“Do you like working at your mother’s charity? he asked.
Adeline gave a start. “I do.” She glanced over at his book. “Why do you ask?”
He shrugged. “Do you work there because you choose to do so, or because your mother requires it?”
Adeline inhaled softly. “I do so because I enjoy it, I suppose. I like helping people,” she explained. “Mother doesn’t require my presence, but if one day, I end up running it, it’s best I learn all the intricacies now so that I might continue her legacy,” she explained.
Ertugrul nodded his understanding.
“What about you?” she asked. “Will you become the sultan because your Father wishes it, or because you want the responsibility?”
Dipping his head, Ertugrul considered how to respond. “Because I will not have a choice,” he replied. “There is much to do to run an empire,” he added. “I will have help, of course. My uncles and my brothers oversee various departments—the army, navy, treasury, food, transportation, the provinces... but I know I will need to make decisions that will affect every one of our citizens.”
Adeline listened to the emir’s words, her eyes full of empathy and understanding. She could tell he felt burdened by the weight of his future empire, consumed by the enormity of the task before him. “Your father must know you are capable if he has chosen you as his heir,” she remarked.
He scoffed before he told her of the time when he didn’t think his father wanted him as a potential heir. Didn’t want him in his presence. Didn’t want him in his palace, even.
Back then, he had always believed Ziyaeddin I blamed him for his mother’s death. He had been the second of twins, making an already difficult birth worse. One of the concubines who had taken on the responsibility of feeding the newborns had told him that despite her weariness, Afet had held and fed both he and his sister, Sevinc, before she finally died the day after his birth.
“He didn’t really think it was your fault that Afet died,” Adeline said in a whisper.
Ertugrul glanced at her. “He has since told me that he does not, probably because Sultana Charlotte thoroughly scolded him on the matter.”
Despite the seriousness of their discussion, Adeline had a hard time suppressing a snort. “She is a duchess,” she said with a grin.
“I owe her much,” Ertugrul stated. “Imagine my surprise when my father told me he had decided I was to be his heir. He said he was...” He paused, struggling to find the correct English words to describe what he meant.
“Hard on you?” she guessed.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Because he had high expectations for me.”
“Do you hate him for it?” she asked in a quiet voice.
Ertugrul shook his head. “No. I respect him. Very much. He’s a good ruler. A man of hope. He is looking to the future. Making changes that are good for our empire,” he explained. “I do wish... I do wonder, though, if Sultana Charlotte had not been brought to us by the pirates... would he have ever told me he didn’t blame me for my mother’s death?”
Adeline leaned closer to him. “I have learned that if you wish to know the answer to a question, you must ask it,” she murmured.
Ertugrul considered her quiet words. “I think I did not do so because I feared the answer,” he admitted, his dark brows knitted so he looked far older than his age.
“What’s the worst he could have said?”
Ertugrul blinked. “Yes, I suppose.”
Adeline scoffed. “Ziyaeddin surely would have known it wasn’t logical to blame you,” she insisted. “Besides, who can blame a baby for anything bad that happens in this life?”
Staring at her a moment, he inhaled softly. “He does love babies,” he whispered. “He’s spoiling Zehra and Ahmet, you must know,” he added, referring to his newest sister and brother.
Adeline tittered. “Charlotte will do what she must to keep them from becoming brats,” she assured him. Setting aside her novel, she asked, “Is your father’s love of babies the only reason why you have so many brothers and sisters?”
He allowed a grunt. “More because there has always been an expectation a sultan will father as many children as possible.”
“Even though only one boy can inherit?” she asked.
He nodded. “The daughters have value, too, though, for they are married off to... aristocrats or other important dignitaries. To important people in other countries.”
“Not for love then?” she asked. “Only politics?”
“Not always,” he countered.
