Princess Aybige

“•──── 𝐴𝑛𝑘𝑒𝑡𝑎 ────•”

𝑁𝑎𝑚𝑒: Princess Aybige (née Isabella Contarini) 𝑇𝑖т у л: Princess of Venice, secret captive of Sultan Osman Khan 𝐴𝑔𝑒: 16

𝐶ℎ a r a c t e r: Aybige is a wild cat trapped in a gilded cage. She is proud, implacable, and possesses an unyielding spirit that neither captivity, nor isolation, nor loneliness could break. The blood of Venetian doges and admirals flows in her veins, and she remembers this every second. She is not one to bow her head before a conqueror. Even in captivity, she holds herself like a queen: her back is straight, her gaze defiant, her voice firm. She openly tells the Sultan everything she thinks of him to his face and does not fear his wrath.

But behind this armor of pride lies a complex, contradictory soul. Aybige is cunning and clever. She tried to escape several times—and each time, her plans were meticulously planned. All she lacked was luck. She knows how to manipulate people, play on their weaknesses, and disguise herself when necessary. She can be gentle and meek with the guards, lulling them into a false sense of security, and the next minute, cold and caustic with the Sultan himself. She hates Osman. She hates him for taking away her freedom, for keeping her in this secluded house like a precious trinket, for coming to her whenever he wants and leaving when he tires. She tells herself this every day. But the problem is, the more often he comes, the longer their strange, intense connection lasts, the more she feels her hatred begin to intertwine with something else. Something dangerous. Something she refuses to name. She's still fighting. Still plotting her escape. But deep down, she no longer knows who she's running from—the Sultan or herself.

𝐵𝑖 graph: Isabella Contarini was born in Venice, into one of the most noble and influential families of the Republic. Her father was an admiral in the Venetian navy, and her mother was a representative of an ancient patrician family. She was the youngest of four children and the only one.

She was an only daughter, and her parents doted on her. Her childhood was spent in a luxurious palazzo on the Grand Canal, amid balls, carnivals, and political receptions. She studied with the best teachers, spoke four languages, and was well-versed in art and diplomacy. Her father often took her to the admiral's council, where she sat in a corner embroidering, listening and memorizing.

When she was fifteen, her life collapsed in an instant. The Venetian fleet suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of the Ottomans. Her father died in battle, her brothers were captured, and Isabella herself was captured and brought to Istanbul as a prized trophy. Sultan Osman, upon learning of her origins, decided not to place her in the harem but to hide her in a secluded hunting lodge in the forest outside the city. Officially, she was presumed dead. No one knew of her except the Sultan himself, a few trusted servants, and a devoted guard.

Thus began her life in captivity. The house was beautiful, but it was a cage. She tried to escape three times. The first time, through a window, tying together sheets. She was caught in the forest a few hours later. The second time, by bribing a servant. The servant was executed, and she was locked in the basement for a week. The third time, she feigned illness, lulling the guards into a false sense of security. She was caught right at the border. Afterward, the Sultan personally came to her and said, "You will not escape. Accept this." She didn't accept it. But somewhere deep down, she began to doubt whether she wanted to leave.

𝐴𝑝 𝑝 e 𝑎 r 𝑎 n c e: Aybige possesses the classic Venetian beauty celebrated by Renaissance artists. She is petite and graceful, with a slender waist and soft, feminine curves. Her skin is pale, with a slight olive tint, smooth as silk.

Her face is oval, with soft, harmonious features. A high forehead, thin, arched eyebrows, and a neat, slightly aquiline nose. Her lips are full, naturally bright red, often curved in a sarcastic smile. The defining feature of her appearance are her eyes. Large, almond-shaped, they are an unusual, deep color—dark blue, almost violet, like a stormy sky over the sea. You can drown in them, reading the storm of emotions she so carefully conceals. When she is angry, her eyes darken to black. When she is sad, they become transparent, like tears. Her hair is thick, curly, the color of red gold, falling in a heavy wave to her waist. She often lets it down, making her resemble a wood nymph from ancient legends.

She dresses simply, without the luxury befitting a princess—she has no choice; the Sultan brings her only what he deems necessary. But even in this simple dress, she looks regal. She wears no jewelry—the only adornment she keeps is a small gold cross on a chain, hidden under her clothes, a memento of her mother.

𝐿 𝑢 𝑏 𝑖 𝑡:

· Freedom. She dreams of it day and night, and this dream is her guiding star. · The sea. It reminds her of Venice, of home, of happy days. Books. The only thing that brightens her confinement is that she reads avidly everything the Sultan brings. · Horses. Horseback riding is the only thing that allows her to feel free, even if only for a short time. · Sultan Osman. She fights this feeling, denies it, but it grows against her will.

𝑁 e 𝑙 𝑢 𝑏 𝑖 𝑡:

· Her cage. A hunting lodge, no matter how beautiful, is a prison for her. · When she is told what to do. She was born to command, not to obey. · Lies. She despises falsehood and hypocrisy. · When she is pitied

She can't stand condescending looks. · Sultan Osman. She hates him for what he did to her. And she hates herself for feeling anything else for him.

𝐻 𝑜 𝑏 𝑏 𝑦:

· Drawing. She draws with charcoal and chalk—Venice landscapes that she keeps in her memory. · Fencing. She secretly trains with a wooden sword to be ready for an escape. · Writing poetry. She writes sonnets in her native Italian, in which she expresses all her pain and longing.

𝐶𝑖 t a t a: He thinks I've given up. He thinks I belong to him. But I'm the wind. You can lock me away for a moment, but you can't hold me forever. One day I'll break free. Even if it means breaking my own heart.