And Afterwards
With his mother’s death, Prince Ahmed fled his younger brother, going to Adrianople, where he boldly declared himself sultan.
A civil war broke out, but though it took two years’ time, Prince Selim was in the end victorious.
To his small credit, Ahmed died fighting in that last battle.
Prince Korkut remained loyal to his father and his younger sibling, governing the Macedonian provinces.
Bayezit, now sixty-five and in worsening health, decided to resign the sultanate, naming Selim as his heir.
The new sultan’s uncle, Prince Jem, was now dead.
He had died in Naples of poison. It was rumored that the Borgia pope had seen to Jem’s demise at the request of Sultan Bayezit, whose patience had run out prior to his retirement.
As for Jem’s only son, Prince Amir, he had long ago disappeared from his home on the Black Sea along with his entire family.
Where they were, or if they even lived, was unknown.
Bayezit died shortly after his son’s reign began.
Selim was free to rule without interference of any kind, as he and his sons were the only male heirs to the throne now.
In the house of Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo, his wife, Orianna, had come to regret that she had not understood her eldest daughter’s great love for the Turkish sultan’s grandson.
She missed Bianca and the warm friendship that they had once shared.
Although Marco had made the effort to find and see his sister, bringing them word that she was happy and safe with her infidel, it brought no peace to Orianna.
And Bianca would never know that it was her own mother who had freed her from her first marriage by consorting with the family of the vengeful apothecary whose innocent niece had died at Rovere’s debauched hands.
It had been Orianna who had insisted to them that she deliver the fatal blow to their mutual enemy.
It was Orianna who had plunged the poisoned dagger into the chest of Sebastiano Rovere, killing him and freeing Bianca from his evil possession.
Of course, upon her return to Florence she had gone immediately to Santa Anna and confessed her sin to Father Bonamico.
The priest was shocked and briefly rendered speechless when the unrepentant Orianna said to him, “I will do whatever I must to protect my family, good Father. Even if it will endanger my immortal soul.” Bound by the oath of the confessional, Bonamico could not expose her.
Orianna had relieved her own small guilt at taking a human life by putting it on the elderly priest’s shoulders.
He hardly knew what penance to give her because he did understand her motive and secretly agreed with it.
Realizing that, he knew he would have to give himself a severe penance as well.
“Donate one hundred gold florins to Santa Maria del Fiore,” he finally said.
“And you will continue to do so each year on this date until your death, my daughter. I will pray for your soul and that you are not again driven to such an extreme.”
“Will you not pray for Rovere’s soul too?” she wickedly asked him.
“Even his two sons did not pay for Masses,” the priest said drily.
The silk merchant’s wife had then departed the confessional.
She and Giovanni had three other daughters to match.
She would be more careful the next time.
She would not make the same mistakes with Francesca, or Luciana, or Giulia as had been made with Bianca.
Wherever her eldest daughter was, Orianna hoped she was happy.
She would have been glad to know that in a place called El Dinut, Bianca, now called Azura, was indeed very happy with her prince and their daughter.
The kismet that Amir had promised Azura was even now fulfilling itself.