After a few days, the harem people stopped trying to investigate us, thank God. In the meanwhile, we have been attending the harem's "school" where we learn how to speak Turkish, play music, some form of arts, and dancing. It's not as bad as I thought it would be.

Of course, me being a super-special Spanish princess, I aced pretty everything they threw out. I could dance well, and I knew how to play many different instruments. As for languages, I have been grasping a lot. It's difficult but I am getting through it. Ottoman Turkish isn't that hard to speak, I find it somehow closer to my language than others I hear like Russian or Polish.

I learned new words like 

- nasılsınız, which means 'how are you?'

- Gunaydin, 'Good morning'

- Affedersin, 'I'm sorry'

And probably another 30-40 words. What I do find annoying is writing in Arabic. The strokes look beautiful, but writing right to left is so uncomfortable for me, and it's impossible for me to read. I don't put as much effort into it, I can tell, based on how often Nigar Kalfa rolls her eyes and sighs. 

She's like a maaajor prodigy, I hear she's only 28 or so and knows, both speaking and reading and writing, Russian, Persian, Arabic, Turkish, Polish, Mongol, and a few other languages on top of all the harem skills. I can only speak 3 or 4 languages, and write and read like 2 of them! I must learn from her.

~

The next morning, while practicing a traditional dance, Nigar Kalfa stopped in front of me. What does she want now?

 "You've improved," she said curtly. Her eyes swept over me as if evaluating whether I was worth more than a few words. "But your writing is still a disaster. You need to put in more effort."

I nodded, biting back the urge to roll my eyes. I genuinely didn't care about writing in scribbles, to be blunt. "I will, Nigar Kalfa," I said finally.

She stared at me for a long moment before finally nodding. "Good. If you want a future here, you'll need to be better than the rest."

I knew she was right, but it was hard not to feel like a failure. Being the best in my past life—back in España—had always come naturally. I had been praised for my talents, my intelligence, my birthright. But here, none of that mattered. 

No one cared about where I had come from or what titles I held. Heck, I was even considered a "slave" in their mind! All that mattered was whether I could prove myself useful, charming, and obedient. Wether that would kill me or not I can't say.

Later that day, Angelina, Elisabeth, and I gathered in a small alcove, away from the prying eyes of the other girls. It had become our little ritual—these moments where we could speak freely, even if just for a few minutes. "I'm getting tired of the constant training," Angelina said, stretching her arms above her head. "Oh dios, It's like we're being prepared for battle."

"In a way, we are," Elisabeth responded. "But the battlefield here isn't like the one outside. It's all about who can outsmart the others."

I nodded in agreement. "I'm starting to see that," I admitted. "It's not just about impressing the Sultan. It's about surviving long enough to get noticed."

Angelina laughed softly, though there was little humor in it. "Exactly. And the ones who get noticed aren't always the ones who are the most talented. Sometimes, it's the ones who know how to manipulate the situation."

"For real!" Elisabeth laughed along with her. 

Angelina's words stayed in my mind as I returned to my lessons. I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever be able to be successful in this strange world. But I had no choice—I had to try. My future depended on it. Especially if I wanted to go back home to my Padre the King, Madre, and Isabella. And the Duke of Aragon who surprisingly has not attempted to rescue me. Rude!

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A/N: Sorry for the short chapter! I just kind of wanted to get back in the mood with Zevki Sultan, since I hadn't updated in 2+ months. Please make sure to vote on every chapter and leave comments, I really appreciate it. Any ideas? Let me know.