He hadn’t harbored much hope.
After all, wasn’t he the one who had lost the capital’s support for allegedly tarnishing the Empire’s dignity?
He hadn’t expected anyone favourable to him to remain. Moreover, the current co-emperor John was thoroughly wary of him. Yet, even if John garnered the capital’s support, the ruler of the Empire was still his father. And his father’s resolve was unwavering.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Constantine.”
“You must have had a tough journey. Were there any issues during your voyage?”
“None so far. For now, at least.”
The boy, whose name was Thomas, spoke with a curiously thrilled tone, his flushed cheeks and eyes gleaming with anticipation. He was a relative sent by his father, one of the few in the Empire who were favourable toward him.
Likely, his father had understood the situation and sent someone who would be an ally rather than a competitor.
Soon, my brother and I strolled through the streets of Athens, engaging in conversation.
Thomas, who initially appeared just slightly above average, exceeded expectations in a positive way.
The rumors of his scholarly diligence in the capital were not unfounded. Thomas had objectively recognized the mistakes made by many in the Empire. Though young and lacking in some areas, he was more than adequate as a political supporter.
“The capture of Athens was an encouraging success. However, I am concerned about the involvement of the Venetians in this matter.”
“Why so?”
“They are people thoroughly dedicated to their national interests. If the Ottoman invasion becomes imminent, they might withdraw instantly. If that happens, the Empire would have to face the Ottoman wrath alone.”
“Precisely why they will fight the Ottomans. They wouldn’t welcome the emergence of a new fleet that threatens their maritime dominance.”
“…So you were considering Venice as a way to deter the Ottoman invasion?”
“Exactly. Rebuilding a fleet would take decades, a loss they wouldn’t ignore.”
“But there’s also the possibility that the Ottomans could initiate an invasion to make up for a naval defeat. Aren’t we placing too much reliance on optimistic assumptions?”
“Of course not. There is a contingency plan prepared. But why do you think that way?”
It wasn’t a typical stance for someone from the capital, where the hardliners dominated. Had the people of the capital heard, they might have labeled him weak. Curious about his reasoning, I asked, and Thomas, with a shadowed expression, replied almost to himself.
“…You can tell from the sea. The Ottomans are strong.”
“You saw something during the voyage.”
“The Ottoman fleet. At least dozens of ships maneuvering in formation, practicing. Though still rough, the fact that they can operate such a sizable fleet indicates their national power.”
Indeed. Ships are not just costly to build but also expensive to maintain, beyond the capabilities of most countries without a solid foundation. The Empire currently had only four ships. The sheer scale of their fleet made the disparity in national power evident.
Thomas knew this well, hence his somber mood.
“Now do you understand what it means to stand against the Ottomans? To protect against a new challenger, to fight against those chosen by history.”
“Chosen by history… Does that mean God has abandoned us?”
The moment I sensed the resignation in his self-deprecating tone, my heart stirred. In this religious age, people attributed everything to God. Their faith not only allowed them to strive for great achievements but also justified easy resignation. It was only natural to think God had abandoned them.
The rise of a new power, repeated civil wars, earthquakes, plagues, and relentless power struggles. All of these occurred within a single century. It wasn’t unreasonable to believe the Empire, reduced to a city-state, had been forsaken.
But to dismiss all these downfalls with a single statement of being forsaken by God? It didn’t sit well with me. What displeased me even more was that convincing them otherwise would also require invoking God’s name.
“Whether we’ve been forsaken or are undergoing a trial is something we can only know after the test is over. Don’t judge hastily. The moment of ruin hasn’t come yet.”
“Haa… So that’s the secret of your strength. The unwavering belief that what everyone sees as the end is merely a trial, which allows you to stand and fight. Father must have recognized this long ago.”
“You’re flattering me too much.”
“No, not at all. No matter how hard I try, I could never be like you.”
Thomas shook his head, letting out a deep sigh. Yet, there was something different. It wasn’t mere resignation. His eyes still sparkled with determination. Watching him, I smiled contentedly and spoke again.
“Good. I didn’t ask Father to send someone like me.”
“Of course. I’m here not to become like you but to support you.”
And I understood. Thomas had resigned himself to the fact that he might never surpass me, but he had not despaired. By reaffirming what he must do and why he had come here, he followed our father’s will.
The will of the Emperor.
“Father told me, even if Your Highness turns your blade toward your kin, to trust and follow you. To believe in the devotion and sacrifice hidden within the resolve to cut down even your own blood.”
“Devotion and sacrifice aren’t always right, Thomas.”
“Right and wrong only matter at the gates of heaven. For those of us who are mere earthly rulers, what matters is whether something is necessary or not.”
Thomas, who had been speaking without pause, suddenly widened his eyes and began to look anxious. I wondered why, but his next words brought a smile to my face.
“…I fear I may have been disrespectful to Your Highness. I hope I haven’t caused any offense?”
Eyes convey many emotions, and this time was no exception. Anxiousness, tension, fear, worry. I couldn’t let this young boy carry the heavy burden I had always borne here.
What was there to be angry about in the first place? Resolving immediately, I extended my hand to Thomas in a gesture of goodwill.
“You are a prince of Epirus, and I am a prince of Morea. There’s no cause for disrespect. Stand tall, Thomas. You are a prince.”
“A prince… a prince indeed…”
Thomas might not fully grasp what it means to be a ruler, unlike me, with my unique background. But he seemed to have already understood his duties as a member of the royal family, if not entirely as a sovereign. Regaining his composure, Thomas firmly grasped the hand I offered.
“Thank you for holding on, Your Highness. Now, I will hold on with you.”
“I look forward to it, my young friend.”
There is something conveyed through the clasped hands—trust. It was different from when I first met John. Even in the midst of a civil war where brothers might kill each other, I was confident that Thomas and I would not turn our fangs on each other. It must have been this possibility that our seasoned father, Manuel, had placed his hopes in. And Father’s judgment proved to be right.
Trust overcame the greed for power that even blood could not.
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