I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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The Butterfly Effect (2)

Charles V maintained a rigid posture.

Having thoroughly learned etiquette as a member of the royal family since childhood, even his stillness exuded grace.

He didn’t even flinch at the pungent smell of oil; when there was a knock, he raised his hand.

“Let’s take a short break.”

At Charles’s words, Titian Vecellio set down his brush.

He had painted many noble subjects before, but this one was on a different level, and even a small stroke of the brush made him sweat.

As he wiped the sweat from his brow, the door opened, and attendants bowed to Charles.

“I have brought the paintings you ordered.”

“Good job. Bring them here.”

Titian gulped as he watched the paintings pass before him.

While he was confident in his skills, it was reputation that mattered when commissioned by a king.

Those two paintings had helped bolster his still-lacking fame, and Titian cast a worried glance.

“Titian, there’s nothing to be anxious about. As promised, the discussions about this painting will not leak out.”

“I understand.”

Once he had come this far, there was no option to retreat.

Charles shifted his gaze away from Titian and inspected the first painting with great interest, stroking his beard.

“So this is what he looks like, this Yusuf fellow.”

Dressed in a turban and leaning on a staff, Yusuf was handsome enough to evoke a twinge of jealousy, but more importantly, there was an aura emanating from the painting.

His tightly shut lips and arrogantly piercing green eyes felt utterly natural.

Even just by viewing the portrait, it was clear his accumulated achievements were no small feat.

“Titian, how closely does this painting resemble him? Aren’t there many other paintings being passed around claiming to be his likeness?”

An incident occurred in Venice where a printer faced punishment for infringement, yet oddly enough, this led to Yusuf’s book spreading rapidly throughout Europe.

It even reached England across the sea, and people’s curiosity naturally led them to the story’s protagonist.

Although the faces of the women in the tales were unidentifiable, thankfully, there were portraits of Yusuf all over the Ottoman lands, and painters commissioned by the nobility had imitated his likeness.

“It may sound rude, but comparing my painting with those shabby imitations is an insult to my work.”

“Enough. A painter should have that much pride. How similar can a painting based solely on memory really be?”

It was inconceivable to allow imitation of the sacred Padishah’s portrait, as capture would mean slavery.

The most one could do was painstakingly observe to create a painting back in their homeland; how close could it truly be?

‘It would be better if it weren’t even nearly the same.’

There were instances when artists reflected the client’s opinions and drew them in a state of undress or in the guise of a demon.

In the end, those eager to see a proper likeness ventured to the Ottoman realm just to view the portrait.

“It’s been replicated directly from the portrait presented to the Padishah, so you can consider it nearly identical.”

“Is that so? This really is his true face, huh?”

Though there were many nobles and royals who despised Yusuf as the infidel emperor, Charles well understood that deep down, they hid their fears.

‘I feel the same way.’

He had inherited vast territories and crowned himself Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, but just recently, he had been wrestling with the rebellion in Spain.

Charles was painfully aware of how impressive it was to govern a massive territory like the Ottoman Empire without major issues.

“And this is the portrait of his daughter.”

For the first time, Charles felt entranced by a mere portrait.

As he stared intently at the face of the radiant girl, he asked in a slightly trembling voice.

“…How closely does this painting resemble her?”

“I’m terribly sorry, but I did not paint her directly. I painted this after viewing a sculpture of the princess.”

“I see.”

Not hiding his disappointment, Charles’s demeanor prompted Titian to quickly interject.

“However, when I heard about Michelangelo’s story of sculpting her, I can assure you, she must be even more stunning in person.”

“Did you not say you had not seen her in reality?”

“Due to the hijab, I could not fully view her face, but I did have a brief conversation with her. Even with the hijab, it was hard to conceal her beauty.”

Though Charles remained skeptical, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the painting.

After diligently observing for some time, Charles turned to the attendant and asked.

“What would happen if I announced my marriage to an Ottoman princess?”

“Your Majesty?!”

“I’m joking. Just joking. Frustrated by the uncertain engagement with Portugal, I was merely speaking aloud.”

Portugal was undergoing tremendous growth as they opened trade routes to the East, but misfortunes had been relentless.

The former king, Manuel, died from the Black Plague, and shortly after João ascended the throne, news came that a fleet sent to India had vanished.

‘It’s certainly not damage that can be recovered in the short term.’

If it had only ended with trade being restricted, it would have been one thing, but losing so many ships was catastrophic.

Portugal was thrown into chaos, with values plummeting and engagements becoming uncertain.

“Although she is an infidel princess, I thought perhaps we could convert her and proceed with the engagement. The emperor seems open to Christianity, so conversion wouldn’t be impossible, right?”

“Regardless of the Ottoman reaction, the domestic backlash would be considerable.”

“That’s why I said it was a joke.”

With a light wave of his hand, Charles clicked his tongue while pondering Portugal.

“Not only did they suffer defeat, but multiple ships were captured too? Pathetic. They have no courage to self-destruct.”

As Charles clicked his tongue, a hurried voice reached him, and a nobleman who gained permission to enter bowed deeply.

“Your Majesty, we have confirmed the whereabouts of the Magellan fleet that departed for the Malacca Archipelago.”

Charles’s face initially brightened, but it soon contorted in despair upon hearing the rest of the news.

“Reportedly, they were captured near Malacca by the Ottoman Army and taken to Constantinople.”

Just moments ago, while musing on capture and self-destruction, Charles’s face turned red as he declared.

“Prepare to send an envoy.”

The ones tasked with the order all departed, and Charles let out a deep sigh as he gazed at the painting.

“Perhaps it would be better to push for a real engagement…”

Left in an uncomfortable position, Titian rolled his eyes.

