Category: About a Dating Sim Where Dating Is Impossible

The prince’s decision unsettled the capital.

The nobles were outraged by Prince Konstantinos’ choice, openly criticizing him for insulting a highly esteemed grand noble. A once-celebrated hero was now branded a traitor who had sullied the empire’s pride.

Only Co-Emperor John refrained from uttering any slander against Konstantinos. Instead, he began arranging for the second prince, Theodoros, to be matched with Joannina, whose engagement had been broken off.

In the wake of the scandal and her rejection by the prince, Joannina secluded herself in her chambers for some time.

The servants, understanding her turmoil, did not attempt to coax her outside. It was understandable. It would not have been surprising if Joannina’s heart was shattered. Occasionally, her father, Andreas, would knock pitifully on her door, only to turn away in sorrow.

“I should never have arranged a marriage with the royal family from the start. If I had known it would come to this, I would have sent her to be a nun instead…”

Regret always comes too late.

Yet, contrary to everyone’s expectations, Joannina did not break. When she reappeared after some time, her demeanor and actions bore no trace of a broken heart. She had spent days replaying the prince’s dismissive words, and now, socializing naturally among those who didn’t know how to treat her, she held a glass firmly in her hand.

“Inadequate,” he had said.

Joannina had never considered herself lacking. She had worked hard enough to stand beside a prince, and all who had witnessed her efforts acknowledged it. So what had he seen to deem her insufficient? The past few days were spent searching for an answer to this question.

Finally, Joannina found a response she could accept.

“The only condition where Serbia might seem preferable than Kantakouzenos would be the number of soldiers and economic power they could mobilize.”

At the same time, she realized who the right woman to stand beside the prince was. Being a supportive wife meant nothing. What Constantine needed wasn’t a warm human connection. He wanted a partner who could join him politically.

As she smiled at those around her, Joannina’s mind continued to analyze.

“In other words, that’s all there is to it. The prince chose Serbia solely for that reason.”

He was a man who would discard what was no longer useful without hesitation. Whatever merits the Serbian princess had, Joannina knew her own legitimacy and prestige within the empire surpassed them.

Once she secured enough economic and military power, the outcome would be different. With all external factors removed, she would rely solely on her innate charm as a woman to challenge.

Having resolved her course of action, Joannina walked through the crowd with more confidence than ever before.

At the end of her path waited her father, Andreas Kantakouzenos, who had been lost in regret. As a father rather than a noble, he cast aside his mask and embraced his beloved daughter tightly.

“I’m sorry, Joannina. I forced something too difficult upon you. I promise never to do so again.”

“Thank you, Father, for truly caring for me.” Joannina buried her face deeper into his embrace. As they shared a powerful connection, she slowly spoke.

“Father, I have a request.”

“Tell me. I’ll do anything for you.”

Andreas, filled with regret, readily agreed. Joannina looked up at him with clear determination, knowing her request was unreasonable.

“Please arrange for me to meet His Majesty John.”

The relief on Andreas’ face hardened. He pondered his daughter’s words for a long time before responding.

“No. I don’t want to use you in any more power struggles. I’ve seen the harm my ambitions have brought you, and I won’t repeat the same mistake.”

He rejected her firmly. Yet Joannina’s resolve was not shaken by her father’s opposition. Instead, she gripped his arms tightly and laid out her reasoning.

“Given the situation, our family must have connection with the imperial family. Otherwise, the nobles angered by the insult from the royal family will rally behind someone else, sparking a civil war. I don’t believe we can remain safe at the heart of this turmoil.”

“So, you’re willing to marry against your wishes? Joannina, if this is your way of reproaching my mistakes, I’ll kneel and apologize right now. What is power worth if it causes my beloved daughter such pain? I’d rather give it all up.”

“Thank you, Father. I’m glad you’d go so far for me.”

Still. At her next words, Andreas closed his eyes tightly.

“But I don’t want to retreat.”

What a resilient woman she had become. Despite the humiliation and disgrace, she stood firm, making her father proud yet ashamed of himself. He felt nothing but regret. Determined to do his best for her, Andreas finally nodded slowly.

Thus, following the Kantakouzenos family’s proposal, the imperial government allowed John and Joannina to meet.

Due to the prince’s drastic decision, which had destabilized the government’s political standing, it became necessary to show leniency toward the clear victim, the Kantakouzenos family. For this reason, the young Emperor John beamed at the bold young lady standing before him.

“I deeply regret the previous engagement matter. It was a significant incident that tarnished the prestige of a renowned grand noble, and we are contemplating more certain compensation.

But if there is something you desire more than what we can offer, please speak up.

