After the foiled assasinations, the security surrounding the palace in Athens has been tightened. While most duties were continued like always, it was now pre-occupied with smell of caution.
As of now, Athens is at highest state. Despite the situation, the construction of Darul Hikmetion has remained in progress, thanks to quick decision of Cemil and other governorate servants.
(Just a brief situation on Athens Eyalet, it was only covered on City of Athens to the north of the region, like if you play Crusader kings III, you knew the duchy region? Right now, with Selim as current in charge, followed by the governor, and Cemil assists in administration matters, while Muhtasin in charge of provincial military for now.)
Thanks to this incident, The guards were doubled, and the movement were limited, whether outside and inside to the city. Though the construction is continue at its pace like usual thanks to quick adjustment made by Cemil and the other officials.
Moving on to next, Muhtasin pasha are right now continuing the drill to train the new recruits that has been deployed previously, while Cemil are stabilizing the administration issues. As for Sahin, since he's my guard and he also has its own spying network, I decide to make use of him to increase surveillance across Athens. While most of soldiers that levied previously, some of it return for a moment, especially the one from Albanian ones.
But still, the attempts are quite unprecedented.
"My shehzade, although we managed to avoid the assasination attempt. It was just sudden, and yet we have yet to get support from the people here." Cemil continues.
looking at Cemil, I added. "Well, we can't just assume that all people will accept just as it is. I think there's something fishy here. Right now, we have those russians at Corinth, waiting for us to make mistake. And thanks to this, they will not attempt on siege for a while due to our emergency conditions, whoever it is, they must targeting me."
"Now that you mention it, it is indeed possible. They must be from within." Sahin agrees.
"A traitor! if I presumed" Cemil triggered.
I contemplated a while, thinking possible actions. "Well, I expected it honestly, since we are now opening ourselves to public way too much"
"That might be the point."
"Whatever it is, we must find the root cause. Muhtasin pasha, do you have any spies under your wing?"
"Yes my shehzade, they are ready for you to use."
"Good, let's utilize it, Sahin you were to cooperate with Muhtasin on this."
Both of the nodded.
Payitaht, Ottoman Empire.
In the quiet solemnity of the Imperial Council Room, Mustafa III sat on the throne, fingers resting heavily on the arms carved with the tughra of his lineage. The resulkuttab entered with cautious steps, bearing a sealed scroll in both hands.
He bowed deeply. "Forgive the intrusion, Hünkârım. We just received a report… from Athens."
Mustafa III opened the scroll in silence, his eyes narrowing as he read line after line. His jaw stiffened. Then, without a word, he held the parchment over the brazier beside him. The flames licked the edges, devouring the ink that spoke of daggers in daylight.
He looked upwards, "So now Selim became target for assasination...never thought it would be this early."
The resulkuttab stood silent for a beat before replying in a low, dry voice. "Hünkârım, if I may—when a shehzade shines too brightly, it is inevitable that he casts shadows behind him. The boy's successes… they draw attention."
Mustafa III looked at the secretary. "Say that again."
The secretary gulped. "I mean the achievements he did, it was so obvious."
Mustafa lie back "Well yeah, tighten the security around the palace, minimize the meetup especially the Osman family residences."
"It shall be done, Hunkarim"
The door were rushly opened, as the group of odaliks rushes to Sultan.
"HUNKARIM!! Mihrisah Sultan has been poisoned?!?!"
"What?!?!?!?!! now they targeting my wife too?!, SEAL THE PALACE!! FIND THIS TREACHEROUS BASTARDS AND BRING HIM TO ME??!"
~~
(Previously)
The scent of rosewater and cinnamon hung lightly in the air as Mihrisah Sultan sat near the latticework window, savoring the warmth of the sun filtering through silk drapes. A porcelain plate of Swiss biscuits—gifts from a foreign delegate—lay neatly arranged beside a steaming cup of kahve.
She smiled to herself. For a fleeting moment, the world was still.
Then, the tremor began.
A sharp cough escaped her lips, followed by a violent convulsion. The cup slipped from her hand, shattering on the marble floor. Foam—thick, white, and bubbling—began to pour from her mouth as her body seized.
"Valide Sultan?!" cried Salma, one of the young odaliks, dropping her tray as she rushed forward.
Guards and handmaidens stormed in at the sound of shattering porcelain and panicked screams.
"She's been poisoned!" Salma shouted, trying to hold Mihrisah steady. "Call the physician—NOW!"
