Approximately two months had passed since the scandal in the capital.
Though I was somewhat exhausted from avoiding the nonstop weeping Ivania, those days were not spent in vain. Morea remained stable, and the military training progressed smoothly. As those two months went by, the inevitable finally arrived.
“Your Highness, the envoys from Serbia have arrived.”
“Sigh…”
Though I had never felt a desperate thirst for women, this was an unavoidable step to establish an alliance. Letting out a deep sigh, I changed into formal attire to receive the envoys.
The formal wear was a simple, clean design with only the bare minimum of luxury. If it were about representing an ideology, more extravagance might be appropriate. However, I was merely a prince of Morea for now.
With the devoted care of the attendants, I transformed into formal attire and headed to the banquet hall where a feast had been prepared in advance. Unlike usual, attendants accompanied me. Meeting foreign envoys necessitated a display of authority, no matter how reluctant I felt. As we walked down the corridor, an attendant spoke up.
“….Your Highness, if it is not too bold, may I ask a question?”
I had refrained from conversation, not wanting to inconvenience the attendants. Hence, it was rare for them to initiate conversation.
Curious about the matter, I nodded, prompting the maid to part her red lips.
“Did you perhaps encounter another maid last night…?”
A lively girl flashed through my mind. I vividly recalled her hesitating in the corridor, too afraid to deliver a letter to my strict and serious self. But the maid’s tone suggested something was amiss. Turning my head away indifferently, I warned her.
“I don’t know why you are asking such a question, but remember, any personal action will be met with appropriate punishment.”
“That’s not it, Your Highness!”
“Then what is the reason?”
Caught off guard by my sudden question, the maid fumbled, looking more suspicious by the moment. As I looked at her with a probing gaze for several seconds, she finally broke under the pressure, confessing in a flustered manner.
“The girl named Maria claimed the person she met at night was Your Highness… it seemed so.”
Had she been broadcasting it everywhere? It wasn’t surprising, though. A lively girl bragging about an unusual encounter wasn’t exactly a punishable offense.
“I’ll overlook it if it remains a secret.”
“Ah… Yes, understood.”
Her bewildered nod was amusing. If I had punished her for this, I’d become a tyrant whose notoriety would last for ages. How bad must my image be for such a reaction?
Smiling dryly at my mixed feelings of guilt, I finally caught sight of the audience chamber doors.
Beyond those doors awaited the princess of Serbia.
Judging by past events and the letters, she seemed like an exceptionally bold woman. As I pondered how to handle her, I couldn’t help but hope she would be a trustworthy ally.
//
Sophia, upon arriving in Morea’s capital—Mistra—was certain her expectations were met.
Amidst the bustling people and soldiers maintaining order, the citizens displayed no signs of unease despite the armed soldiers patrolling the streets. Was this truly a city of a crumbling empire?
“I’d heard that the principality was flourishing under the prince’s rule, but I didn’t expect this level of stability…”
The words, muttered absentmindedly by the retainer following her, reached Sophia’s own thoughts. While the prince’s military talent was known, his prowess in governance and administration was overwhelming. Unconsciously, Sophia found herself comparing Serbia with Morea.
‘It feels as if all of Father’s efforts were in vain… What have we been doing all this time?’
Her father, Stefan Lazarević, had struggled to recover from the aftermath of defeats for the past 20 years. Having supported him, Sophia immediately recognized the extraordinary nature of Morea and its prince, who had stabilized the region in less than a decade. Witnessing this, a renewed sense of confidence surged within Sophia.
“Indeed, Father, my choice was the right one.”
Confidence enveloped Sophia, amplifying her proud demeanor. Radiating her inherent beauty even more, Sophia proceeded to the court of Mistra with the envoys. However, her anticipation soon dissipated.
The stark and barren court, devoid of any significant art, twisted her brow. The cold surroundings seemed unworthy of a prince’s status.
Does he not value the dignity of a prince…?
A ruler, as a symbol of the nation and its ideology, should adorn and present themselves fittingly.
Regardless of the fallen empire’s state, he was still a prince and a legitimate power-holder of the empire. The capital’s court reflected the ruler’s prestige, yet it was left in such neglect.
“Even as an imperial prince, he may not fully grasp the weight of his responsibilities. That is something Your Highness can assist him with over time,” the retainer reassured, noticing Sophia’s displeasure.
Indeed, if the other party had shortcomings, it would magnify her influence. Envisioning the power that might be shared with her, Sophia followed the attendant into the banquet hall. Thankfully, the hall was modestly decorated.
The person waiting for Sophia and her party in the hall was a blonde woman who appeared somewhat haggard.
Her light armor immediately signalled to Sophia that she was a knight. A female knight…? All eyes were drawn to the unexpected figure. As attention focused on her, the knight’s eyes flicked towards them.
“…….”
Sophia didn’t miss the momentary sharpness in the knight’s gaze when their eyes met. Yet such a subtle threat did not intimidate Sophia. Maintaining her grace, she offered a soft smile and greeted her.
“Greetings. I am Sophia Lazarević, here to meet His Highness, Prince Dragases.”
“….Welcome, Princess.”
With a curt response, the knight turned and exited the audience chamber. The envoys struggled to conceal their outrage at the discourteous behaviour. Such arrogance might have been acceptable in an empire that was crumbling, but in seeking an alliance, how could they be so rude?
“It seems they are trying to assert dominance over us. Princess, please be cautious.”
“Thank you for your concern. But I was prepared for something like this.”
Still, it was infuriating. Dark resentment simmered in the depths of her consciousness. Taking her seat, Sophia began contemplating how to retaliate against Morea’s aggressive stance.
It was then that the prince appeared.
“His Highness, Prince Dragases!”
With the attendant’s clear declaration, all eyes shifted to the prince. It was the first meeting with a figure Sophia had only known through letters or information—a beacon of hope for the chaotic Balkans, a glimmer of light through the dense fog.
Constantine Dragases, the prince whose name echoed among the subjects of the empire.
And when Sophia’s eyes met Prince Constantine’s, she understood why he was so indifferent in decorating the court.
Sophia was well aware of John, co-emperor to Manuel II, renowned for his outstanding beauty. His friendly smile and eloquent speech made him a natural diplomat. Constantine, likely overshadowed by such a brother, was less frequently mentioned.
Yet, if John was known for his captivating charm, Constantine exuded a colder, more stoic image. His neatly combed yet wavy black hair, firm lips, and eyes hardened by a turbulent life displayed unyielding resolve. Dressed in simple attire, Constantine resembled a warrior ready for battle.
I see… So that’s why…
There was no need to decorate the court.
The prince himself, through his mere presence, conveyed all the authority he possessed.
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