My POV
How fortunate I am. Aydin has returned—safe, steadfast, and triumphant. With his forces now back in Athens, the security of the eyalet can finally take root on firmer ground. From the reports I received, he began with almost nothing—only a handful of xebecs and small galleys, the very vessels I had financed from my personal reserve of altın.
Yet within a year, that small flotilla grew into something far greater. Through bold raids along the Black Sea and cunning trade captures with the Crimean Khanate's support, he managed to secure spoils—enough to purchase not one, but several third-rate ships of the line. Ottoman sailors whispered his name like a legend, saying "Aydin the Corsair sails with the Shehzade's will."
It reminded me of how the empire once stood—a maritime power that ruled the Mediterranean from Algiers to Crete. But in my time, the navy had waned, decayed under corruption and complacency. The grand days of Barbarossa, Turgut Reis, and Piyale Pasha felt like distant stars.
Perhaps it was time to rekindle that flame. Not through the empire's sluggish bureaucracy, but through something new—a private naval initiative under my own banner.
The thought lingered like the whisper of destiny.
"My Shehzade," Aydin said as he entered the chamber, bowing with that confident half-grin of his. His naval coat was still damp from the sea breeze, the scent of salt clinging to him like victory itself. "The reports you requested, and the logs of our last engagements."
He placed a bundle of documents on my desk—sealed, neat, and thick with ink and numbers. I took them, skimming through the pages: trade records, captured vessels, port tolls, and the tally of new ships purchased through spoils and Crimean aid.
I leaned back, letting out a long breath. "So this is what you've built from just a few galleys. Truly… impressive, Aydin-effendim."
He bowed slightly. "All thanks to your trust, Shehzade. Without the initial funding, none of this would have been possible."
"You've done more than I hoped," I replied, smiling faintly. "The sea answers to strength, not to titles. And you've proven that again."
For a moment, the chamber fell quiet save for the rustle of papers and the sound of quills scratching. Then, I turned to him again.
"Tell me, Aydin—how many ships are now seaworthy under your command?"
"Three ships of the line, seven xebecs, five galiots, and numerous small crafts. All flying your personal banner." His tone carried a hint of pride. "The men call it Selim's Fleet."
I couldn't help but laugh softly. "Selim's Fleet, you say? I suppose the name will do."
My gaze drifted to the map of the Aegean pinned upon the wall, its coastlines marked with red ink and naval routes. "Aydin, with these ships, we can ensure the safety of the Peloponnese and the sea lines to Crete. But I want more than defense. I want mobility. Strength. A message."
He raised an eyebrow. "A message, Shehzade?"
"Yes," I said quietly. "That we Ottomans can build. Still command the seas. I plan to establish a naval dockyard here in Athens—small at first, perhaps under the guise of local ship repairs. But one day… a true arsenal, worthy of the empire."
Aydin's eyes widened slightly. "That would rival even the Tersane-i Amire in the capital."
"I would not say rival," I corrected, "more like a complement. Let the Payitaht be the heart—but Athens shall be the new lungs that breathe life into it."
He smiled, bowing his head. "Then allow me to oversee its foundations. I know the craftsmen and shipwrights from Crimea and the Aegean who can serve."
"Good. I'll have prepare the documents for funding. I'll make it official."
For a moment, I paused and looked out the window, where the dawn broke over the Acropolis. The city stirred below, alive again after rebellion and ruin.
And with Aydin's fleet beneath my command… perhaps this was how empires begin again—not with conquest, but with creation.
~~
Business resumed its rhythm in Athens. Markets reopened, caravans returned to the roads, and the dust of rebellion began to settle. While reconstruction continued, I set my eyes on the next phase—something quieter yet far more dangerous.
A foundation for my own spy network.
Athens—and the broader region—would be the first ground where its roots touched the earth.
Ahmet Karamir stood before my desk, reading the sealed script detailing the framework.
"My shehzade…" he lifted his gaze, curiosity clear in his eyes. "If I may ask—will this network function the same way as your father's intelligence service?"
"No," I answered firmly. "This one will be mine. Independent. I need you to gather reliable men across the region—people who can adapt quickly, who blend naturally into taverns, markets, caravans, and ports."I leaned forward. "You know these kinds of men, Ahmet. Can you build the foundation?"
He placed a fist on his chest."It shall be done, my shehzade."
A moment later, footsteps echoed through the hallway. Cemil entered, and with him walked a young woman dressed with refined composure—calm, poised, almost out of place among soldiers and administrators.
"My shehzade," Cemil announced, "allow me to introduce the one who has discreetly assisted me in several delicate matters back in Istanbul. Her name is Sylphia."
She bowed gracefully."My shehzade."
