The new co-emperor became known by the name he had intended—Dragases.
Since his time as Despot of Morea, he had used his mother’s surname, and that was the name by which foreigners had come to know him.
He himself used Dragases more often than Konstantinos, his given name, even in official documents, so it was inevitable. Yet, to most people, what name he bore hardly mattered.
With the rise of Emperor Dragases, Morea’s growth, Epirus’s subjugation, and the reclamation of the Larissa region overturned what had long seemed like a hopeless situation for Greece.
The Ottomans remained powerful, but that only made the emperor who had managed to gather such forces in opposition stand out all the more.
Under Emperor Dragases’ name, the state was reorganized, and for the first time, the word reconstruction seemed to carry real weight.
Meanwhile, the West was undergoing a string of changes of its own.
The most important among them was the collapse of the Crusade against the Hussites in Bohemia—a development that left the emperor speechless when he heard the news from Sophia.
After all, it had been the Pope himself who had suggested him to come, even alone if he had to.
The current pope, no less, had deep ties with Sigismund, who ground his teeth at the very mention of the Hussites.
When the emperor voiced his doubt, Sophia explained with a confident smile what she had discovered.
“It seems that very few rulers actually responded to the pope’s call. After all, it’s a war that’s already ended in failure several times. No one saw the need to overextend. The pope tried to stir the pot by bringing you—pardon me, Your Majesty—into it, but by then, it was already too late.”
“I suppose there really wasn’t anyone left to answer the call…”
The emperor could only nod in response to Sophia’s words.
The Hundred Years’ War was still decades from ending, giving neither England nor France any reason to intervene.
The Holy Roman Empire was still in political disarray, so the electors and minor lords in Germany wouldn’t move either.
And as for the Christian nations of Eastern Europe, who bore the brunt of the Ottoman threat—needless to say, they had other priorities.
It seemed the papacy had hoped to turn the tide by crowning the young emperor who had earned glory fighting infidels and using his coronation to draw support for a new crusade—but in the end, that effort had failed.
John had named Dragases as co-emperor, and the capital had accepted itself to a harsh, patient wait.
“For the time being, I doubt we’ll have the luxury of paying attention to Western affairs.”
Even if the Pope took offense at Emperor Dragases, there was little to be done.
A crusade was important, yes—but mending the empire’s internal divisions came first.
Besides, there were too many pressing matters to deal with. It was time to evaluate whether the reforms he had enacted were moving in the right direction.
At the same time, he had to ensure that the newly reclaimed territories were being properly stabilized. Most importantly of all, this coronation had proceeded in a highly unusual fashion.
“Still,” Sophia added, “I must say that diplomatically, this leaves Your Majesty in a rather awkward position. I understand that for the empire, speed was essential—but not a single foreign envoy attended your coronation. And since many of the ceremonial rites were skipped, questions may arise later about your legitimacy.”
Owing to the urgency, the only foreigners present at the ceremony were resident merchants from Venice and Genoa.
Moreover, even before his ascension, the emperor had taken a firm stance regarding the coronation: the budget allocated to the event was to be cut to the bare minimum.
Even for a declining empire, such decisions were not taken lightly, especially when coronations were symbolic affirmations of national identity.
Yet the emperor merely shook his head.
“What this nation needs now is not hollow glory, madam. While the Ottomans are momentarily distracted, the wisest course is to repair what we can of the fallen Theodosian Walls.”
The prince’s decision repurposed what was originally intended for the coronation.
The gems meant to adorn his imperial crown became stones for the walls. The silks and gold thread that would have embroidered his robes were transformed into glue, binding stone to stone in the reconstruction effort.
It was nowhere near enough to restore the full majesty of the ancient triple walls—but the mere fact that even a single stone had gone toward their rebuilding carried weight.
Of course, the outside world would interpret such a humble coronation exactly as expected.
A coronation is not just ritual—it is a display of a monarch’s authority and power. Sophia’s concerns were not wrong. Even so, the emperor had chosen walls over ceremony.
