The red sun of Istanbul

      The night was falling on Istanbul. The sunset was fading, and the red sun was sinking below the horizon.       Handan Sultan was sitting on an ottoman in her chambers… or rather, the chambers were not hers, but those of the sultans who, like her now, were at the will of the padishah outside the main palace and the heart of the empire — Topkapi. Her heart was beating with indomitable force in the young sultana’s chest, like taut strings ready to burst with bitterness and love. The gaze of her soul was frozen in the invisible shackles of the past. “How fast time flies,” she thought, and it was as if she saw youth fading away, replaced by shadows of longing and anxiety.       Handan raised her head. In the sunset she saw the splendor and luxury of the rooms, worthy of the Padishah’s mother, but they could not dispel the darkness that enveloped her heart.       “I put everything I had into him, I gave all of myself to my son.… I taught him to write and read when he was very young, I was his protector, his most devoted supporter. But what did I get in return? Intrigues, palace games, betrayal, even from those who should be my allies. I was protecting my lion’s future, but now who will protect me from loneliness and fears?”       Handan’s eyes blurred with tears, but no one saw it, and no one heard her.       “I feel like time is running out. It’s running like sand through my fingers… and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. It’s sad to be a mother when your own son starts seeing you as just a shadow. And how hard it is to step back when life demands it! But I won’t give up! I will wait, and one day my patience will be rewarded. And I’ll be back. I will be stronger than before!”       The night enveloped the palace. Handan lowered her head and turned to the window. In the distance, the red sun of Istanbul was burning down below the horizon.