Several years had passed since Osman had personally taken action.
It had been about two years since Emperor Manuel had barely reclaimed the Thracian region, only to lose it again and see the capital besieged.
The year 1430 was fast approaching. During that time, some things had remained unchanged, while many others had shifted. The most notable among them was none other than the news of Ivania’s pregnancy.
At first, her frequent nausea was dismissed as a simple bout of poor health, but as time went on, even the swelling of her belly could no longer be hidden.
Thanks to this, Ivania was relieved from all her duties and allowed to rest in her own designated chamber. But the real issue lay elsewhere. Ivania was an unmarried woman. The fact that a close female associate of the emperor had conceived a child without marriage was enough to stir gossip.
What’s more, the child’s father was none other than Emperor Dragases—a truth all the high officials knew but dared not speak aloud. Of course, it was arguably better than the emperor showing no interest in women at all and making his courtiers sigh in despair over the lack of an heir.
Even so, the situation wasn’t one they could fully celebrate.
“This only brings trouble. His Majesty, who has until now upheld the virtues of the Church, suddenly fathers a child without a marriage… Surely chaos will follow.”
As Bishop Nikephoros began his usual complaints—never having approved of Ivania from the start—Francisco shook his head in frustration. While the bishop worried about the criticism aimed at the emperor, Francisco was more concerned about Ivania’s absence itself.
“That’s not the problem, Bishop. If she’s out, someone has to take over her duties…”
Trailing off and glancing sideways, Francisco scowled. There was only one person who annoyed this otherwise flippant man so deeply. And that very person, Khalid, simply shrugged, alternating his gaze between the bishop and Francisco with his usual arrogant smirk.
“We all expected this the moment His Majesty took a woman into his bed, didn’t we? It’s fortunate we even have a child out of it.”
“Muslim or not, I thought your kind didn’t look kindly on extramarital affairs.”
“His Majesty proved he hadn’t forgotten his responsibilities even in intimacy, and he’s already begun preparing accordingly. You may be uncomfortable as a clergyman, but isn’t that enough from the perspective of a vassal? What exactly are you so upset about?”
“My issue, you idiot, is that one of us now has to take on all the work that woman used to handle.”
“And that’s just something to accept and follow, isn’t it?”
“No, I mean—actually, forget it.”
Realizing too late who stood to lose by continuing this argument, Francisco waved his hand as if swatting the air, cutting himself off. He deliberately avoided looking at Halid, who had plastered a mocking grin on his face. But no amount of Halid’s fancy speech could erase the concerns weighing on the inner circle.
Even Ivania herself wasn’t exempt.
Though she smiled and stroked her swelling belly with joy, she couldn’t fully give in to the happiness.
“I’m glad to have His Majesty’s child… but I won’t be able to assist him for a while.”
“Francisco won’t be thrilled.”
Morea was already short on commanders.
It wouldn’t be easy to fill Ivania’s absence. Eventually, either Francisco or Halid would have to step into her role. Francisco would hate either outcome—if he were chosen, his workload would increase; if Halid were, it would look like he had gained the emperor’s favour. Francisco’s grumbling was already easy to picture. He was that predictable.
But the emperor had no intention of overworking Ivania, not even slightly.
In fact, he was already thinking ahead to her postpartum recovery. Hygiene and medical standards in the medieval era were far from ideal. Even with the empire’s relatively advanced technology, there were still many obstacles a mother had to overcome.
Truthfully, he had never expected to have a child in his lifetime. As such, he had never properly prepared himself for parenthood.
Could he truly be a good parent?
The doubt lingered. But in both his life before coming here and his life afterward, he had seen examples of good fathers. He might not become the best parent, but he could at least strive to follow their example.
The child would likely be excluded from power for the empire’s sake, and born into the stigma of being a bastard in the medieval age. All the more reason, then, for him to shower the child with love. With that resolve, the emperor gently held Ivania’s hand.
His heart remained strangely calm—too calm to call this love. But the sense of responsibility came to him clearly, carried by Ivania’s warmth.
Responsibility.
He mouthed the weighty word again before looking into Ivania’s face. It had been nearly ten years since they’d met, this unruly woman. Compared to the women of her time, she was considered late to bear a child—and one born without a marritage at that. Yet Ivania beamed with joy, radiant with delight.
“Hmph, he’ll have to work harder now. We must ease His Majesty’s burden.”
Her smile turned mischievous, imagining the pained expression that would surely twist Francisco’s face. The emperor watched her silently for a moment, then began to smile himself.
“In any case, take care of yourself. Francisco is doing his best, after all.”
“Sigh… I never thought I’d live to hear such concern from Your Majesty…”
“If it’s a daughter, I pray she takes after anyone but her mother.”
“Y-Your Majesty! That’s no way to speak of me!”
“Then act more proper. Much more than now.”
“…Then I hope he’s a boy. And if he is, I hope he’s nothing like you, Your Majesty.”
“He’d better not be.”
While Ivania pouted in mock offense, the emperor’s expression stiffened. She missed the change, as he had turned away. He was still lost in the unfamiliar word turning over in his mind.
Child…
Something he had never once seriously considered. And yet such a being was now growing within the woman before him, preparing to come into the world.
The strange emotion that had arisen when he first learned the news would never leave him. But as time passed, that vague emotion was gradually taking on clearer form.
Responsibility? Or duty?
Would “obligation” be the right word?
