Chapter 35 – Dressing a Warrior in Silk
Viki cast a sideways glance at Murad and Balibey, then straightened with a sly smile playing on her lips. She adjusted her dress slightly and turned to Murad.
"I'm heading downstairs. I don't want to keep waiting too long. Tell him to hurry up, cousin," she said, her voice carrying a soft sting. Then she turned and walked out.
As the door closed behind her, Balibey's face darkened. A low grumble escaped through clenched teeth. His eyes briefly flared with anger, but in the presence of his sultan, he held his temper.
Murad, noting his reaction, smiled faintly. He spoke in a teasing tone, laced with amusement:
"Quite the energetic woman, isn't she, Balibey? She seems rather fond of you as well..."
Balibey flinched, shaking his head quickly, his voice tense:
"Please, my Sultan... God forbid..."
Murad chuckled softly, then shifted to a more serious tone:
"Joking aside... Be cautious during your reconnaissance. Keep an eye on Viki as well. We've only just met her—we can't trust anyone so soon. Watch her behavior, her words. Report back with your impressions."
Balibey nodded respectfully.
"As you command, my Sultan."
"Go now. Don't keep her waiting," Murad said with a smile.
Balibey offered a brief salute and left the room. He went next door to gather his belongings. Inside, Cafer lay on the bed, sharpening his daggers, while Kasım was seated cross-legged in lotus position, eyes shut in meditation.
Silently, Balibey opened his pack and began changing clothes. He chose one of the Venetian-style outfits they had acquired earlier—simple yet fitting. A thick tunic of subdued color and a short cloak to match. He dressed quickly and buckled his belt.
As he reached for the door, Cafer looked up and asked:
"Where to, Balibey?"
Balibey replied with a semi-serious tone:
"Reconnaissance. Stay here. Guard the Sultan."
He stepped out. On the ground floor of the inn, dimly lit by flickering lamps, he spotted Viki in a corner, sipping half-filled coffee. Her eyes immediately caught him entering.
Balibey approached the table and said curtly:
"I'm ready."
Viki's gaze swept him from head to toe, openly unimpressed.
"No. Absolutely not," she said.
Balibey frowned. "What's not?"
Viki stood up, brushing off her dress. "I'm not walking around with you dressed like that," she said mockingly. "You look like a peasant. Everyone will suspect you."
Balibey took a deep breath, biting back irritation.
"These are my simplest clothes. Ottoman attire would draw even more attention. This is the only way I blend in."
Viki sighed, then chuckled lightly.
"Come with me. We're getting you something proper."
She turned and strode toward the door. Balibey hesitated for a second. Internally, he repeated, "Patience, Balibey... she's the Sultan's cousin..." and followed her out.
She led the way, Balibey a few paces behind. As they passed through the narrow alleyways into the bustling streets, Venetian life unfurled before them. The sun was high, with plenty of daylight left, and the crisp Mediterranean breeze gently danced through the city.
Each step on the cobbled street brought different sounds, scents, and colors. Merchants shouted about their wares, street performers played melodies, and a mélange of languages filled the air. Leather boots, silk fabrics, spices, jewels—Venice's shopping district was like a stage, each corner its own scene.
Viki walked confidently, clearly knowing her destination. Balibey followed silently, scanning the surroundings. As a soldier, his presence had to be inconspicuous in such a crowd.
Eventually, they stopped in front of a grand window display. Behind the glass: elaborately embroidered coats, lace shirts, and silk scarves fit for nobility. Without hesitation, Viki entered. Balibey stepped in after her, still uneasy.
The boutique was spacious, elegant, and richly decorated. Neatly arranged garments lined the shelves, ornate mirrors shimmered on the walls, and perfume bottles added a sophisticated aroma.
A young clerk approached, smiling politely.
"Welcome, madam," he greeted her, then glanced at Balibey and frowned.
"Cheap garments are sold in the back streets. Nothing here is within your range."
Balibey's eyebrows furrowed, but he said nothing, holding in his anger. Viki calmly turned to the clerk.
"He's with me," she said sweetly but firmly. "I want something fine. Something that suits him."
The clerk blushed with embarrassment and bowed slightly.
"My apologies, madam. I didn't realize that he was with you."
"It's fine," she replied with a smile. "But be quick. He needs something worthy."
She crossed her legs and sat down gracefully while Balibey followed the clerk upstairs.
Moments later, he returned in a striking black outfit. A Venetian-style coat with golden buttons, puffed shoulders, a lace-collared shirt, fitted trousers, and polished black boots. At his waist, a small dagger remained tucked—his warrior identity intact.
Viki looked up. Her eyes traced him from head to toe, a flicker of admiration shining in them. Her cheeks colored slightly. "He's... handsome," she thought. But she quickly composed herself and stood.
"Now you're decent enough to be seen with," she said, a teasing smirk on her lips.
She walked out of the store. Before following, Balibey silently whispered to himself again:
"Patience, Balibey... Patience."
With a deep breath, he stepped out. As sunlight filtered through the Venetian canals, two silhouettes disappeared into the winding alleys, the reconnaissance mission finally underway.