*

Yusuf scrunched his face at the news from Europe.

“It seems time has passed. Seeing that they have the gall to send an envoy to me. Should I see some blood after a long time?”

Five years ago, if someone had said they were going to the Ottomans as an envoy, they would have written their will ahead of time.

“I hope Prince Kasim grows up soon.”

Remembering the brutal history of envoys, Suleiman replied, and Yusuf nodded.

“I think so too. He’s slack and cunning; he might excel more than I.”

“Your Majesty, I am right here.”

Kasim, who seemed hurt, lowered his head as Yusuf clicked his tongue.

“You’re far from deceiving your father. You need to learn more from the dignitaries around you.”

Though he was skilled at concealing emotions for a 13-year-old, he was still far from outwitting Yusuf’s keen eyes.

Under Yusuf’s scrutinizing gaze, Kasim scratched his cheek.

“Kasim, while it’s good to present yourself well, you must not become an untrustworthy scoundrel.”

“I will bear that in mind.”

Bowing his head with a serious expression uncharacteristic of his age, Kasim prompted a gentle smile from Yusuf.

“So, are you still taking trips to the slave market?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Alright then. It is an age where one is likely to be curious. Suleiman is actually better than you, despite being much younger, Kasim.”

“Your Majesty, I…”

Suleiman muttered in discontent, caught in the crossfire.

“Before it’s too late, shouldn’t you look into the next successor?”

“I have a lot of work on my plate and will take my time with it.”

“Suleiman.”

At the softly called name, Suleiman raised his head to see Yusuf smiling kindly.

“There’s no need to gauge my reaction. My authority isn’t so flimsy as to feel threatened by you.”

Even stripped of the title of Şehzade, he remained a prince.

Given that he was alive thanks to Yusuf’s grace, his life could be snatched away anytime.

Suleiman replied in a firm tone to Yusuf’s words.

“I do not think it a waste of the life that Your Majesty has generously spared. I merely worry that I might cause Your Majesty the slightest trouble.”

“If that’s your concern, there’s no need. Haven’t you heard how unfortunate it is not to have a child who can take over your burdens?”

That saying dated back to Cairo.

“Or do you have a cherished woman hidden in your heart? Perhaps Hürrem?”

At Yusuf’s teasing words, Suleiman’s face stiffened.

“Absolutely not. I will handle finding a spouse on my own.”

He had half-considered slyly bringing Hürrem into the mix, but Suleiman replied resolutely.

It seemed the unpleasant memories of hastily rewriting a poorly written letter were still fresh in his mind.

“If that’s what you think, then so be it.”

Since Suleiman had rejected, it seemed Hürrem would have to be set aside.

He had built his fame while writing about matters related to him, so it felt too much to pass it on to another official.

‘Perhaps this time, I might have a child.’

So far, he had only five children. Compared to the number of women he had taken, that was far too few, and Yusuf looked for the fault in luck.

All five of his children had exceptional talents, as if a child with mediocre talent simply wouldn’t be born.

Though, of course, the busy workload was a contributing factor.

“If you cannot find an appropriate woman, do let me know. Do not just drag it out for no reason.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

After the succession war, Selim’s image had fallen into disgrace, and the lingering influence of that still affected the acquitted Suleiman.

As he thought to assist him a little, a voice interrupted.

“Your Majesty! There’s urgent news to report.”

“Come in.”

Once given leave by Yusuf, the attendant entered the audience room and bowed.

Taking the paper from the attendant, Yusuf chuckled.

“Requesting to borrow pirates?”

The French had requested to borrow Barbary Pirates.

*

It was a tremendous shock for Joseon that Ganghwa Island, which was close to Hanyang and the entrance of the Han River, had been plundered.

Although quite some time had passed since the pillaging, the dark atmosphere flowing in the court represented it well.

“Ha, it appears the navy, which aimed to stop the enemy’s southward advance, has only suffered more damage. Isn’t that right, Prime Minister?”

At Jungjong’s question, Namgon bowed his head.

“There were limitations with the merchant vessels.”

When using rice boats that transported less than 800 sacks of rice for military purposes, they were referred to as merchant vessels, and the largest among them, the daemangsul, could carry up to 80 soldiers.

Other officials echoed Namgon’s words.

“Even the Japanese vessels are now using significantly larger ships than merchant vessels. It was insufficient to catch their ships.”

“The merchant vessels were modified rice boats, making them too slow to catch the enemy’s ships.”

“I’m not looking for excuses! I’m frustrated! Simply frustrated!”

With the samurai already tormenting them, it was infuriating to let those barbaric fellows from the distant West pillage without resistance.

Feeling a headache, Jungjong asked.

“So who was the enemy?”

There was much debate regarding the name of the newly emerged enemy.

Some said they were barbarians from the West, calling them “Seoi,” while others claimed they had come through the South Man.

Of course, the exact name hadn’t yet been decided.

“From what I’ve heard, they are pirates operating beyond the South Man.”

This explained why they had not been provided with water and provisions when they first arrived, and murmurs were heard from various corners.

“Seems like there are pirates just like the Japanese, even in such a distant land.”

“Vile beasts are everywhere.”

Raising his hand to silence the murmurs, Jungjong asked.

“What was their purpose in coming to our land?”

“According to reports, they fled from a great empire beyond the South Man.”

Hearing that they attacked fleeing ones stirred both anger and curiosity in him about this great empire.

“So what’s the enemy’s current location?”

“It’s been reported that they were driven away from trade with the Japanese and moved northeast.”

“How strange.”

It felt peculiar that someone who had fled from the West would vanish in the East.

After pondering for some time, Jungjong made a decision.

“We must send an envoy to Ming.”