Skanderbeg, who had suddenly stopped his movements, and the Ottoman main force, which had begun lifting the siege.
This action was not merely strange—it was outright suspicious. It was impossible to overlook. Coincidentally, this was also when Morea had just begun making efforts to establish ties with Albania.
Wasn’t the timing far too perfect? While Halid moved to verify the truth of the rumors surrounding Skanderbeg, the Emperor began to meet frequently with Sophia in pursuit of cooperation with the Jews. Though, admittedly, she had grown somewhat prickly of late.
“You never showed the slightest sign of wanting to share a bed for years, and now suddenly you’re with child. How fascinating. My belly remains unchanged, you know.”
“You agreed to the conditions, did you not, my lady?”
“Haa… But that doesn’t mean I can’t be disappointed. If Your Majesty is seriously considering an alliance with Serbia, you should begin preparing soon. My father’s health has been declining lately, after all.”
“Your father… you mean Lord Stefan.”
Stefan Lazarević.
The very man who, by cooperating with the reckless schemes of the former John and attacking the Ottomans, had dragged Morea into the war. At the same time, he was surprisingly weak to his daughter, Sophia. If what Sophia said was true, it would be a reasonable situation—but only if her words were sincere. What could be said for certain was that the Empire had been too focused on the Ottomans to spare much attention for Serbia.
Now that Serbia stood in a risky position between the Ottomans and Hungary, word of Stefan’s failing health was a sign that the power dynamics of the Balkans might soon shift. Among the issues likely to grow most important was the matter of succession. Stefan Lazarević, ruler of Serbia, had no sons. The Emperor Dragases, reminded of this fact, fixed his gaze on Sofia.
“Surely Lord Stefan wouldn’t consider you his heir…”
“Who knows? If only I had presented him with a grandchild.”
“……”
“Well, enough jokes. Father has never considered me his heir, so he’ll likely choose someone among our relatives.”
“I see… So you’re warning me because you fear a weakening of ties with Serbia?”
“There’s that, but this concerns Your Majesty just as much.”
Sophia’s expression was unusually impassive. The fake smile she always wore had vanished, leaving behind a doll-like face. Her flawless, dark eyes looked straight at the Emperor.
“Serbia sees Your Majesty as essential to standing against the Ottomans. But they haven’t forgotten your past behaviour. They likely see a lack of trustworthiness in you as an ally. And would such thoughts be limited to Serbia alone?”
“I take it you have something you wish to say, my lady.”
“The Christian lords of Albania probably also recognize Your Majesty’s importance in standing against the Ottomans. Yet none of them have approached Morea until now. They see that you act only for the preservation of Morea and the Empire. Perhaps they fear, as Serbia does, that Albania might be discarded as well?”
“Is that merely an opinion?”
“Who can say? How Your Majesty chooses to act this time will surely influence how others judge you. As a wife offering her counsel, I merely thought to inform you. I trust there’s no issue with that?”
She spoke vaguely, but even if it was simply a guess—or an assertion—Sophia’s words were not to be ignored. If one wants to build alliances, one must demonstrate faith. It is trust that sustains alliances made of necessity. The real issue lies in the means. What should he do? After pondering, the Emperor could only offer an answer that he did not find agreeable.
“Very well. I will accept your suggestion, my lady.”
“Honestly… I never imagined it would take years just to persuade you.”
“You sound as if you expected this outcome all along.”
“Well, Your Majesty is the sort of person who would do anything to defeat the Ottomans.”
Though Sophia replied with a smile, the Emperor could not accept her words so easily. He may have succeeded in establishing a fragile trust, but it had not grown into anything more. The Emperor, convinced there was some hidden intent behind her words, remained wary, while Sophia offered nothing but a silent smile. Clearly enjoying the attention, she grinned for a while before finally speaking again, some time later.
“Well then, now that I’ve secured your promise, I should deliver what needs to be delivered.”
“…This is…”
Was he too distracted by her expression to notice it earlier? When her hands, which had been folded neatly atop her lap, moved, they revealed a sealed letter that had until then been hidden. With perfect composure, Sophia placed the letter on the desk. In this situation, there was only one question the Emperor needed to ask.
“Who sent this letter?”
“One of the lords who noticed Your Majesty’s interest in Albania.”
So he’d walked right into it.
The Emperor snatched up the letter and glared at Sophia. But the cunning Empress’s expression remained unchanged—she simply looked delighted.
Now he understood the reason behind her earlier amusement. But it was too late. The Emperor sighed and unfolded the letter. Its contents were brief. It wasn’t an official letter to be dressed up in flowery language.
Given the need to avoid Ottoman eyes, the letter’s few words made sense. With that in mind, the Emperor read through it and quickly grasped its message.
“Straightforward enough. A proposal for forming an alliance against Ottoman forces.”
The message he had been planning to propose had come from the other side first. The Emperor took it as an encouraging sign. It opened the door for Morea to intervene in Albania. The Albanians also saw the Ottomans as a threat and felt the need to join forces.
That was fortunate. But one letter was not enough to set his mind at ease. The Emperor also quickly recognized its limitation.
“Still, the problem is that this letter doesn’t represent all of Albania. An alliance limited to a single noble house won’t stand long against the Ottomans. We’ll need to rally all of Albania.”
“…That’s your way of telling me to listen closely, isn’t it?”
“Indeed. How can I trust a letter that doesn’t even name its sender?”
