It had been about seven years since my last journey to the capital.
Since coming to Morea, my daily life had been consumed with the recovery and stabilization of the Peloponnesian Peninsula. Naturally, I had been cut off from most of my family, except for my father who remained in the capital. This trip provided an opportunity to discuss the empire’s policies. As I pondered who to bring as my companions, considering the preparations needed for future discussions, a voice interrupted my thoughts.
“I will accompany you.”
“Ivania, you must stay here and lead the mercenaries.”
The mercenary captain, with her now slightly longer blonde hair flowing, approached with a determined expression, blocking my path.
Though I presented a reasonable argument to Ivania, she openly displayed her dissatisfaction.
“Is it not the duty of the employed to protect their employer’s safety? I am here solely to fulfill that duty, without any ulterior motives…”
“Really?”
Was she truly acting without any ulterior motives?
This time, I was the one unconvinced. As I stared at her intently, Ivania initially met my gaze with confidence. Was she genuinely driven by pure intentions? For a moment, I was almost convinced.
However, as time passed, her eyes began to tremble and eventually darted away.
So much for no ulterior motives.
Even as I raised an eyebrow and glared at her, Ivania only looked around nervously, showing no signs of admitting the obvious. It was clear to anyone observing, yet she was determined to feign ignorance. I had no choice but to seal the deal with words.
“Really?”
Finally, Ivania squeezed her eyes shut, trembling for a long while.
“No!”
Ivania’s face turned crimson as she erupted. A sigh escaped me naturally. Of course. As I mentally clicked my tongue in exasperation, Ivania, seemingly unable to control her outburst, began to pour out all her emotions.
“A marriage for you, my lord? Do you think I stayed here and signed the contract for that reason?”
“Surely, it’s for the salary.”
What else could it be… I almost continued with my train of thought, but then reconsidered. If there were a contest for the most unusual mindset, Ivania would win without a doubt. Her way of thinking was beyond comprehension with typical reasoning.
“My lord, do you still not understand?! Do you not know what I truly desire?!”
“I’d rather not guess.”
If Ivania were presented as a dating sim heroine, I’d vow to stay single. Even to the extent of taking a monastic vow. Whether she realized my resolute determination or not, Ivania steadfastly conveyed her intentions.
“What I desire is not much, my lord♡.”
“Don’t add strange things at the end.”
“I simply wish for a love as deep, sticky, and engulfing as a swamp, like one from an epic poem♥.”
Deep? Sticky? A love like a swamp?
Ordinarily, people would describe romance as sweet, not with such terms. Perhaps my concept of romance was wrong, and that’s why I hadn’t experienced it yet. Just as I started doubting myself, Ivania clasped her flushed cheeks with both hands, looking at me with unfocused eyes.
“Yes, a love where the beloved has someone else, leading to irresistible attraction and temptation, and the spouse, filled with jealousy, brings another into the mix, who then…”
“Bishop! Bishop!”
As a devout follower, I resolved not to listen to the devil’s words any further. The arrival of Bishop Nikephoros, who quickly escorted the demonic spirit away, concluded the immediate ordeal. However, even the bishop’s heroic efforts didn’t prevent me from deep contemplation about whether to continue employing her.
They say you get what you pay for.
If only I could meet the Venetian who arranged this contract. I never considered myself a cruel person, but at this moment, I could imagine tying him up and whipping him in the streets.
“…Maybe I should just go without an companion.”
It might be less dignified, but surely it’s better than having a disaster unfold on the way. I seriously considered it until Demicleos, the imperial magistrate, came to my office and spoke.
“Take her and the mercenaries with you.”
“There must be a good reason for what he said.”
Had a sword been at hand, I might have drawn it immediately. Despite sensing my irritation, Demicleos began listing his reasons in a calm voice.
“Currently, Morea represents the last hope for the empire and the final chance to repel the Ottomans. Demonstrating this to the citizens of the capital is essential to alleviate their ongoing anxiety.”
“So, you’re suggesting I bring Ivania’s mercenaries, the ones with the best military discipline?”
“Her mercenaries are well-armed, and their presence is splendid enough to symbolize Morea’s prosperity. While the nobles still believe political power resides in the capital, it’s time to show them that real authority has shifted to Morea.”
The first reason was easy to dismiss, but the second caused my face to harden. What was he thinking? My voice, cold as if my very heart had frozen, emerged.
“I’ll overlook the idea of making the capital’s proud nobles face reality. But I cannot ignore the reason behind it.”
Would three hundred mercenaries really make the nobles realize their downfall? More importantly, what was the point of confronting them with reality? Unless there was a single purpose—showing who held the reins of power—it made no sense. My icy interrogation prompted a composed response from Demicleos.
“Your Highness, I believe you are the last beacon of this empire.”
“Spare me such grandiose words. Such statements could endanger my life and position.”
“Your Highness, everyone knows you were once the most promising candidate for succession.”
What nonsense. Why am I hearing this for the first time about myself? Even as I displayed my astonishment, Demicleos showed no hesitation. It seemed he intended to lay out all his thoughts.
“You possess the noble lineage to claim the throne and the capability to lead this empire. If your marriage succeeds, you’ll have most of the empire’s nobles on your side. Who else could establish such a stable power base?”
…!!!!
Only then did I realize how I might be perceived. If I, the sovereign ruler of Morea, allied with the great Kantakouzenos family, the implications of the marriage I had agreed to without much thought became clear, turning my face pale.
Now I would be suspected by co-emperor John VIII and the other princes of harboring ambitions for the throne.
Had this occurred before a co-emperor was appointed, it might have been less problematic. But my father, Manuel II, had carefully allocated power, and in an empire with an established line of succession, a brother deemed too threatening could only lead to division and war between brothers.
Damn, it’s too late to back out now. The face of Bishop Nikephoros, who arranged the marriage, flashed before my eyes. Of course. Raising my head from the heavy thoughts, I looked at Demicleos.
“You conspired with the bishop.”
His response was silence. Holding my throbbing forehead, I pondered over and over. What drove Nikephoros and Demicleos to orchestrate this? Could it be a scheme to incite a civil war within the empire? One thing was clear: the spark for internal conflict had been lit.
I couldn’t just sit and accept this.
“Fine. I’ll accept your intentions and aim for the throne.”
“…Forgive my audacity, Your Highness.”
Demicleos bowed deeply, appearing remorseful. What had pushed them to such lengths? Despite the lament, I declared firmly.
“But I will seize the throne at the time of my choosing.”
It seemed a significant overhaul of my strategy was now unavoidable.
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