The iron gates of Yildiz's manor stood outside the Taksim square and Istanbul, far away from the public eyes, away from the people. Not even an unidentified fly could go past the heavily armed atmosphere. As guards stood by, wearing crisp black attire, fingers pressed against earphones. Their eyes darted which were hidden by the black glasses they wore--as if to not give away a breath. Inside were long, elongated hallways painted in brown gold with pristine marble floors which were then pressed down along Venta black tiles. The manor shone with its elaborate ornaments and the chandelier that hung above in the middle which complimented its already marvelous grandeur. The corridors were etched with past events, it whispered of scandals, betrayals.
Though within this cold atmosphere--The laughs of Ayse bounced out. The edges of her magenta chiffon veil to her shoulders as she leaned over to feed a kitten. Its sapphire-marble eyes fluttered at her, making her giggle softly as she took it in her arms. Softly cradling it alike a child.
To her right stood by Zehra, her maid, her friend in this palace. She clasped her arms and watched her madam act alike a child, her lips curled.
Ayse gazed at Zehra, smiling graciously.
Then, a guard came from behind, his eyes were low, on the ground as she spoke with command,