The concept of free love seems simple yet remains nearly impossible to achieve.
It is a custom that only began to take shape in modern times, after numerous revolutions and transformations.
Naturally, in the medieval era—when individual freedom was far more restricted—it was an unavoidable reality.
This was especially true for noble bloodlines, where the union of families carried immense significance.
Marriage was not merely about two individuals becoming husband and wife.
It was a means of binding people by blood because trust alone was insufficient.
In the present age, this was what marriage had become.
Most nobles accepted arranged marriages as their destined path.
Some sought pleasure or followed their hearts in secrecy, avoiding public scrutiny, but they could not escape scandal and condemnation.
Moreover, what nobleman, raised with the belief in his sacred duties and rights, would stand idly by upon discovering his spouse’s infidelity?
Worse still, what if he learned that his wife had borne another man’s illegitimate child?
The humiliation and disgrace would surely lead to retribution, and such a betrayal could even fracture alliances between noble houses.
Yet, Prince Konstantinos was telling Sophia to commit adultery.
As if he still remembered the promise Sophia had once made herself.
If things had turned out the way she wished, she should simply be happy—but it was too weighty a decision to take so lightly.
Even for Sophia, the prince’s words were not something she could easily accept. And if the reason behind it was related to the imperial succession, then all the more so.
“Is that truly all there is to it?”
Her voice came out much calmer than she had expected. She was almost impressed with herself, wondering if she had ever hidden her emotions so thoroughly before.
However, it made no difference to the prince’s demeanor.
He furrowed his brows slightly before responding.
“It seems you require further explanation. Very well.”
Though his reaction was sharp, Sophia noticed that the wariness in his gaze had unexpectedly softened. Was that a good thing? Or did it signify a growing distance between them? She had to find out.
The fate of Serbia would be greatly influenced by how her relationship with the prince was defined.
Unconsciously, she bit her lower lip. Even as she did so, the prince’s expression remained unchanged.
He merely continued speaking in an indifferent tone.
“Are you asking for a reason that benefits you? Or for the reason that I have considered?”
“I’d like to hear your reasoning first.”
Sophia chose the latter without hesitation.
Whatever came from this prince’s lips would undoubtedly be too faint for her to feel anything.
Their relationship had never been personal. They had met not as man and woman, but as the Princess of Serbia and a Prince of the Empire.
To put it more bluntly, they stood before each other as the representatives of their respective nations. Understanding his thoughts, even in part, was of utmost importance.
That was Sophia’s judgment, and so she had chosen the latter. The prince, without hesitation, gave his answer.
“It is to prevent any future conflict over the Serbian throne or the imperial succession.”
At that, Sophia let out a hollow laugh. A succession dispute? Already? Words she had long held back surged to the tip of her tongue.
Even with the formidable enemy that was the Ottomans sharpening their blades, he was worried about the imperial succession? And he considered Serbia—a nation he sought to form an alliance with—a potential rival? It was only natural that such thoughts crossed her mind.
She almost let slip her usual sharp retort but held it back. Instead, she murmured to herself a few times before finally speaking aloud.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit premature?”
“Do I seem impatient to you?”
“Frankly, yes. It looks like you’re simply basking in the thrill of a single victory.”
“But it is an issue that would inevitably surface. I will establish clarity now, while I still hold the initiative. That is my duty as the Prince of Morea.”
The true reason why the prince had told Sophia to love as she pleased lay in this: securing the stability of the succession.
To prevent a future catastrophe that could deal the final blow to the already fragile empire, he needed to act.
Until now, he had struggled with how to approach the issue, but his experiences in the war and his conversations with Francisco had solidified his decision.
Perhaps the shift in his mindset was evident in his expression, for Sophia gazed at him with curiosity, her dark eyes unreadable.
“You’ve changed quite a bit for someone who once refused to even discuss such matters.”
“I simply spent time contemplating how to proceed.”
“Isn’t it often said that women are the greatest hurdle for a man’s resolve?”
The prince did not answer. He did not even close his eyes in thought, as was his usual habit before deliberation. He simply met Sophia’s gaze, his own unwavering.
And Sophia quickly realized—that was his answer.
“…Come to think of it, there is a woman who likes someone like you.”
“I find it just as difficult to understand as you do.”
“I recall you once said you couldn’t return her feelings.”
“I chose one over the other, my lady.”
He had given something up in order to make a choice.
But what exactly had he abandoned?