We will make every effort to accommodate your request as closely as possible.”

With a bright demeanor that could easily win the favor of his subjects, John seemed a skilled diplomat adept at crafting his image. Joannina, after briefly analysing the new emperor, confidently presented her demand.

“Your Majesty, I assume you are also considering a new union between me and the imperial family.”

“Of course, given the Kantakouzenos family’s reputation, that is a natural decision.”

It seems this will proceed smoothly, John thought to himself. As he did, Ioannina bit her lower lip lightly. To stand beside the prince, she had to transform into a politician, not merely a woman—a dictator who suppresses emotions with cold reason. She continually drove herself forward.

But what meaning would there be if, in the end, I lost myself as a woman? I want to be by his side. I won’t give up. I’ll work as hard as I need to for that.

…Still, I want to be loved as a woman.

She swallowed hard. She had resolved not to retreat.

Tears were now reserved only for moments of joy.

“But you must know that the dissolution of this engagement cannot be patched up with a superficial union.”

“I am aware. That is why we are considering the second prince, Theodoros…”

“That won’t suffice.”

The words were cut off sharply. The young emperor’s smile vanished. Sensitive from the burden of safeguarding his throne, John quickly adopted a more aggressive stance. His eyes ignited with intensity as he fixed his gaze on the Kantakouzenos lady.

“What more do you want?”

This is where it begins.

Reaffirming her resolve, Joannina did not flinch in the face of the emperor’s overt hostility.

“I desire a share in imperial power. There could be no more solid proof of the bond between our family and the royal house.”

John did not respond immediately but instead chose to press his lips firmly together.

After a pause, he displayed a smirk that was entirely different from the smile he had shown earlier—one of skepticism.

“Did Konstantinos instruct you to say this?”

“No, it is solely my personal thought.”

“So, Konstantinos has rejected the grace that came his way. Or perhaps… he has become more tempered through this ordeal.”

Regaining his composure, John slowly rose and walked to the window. After a moment, he spoke again, gazing at the sea and the capital’s expanse beyond.

“I had considered strengthening Theodoros to check Konstantinos. But this approach might not be bad either. The resolute Kantakouzenos lady—surely, you have something else you wish for, having come to see me personally?”

Joannina flinched slightly. At this, John chuckled softly.

“I promise you this: I will protect your purity. I have no interest in forcibly taking a woman who loves another.”

“…Are you certain?”

“An emperor does not speak in vain.”

Still gazing out over the capital, John concluded.

“As long as I can keep this throne.”

---

TL : Nah this chapter is crazy. might need to drop this

[Theodoros]

The man most displeased by the recent uproar, which shook the empire and the Balkans, was none other than Theodoros.

As the second imperial prince, next in line for the throne after John, he should have been outraged by Serbia’s diplomatic offense in abruptly canceling the marriage arrangement.

However, Theodoros’ heart was calmer than ever.

In fact, it was closer to joy. No one was more pleased with Konstantinos’ decision than Theodoros himself.

“Everything is going smoothly, very smoothly.”

Had the marriage with the Kantakouzenos family been successful, none would have been closer to the throne than Konstantinos.
But now the circumstances had changed. The prideful subjects and nobles of the empire would not tolerate Serbia’s impudent demands and Konstantinos’ agreement. What if the most noble victims of Serbia’s sudden whimsy were to unite?

With legitimacy and cause, he could gain strong support and rapidly expand his modest power.

He never entertained the thought of rejection. The Kantakouzenos family had long sought to strengthen their ties with the imperial family. The wishes of the young lady in question were insignificant in the face of such grand historical movements.

“Come to think of it, they say the Kantakouzenos lady is quite beautiful.”

If they were to be united, it would certainly be preferable if she were lovely. Theodoros, with a light laugh, began to indulge in pleasant imaginings.

[John]

The reign of Manuel, who had once upheld the empire, was coming to an end.

Now, the aged and weary emperor looked up at his successor, who would lead a new era. He was astonished by the change in his son, who had once known only how to smile brightly.

“Did you have to drive him so hard?”

Few could welcome the discord between their children. Manuel, a father before he was an emperor, found it difficult to accept. Yet, who could blame John, who stood as a brother?

It was Konstantinos, aiming for the throne, who had made the first move. John, defending the throne, retorted sharply to his father’s defense of Konstantinos.

“Father, I am the one who must protect the throne. It was precisely because we are brothers that this was necessary.”

“How can you doubt his dedication to the empire? You, more than anyone, have seen and supported Konstantinos’ loyalty.”

His words seemed to shield Konstantinos to the end.

Why would his father say such things? How could he maintain a facade of innocence after orchestrating these events?