“Don’t worry, it wasn’t an oversight. The Prince of Epirus personally insisted that the sender’s name be conveyed only by word of mouth.”
“Then let’s hear what mysterious name awaits us, my lady.”
“The family that sent this letter is the Kastrioti. A house currently in a difficult position.”
“Kastrioti…?”
The name felt strangely familiar. Familiar enough to make the Emperor tilt his head in puzzlement. But the confusion didn’t last long. He soon realized why the name Kastrioti rang a bell. The shock nearly made him jump to his feet, and he had to force himself back into his chair as his hands began to tremble.
“Is that so. So you’re from the House of Kastrioti, of Skanderbeg.”
“Oh my, you already knew?”
“Of course I did.”
The emperor, overcome with excitement, even forgot the honorifics he had maintained while speaking with Sophia.
That was how unexpected this was. As he felt the thumping of his heart that refused to calm, the emperor began to gather his thoughts in an effort to regain his composure.
The name Skanderbeg was merely an title given by the Ottomans. It was a name bestowed upon a boy taken to serve as a Janissary. Which meant he certainly had a given name before becoming a Janissary. And Skanderbeg’s real name was none other than Gjergj Kastrioti.
If that very Gjergj Kastrioti was now conquering all of Albania under the name Skanderbeg, then naturally the House of Kastrioti would find itself in an awkward position.
“Now I see why you proposed an alliance limited to your house. It seems the Kastrioti family is in quite a difficult situation even among the Albanian lords. It’s clear they can’t engage in proper cooperation.”
At the same time, he could also guess why Skanderbeg’s campaign had been so successful. People couldn’t tell whether to interpret his attacks as actions of the Kastrioti family, or as decisions from the Ottoman court. Add to that Skanderbeg’s own capabilities, and the Albanians had no real way to respond properly.
It was a mere assumption, but the emperor didn’t take it lightly. As he sat in awe, he let out a sigh filled with frustration and slammed his hand down on the desk before him. The first strike was weak and caused little commotion. But as he slammed it down a second, third time, veins began bulging in his hand.
“Just how far—!”
The disparity between the Empire and the Ottomans was hopeless. And yet the Ottomans never let down their guard. They continually worked to conceal and compensate for their weaknesses. A prime example was how, as soon as they realized the inherent disadvantage of fighting on multiple fronts, they began moving in secret.
“Just how far are they willing to go—!”
The matter of Skanderbeg was the same. Had Halid not passed on the information, he would have been forced to watch the situation in Albania deteriorate without even knowing what was happening. While he still didn’t have all the details, what was clear was that the Ottomans were now acting far more cunningly and meticulously than before.
This is the competence of a prepared victor.
Forgetting that Sophia was right in front of him, the emperor repeatedly slammed the desk before finally managing to calm himself. At times, anger can overwhelm a person’s reason.
But there are also those who suppress that searing rage and move with cold precision. In the emperor’s eyes—having barely reclaimed his cold clarity—a steely glint now turned toward Sophia before him. Only then did he realize how he must have looked.
He expected Sophia to respond negatively in some way.
But she neither scowled nor looked afraid.
With a smile in her eyes, Sophia looked up at the emperor, her lips curled into a slight smirk. And the moment the emperor met her gaze, she lifted her pale right hand to her chin and rested it there, her face full of satisfaction.
“Even if you complain like that… in the end, you’re going to take up the challenge anyway, aren’t you?”
The emperor gave no reply.
Instead of an answer, he issued an imperial command.
“Madam, I ask that you lend more attention to the affairs of the capital. In the meantime, I will use this letter as a pretext to seek contact with the Albanians.”
“And how will you do that? You’re well aware the Ottomans are watching your every move.”
“I’ll need to make it appear as something other than political contact. In Albania, there are both those who follow the Western Church and those who remain loyal to the Orthodox Church. If I claim to be initiating an exchange between the two churches—who have grown distant since the last war with the Latins—I may be able to avoid Ottoman eyes.”
Having said that, the emperor recalled a suitable envoy.
“Bishop Nicephoros should be well-suited for the task. Coincidentally, we were already looking to improve relations with the Western Church, so this could serve as an opportunity to make contact with the Papacy.”
“Hehe… This is exactly why I like you, Your Majesty. I’ll happily follow your command.”
“……”
Unbothered by the emperor’s stare, Sophia rose to her feet. As she turned and left, the emperor felt a sharp headache rising. But he couldn’t afford to sit still. He had to complete the early preparations for the contact with Albania. Soon, the emperor picked up a pen and paper and began writing down his thoughts one by one.
Even if this is an Ottoman trap, it doesn’t matter.
The goal of this mission was to help the Albanians clearly distinguish friend from foe and unite them under a single banner. And then, to form an alliance with them. Even if the Kastrioti family was being used as bait, so long as he could join hands with the other lords, it might just become an opportunity to turn the tide.
The emperor’s judgment was correct.
But no matter how much one tries, the truth cannot be seen without knowing the other party’s true intentions. The emperor vowed to stay vigilant, ever wary of what the Ottomans were truly aiming for. Yet even he could not guess just how many pieces the Ottomans had already put in place.
No one had been able to stop them—now, the Ottomans were on the move.
A dagger that even Emperor Dragases failed to notice quietly tore through the fragile net they had barely managed to weave.
It took less than a month for news of the first sign to arrive.
TL : I think Vlad the Impaler is born around this time in history.
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