Although Francisco found Halid distasteful, his presence was proving to be a great help in many ways.
The first of these was the fact that Francisco could now focus solely on the Latins.
He had been overwhelmed with work trying to manage the Murtatis as well.
Though he didn’t think much of Halid, he had to acknowledge the facts: thanks to him, Francisco could now commit fully to his original role as commander of the cavalry. Of course, that didn’t mean all the problems were solved.
“Fine, I’ll admit Halid’s got some ability.”
That was the first thing Francisco said as he barged into the office unannounced.
The Emperor gave him a puzzled look at the abrupt start, lacking any context or lead-in.
“Unexpected. After biting his head off, now you admit he’s competent?”
“Just look at how quickly he’s instilled discipline among the Murtatis. You have to give him credit. But that’s not the problem, cousin.”
“Then let’s hear it.”
Halid Murtat.
Calling himself a traitor, he was now putting his experience as a former Ottoman soldier to full use.
The Murtatis had already been divided into small squads under his command and had rapidly established a clear hierarchy.
Now they were moving on to equipping themselves with arms.
The matter currently occupying the Emperor’s attention was, in fact, Halid’s proposal about the “armament of the Murtatis.”
The idea was to maintain the basic structure where the Murtatis funded their own equipment, but in cases where one couldn’t afford it, the government would provide it on loan.
From this, the Emperor finally saw a chance to implement specialization.
Since the Empire had failed to maintain a proper military structure following its sudden collapse, its military-related industries had been critically weakened.
Most armor and weapon supplies were imported through trade with Venice and Genoa.
There were virtually no local guilds handling military equipment, and especially in the case of arrows—which were consumable and used up quickly—introducing division of labor would pose little resistance.
Given this, it was natural that the Emperor had been preoccupied with those matters rather than keeping a close eye on Halid.
Which made Francisco’s warning hit all the harder.
“Halid’s background is dangerous, no matter how you look at it.”
“I’ve given that matter quite a bit of thought myself.”
“No, cousin. I mean we need a solution now.”
Francisco voiced his concerns with a grave expression. It was something he had long worried about—and the Emperor, too, had occasionally agonized over the issue.
But the difference in urgency was stark. The Emperor was buried in a mountain of responsibilities across all sectors, while Francisco was dealing with soldiers on the ground. Taking a deep breath, Francisco continued.
“Word is spreading among the troops that the son of Evrenos is in Morea.”
“…Not exactly good news.”
“Right. We’ll need to defuse that somehow.”
No doubt the name had slipped in front of the troops the day they went to meet Halid. Evrenos wasn’t just someone who’d defected to the Ottomans—he had earned distinction there and was the very architect of the devshirme system.
The resentment toward him was inevitable. Even if Halid claimed to have abandoned everything inherited from his father, not everyone would readily accept it. After some thought, the Emperor made a decision he had already been leaning toward.
“It can’t be helped. We won’t fully disclose Halid Murtat’s background. Instead, we’ll say he was a high-ranking officer from the Ottoman side and leave it at that.”
“…Well, I suppose that’s the best we can do.”
“I thought you’d be calling for his immediate expulsion.”
“Like it or not, he’s helping. Reality is, sometimes you’ve got to work with people you don’t like.”
Francisco shrugged with a bitter smile. It was true. Kicking Halid out now would only throw all the work back onto Francisco.
And if anyone understood that reality best, it was him. If even Francisco, the one most opposed to Halid, had accepted the situation, there was nothing more to worry about.
The Emperor turned his attention elsewhere.
“If that’s settled, then there’s no issue. But it’s not good to keep his identity hidden from everyone. Summon Ivania. She may be a woman, but she’s a commander too. She should be informed.”
“Fair enough. I’ll bring her right away. Just wait here.”
Having resolved to pay attention to Ivania, ignoring her now wouldn’t be right.
Stroking his chin, Francisco offered his usual cheerful grin and agreed lightly.
Now that the heavy matter of Halid’s background was more or less settled, a change of tone made sense. As he hummed a tune and walked away in obvious relief, the Emperor couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.
“…Ugh!”
“Oh my, Sir Francisco?”
“…An honor to see you, Your Majesty the Empress. Now, if you’ll excuse me!”
