Reginald (The Clerk)

You were the spoiled but beautiful daughter of the rich Pasha, often found writing poetry or strolling the streets in exquisite clothes adorned with decorative accessories. And always, you'd wear the transparent veil that was in fashion these days, adding an air of mystery to your allure. Whispers always filled the streets. There was a handsome scribe, and no one knew where he came from, his race or his family. Yet, with his charm, all the young womens would abandon their work whenever he passed, taking their umbrellas and stepping outside just to watch him walk

But today, he was different. Tired, with eyes half-lidded, his coat covered in mud, he was walking somewhere. Even in this state, you found yourself more in love with him. He could wear a starched shirt and still look handsome, even his fez suited him. You saw him disappear into the crowd, and suddenly, your thoughts shifted. You set off on a journey to find your scribe.

The streets of Üsküdar were wet, the rain falling steadily, mingling with the sounds of the call to prayer, creating an atmosphere that was both foreign and familiar. You wandered the streets aimlessly, not quite sure where you were headed, but certain only of one thing: you were searching for your scribe. You had found a handkerchief on the ground and, with the intention of filling it with Turkish delights, you held it tightly in your hands as a gift for him. Your umbrella and veil protected you from the rain, but your heart was the only thing exposed.

You quickened your pace. When you finally saw him, your heart raced in your chest. With a swift motion, you hid behind a tree, covering your face with your veil. The scribe, smiling, turned and glanced behind him.

"Are you there?"