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Bosphorus Rose

Chapter 8

After breakfast that day, Muhsine barely spoke to her husband. Instead, she spent her time on the piano in the grand sitting room. She was talented, Murad had to say and he didn't mind the melodious music wafted through the seaside mansion. She told him she was taught by her French tutor back when she was a girl.

It was typical of wealthy families to tutor their children with European governesses, especially fashionable and Western-oriented families. Muhsine's was one of them.

At around eleven, Murad begun to get ready to head out. It was a Thursday, one of the four days of the week that had been agreed within his family where he did not have to travel to manage the foundation in Uskudar. He was still in charge of it, as entrusted to him by his venerable uncle, but the gaps in daily management was filled in by Azemet and Fatima.

Murad missed spending time with his brother and cousins. Now he would only see them at the foundation a few times a week. He shook off his complaints as he put on his waistcoat and trousers. He shouldn't be sulking, especially after he promised Muhsine that he would accompany her to the tailor in Pera.

Ismail Celebi's family had been invited to the New Year's festival hosted by the sultan at the grand Dolmabahce palace. It was a yearly affair, and the venerable scholar, his wife and all five of the children would be invited to the seaside palace. This time however, Murad wouldn't be travelling with them. The family now included Muhsine, who would be attending with her husband. They would meet the rest of the family at the palace itself.

That day, Murad and his wife were to get fitted with their new outfits for the occasion. It had been a couple years since he had a new suit for himself. It wasn't like Ismail Celebi couldn't afford it, but Murad already had plenty of suits, jackets and waistcoats in his wardrobe. It was a bit silly, Murad had to admit, but he felt like he needed to buy his own suit. Especially now that he was

Murad missed spending time with his brother and cousins. Now he would only see them at the foundation a few times a week. He shook off his complaints as he put on his waistcoat and trousers. He styled his hair with pomade, before parting it with a silver-handled comb. He looked at himself in the mirror, adjusting his collar as he tried to look his best.

Murad had never been too flashy, but going out into the city he had to at the very least look presentable. He ran his fingers down his cheek, feeling his stubble graze against his skin. He had never really been able to grow his beard fully like Azemet, and all he managed to muster was a scruffy stubble. He wondered how his brother was doing. The last time they had met was a few days ago, and Murad noticed that he had Fatima's handkerchief with him. Murad couldn't help but smile to himself.

At least he was in love. At least he had someone he had feelings for.

Murad waited for Muhsine by the carriage. She arrived not long after, dressed in a emerald green feraçe trimed with lace on its hem, its silk fabric shimmering in the sunlight. Her gauze veil was thin, wrapped around her face, barely concealing anything. Her black hair, parted in the center and pushed to the back into a bun, was nearly bursting out from underneath her veil. She carried with her a purse and a folded parasol.

"Shall we go then?" she had asked as she approached Murad, her moving lips visible underneath her veil.

Murad only nodded as he opened the door for her, letting his wife in first. He got in afterwards, and closed the carriage door behind him. They had sat facing each other inside the carriage each one of them having one half of the carriage for themselves. Murad sighed as he leaned back against the seat. It was a good twenty minutes to Pera and being in such a small enclosed space with Muhsine was a bit terrifying. Admittedly, he was getting used to it.

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