Letting out an involuntary groan the moment he opened the door and saw Sophia, Francisco offered a rushed bow before dashing away.
His figure quickly disappeared down the hallway. Did he run away? The Emperor, without realizing it, gripped his quill so tightly the veins on the back of his hand stood out.
Sophia, too, stared after the vanished Francisco, but unlike the Emperor, her gaze soon shifted—toward him.
Her black eyes, always serious seemed unusually sticky today. The Emperor’s response to that gaze was to look away. But turning one’s eyes didn’t block the ears.
“So… you’ve finally decided to make your move?”
A single question, brimming with curiosity.
To this, the Emperor chose silence—yet as if expecting that very response, Sophia stepped closer. In an instant, silent filled the room.
Where once official matters had echoed through the office, now only the soft sounds of measured footsteps remained. At last, the gentle rustle of a dress brushing against the chair signaled the beginning of Sophia’s advance.
“I’ve spoken so often about the importance of a healthy marital relationship… I’m starting to feel a little hurt, you know.”
“…Is there a specific answer you’re hoping to hear, my lady?”
“I already told you. A healthy marital relationship.”
“……”
If there was one person the Emperor found most difficult to face, it would be Sophia.
From their first encounter, which had been anything but pleasant, the two had clashed time and again due to political circumstances.
Then, a few years ago, their dynamic shifted unexpectedly—and the Emperor still hadn’t quite figured out how to define their relationship. Especially since he had always drawn a clear line between friend and foe.
When he recalled how she had nearly plunged Morea into crisis for the sake of her homeland, Sophia seemed firmly in the enemy camp.
Yet, considering how cooperative she had been afterward, she had certainly proven herself a valuable ally.
That alone was enough to give him a headache—yet the situation became even more maddening when she, contrary to all expectations, declared she would not engage in infidelity.
And so, for the past two years, he had kept his distance as much as possible.
Yet during that time, Sophia continued her advances. Now, only one choice remained: how the Emperor himself would respond. Lifting his gaze from the paperwork, he looked directly at Sophia.
She, in turn, met his eyes without the slightest hesitation, a confident smile playing on her lips.
She was a woman completely beyond his understanding.
Swallowing down words he couldn’t bring himself to say, the Emperor finally made his decision.
“Very well. I don’t know what your intentions are, but I’ll accept that our alliance has reached a new turning point. I’ll put the past behind us.”
“That’s a far more favourable outcome than I expected. So… will you now begin fulfilling your duties as a husband?”
“…In return, you must accept that I will prioritize others above you. That was the foundation of our pact. I now present it to you as the same condition you once gave me on the day this marriage was sealed.”
“…Heh… I didn’t expect those words to come back to me like this.”
“Is that your answer?”
As if being interrogated, Sophia covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes crinkling into a smile.
“I accept your condition. It’s not like I will be your first anyway…”
“………”
“…Oh? You’ve gone quiet all of a sudden?”
“…………….”
Even Sophia, with her sly demeanor, hadn’t expected this kind of reaction.
Just moments ago, the Emperor had been staring her down with unwavering resolve—now, he quietly turned away, lips firmly sealed. At that sight, Sophia felt something new: an unfamiliar wave of anxiety.
“…No. No, surely not. I mean, surely, that can’t be…”
“……….”
“…Can’t… be?”
His silence was the answer.
Even in the Middle Ages, which prized chastity, it was rare for someone to truly remain pure—especially for men.
Monks who reject the world might be the exception, but nobles, who were bound to produce heirs, could hardly neglect reproduction.
Given that, Sophia had never even considered this possibility.
Only after a long, drawn-out silence did she speak again.
“…This won’t do. Negotiations are off.”
“…What ridiculous nonsense are you—!”
The shout that nearly burst forth never made it out of his mouth.
A completely unexpected, gentle sensation silenced him. It lasted only the briefest moment—yet to the Emperor, it was like the world had come crashing down.
A shock beyond words in the blink of an eye. The moment passed, and by the time he registered it, Sophia had already turned away.
“…I can’t be the only one who’s a first.”
With those final words, Sophia walked out of the office.
Left alone, the Emperor could only stare blankly at the door through which she had vanished… then clutch his head in utter dismay.
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