If it had been an ordinary day, the office would have been quiet, with him working alone.
But today was different. The room was filled with familiar faces: Bishop Nikephoros of Mistra, Adrianos, who had taken on the role of vice-commander, and even the delegation led by Judge Demicleos, who had been dispatched to negotiate with the city’s influential figures.
None of them displayed any hint of ease, leaving the atmosphere heavy and tense. However, given the gravity of the matter at hand, there was no need to ease the tension.
It had been two weeks since Sophia’s letter arrived.
She had disappeared from sight for a time, likely to avoid drawing unnecessary attention while leading her network. Personally, she was more irritating than pleasant to deal with, but he had no choice but to trust her now.
A Venetian merchant stationed in the capital had relayed information about the political situation through their trade network. To continue doubting her despite this would be foolish. The weight of the situation demanded otherwise.
Venice, which had long weighed the balance between Morea and the imperial government, seemed to have tilted toward the former. The detailed information about the coup in the capital indicated as much.
What unsettled him most, however, was how sharply and accurately the Venetians understood the power dynamics within the empire. Though they were allies for now, their allegiance could shift the moment their interests dictated otherwise.
For now, however, the most pressing threat was the establishment of a regime hostile to Morea.
“…This is dangerous. The central government is now, for all intents and purposes, your enemy, Your Highness. Arresting all those who were favourable to you—it’s practically a declaration of war,” Demicleos said, his complexion pale as he rubbed his chin.
He was right. Even Manuel II, his father, had ceased appearing at court. This left John, who had always sought to check Morea, as the sole emperor. Given the strained history between them, there was little reason to expect a positive outcome. Naturally, Demicleos recalled the years of conflict with the central government.
“…Moreover, the request to establish a archbishopric in Morea could become a significant obstacle for the capital. It’s not out of the question for the capital to issue a summons to weaken Your Highness’s faction under this pretext.”
“And if I comply with that summons?”
“You’ll die.”
His calm, matter-of-fact response sent a chill down his spine. Judging by the expressions in the room, everyone seemed to share the same opinion. Even Ivania, the blonde-haired knight he hadn’t seen in ages, visibly trembled at the word “death.”
“My lord’s death… I’ve never even considered such a thing. If it came to that, I would sooner—”
“Let me make one thing clear to all of you: I have no intention of walking to my own death. So, put your worries to rest.”
“My lord… If that’s the case, I’d rather you kill me first before you meet your end—”
It might not be a bad idea, he thought, shuddering at the gleam of excitement in her eyes. He glanced away reflexively, only to see Demicleos shaking his head in disapproval.
Indeed, dealing with Ivania’s quirks must have taken a toll on him. He resolved to reward Demicleos generously in the future for enduring such a burden.
But first, there was the matter at hand.
“Demicleos is correct. Refusing the summons will likely lead to civil war.”
It was a standoff. The newly established regime was centered around John, who had long sought to keep Morea in check, and Theodoros, who had fully turned against them after breaking their previous agreement.
Neither man would tolerate a Morea that had grown this powerful. If he complied with their summons and travelled to the capital, he would undoubtedly be detained and stripped of power.
And if it ended with mere deposition, he might consider himself lucky. The possibility of a complete split between Morea and the empire was large.
Morea had already been isolated from the central government for far too long.
In essence, Morea functioned as a semi-independent state. The only thing keeping it under the empire’s banner was the shared bloodline of its rulers. While familial ties meant they could not fully sever ties, this also made coexistence between them tense with rivalry and discord. The only viable candidates to rule Morea as its prince were his brothers, Demetrios and Theodoros.
But rather than entrusting it to either of them, he would prefer to unite Morea and Epirus under Thomas’s rule through a personal union.
The problem was that such a move would almost certainly provoke Ottoman intervention.
Epirus existed as an independent state, even if only on paper, which was why the Ottomans had tacitly acknowledged Morea’s claims over central Greece. But if the prince of Morea were to simultaneously rule Epirus, bringing it under the empire’s fold, the Ottomans would no longer remain passive.
Yet, if he refused the summons, civil war was inevitable.
“If there’s a silver lining, it’s that Morea’s power far surpasses that of the capital.”