Eventually, John unleashed the anger he had been harboring toward his father.

“Did you not push him to the point where I had to test whether it was loyalty or ambition…?”

For years, they had not spoken, yet never doubted each other’s hearts. Who could have predicted that trust would crumble upon meeting, particularly over the rightful inheritance?

“You trusted him because you had watched over him for so long, but I am different. To protect my rights and duties, I have no choice but to suspect those close to me. And thanks to you granting Konstantinos immense power, I had to be even more cautious.”

“It was because I had confidence, John.”

“Indeed! Because you had that confidence, you granted Konstantinos that power. It was a sound judgment. Everyone praises that choice. But just as you had confidence and empowered him, I needed to believe that Konstantinos would not betray me.”

John clutched his chest as if trying to rip it apart. How ideal it would be to trust someone without any price.

However, to gain the right to possess everything, one must bear the duty to doubt everything.

“I merely needed the confidence you spoke of, Father.”

John’s piercing blue eyes met his father’s.

Manuel responded with silence.

Are you speechless? Disappointed, John turned away from Manuel and approached the window.

The awkward silence between father and son stretched on. After a while, Manuel, swimming in anguish, lowered his head.

“…What will you do now? The alliance between Kantakouzenos and Konstantinos you desired will not come to pass. Instead, Konstantinos has secured Serbia.”

“Konstantinos will never seek the throne until he has driven out the Turks. His choices were made with that in mind, as was the severing of ties.”

“And the poor Kantakouzenos lady?”

Even John, who had begun to display his qualities as a ruler, hesitated for a moment. A poor woman, her life ensnared by a man wholly devoted to the salvation of the empire, had ultimately become wretched. Yet, the fate of a noblewoman seldom flowed according to her own desires. With time, it would resolve itself. John slowly parted his lips.

“I will give her to Theodoros. Along with the title of designated regent, I will make her his, showing that I am a better partner than Konstantinos.”

“You once asked how cruel you could be to Konstantinos.”

“Yes, I did. And I saw Konstantinos become astoundingly cruel in pursuit of his goals.”

Manuel’s passive attempts to restrain him were no match for John’s firm resolve. As soon as he finished speaking, John slowly turned to his father, his expression no longer that of a son but of an emperor.

“I will protect this throne. From the Turks and from my ambitious brothers.”

---

Under the crescent banner, there are those who wielded their swords to fulfill the prophecy of the Prophet Muhammad.

Since the time of the first Osman, the Turks, with their outstanding leadership, had established a vast empire encompassing the Balkans and Asia Minor. Though they suffered a dreadful division due to the unforeseen onslaught of Timur, even that was put to rest under the name of the current Sultan, Mehmed I. Now, the Turks desired but one thing: to inherit the legacy of the thousand-year empire.

To fulfill the prophecy spoken by the Prophet was the duty and hope of all Muslims.

“Yet, Father, it seems you have forsaken your rightful duties as a Muslim.”

The Sultan gazed down at the imposing prince before him and sighed. How could a son resemble his father so closely? Bayezid, the conqueror, fierce and merciless to infidels. His son’s name was Murad, and he had inherited that very temperament.

“Murad, you urge me to break an oath I swore before my foster father. Do not speak foolishly. You know that an oath taken in the name of God cannot be broken.”

“How can you claim to follow God when you disregard the words of the Prophet? How could you revere such a man as your father? If that oath truly hinders you from fulfilling the prophecy, then the name of Sultan exists for one purpose alone.”

Mehmed could not find words to counter his son’s forceful spirit.

He did not feel ashamed or humiliated. Even Mehmed, mild in nature, was a conqueror by blood and knew he could not overcome a son armed with faith.

“It is time to fulfill that mission. Pass the title of Sultan to me.”

…Even so, Mehmed was also a son of Osman and the offspring of the great ruler Bayezid. To step aside without resistance would be disgraceful.

“I am also a son of Osman and have wielded the sword. Do not think I will relinquish it easily. Never forget where you came from.”

Unfortunately, it was a warning that had no effect on Murad. Turning away coldly, Murad addressed his father in a detached tone.

“The life of a slave can be ended with a few coins. So too can the life of a noble Sultan.”

They were no longer father and son. As rivals vying for the same position, Murad had already made his decision.

---

TL : I don’t know why Mehmed I considers Manuel II his foster father, as it is historically inaccurate. Maybe I am leaning more towards real-world history than realizing it’s alternate history, even though most of the characters are real people.

Serbia’s sudden annulment of the engagement and proposal of new marriage terms stirred considerable repercussions.

This act was an insult to Theodoros, who had originally been in marriage discussions, and a severe blow to me, who had become the center of attention due to recent scandals.

