The Blachernae Palace was enveloped in an indescribable silence. Marching down the road was the army of Prince Konstantinos—three hundred strong, advancing with confidence, unchallenged, as the citizens cheered them on. The court nobles had begun to grasp the intentions behind Konstantinos’s arrival.
“Is the marriage to the Kantakouzenos family just a stepping stone?”
Among those who realized Konstantinos’s scheme was the young Sphrantzes, who had inherited the role of the emperor’s secretary. He understood why the prince had taken such bold actions, knowing full well that Konstantinos was the strongest contender for succession.
Konstantinos had nearly been appointed as the prince of Selymbria, the closest region to the capital. Regardless of Emperor Manuel’s current feelings, the fact remained that Konstantinos was second only to John in the line of succession. Moreover, as the voices clamouring for a capable ruler grew louder, the prince who had reclaimed the Peloponnesian Peninsula was naturally favoured.
“Are you truly challenging the throne head-on, my prince?”
The problem lay in the fact that John had already been named co-emperor. Under such circumstances, uniting with the leading noble family, the Kantakouzenos, would inevitably be seen as a threat. Even the inexperienced young Sphrantzes could predict the potential consequences, and the seasoned nobles were certainly aware as well.
“He must believe he’s come of age now.” “Chancellor.”
Sphrantzes bowed respectfully at the sound of the voice behind him. It was Notaras, the venerable chancellor trusted by Manuel II. His calm gaze was fixed on the approaching prince.
“The division of power, painstakingly decided by His Majesty after much toil and concern, has been rendered meaningless. The consolidated rule of Morea and the transfer of Achaea’s governance… too much power has fallen into Prince Konstantinos’s hands.”
“When do you think the civil war will break out?”
Sphrantzes’s blunt question made Notaras frown. Although competent, Sphrantzes’s tendency to probe sensitive issues sharply could prove dangerous in the future. But given the longstanding enmity between their families, Notaras felt no need to offer caution and continued speaking slowly.
“Not yet. At least not until the Turks have been driven out.” “His Majesty will not see his wishes fulfilled in the end.”
It was about Manuel II, the aging emperor who had spent his later years hoping his children would not be sacrificed in a tragedy of fratricide. Yet it was precisely his most favored son who had shattered that hope.
“He must be deeply heartbroken. His Majesty already knows what lies ahead. He just hopes the turmoil he’s been dreading won’t occur until after he’s gone.” “I hope this marriage brings some comfort to His Majesty.”
Yes, it must. Notaras nodded. Meanwhile, the young Sphrantzes was lost in thought. Who would ascend to the throne after Manuel II?
Who would be the most fitting ruler? What should he do when the civil war inevitably broke out? The answers did not come easily.
“You’ve grown much since I last saw you.”
Sphrantzes was jolted from his thoughts by the nostalgic tone of Notaras’s voice. Taking care not to disturb the chancellor’s reflections, he moved cautiously towards the balcony railing, where he could see the figure at the forefront of the procession.
His armor, devoid of ornate decorations or emblems, seemed to reflect the wearer’s character. Apart from the cross engraved on the chest plate and the red cloak draped over his shoulders, everything gleamed in silver. Yet it was not pure silver—only a few parts were adorned with it.
“He looks as if he’s about to enter a battlefield.”
Prince Konstantinos’s demeanour differentiated sharply with that of the current co-emperor, John, who seemed a natural diplomat.
While John drew people in with his bright smile, Konstantinos’s steady sternness made them rely on him. Unlike his older brother’s gentle gaze, Konstantinos’s eyes were firm and resolute, clearly expressing his will.
It was evident that Konstantinos had more of a warrior’s nature than a politician’s. This observation was not unique to Sphrantzes.
“Prince Konstantinos has entered the palace!”
The eunuch’s announcement drew everyone’s attention to the corridor. Most of the nobles frowned. Was this ceremonial armor? To appear so heavily armed on such a joyous occasion? The nobles, who had expected a display of sociability and noble character, were disappointed.
“What’s the meaning of this? Appearing like that at his own wedding gathering?”
“Is he trying to intimidate us?”
Prince Konstantinos, too, regarded the nobles with a cool gaze. The mutual displeasure was palpable. The awkward standoff was finally broken by another voice.
“Welcome, Constantine.”
“It’s good to see you in good health.”
“Bring ceremonial robes for the prince. There’s much we need to discuss today—as brothers and as emperors.”
As Sphrantzes had sensed, while Prince Konstantinos exuded a somewhat reserved demeanour, John was the opposite. Much like the contrast between the declining capital and the rising Morea, the impressions the two left were strikingly different.
Prince Konstantinos’s calm, quiet gaze maintained calmness without stirring any waves, while the young emperor’s eyes sparkled with passionate energy. The prince’s tightly shut mouth, stern expression, and measured steps evoked the image of an monk enduring a spiritual journey. In contrast, young John, with his confident smile and graceful appearance, exuded a charm that proved he was fit for imperial robes. It was clear which of the two possessed more personal appeal—given the choice, everyone would choose John as a friend without hesitation.
However, if asked who they would want as a leader, the answer would be less clear.
The two brothers represented opposing styles of rulership. The prince was a ruler dedicated to administration, while the young emperor embodied ideological leadership. This stark difference naturally drew all eyes when the two stood together.
Prince Konstantinos glanced at the nobles, acknowledging John’s words. He realized they hadn’t yet grasped that he held the real power. Believing there was no need for further intimidation, Konstantinos quietly left the hall.
Moments later.
“You don’t seem fazed.”
John spoke first as they walked down the corridor, glancing at Konstantinos, who was now dressed in imperial robes. The brothers hadn’t spoken in nearly a decade. Aware of the awkwardness, John took the initiative, and Konstantinos nodded in response.
“I met with the citizens. Without your consideration, Your Majesty… brother, it would have taken much longer.”
There had been excited citizens along the march, but thanks to the imperial soldiers, any potential unrest was quickly subdued. Konstantinos was expressing his gratitude.
“Please understand them. The recent victory was a great encouragement for the empire.”
John was referring to the recapture of the Peloponnesian Peninsula. It had taken the empire a century to fulfill that long-held aspiration, and the citizens’ celebrations were inevitable.
John’s words conveyed this understanding. After a brief pause, John hesitated before continuing.
“…Constantine, I feel troubled that I’ve entrusted you with something I should have done myself.”
Constantine turned his gaze towards John’s back, and the young emperor offered a bitter smile.
“There was a time when I foolishly thought it better to submit to fate. And during that time, my remarkable younger brother accomplished great things.” By the time John’s words ended, the two had reached their destination.
Standing before the emperor’s office, John wore a regretful smile.
“I’ve made you come without even getting a proper look at your bride.”
“It’s nothing. Meeting Father first is the proper thing to do.”
Constantine responded formally, ensuring he upheld the politeness. Watching him, John’s expression suddenly grew serious.
“Constantine.”
This was not a familial discussion. Sensing the shift, Constantine turned, and John let out a deep sigh.
“There’s a reason this marriage was arranged so suddenly. I want you to be aware of that.”
“Can you tell me now?”
“Father, waiting beyond this door, will explain. It’s a complicated matter, not easy to explain. But if I were to put it plainly and clearly…”
John hesitated briefly, but it didn’t take long for him to continue.
“Know this—it’s time to draw your sword.”
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