Even repeated questioning brought no definite answer. What was certain, though, was that the burden on the emperor’s shoulders had grown heavier once again. Carefully laying his free hand atop Ivania’s, the emperor quietly reaffirmed what he must do now—as a father.
I must protect it.
I will protect it.
With that resolve, the Emperor slowly opened his mouth.
“Just give birth safely. Don’t worry about the criticism from others. Even if I have to ask the bishop personally, I’ll make sure the child receives baptism without harm.”
“Y-Your Majesty…”
In this world, even baptism was often denied to illegitimate children. The fact that Ivania, a woman of low status whose only merits were her beauty and minor martial skill, was now carrying the Emperor’s child was already an enormous scandal. Considering how many people shunned illegitimate children, the Emperor’s decision was astonishing. Tears welled up in Ivania’s blue eyes.
The Emperor, who had been quietly watching her, gently stroked her hand one last time before rising to his feet.
“I must leave now. I stopped by on my way to answer my brother’s summons. There’s much to do, and I’m sorry I can’t give you more attention, Ivania.”
“…Please don’t say that, Your Majesty. I’m the one who’s grateful.”
“This will be the last time—for now. I don’t know when the next will come, so let me say goodbye in advance.”
With those words, the Emperor lightly embraced Ivania. It was no wonder she was startled by such unexpected tenderness. Her eyes went wide, and she was left fumbling for words. Taking advantage of her stunned silence, the Emperor quickly left the room.
The reason he departed in such haste was none other than Andronikos.
Since arriving in Morea from the capital, Prince Andronikos’s condition had remained the same. It showed no signs of improving, but at least it wasn’t worsening either. As such, he spent most of his time bedridden. Still, he did what he could to assist with administrative matters and occasionally summoned Emperor Dragases to talk—just as he had now.
Whenever he called for the Emperor, it was usually to have a serious discussion.
This time was no different. Upon entering Andronikos’s bedchamber, the Emperor was greeted by a familiar voice.
“You’re a little late, Konstantinos.”
The Emperor reflexively parted his lips to speak but then shut them. He could tell from Andronikos’s gaze that it hadn’t been a question expecting an answer. Their conversations usually began this way—Andronikos tossing out questions with no reply, the Emperor silently sitting down. This was the most natural form of conversation these still-awkward brothers could manage.
“I hear you finally had a child.”
“…Yes, I did.”
“Well now. I can’t say whether that’s something to congratulate or not.”
“In that case, please do congratulate me.”
The Emperor, who had hesitated over the first question, responded without pause to the second. Andronikos stared at him silently, his expression unreadable. After a long pause, he finally burst into laughter.
“So you’ve already made up your mind. In that case, of course I should congratulate you. Congratulations on becoming a father, Konstantinos.”
“Thank you, Brother.”
“The two Empresses seemed to be quite worked up over the news. Empress Joannina, understandably so—but don’t be too harsh with your wife either. They both came to see me, you know.”
“……”
“From the look on your face, I suppose I should stop nagging.”
To see the Emperor—Dragases himself—mouthing words in hesitation, it was hard to believe this was the same man known for his cold resolve. They say you can’t see a person clearly from a distance, and perhaps that was true. Andronikos murmured inwardly. Still, he didn’t dislike this human side. If anything, it made him feel closer.
But what the Empire needed was not humanity.
Andronikos slowly closed his eyes and began to speak of what had been weighing on his mind.
“Konstantinos, why do you think the Ottomans have continued their siege for so long?”
“…Do you have a theory, Brother?”
Indeed, the Emperor had been troubled by the same question. Given Murad’s nature, he would’ve prepared far more drastic measures. The lingering suspicion was due to not knowing exactly what the Sultan was prioritizing.
Had not all the surrounding forces of the Ottomans already fallen?
Even Hungary was still tangled in battles with the Hussites. The Anatolian beyliks had barely survived with Mamluk support, and Wallachia and Serbia were busy recovering from their own defeats. The Empire went without saying.
Perhaps the Ottomans had overextended themselves with repeated campaigns. Still, the fact that they hadn’t loosened the siege of the capital led the Emperor to believe it was to crush any voices opposing reform. But he couldn’t be sure. Could that truly be all the Ottomans sought?
“I hear the capital’s condition has improved lately. The Ottomans are clearly growing weary from the prolonged blockade. Their naval movements around the Golden Horn have slowed, and the Sultan, realizing a complete lockdown is impossible, has withdrawn some troops from certain zones. That’s what Brother John wrote in his letter—surely good news.”
“That’s a relief. Truly.”
“But I still can’t let my guard down.”
Andronikos recalled the despair he had once felt—those humiliating moments when he had no choice but to kneel before overwhelming forces. The days he had thrown away his pride to protect what he could. But what he had felt then was not shame.
“If they’re that exhausted, then why do the Ottomans persist in this siege? There have been far too many events to think it’s merely pressure on the capital.”
He had seen firsthand the fragments of strength the enemy had amassed over time.
That enemy, who had taken everything the Empire once had and made it their own. The might of the Ottomans did not end here.
“Remain vigilant, Konstantinos. I have a bad feeling.”
“…I will, Brother.”
It was the instinct of a man who had lived his entire life on the edge of crisis.
Emperor Dragases quietly resolved to heed his brother’s warning.
TL : I knew they were going to skip most of the romance and he did say he was going to be more loving towards Ivania, but that’s a shocker.
Leave a Reply