The choice between marrying the Serbian princess or a lady from the venerable Kantakouzenos family posed immense losses on either side, making it difficult to reach a conclusion.

Serbia was one of the most influential allies the empire could gain. For Serbia, the empire was also a beneficial ally both politically and strategically.

The original intent was for Theodoros to strengthen ties by marrying into Serbia. Yet, they abruptly annulled the engagement and proposed a new match.

“This is absurd. How could they do this unless they were utterly shameless? And to point to someone already engaged in another marriage discussion!”

The nobles’ words replayed in my mind. The other party wasn’t an ordinary noble but a lady from a once powerful family that had once split the nation over the throne.

Cancelling a match with her to marry into Serbia would provoke a massive backlash. The support of the nobles might be forfeited, making the path to the throne perilous.

And what if I proceeded with the current engagement?

How committed would Serbia be to this alliance? Serbia was indispensable in the struggle against the Ottomans.

With Hungary’s support uncertain, it was necessary to form a containment network to deter an Ottoman invasion. Had Theodoros succeeded in his marriage, things would have been smooth. A sigh of regret mingled with a surge of caution.

The timing of Serbia’s proposal was too precise.

Typically, without understanding where the empire’s power was concentrated or who held the most significant influence, one would focus only on the line of succession.

The realization that someone well-versed in the empire’s internal dynamics was abroad was never a comforting one. Refusing this match could mean turning a highly interested foreign party into an adversary.

Numerous other issues bombarded my mind.

Serbia’s potential interference in internal affairs, the unrest among internal supporters, and the Ottomans’ reaction were all heavy issues that couldn’t be overlooked. The decision between the two marriage proposals was a crucial turning point, with the empire facing substantial losses regardless of the choice.

I had to choose between two paths.

The first was to sit on the throne and inherit the crown. Marrying Joannina would strengthen my faction, giving me considerable leverage in future succession disputes.

Aligning with the Kantakouzenos family would allow me to control both the capital and Morea. Successfully securing this marriage would make it easier to seize what remained of the shattered empire.

The bloodshed in the process would be minimal. Even if a civil war broke out, without foreign intervention, my side would likely prevail.

The easiest path to becoming emperor.

But I am not John.

I am not someone who must become emperor.

Demicleos conspired with the archbishop to involve me in the succession dispute, but that was all. As I once declared to them, I would claim the throne at a time of my choosing.

My struggle through these days of despair was for a singular reason.

It was merely that I couldn’t indulge in pleasure alone. There were too many tears shed by others for me to rejoice alone. The journey of decline I had passed through was long and exhausting.

Ultimately, I disliked seeing people resign themselves to their fate and succumb to the inevitable.

…The second option was to accept the criticism and forge an alliance with Serbia.

To expel the Ottomans, I was willing to risk losing internal support. More important than the distant throne was fighting against the new era’s contender, who could not coexist under the same sky.

I made up my mind.

//

Following the scandal involving an Italian mercenary leader and Serbia’s diplomatic discourtesy, the rulers of the Balkans watched Prince Constantine’s decision closely.

Between the lady of the Kantakouzenos family and the Serbian princess, who would he choose? Either choice was sure to significantly impact the Balkans’ political landscape.

In this moment of monumental decision, in front of the aged Emperor Manuel and the young Emperor John, Prince Constantine made a extreme choice.

“I will marry the Serbian princess.”

The first to question the statement, which was bound to cause a significant stir, was John. His brow furrowed in disbelief, and he cast a questioning look at his younger brother.

“Why did you suddenly change your mind? No, perhaps that’s not the right question.”

John held back his words. The passionate emperor remained doubtful.

“Why did you abandon the alliance with the Kantakouzenos family?”

The prince had already made up his mind. As always, he was prepared to sever ties decisively. He would not let emotions sway him in matters concerning the empire’s fate. With unwavering determination, the prince voiced his resolve.

“This has been the path I’ve walked from the beginning. I have dedicated my brief life entirely to this nation, aware of the changing times and concerned about its collapse amidst revolution.”

“Konstantinos…”

Manuel’s brief sigh carried a bitter note. John, too, pressed his lips tightly together, signaling his reluctant understanding.

Who else, from such a young age, would awaken to the brutal reality and struggle so fiercely? None in the empire could deny Prince Konstantinos’ devotion to its cause.

“I have lived knowing that I cannot always insist on the best, occasionally choosing second best. Yet, choosing an alternative does not mean I have resigned. On the contrary, it shows my determination to see it through to the end.”

“So, are you saying you’re giving up the best path to the throne?”

The prince shook his head.

