The Church of Mistra.
There, under the supervision of Bishop Nikephoros, Prince Constantine and Princess Sophia were formally united in marriage. A ceremony conducted purely for political advantage, yet the people cheered. The rumours in the capital that the prince had insulted the Kantakouzenos family had not unsettled Morea.
Of course, the minor protest from the mercenary captain was promptly silenced.
After all, the Moreans, who had lived almost independently for a century, supported the prince’s decision. Some even hoped he would break away from the crumbling empire altogether. But that was not the prince’s intention.
Prince Constantine dreamed of uniting the old territories under the imperial banner once again. For him, the growing independence of the Moreans was an unwelcome reality. However, it was too early to dwell on that. More immediate concerns demanded his attention, foremost among them being Serbia’s situation.
Princess Sophia responded to the prince’s concerns with a cooperative tone.
“As stated in the letter, Serbia is still suffering from the aftermath of our recent defeat. While my father holds considerable power, his legitimacy is fragile, having been elevated by the nobles after the king’s death. In such a situation, it’s challenging to mobilize a large army.”
The prince wasn’t interested in endless excuses.
“So, what’s the actual number of troops available for deployment?”
“…Three to four thousand, perhaps.”
“This is worse than I thought… At least we won’t have to worry about internal interference.”
While the local lords’ forces could be mustered, the opponent was a newly established ruler with weak legitimacy. In contrast, Prince Constantine, with both noble blood and proven ability, had firmly established himself. It seemed unlikely that Stefan Lazarević, relatively new to power, could command his lords’ armies at will.
Believing his superiority assured, the prince looked Sophia with a stern gaze. Perhaps she was downplaying Serbia’s military capabilities to gain an advantage. If she intended to use military support as leverage for dominance in the alliance, she was underestimating him.
“Given how long your father has ruled, shouldn’t Morea be the one offering support?”
“Thank you for your rude concern. But it’s foolish for representatives of two nations, facing the Ottomans, to be fighting like this.”
“I’m not here to listen to excuses!”
If this continued, the conversation would go in circles forever. The prince resolved to take a more aggressive stance. His emotions surged through the room like a tempest. From the beginning, his sole reason for this marriage was Serbia’s military support. If Serbia couldn’t provide the troops he needed, what value did this union hold?
“I can understand the aftermath of defeat and the internal turmoil after the king’s death. But after twenty years, only four thousand troops?!”
“A prince of the empire, speaking with such little decorum—it makes one wonder about your upbringing.”
“There must be more. If Serbia’s military was truly that weak, it would have fallen long ago. I estimate you could muster eight thousand if you put everything on the line. Am I right?”
“…If the nation’s fate depended on it, yes.”
“You wouldn’t be thinking of gambling your survival against the Ottomans with just four thousand, would you? So it’s eight thousand after all. Much better than I feared…”
The prince’s anger cooled as swiftly as it had flared. Sophia smirked at his abrupt change of demeanor.
“Is that how you intend to threaten your wife?”
Sophia’s continued provocations were lost on the prince, whose thoughts had already shifted elsewhere. With their hearts so misaligned, there seemed little point in reconciling. The prince, gazing at the map spread on his desk, responded with a detached tone.
“Once we defeat the Ottomans, I’ll grant you a divorce. You needn’t consider me your husband.”
“If you think you can just use me, you underestimate my resolve.”
Neither husband nor wife was willing to back down. The prince, weary of the endless conflict, saw two options: part ways or find a compromise.
He chose the latter.
“I’ll act as you do.”
“I imagine we have more differences than commonalities.”
“You agreed to this marriage because it promised benefits. What I seek is Serbia’s military support. Additionally, I desire the sharing of your intelligence.”
This was a practical marriage. Just as the prince sought gain, Sophia had her own motives for entering the union. At last, her sharp retorts gave way to a slight smile.
“Now you ask the right questions.”
The choice had been correct. Sophia, tracing a finger along the neckline of her dress, slowly approached the prince. Her enticing smile and alluring figure were calculated to seduce. The prince regarded her with a cold, unfeeling gaze, but Sophia remained undeterred.
Despite the loveless exchange of glances, Sophia enveloped her arms around the prince’s neck, pulling him close.
“…I desire you. Not as a rational woman, but as a princess.”
“Have you been eyeing the empress’s seat?”
“Yes, I have. I am certain that one day you will ascend as a great sovereign. Your wife will be the most noble woman ruling half the world when that time comes.”
Bittersweet memories swirled in Sophia’s mind. She had come this far, reassuring herself that choosing the prince was the right decision. She leaned in close and whispered softly into the prince’s ear, making sure no one else could hear.
“Permit me to pursue love with the one I truly adore.”
Hearing these words, the prince was overwhelmed with a mix of astonishment and humiliation. Even in a political marriage, to say such a thing so boldly to one’s husband was audacious. Yet, the emotion that followed wasn’t anger but envy. Why did he find himself envying Sophia? The unexpected turmoil within left the prince’s eyes wavering.
Fortunately, the envy quickly dissipated, replaced by the longed-for fury—an intense motivator, guiding the prince’s judgment.
After expelling the Ottomans from the Balkans, a war for regional dominance would follow. If they could also drive out Venice, they would eventually confront Serbia. By then, the misdeeds of a Serbian-born empress would serve as a perfect pretext. Even if unable to mobilize an army, it would be a potent diplomatic card to pressure the opposition.
Indifference
He could easily provide it.
“I’ll consent. I will actively remain indifferent for the sake of your love.”
“…Then I have no complaints.”
Sophia, adjusting her attire and stepping back, left the prince to savour the lingering scent with a slight furrow of his brow. Though a significant rift separated them, a compromise had been reached. The prince, however, was the first to secure what he desired.
That dark night, the prince personally witnessed the source of Sophia’s intelligence.
“This peculiar candle… Jews, is it?”
“There are also Gypsies.”
They had slipped away to a humble dwelling, where a uniquely shaped candle, a symbol of Judaism, was placed. Perhaps Sophia had informed them in advance. A man draped in a shabby cloak knelt and greeted her.
“It is an honor to meet you, Princess.”
“Please address me as Mrs. Dragaš now. I am a married woman.”
The Jew gazed intently at Sophia, the meaning behind his look unclear. As the prince began to speculate, Sophia glanced at him briefly before smiling at the Jew.
“Don’t worry. Everything is fine.”
“As you command.”
This made it difficult to discern Sophia’s past, but the prince seized the opportunity to inquire about another matter.
“When did you start associating with them? Have they ever actively contributed?”
“Jews and Gypsies are often despised but easily pitied. Scattered everywhere, they rarely arouse suspicion. They acquire what they cannot attain themselves through the sympathy of others.”
“…Since when have they been in Mistra?”
“I’ve only recently made contact. It was challenging. Mistra is so stable that few are willing to risk uncertain dangers.”
“So, if I offered them better terms, do you think they would support me?”
“Generally, one would prefer a noble of lineage and renown over a suspicious Jewish retainer.”
Sophia’s words rang true. Yet, for a prince grappling with a shortage of talent, even considering the appointment of women, what use were the Jews?
Faced with this new possibility, the prince quietly began to deliberate.
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