“It’s ironic that the very reasons which caused conflict between His Majesty Johannes and Your Highness might be the same reasons
that will unite you as allies”
Adrianos’ remark was the answer. If even Morea were to break away from the Empire, then it would truly be reduced to just a single city-state. No matter how symbolic Constantinople might be, or how much wealth it could amass as a natural strategic point, maintaining a nation with only one stronghold is nearly impossible—especially when facing an opponent as formidable as the Ottomans. With shared objectives driven by different motivations, there was a strong certainty that John would not push for an overly hardline approach.
Even if John sought personal glory, his desire lay in restoring the Empire’s glory, not in grasping some shattered crown.
“In that case, they shouldn’t have provoked us in this way. How dare they treat Your Highness, the Empire’s last hope, with such disrespect? If they committed this act without understanding what sustains the current Empire, they have shown themselves utterly unfit as rulers and must be condemned.”
But it seemed calming Demicleos anger was not an easy task. This loyal judge was genuinely enraged by the political actions taken by John. It was Bishop Nikephoros, who had long worked hard to mediate conflicts, that stepped in to calm him down.
“I understand your feelings, Judge. However, it is clear that His Majesty desires the Empire’s restoration, and Your Highness shares this goal. Let us not lose sight of what Your Highness seeks by aspiring to the throne.”
“…”
At last, Demicleos fell silent. Nikephoros’ words rang true. My desires were no different from John’s. I never sought a shattered crown. Nor have I ever confused means with ends. My sole ambition has always been the salvation of the Empire, and that aspiration has been engraved in my heart.
“I will not draw my sword against His Majesty John simply because my father was overthrown. Waging another civil war would only weaken us against the overwhelmingly strong enemy before us.”
“…This old man’s eyes see the truth. Even knowing that it may delay your path to the throne, you are willing to make sacrifices for the sake of the Empire’s survival. I am deeply moved by your resolve.”
Plethon, the wise elder, was visibly moved by this decision, one that I considered merely natural. To me, it wasn’t a sacrifice; it was simply the right thing to do for the Empire’s preservation. However, instead of voicing such thoughts, there was a more pressing matter to address.
“Plethon, wise sage, I ask for your report on what you’ve seen and heard. Who are the ones you failed to sway?”
“Forgive my inadequacy, Your Highness. Allow this old man to deliver news of both partial success and partial failure.”
Plethon began reciting the names of cities that had resisted persuasion, either due to a lack of time or the dismissive attitudes of their influential leaders. Most were cities near the Ottoman border. Among them were cities of significant size and importance:
Neopatras and Voivodina.
Situated on the plains of Thessaly, these cities, being geographically close to the Ottomans, seemed more shaken by the recent turmoil than others. Relying on such cities to form the front lines would lead to certain defeat. A desperate certainty took hold of my mind. Now was the time to prepare for the worst. Without hesitation, I brought up the true subject of this meeting.
“You all understand by now that war is imminent. The reason I’ve summoned you here is that you are the pillars that uphold Morea and the closest aides who will play key roles in the long struggle ahead. We cannot afford either complacency or overconfidence.
The foes we face are unimaginably powerful. For centuries, they have invaded on our lands, violated our families, and now they aim to strip us of our proud traditions and history. They are heretics seeking to dethrone Christ and install their prophet in His place. They are the ones who seek to bring down the millennium-long empire embodied in this City of Cities.
Fear them. Be vigilant. They are the greatest trial and the weight of destiny that the Empire must overcome to survive.”
The cities favourable to the Ottomans must be abandoned.
“And we, under Christ’s scales, shall prove that we are worthy of His choice.”
For that, we will never let go of what we hold.
TL : Let me tell you something fun: The Byzantine Empire was first founded by Constantine the Great, who was the first Roman emperor to convert to Christianity. During his time, he moved the capital of Rome to Byzantium and renamed it Constantinople, which marked the beginning of the Byzantine Empire. Don’t get confused—Constantine the Great was the emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire so the Eastern Roman Empire continued to be known as the Byzantine Empire after his rule. Meanwhile, the Western Roman Empire continued with Rome as its capital. And Constantine Dragases, our main character, was the last emperor of the Byzantine Empire. I don’t know if this is a spoiler since a lot of stuff has already been changed.
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