“I’m not giving up the best path to the throne. I’m merely pursuing the best way to save the empire.”

“And what of the feelings of the Kantakouzenos lady, who cherishes you? How far are you willing to go in your ruthlessness, Constantine?”

Despite John’s probing, Prince Konstantinos did not waver. His resolute gaze met his brother’s as he responded calmly.

“I already told you. Sometimes, I have to choose the second-best path.”

With those final words, the prince turned his back on the two emperors. As soon as he exited the office, he encountered a young woman standing outside.

The recently blossomed lady looked up at the prince, unable to hide the trembling in her eyes. The prince, too, couldn’t completely suppress his unease and flinched slightly.

The awkwardness between them did not last long. Joannina was the first to speak.

“Was I lacking?”

Her trembling voice carried countless unspoken meanings.

The prince remained silent for a moment before he responded, cold and unfeeling once more.

“Yes, you were lacking.”

“Is that so, I was lacking…”

“Yes, terribly.”

The prince’s thoughts no longer lingered on Joannina. Who could have orchestrated such a forced meeting? His gaze turned toward the still-open door to the office.

At the end of his gaze stood John, his face frozen in a chilling expression. The prince addressed him not as a brother, but as a subject.

“Your Majesty.”

“According to you, she was lacking.”

John soon broke into his usual bright smile.

“Yes, terribly.”

Not only the empire felt threatened by the ever-ascending Ottomans.

The Christian powers of the Balkans and Eastern Europe were alarmed by the expanding Islamic forces. They even appealed to the Pope to launch crusaders against the Ottomans, though all such attempts ended in failure. Despite these setbacks, some continued to resist the Ottomans.

Serbia stood out in this resistance.

Foreseeing that the Ottoman power would eventually engulf the entire Balkans, Serbia resisted fiercely. Unfortunately for the empire, Serbia’s resistance consistently resulted in devastating defeats, numerous lost battles, and the death of its king. Consequently, anti-Ottoman sentiment in Serbia runs deep.

Thus, it is not surprising that Serbia sought to ally with the empire against the Ottomans. The Serbian prince, Stefan, was drawn to an alliance with the empire, which had recently begun to regain its strength.

“Didn’t we arrange a suitable match for you?”

As the empire also sought strong allies against the Ottomans, this marriage proposal was a win-win strategy eagerly anticipated by both sides. The empire believed that its hidden plans and the combined forces of the marital alliance could successfully expel the Ottomans from the Balkans.

However, an unexpected turn of events shook both Stefan, who had been stabilizing a war-torn Serbia, and the aged Emperor Manuel II, a seasoned statesman who had sustained the empire for decades.

The twist came from Sophia, the Serbian princess central to this marital alliance.

“Did you really think that?”

Sophia sighed as she cast a pitying glance at her father. This proud young lady, who had always exceeded her father’s expectations with her clever wit, seemed far removed from the image of a shy maiden. Instead, Sophia’s inherent ambition had sharpened her senses considerably.

Given that Stefan had relied on Sophia’s advice to stabilize his rule, he decided to heed her words, even though she could be somewhat disrespectful.

“Was it the wrong choice?”

“Whether realizing it now is fortunate or unfortunate, I can’t tell.”

The subtle gaze from his daughter left Stefan feeling a pang of disappointment. He regretted spoiling her too much, leading her to become so willful. Reflecting on his parenting approach, he asked his daughter, this time as a ruler:

“Explain your reasoning. And tell me about the person you’ve chosen and why.”

“I really love how you always make rational decisions, Papa. I love you, Papa♡.”

The reason he could always tolerate his impolite daughter was her occasional displays of affection. The bitterness quickly melted away.

Stefan was a doting father.

“…So, what’s your reasoning?”

“I suppose you thought securing the alliance would be easier given his high succession rank. If the current emperor’s regime were stable, that wouldn’t be wrong. But the problem is, we’re in a period of transition.

The current emperor, Manuel, made a significant blunder.”

Sophia highlighted the aging emperor’s declining insight, noting that while his skilful handling had prolonged the empire’s life, even the sharpest minds falter with age.

She viewed his recent actions with mild disappointment but acknowledged that it was inevitable for one’s judgment to deteriorate with age.

“A blunder?”

“Yes, he concentrated too much power on a son who isn’t the designated heir. Had he stuck to the original plan of division, he could have prevented the instability caused by the succession. But now, it’s too late. From what I’ve observed, the empire is fractured into multiple factions.”

Succession planning is the final, most vexing challenge for any ruler, as its success or failure can determine whether their legacy endures. Reflecting on this, Stefan cautiously posed another question:

“Can you assess Manuel’s sons?”

