Chapter 4 – Truth in the Throne Room
The palace had awakened, yet silence still ruled the throne room.
Sultan Murad IV sat upon his seat, his fingers rolling the prayer beads in his hand—the soft clicking the only sound in the chamber.
His eyes were fixed… but within him, storms raged.
His thoughts were with Cafer.
Hours had passed.
The man who moved with shadows… had yet to return.
Then—
A knock.
Sharp. Measured.
The door creaked open, and Cafer entered.
His face held its usual calm. His steps—silent as night.
Murad straightened on his throne.
"Give me a name," he said.
It wasn't a command. It was judgment.
Cafer bowed, then raised his eyes.
"Recep Pasha."
Silence.
Then, a crack—
The Sultan's fist smashed the arm of his throne.
He rose to his feet. His voice was thunder given form:
"Now I have you, you crippled tyrant!"
Fire burned in his eyes.
Memories surged—wedding nights, palace whispers, his sister's tears… the Grand Vizier's smiling deceit.
His hand drifted toward the hilt of his sword—
But stopped.
A deep breath steadied him.
He turned again to Cafer.
"What you've brought… can shake the state itself. Are you certain?"
Cafer nodded once. No hesitation.
Murad looked into his eyes and saw only truth.
He inhaled deeply, then roared:
"Summon Balibey and Kasım at once!"
Cafer bowed and vanished through the door.
Moments later, Balibey entered with steady steps. Behind him, Kasım, the ever-disciplined aide, arrived exactly on time.
Murad now stood in front of his throne. His eyes—hardened like the palace stones behind him.
He turned to them.
His voice was no longer that of a ruler—
But of a judge.
An executioner.
"Our Grand Vizier… Topal Recep Pasha," he began, his voice laced with disgust.
"What Cafer uncovered tonight confirmed a suspicion I've carried for a long time."
Balibey furrowed his brow.
"My Sultan, such a charge is grave…"
Murad raised a hand.
"Listen."
He sat.
Closed his eyes briefly—
And plunged into the shadows of memory.
"The Janissary revolts.
The people turning against the throne.
The brutal death of Vizier Ahmed Pasha…
None of these were coincidences."
"I was young then. New to the throne.
Still blind to the roots of the state.
But over time… these eyes learned to see friend from foe."
His voice deepened.
Like it echoed from the stones themselves.
"Ahmed Pasha was loyal. Wise. A bridge between me and the people.
His death fractured everything.
Then… Recep Pasha emerged.
The 'savior.'
And claimed the Grand Vizier's seat."
Kasım's eyes widened.
"Then… it was all planned?"
Murad nodded slowly.
"Yes. But this goes beyond palace games.
Recep didn't do this alone.
Someone guided him. Backed him.
An outside hand.
Perhaps even the same enemy that moved before we could."
Balibey stepped forward.
"What are your orders, my Sultan?"
Murad looked at the three of them.
His gaze was not just regal.
It was ancient.
A sovereign forged in the blood of wolves.
"We will not strike Recep yet.
Not until we unravel the full web.
This conspiracy is fed from both within and without."
He turned to Cafer, his eyes like steel.
"You… child of shadows.
Follow Recep Pasha. Step for step.
See who he meets. Where he goes.
Listen to words unspoken.
Read letters unwritten.
Become quieter than shadow itself."
Cafer bowed without blinking.
"It will be done, my Sultan."
Then Murad turned to Balibey.
"You will be my eyes and ears within the palace.
In the harem. The divan. The kitchens. Even the archives.
If Recep has tendrils there—I want them found.
Mark those who speak too freely.
And those who listen too well.
Intimidate if needed… but leave no trace."
Balibey's chest swelled.
"Then the palace becomes my hunting ground."
At last, Murad turned to Kasım. His voice softened—but stayed firm.
"Kasım… you will follow the paper trail.
The imperial ledgers, the appointment records, the treasury scrolls…
Recep's fingerprints are somewhere in the ink."
Kasım hesitated.
"You want me to track him through documents?"
Murad smiled faintly.
"Sometimes… the state's archive cuts deeper than any executioner's blade."
He leaned back, his command complete:
"We will uproot every traitor feeding on this empire's lifeblood.
The enemy is not outside.
Not yet.
First… we clean our own house."
Three days later.
The same three stood before the throne.
Murad's eyes were sharp. His face—tense.
"Speak," he ordered.
"What did you find?"
Balibey stepped forward first.
"My Sultan, I've identified many of Recep Pasha's loyalists within the palace.
Three pages in the Inner Court, two concubines in the harem, a library scribe, and even the kitchen's supply master.
All connected to him in some way."
Murad scowled.
"He's rooted in deep…"
Kasım lifted a bundle of scrolls.
"There are forged seals in divan records and tampered appointment letters.
In last year's accounts, I found deputy treasurers issuing decrees in Recep's favor—without his name present.
The paper trail poisons the state from the inside."
Murad nodded slowly.
"They're rotting us… from within."
Then Cafer stepped forward. As always, his words were few—and clear.
"Recep Pasha will meet with a foreign figure tomorrow night.
Secluded tavern in Karaköy.
Just the two of them.
The trail I've followed ends there."
Murad rose to his feet.
No longer angry—
Now fully focused.
"Then we meet the hand behind the curtain."