Sophia was both puzzled and astonished. She had believed he would remain virgin for life—what had possessed him to act this way now?
“Hoho… Hearing you say that makes me quite curious. Just what is it that Your Highness has given up?”
Even without directly asking, her stance was blatant. Yet the prince answered without a hint of hesitation, not even allowing Sophia the chance to grasp the full meaning of his words.
“The imperial family. And succession.”
“The imperial family and succession…?”
“I am already called by the name Dragases more than I am by the name Palaiologos. The children who will be born from now on shall follow this name. They will be of a cadet branch, and I will ensure that they will never ascend to the throne in the empire to come.”
For a brief moment, Sophia felt as if she had stopped breathing.
To cast aside the name of the imperial family—who could easily grasp the weight of such words?
Even now, when the empire’s authority had plummeted to ruin, a noble house’s name was not something to be taken lightly.
And this was a dynasty that had ruled for nearly two hundred years. No matter how shattered the empire had become, its name still carried weight.
Yet the prince declared that he would forsake it.
To be with the woman he cherished and for the future peace of the empire he hoped to see rise again.
A woman and a nation.
Two fates that could never truly coexist, and so he had made a choice no one else would dare to make.
Sophia barely managed to compose herself, but when she finally spoke, her voice trembled. Such a decision was too shocking to take lightly.
“…Do you really believe people will accept that? In this empire, power alone is enough to seize control at any time—this is ultimately meaningless! Simply bearing your name would be enough for people to rally behind your children, so why?!”
“If that is the case, then I shall make my declaration in my own name.”
“You still don’t understand, do you?! You have already been chosen as the next emperor! The emperor in the capital has publicly declared you as his co-emperor!”
For the first time, the prince’s gaze wavered.
The unexpected news in Sophia’s impassioned voice shook him.
Until now, the capital and Morea had been too preoccupied keeping each other in check to unite against the great enemy looming before them, the Ottomans.
Even Murad’s recent invasion, when traced back to its origins, had stemmed from the conflicts between Emperor John and the prince of Morea, Constantine.
And now, John had named him co-emperor?
Another burden had been thrown upon the prince.
Could John have ulterior motives?
Just as he had feared before, this could be a scheme to lure him into the capital under the guise of a coronation, only to eliminate him.
Power was a double-edged sword that could drive even kin to spill each other’s blood.
To ignore this would be sheer negligence.
However, the person the prince needed to deal with at this moment was not his elder brother in the distant capital, but the woman standing before him.
From ancient times, the title of co-emperor had served to ease disputes over succession. By sharing power, it was effectively an announcement to the world that the chosen individual was the heir.
Even his father, Manuel, had solidified John’s claim by naming him co-emperor, allowing John to seize power with far greater ease.
Too much ease, in fact—so much that he had gone as far as to imprison his own father.
Such was the weight of the title.
If the prince accepted it, it would give his children a pretext to challenge the throne in the future.
—And that was precisely why.
“Then this shall be my lines first and final enthronement.”
He vowed to himself once more.
If, by some miracle, the empire were to rise again in the distant future… he would ensure that the name Dragases never ascended to the throne again.
Even if he had to wield every ounce of authority he gained from saving the empire to make it so.
The empire would not serve his descendants.
His descendants would serve the empire.
Sophia, seeing this resolve before her, fell silent.
As her emotions, unknowingly stirred, gradually cooled, she had no choice but to acknowledge it.
The reason people followed the man before her.
The burning will that drove him.
It was a choice only one who was willing to shoulder all dishonor, shame, humiliation, and the scorn of merciless decisions could make.
Now she understood why the mighty Ottomans sought to crush a mere young man so thoroughly.
And as Sophia stood there, the prince resumed speaking to her.
“So, my wife, I ask for your cooperation. I will grant you what you desire. I shall overlook your love. I will even make you empress.”
“…There must be a price.”
It was an offer far too generous, one that seemed entirely in her favour.
No one would tolerate their spouse’s infidelity. The prideful nobility would surely retaliate in some form. The prince was no exception to this rule.
Though Sophia saw this as a favourable bargain, in the prince’s eyes, it was a negotiation in which he had not yielded the most important piece.
Having vaguely grasped this, Sophia asked her question.
The prince clenched his fist tightly before answering.
“But you shall never become empress dowager.”
( TL/N : Dowager is a widow who inherits her deceased husband’s titles, property, and land. )
A conviction bordering on madness.
Before it, Sophia found herself speechless.
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