Sophia responded with a confident smile.

“If you were to marry the current co-emperor, John, it would immediately solidify an alliance with the empire. However, the cost Serbia would bear to sustain his unstable regime would be enormous. But it seems the empire has no intention of pairing me with John, so there’s no need to worry.”

“Short-sighted, then?”

“Marrying John has too many pros and cons. From my perspective, it’s a risky and inferior option.”

“What about the other brothers?”

“The youngest, Demetrios and Thomas, are exceptions. They’re too young and lack significant support, making their chances of inheriting the throne the lowest. For both the empire, which needs to form an alliance quickly, and us, they aren’t viable options. The only advantage would be that I could somewhat manipulate them from behind the scenes, but that’s only possible if they gain power. Can we wait until then?”

Stefan shook his head. It was an absurd notion. Supporting the untested Demetrios and Thomas was far riskier than marrying John.

Naturally, they weren’t candidates Sophia would consider.

“That leaves two others if we exclude those three.”

“So, you proposed Theodoros, the one with the highest succession rank among the two.”

“Father, I’ve thoroughly analyzed the power players or potential power players in the empire to help you. One incident caught my eye.”

As Stefan remained silent, Sophia continued without hesitation, her confidence in power radiating through her words.

“The second prince, Theodoros, transferred the ownership of Achaea to Prince Constantine, the ruler of Morea at the time. The extent of the rights given was too significant to be merely a gesture of goodwill.”

“It’s an alliance. They’ve allied to claim the throne.”

Though Stefan had some suspicions, his daughter’s words solidified his understanding. He had hoped to support Theodoros, who already had a support base, to easily forge a powerful alliance. However, Sophia was delving deeper into the reasons behind this alliance.

“At the time of transferring Achaea, it was unclear what Prince Constantine, the ruler of Morea, intended. Was he using Theodoros as a puppet to establish a regime where he held real power, or was he using Theodoros as a shield to deflect the backlash when he deposed his brother, who currently holds the throne?”

But the guess turned out to be much more favorable. Sophia felt a thrill as she subtly licked her lips, savoring the excitement.

“When he chose a lady from the Kantakouzenos family as his bride, his intentions became clear.”

Her ambition pointed sharply at the prince.

“Father, Prince Constantine aims to become emperor himself. He has Morea, a stable base he has solidified over the years, a domain with the freedom, rights, and military power that the fallen thousand-year-old capital could never possess.”

Moreover, he is the only claimant to the throne who possesses all the necessary conditions to become emperor. Constantine has everything needed to challenge John’s regime and establish his own.

“By recovering the Peloponnesian peninsula, a long-cherished goal of the empire, he gained the people’s support. Over the years, he has proven his capabilities and boasts a noble lineage. Furthermore, his mother, the empress, is from our Serbia, is she not? For the nobility, there would be no complaints about a marriage alliance of this caliber.”

“But hasn’t he already set his sights on marrying a noblewoman?”

At this, the ambitious smile vanished from Sophia’s face. The eyes, once ablaze with greed, now cooled, tempered by the same ambition.

“It’s simply a choice between securing a stable regime with the nobles’ support or gaining an allied force to stand against the Ottomans.”

Sophia covered her mouth, but her voice grew more excited.

“The choice he’ll make is obvious.”

Despite all my efforts to avoid scandal, rumors spread throughout the court.

The love triangle between the two women captivated the curiosity of those who had been craving intriguing news.

Why did the embarrassment have to fall on me? Several times, I had to explain my flushed cheeks as a result of a hangover. By the time I escaped the meaningful glances, hours had already passed.

Just as I was about to return to my room and take a moment to rest, an unexpected visitor arrived.

“So, you’re quite popular now, aren’t you?”

Standing before me was my mother, Helena, still majestic and beautiful in her role as the Empress.

Why did she choose to visit at such a moment? Her playful, teasing smile sent a wave of anxiety through me. Sure enough, as soon as she sat beside me, she spoke the words I had been dreading.

“Considering how popular you are, it’s no wonder you haven’t sent a single letter to your mother in nearly ten years.”

“I’ve been extremely busy.”

“Too busy to write even one letter?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“No wonder they say raising children is pointless.”

With those words, I felt a sharp sensation on my head. Reflexively, I rubbed my forehead while my mother blew on her fist. After a moment, she directed her slightly teary, dark eyes towards me and placed her more wrinkled hand on my knee.

“You heartless one.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“If you return to the battlefield again, please write to me. Only then will my heart be at ease.”

I nodded, unable to muster the words.

What followed was light conversation, something we hadn’t shared in a long time. Mundane everyday topics we had been estranged from for so long.