That choice conveyed only one message.
“…Was it for the people of the capital, who waited for you?”
“…And it was also my way of expressing enmity toward the Ottomans. Even if we remain a vassal for now, this was the most effective way to prove we haven’t abandoned the struggle.”
As the emperor said, the repair of the Theodosian Walls carried many layers of meaning.
Many challengers throughout history had given up when faced with their towering might. Even the Ottomans—history’s chosen victors—were no exception. They had only broken through after multiple attempts.
For that reason, they had exerted immense pressure to ensure the Empire would never restore them.
And now, Emperor Dragases had made his stance clear the moment he took the throne—by beginning repairs on those very walls.
The importance of the Crusade had not changed.
Without foreign assistance, the Empire could not survive.
But if it relied solely on that aid—clinging to it and nothing else—it would collapse long before that help ever arrived.
The people needed to be united, not by the faded glory of the past, but by belief in a future.
Even so, Sophia could not feel at ease.
In all of Greece, among the Christian powers bordering the Ottomans, only Emperor Dragases held any real strength to oppose them.
After two grueling wars, Serbia had barely managed to preserve its territory thanks to Hungary’s aid, and was now in dire need of the emperor’s support.
It was only natural that she posed the question:
“Is there a place for the Serbians as well, among those who will stand with you in this ‘struggle’?”
And the emperor’s reply was clear.
“Of course, madam.”
“Well, that’s at least a relief.”
Given his past conduct, she couldn’t fully trust him, but the emperor was not one to make false promises—even if he chose silence instead.
Sophia couldn’t help but trust his words, despite her doubts.
Still, she had no intention of clinging to a single promise that time might soon erase.
She acted swiftly once her mind was made up.
Placing both arms on the table between them, Sophia smiled.
“Then when will you have a proper wedding?”
“Is being Empress not enough?”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
Sophia advanced without hesitation, unfazed by the emperor’s cold dismissal.
To him, her interest was only uncomfortable.
From the start, their betrothal had been a purely strategic alliance—one he endured for the sake of diplomacy, despite her brazen declaration in their first meeting that she would take lovers openly.
He had even accepted the humiliating terms so he could one day use them as grounds to cast her aside.
Given the time they had spent together, his eyes had changed—now wary, like someone preparing for nightfall.
But even that vigilance wasn’t enough to fend her off.
Sophia met his gaze with a smile that was hard to read—half mockery, half amusement.
“Sitting beside you is bound to be far more interesting than just being Empress.”
“I may allow you to be Empress, madam, but I’ve made it clear: you will never be Empress Dowager.”
“Oh, I’m not aiming for that. I simply want to know where Serbia will stand, at the end of your struggle.”
She had noticed something.
The emperor went silent at once, aware that she had sensed the truth.
But Sophia didn’t back down—she was already fairly certain.
Especially after witnessing the new order that had begun to take shape following the war.
The Aegean had undergone massive upheaval after the conflict with the Ottomans.
And as that transformation unfolded, the interests of the various powers collided violently—even as they became ever more entangled.
Like threads twisted together to form a tangled net.
“Hehehe…”
“That’s not a very reassuring laugh.”
“I’m just proud of my own instincts, that is all. Don’t be too bothered, Your Majesty. I merely…”
A dark impulse stirred in Sophia.
The keen sense of a woman drawn to power had risen to the surface.
But it wasn’t only ambition that moved her—so she could speak in a cheerful tone.
“I just want to be the one closest to you, to see where you’ll end up at the end of this fight.”
“…You’re getting stranger by the day.”
At last, the emperor lost his patience and abandoned formalities entirely. Even so, Sophia remained as composed and satisfied as ever.
( TL : The wall around Constantinople, Theodosian Walls was so resilience that it withstood 53 days of continuous bombardment before finally being breached and the Ottomans didn’t even breached from the walls. One of the generals had forgot to lock one of the gates which the Ottomans noticed and came through the gate. That’s just wow )
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