I studied her. Sharp eyes—observant. A presence that did not announce itself, but did not disappear either. Ah. A useful quality for espionage.
"Another new face," I said lightly. "Welcome to Athens, Sylphia."
She merely smiled.
~~
Later, in the governor's study, I called Cemil over the reconstruction report.
"Cemil, how is our economic situation?"
He handed me updated ledgers."As of now, we are stabilizing, my shehzade. With the roads clearing and repairs underway, merchants have begun selling again. Market stalls are filling, caravans are returning, and tax revenue is rising at a healthy pace."
"Good," I nodded. "A recovering economy means fewer desperate hands for rebellion to cling to."
"And," Cemil added, "your earlier reforms regarding the distribution of grain and pricing controls have helped us win the trust of the common folk."
"Well then," I exhaled, closing the ledger, "Athens is slowly standing on its feet again."
Outside, the distant clatter of soldiers building a new road echoed through the hills.Inside, Ahmet's new intelligence framework lay on my desk—ink drying, silence pulsing with possibility.
A city rebuilt on the surface.
Athens – Late Evening
The moon hung low over the Acropolis, its pale glow spilling across the narrow streets and the half-repaired stone roads. The city was quiet—but not asleep. Not anymore. Not since the rebellion.
And tonight, it served another purpose.
Ahmet Karamir moved through the back alleys with the confidence of a man who knew every shadow in the city. Cloaked in a dark mantle, he didn't wear anything that marked him as an officer. That was the point.
His mission tonight was the first step in building my network.
A network that would serve me, not the palace—not yet.
He arrived at an old tavern tucked between two crumbling stone buildings. The wooden sign creaked softly in the night breeze: The Broken Laurel.
Inside, the air smelled of wine, smoke, and whispered trouble.
Ahmet spotted the first man immediately.
A rugged Albanian with a missing finger and eyes sharper than a dagger.Former bandit. Former smuggler. Now unemployed—dangerous men without purpose were always easy to direct.
Ahmet sat beside him.
"You're Dervin of Tepelena," he said without introduction.
The man froze. "...Who's asking?"
"Someone who knows you can follow orders when the pay is good."
Dervin licked his lips. "…And what orders would that be?"
"To watch. To listen. To disappear when needed."
Ahmet placed a pouch on the table. The weight told the man everything he needed to know.
Dervin smirked."I'm in."
Outside, Ahmet headed deeper into Athens.
His next target was already waiting.
A woman leaned against the corner of a stone archway, her face hidden beneath a dark veil. Her posture was casual, but her eyes were alert—trained. She was once a servant in an Athenian noble house before the rebellion destroyed everything she knew.
Her name was Marina.
When she spoke, her voice was steady. "You sent word you needed someone who can blend into households."
"Not only that," Ahmet replied. "I need someone who knows how to read people. Someone who hears secrets the moment they are whispered."
Marina held his gaze."And in return?"
"Safety. Purpose. And coin."
She smiled."You'll have me, Ahmet-effendi."
The final recruit was the most difficult.
A young scholar, once a student of philosophy before the rebellion burned half of the city's libraries. His name was Niketas, and unlike the others, he did not need money.
He needed redemption.
Ahmet found him copying manuscripts in an abandoned school, candlelight casting shadows across his tired eyes.
"I've read your work," Ahmet said. "You understand people. Patterns. You predict behavior like a man reading tides."
Niketas didn't look up. "You want me to spy."
"I want you to help prevent this land from falling into chaos again."
Niketas finally met Ahmet's gaze. "For the prince?"
"Yes. For Shehzade Selim."
Silence lingered.
Then Niketas stood, extinguishing his candle.
"I will serve."
Later, in the Governor's Residence
Ahmet returned at dawn.
Three names. Three talents. Three shadows ready to move at my command.
He knelt before my desk and handed me a sealed list.
"My shehzade," he said, "the foundation has been laid. Your network now has eyes in the mountains, ears in the taverns, and a mind among the scholars."
I opened the scroll, reading through each profile.
Dervin—strength and stealth.Marina—social infiltration.Niketas—analysis and intelligence.
A small beginning—but a beginning nonetheless.
"Good work, Ahmet," I said softly. "These three will become the roots of something far greater."
He bowed his head."Awaiting your next orders, my shehzade."
I set the scroll aside. I turn to three of them.
"You all will be assigned to be my hand, my eyes, my ears, the embodiment of myself when it comes to ensure the darkness do not lurk too much. Loyal to me and I'll assure you not just yourself, but those who you dear will be protected."
As they heard about my preposition, they thought for a while and do knight stance,
"Our life will be yours to command!" Three of them said in unison.
And in that quiet moment, I realized—
For the first time, Athens was no longer just a province under Ottoman rule.
It was the birthplace of my own power.