Speaking with such ease and comfort, free from the burdens of my duties, felt distant. But more than anything, I was reminded that this world wasn’t just a game—it was reality.

Yes, reality.

The people I wish to protect are living in this reality.

“….It was good to see you, Constantine. You’ll return to Morea soon, won’t you?”

Even long conversations must come to an end. As a mother, she could have stayed longer, but as the Empress, she stood up, prepared to return to the Emperor’s side. Her question carried a mix of regret, resignation, and faint hope.

I would soon break my mother’s heart. The day when I could truly be a filial son would never come. As long as my siblings and I vied for the throne, a tragic fratricide was inevitable. I might even lose my life on the battlefield before then.

I had distanced myself to avoid seeing my affectionate mother in sorrow.

At least in this moment, I could bring her some joy.

“Don’t worry, Mother. I will return to the capital.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard. I understand how busy you are.”

Though she politely declined, her face lit up with genuine happiness. Despite her age, she remained a beautiful woman in my eyes.

“I’m just happy to hear those words. I’ll wait, so don’t keep me waiting too long.”

“……Yes.”

I wondered if my mother would welcome me as purely as she did now when I returned to the capital.

The fleeting thought darkened my expression. How many people would still welcome me if my hands were stained with my siblings’ blood? Could a future patricide truly yearn for his mother’s embrace?

In a brighter tone, my mother bid farewell.

“You’ve enchanted quite a few young ladies. You’ve had a talent for that since you were little. Just don’t overdo it. One daughter-in-law is enough, understood?”

“…Yes, of course.”

I forced a smile to part on good terms. Fortunately, my mother left without a trace of worry on her face. Did she not notice, or was she pretending not to? I hoped for the former.

As soon as she left, a wave of fatigue washed over me.

I thought of resting. Too lazy to move to the bed, I propped my chin on my hand, lost in thought for a few minutes. Then, the door moved again. Was my mother returning? I quickly adjusted my posture, but the figure that appeared was someone entirely different.

A boy with a sullen expression, his eyes filled with passion. The enmity in his blazing gaze was unmistakable. Had I done something to provoke such hostility? More importantly, who was this boy…?

“Who are you…?”

“Of course, Brother wouldn’t remember me. You’ve barely seen me.”

Pouting, the boy began to wander around, his hands trembling as if suppressing an urge to release his pent-up frustration. Finally, he bit his lower lip and turned to me, shouting.

“At least know whose rightful inheritance you’ve stolen!”

“Rightful inheritance?”

“Exactly! The fame you now enjoy rightfully belongs to me! It was the honor that should have been mine!”

Who was this boy, calling me his elder brother yet accusing me of being a seizer of his rightful claim?

The answer came swiftly as I recalled our family lineage, and my expression hardened. If my assumptions were correct, this boy was indeed my younger brother, Demetrios.

He was also a potential source of further disputes. He was supposed to be the lord of one-third of Morea, which had originally been intended for a tripartite division.

That was Demetrios’s rightful claim.

“You’re mistaken, Demetrios.”

“Mistaken? Those aren’t words that suit a pretender. You convinced Father to take away the land that should have been mine, and now you speak of mistakes?”

“The mistake I’m referring to is in your assumption that I ever considered your words seriously.”

The imperial throne of this fallen empire had many contenders: the powerful Ottomans, the young co-emperor John VIII, my second brother Theodore with whom I had formed a secret pact, and myself, the Prince of Morea.

There had been no room for new competitors for a long time.

I pointed directly at Demetrios’s heart with my index finger and declared:

“Remember this, whether it’s years or decades from now.”

“Are you flaunting your superiority after stealing what wasn’t yours?”

“….What I’m saying is, I’ve already drawn my sword.”

I needed to be ruthless.

“You will receive nothing unless you submit.”

Grinding his teeth audibly, Demetrios turned his back immediately. A royal with no value as an ally was a dangerous subject, especially one as impulsive and reckless as young Demetrios.

Sigh… Dealing with family members always leaves a bitter taste.

“I need to finalize the marriage proposal and return to Morea.”

I muttered to myself, as if to reassure myself of the path ahead.

However, the following day, a completely unexpected announcement shook me and all the officials of the empire.

“Serbia has rejected His Highness Theodore as a suitor and instead selected His Highness Constantine!”

…What was this about?

“…..”

“……..”

The room was filled with an awkward silence.

The shattered door hung in tatters, while on either side of me sat women. To my right, Joannina, the daughter of the illustrious Kantakouzenos family, pressed her shoulder against mine, and to my left, Ivania, the mercenary captain, subtly wrapped her arm around mine.

