Murad. “Juggling sounds like a good parlor trick to know.” Though she wondered how her grandfather would respond to her vision of juggling knives.

Closed starter for @salihasvltan​

Location: The Ice Rink on the River Tiber

Murad wasn’t entirely certain how he ended up playing babysitter. He had already spent enough time with Atike as his nerves would allow, but evidently, he was a glutton for punishment, for here he was with Saliha, who was arguably just as bad. At least he wasn’t dealing with the two of them together, he supposed, though if that was the prospect he was facing, he would simply refuse. It wasn’t that he didn’t love them. Huseyin may not have been Fahriye’s son, but the Haseki Sultan had always encouraged Murad to treat his numerous siblings the same, no matter who their mother was. That sentiment extended to his niece. 

“I’m not certain this is a good idea,” Murad raised the blades he was expected to strap to his feet to eye level, surveying them dubiously. “What if the ice cracks and you fall in? Your father would have my hide.” 

♠

The novelty of Italy hadn’t worn off for Saliha. If anything, the young woman was thrilled at the attractions that laid before her. Though she shared no fondness for the weather, she decided to frame the new terrain as an exercise of her agility. “You could always use the practice,” she replied in Turkish. As much as she teased her older relatives, especially Murad, she acknowledged her status as a representative of home. The gathering of nations in Italy may be focused on fostering peace, however even Saliha knew there were some lines she couldn’t cross. At least, in the public eye.

“Have you ever done this before?“ she asked. Despite the best education and the stories she heard from merchants, nothing trumped experience. Unlike her, Murad had seen more of Europe and had his fair share of exposure to other cultures. “The men who built rink would had tested everything to assure it was safe,” she assured him, knowing he was prone to worry.

❀

“ I thought you would like them. ” Atike beamed, only to scowl as Saliha made conversation with the merchant. Dear Ferhad? she mouthed indignantly before turning to the man, plastering on a smile she hoped was of an enamored fiancée. “ Ferhad and I, we are engaged. He’s a soldier, ” she interjected, and she must have been convincing enough that the merchant’s eyes lit up. Fantastic, so he’s a romantic.

“ How thoughtful of you! My brother is the blacksmith, ” replied the merchant, a torrent unleashed as he went on about how he would be absolutely thrilled if such two lovely ladies decided to commission a gift, and please, call me Amadeo. “ You will find no better than here, it will be a knife fit for a general. It will be perfect. ” 

Atike turned back to Saliha, smile still fixed on her lips and her eyes glaring murder. “ What do you think? It would fit him, no? Oh, it might even shock him I’m capable of such kindness. ”

♠

With the merchant’s back to them, Saliha winked in response to the scowl momentarily on her face. Her personal thoughts on the newest member of their family aside, the woman took pleasure in teasing both parties involved. Surely, a devoted fiance should already know his bride’s favorite flowers and sweets and not need Saliha’s assistance.

“Please pass along our praise to your brother then,” she lit up as she listened to Amadeo lose himself in his rose-colored ideals. Although she had originally intended to annoy Atike, Saliha didn’t disagree with the merchant either. A love like he described was all she desired for herself. One full of grandeur and wonder.  “Fortune must had been on our side to meet you today, Amadeo. Since we arrived at the carnival, we have been searching far and wide for the perfect gift for Ferhad. He’s not an easy man to surprise.”

Her eyes twinkled as her smile only grew wider from watching Atike. “Oh, Amadeo, I never seen a match like her and Ferhad. All eyes are on them when they are in a room together.” Atike would get her revenge on her later for her scheme, but for now Saliha planned to enjoy watching her relative play along with the act. In addition, talking to Amadeo was an opportunity for her to practice her Italian.

@salihasvltan 

Atike loops her arm through Saliha’s, and as they weave their way through Rome’s sights, it’s hard to tell who’s leading who. Close as sisters, they have always been in sync, and an unfamiliar environment would not change that. Atike only walks ahead when she catches sight of a stall selling decorative knives, simply expecting Saliha to follow as she chases her latest whim. 

The merchant attempting to advertise his wares goes promptly ignored by the Sultan’s youngest daughter as she turns to Saliha, pointing to a dagger encrusted with rubies and emeralds. “ Isn’t this one gorgeous? ” she enthuses. “ It would be perfect for you. Unless you don’t think it’s sharp enough. ”

♠

The novelty of Italy hadn’t worn off for Saliha, who had before lived off the tales of diplomats and merchants visiting the court. Each corner she and Atike turned, the young woman found something to be marveled by. One to wear her heart on her sleeve, she exchanged pleasantries with each booth owner and savored each moment like it was her last.

Waving goodbye to the stall owner serving Korean crusine, she caught up to Atike. “They’re works of art,” she mused, her fondness shining through as she studied the dagger Atike pointed out. Each one called out louder than the next to join her collection back at the palace. They were far too delicate to ever be used, but Saliha appreciated the craftsmanship nonetheless. “Are you the blacksmith as well?” she asked the merchant. “Perhaps in the future, we could commission you to craft a dagger for dear Ferhad,” she proposed, her words saccharine.