Within moments, Mihrisah collapsed unconscious, her breathing shallow. But fate had not abandoned her—the physician, summoned quickly, managed to administer an emergency treatment just in time. She was torn from the jaws of death.
As the palace scrambled into lockdown, another discovery was made: the window latch had been snapped clean.
A trail of disturbed cushions, a rope hastily slung across the inner garden wall.
The would-be assassin had vanished into the shadows of the palace… leaving behind only chaos—and a single unanswered question:
~~
A Janissary captain stepped forward, face grim beneath his plumed helmet, and knelt before Sultan Mustafa III. In his gloved hands, he held a small, folded cloth—jet black, its texture rough like charred silk.
"Hünkârım… we recovered this from the scene."
Mustafa took it without a word.
As he unfolded the square of fabric, the air seemed to tighten. There, gleaming faintly in the firelight, was an embroidered sigil in silver thread: two crossed arrows beneath a crescent coiled like a serpent.
His eyes widened.
"…Impossible."
Mustafa's POV
That mark—I knew it too well. A shadow from the past that should not exist.
A cult older than most dared to remember. Whispers of it plagued the Empire during my grandfather Sultan Ibrahim's time. Assassinations. Blackmail. Subversion from within. They cloaked themselves in piety, but served chaos. The Devlet hunted them ruthlessly until their embers were stamped out—or so we believed.
But this… this was no rumor. The sigil was real. Their hand had returned. I must act.
If allowed to rise again, will rot the Empire from the inside out. It will infect not just the halls of power, but the minds of the people—fomenting rebellion masked in righteousness, poisoning loyalty with lies.
"Does these assasins has relation with my son?"
The janissary captain answered, "We still not quite sure about that, our men are still tracing any hints related."
"Keep it up captain, if this were to accurately true, then it was quite grave than I thought."
I will not let that happen.
They now dare strike at my wife.
I clenched the cloth tightly.
Let it be known—this serpent will not slither twice.
They must be rooted out, and shattered. Completely. Before it coils around the Empire's throat once more.
While the failed assassinations in Athens and Payitaht had rattled the Empire's core, a different kind of chaos was unfolding along its borders.
Moldavian front, Moldavian Vassal
The Moldavian air was thick with damp fog and powder residue. Ottoman soldiers stood along the muddy ridgeline, peering into the forested horizon beyond the trenches. The weeks had been quiet. Too quiet.
"I was wondering," muttered one of the younger janissaries, "if the Russians might strike now—when we're stretched thin..."
His companion scoffed. "Bah, rumors. If the enemy truly had plans, our commanders would have acted already."
He didn't finish the sentence.
A thunderous roar cracked through the sky—a Russian cannonball slammed into the ridge not twenty paces away, tossing soil and limbs into the air.
"INCOMING!"
Panic surged as more cannon shells rained down. The ground quaked. Earthworks crumbled. Horses screamed and men scrambled for position.
"Since when did the Russians get this close?! And undetected?!" shouted a sipahi captain, face streaked with mud and disbelief.
A junior officer stumbled in, breathless."Pasha! Russian infantry spotted advancing behind the barrage! They're pressing hard under cover of smoke!"
The Ottoman commander in charge, Hifzi Bey, eyes wild but composed—drew his blade."Form ranks! Do not break the line! We hold this ground or we die on it!"
Volley after volley lit the grey skies in flame. For hours, the Ottoman troops fought tooth and nail, their defenses strained under relentless assault. Despite moments of fierce resistance, the superior Russian coordination and the surprise of their maneuver began to tip the tide.
Eventually, with ammunition low and casualties mounting, Hifzi Bey had no choice.
"Sound the retreat! Fall back to the secondary line! Protect the road to Silistra at all costs!"
His voice was hoarse, but defiant. Even in defeat, they would not allow the Russians a free path.
As the soldiers pulled back, wounded and limping, the pasha looked back once at the battlefield—now drenched in smoke and blood.
Back to Athens (Selim POV)
As Muhtasin's intel on the defeat on Moldavian lands, I contemplated, looking at the current map, things just getting interesting. Since, the war has been at Russians' side.
I called Cemil and Muhtasin, to discuss on current situation as for Corinth situations.
"Muhtasin pasha, how's our preparation to retake Corinth?"
"Well, if we want to start, we can do it, if to proceed as usual.."
"Or we can do this." I gave the instruction on how to proceed to Muhtasin.
"That...can be done also, my shehzade, once again I'm impressed with your 'method' quite weird, but I think we can do that too."
Cemil looked back. "My shehzade, do you think we can do that? the rebels will soon know as they detect it."
"Which is why we must do it at night."