Bosphorus Rose

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Bosphorus Rose

Chapter 6

The mosque complex was a rather humble structure in a rather humble neighbourhood. The main mosque building was made of stone, crowned with a dome while a towering minaret stood to its side. The rest of the buildings were wood – the soup kitchen, the small school and the administrative building. The mosque was separated from the soup kitchen by a courtyard, where there was a small gated garden open to the public during the daytime.

Iskender wasn't impressed, to be honest as Fatima showed him around. His estate at Nicomedia was much bigger. If he had the money to commission such a structure – which he did, he would've at least made it more grand. He would have to leave an impression. Ismail Celebi's mosque complex wasn't very grand nor impactful. He didn't even name it after himself.

He couldn't understand the religious sometimes. Why would someone do something so charitable and not want something from it? It was foolish, he thought.

But perhaps most importantly, he was disappointed that it wasn't Murad showing him around. He would've loved to listen to him talk. He would've loved to be able to tease him and make his cheeks go pink.

"Won't you show me around, boy?" Iskender had said once they alighted.

He walked towards Murad, but Fatima was quick to intercept him.

"Oh, Iskender Effendi," she called out. "The soup kitchen is right over here."

Iskender couldn't help but feel his heart sink as he watched Murad walk away with Azemet.

Murad was glad that he wasn't the one to deal with Iskender. Iskender made him very nervous.

But most importantly, he was also glad Fatima was out of the picture. Azemet couldn't help but worry over Fatima as he kept looking over his shoulder at the two of them heading towards the soup kitchen.

"Don't worry about her," Murad told his older brother. "She can take care of herself."

"You're right," Azemet sighed. "It's just that. . . I can't help it."

"You're in love with her," Murad said. "Of course you can't help it."

The two of them headed towards the kitchens, where the staff had begun to unpack the food and repack them into little packages to be distributed to the people around the neighbourhood. For those who came to the foundation itself, the food would be served hot. A small, curious crowd had already gathered outside the entrance.

Murad started to pack some himself. Each package had some pilaf, some meat, and some stuffed eggplants. In a smaller package he placed in the desserts. The staff tried to tell him that it was alright, that he was the bridegroom and he shouldn't be doing all this, but Murad insisted.

"They're right brother," Azemet said. "You need all the energy you have for later."

Murad still kept insisting on packing.

Azemet leaned in closer to his ear.

"Especially for tonight."

Azemet stepped away, watching as Murad's face turned beetroot. He frowned at him, before storming out of the kitchen.

The cook raised an eyebrow at Azemet, who responded with a shrug.

Murad had stepped out into the courtyard to get some fresh air. Azemet was quick to follow him.

"I told you not to talk about that!" Murad said, flustered.

"Come on," Azemet said, patting his shoulder. "I was just teasing you."