Who could have predicted such a scene?

Even considering this world was based on a dating sim, weren’t the affection levels set a bit too high? Especially you, Ivania. I cast a sidelong glance at her, but she continued with her usual stoic expression, her hands wandering as she caressed my entire arm.

Trying to pull my arm free proved futile as she held it firmly.

Hey, let go. Let go.

“….Master’s arm…♡”

Instead of releasing my arm, she uttered such odd words in a strangely heated tone. I considered the idea of charging her with insubordination when a soft sensation brushed against the back of my right hand.

I turned to see Joannina averting her gaze from me, but her left hand gently rested on top of mine.

When I tentatively wiggled my fingers, Joannina flinched.

Her hand trembled slightly, perhaps from embarrassment, but she soon clasped my hand more firmly, her fingers intertwining with mine.

Resigned to the situation, I realized pulling away with full force would only lead to an immediate breakup.

Now, with both arms effectively restrained, I resolved to deal with one side mercilessly.

“Let go, Ivania.”

“How mean.”

Dismissed as a joke, Ivania continued clinging to me. Before I could react, Joannina, who hadn’t even glanced in my direction, snapped her head around to glare at Ivania with sharp eyes.

“You are right, as you mentioned the other day—a mere mercenary captain? Please stop interfering with our engagement and step back.”

In response to Joannina’s stern warning, Ivania arrogantly ran a hand through her golden hair and answered.

“No, madam. I have no intention of hindering the engagement between my master and you.”

“Then let go!”

Joannina finally lost her temper, slamming the table and shouting as she stood up. However, for someone like Ivania, who had survived numerous battlefields, such a threat was laughable. Ivania smiled softly at Ioannina.

“You misunderstand. I am merely dedicating myself to ensuring that there are no difficulties in the marital duties of my master and his wife.”

“Marital duties?”

Joannina’s and my voices overlapped. The unexpectedness of such words coming from Ivania left us both in shock. Ivania, meanwhile, covered her reddening cheeks with both hands.

“What else could I contribute other than assisting in enhancing the master’s skills for a satisfying sex life for both of you…♡?”

“Hey!”

Heavens, is this truly the heroine you have given me? I never desired a complicated romantic comedy with such a problematic heroine. And why has she become so corrupted in her thoughts?

But the person who needed the most attention now was Joannina. If she misunderstood Ivania’s actions, my reputation could be irreparably damaged. Please, let her not have heard that.

“W-what!”

Oh, this is too much. What crime have I committed to deserve such a dreadful situation? With my vision darkened, I might as well close my eyes. As I massaged my forehead and let out a deep sigh—

“Stop talking nonsense! I won’t give my husband’s purity to anyone!”

Joannina retorted with a flushed face. The words she used in her rebuttal were something I wanted to erase from my memory. It was better not to dwell on them.

However, Joannina’s fiery response only ignited Ivania further, as she smirked, raising one corner of her mouth to provoke her.

“Well, do you think you can handle all of the master’s strength on your own?”

“Even if there’s not a single drop left, I’ll squeeze it all out myself!”

……!

I felt a threat to my safety. Had I ever received such a terrifying warning before? Even Ivania seemed slightly taken aback, evidently not expecting this reaction. Riding the momentum, Joannina began to unleash even more shocking declarations.

“I’ll make sure you can’t even think of cheating! I’ll drain you so much that you won’t be able to stand up to another woman!”

Gulp. I swallowed involuntarily.

Though it seemed unlikely that Joannina had the stamina to follow through on such a proclamation, an ominous feeling crept over me, as if it might actually happen.

I wished she would trust that I wasn’t the type to approach just any woman.

“You are dooming yourself to an unhappy marriage. Food tastes best when eaten occasionally. I merely wish to sacrifice myself to make you the most delectable dish in the world…!”

“Stop spouting nonsense! I’m not foolish enough to fall for that! I won’t give up a single drop!”

“Aren’t you being too harsh! Haven’t you heard of the Eastern saying that a hero should have multiple wives and concubines?”

“Aren’t you a Christian?! Christianity advocates monogamy!”

“I-I wasn’t asking to be made a wife!”

“Not a concubine either! No flings! Just don’t approach him as a woman!”

“W-women with strong possessiveness are bound to be disliked…!”

Ivania spat out venomous words, while—

“Loose women are bound to be despised… especially ones like you!”

—Joannina stood her ground, gritting her teeth in defiance.

Caught in the middle, I couldn’t hide my shock.

---

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The meeting with John was disappointing.

I thought he would be a reliable ally, but we ended up turning our backs on each other. Given how things have turned out, there’s one more reason to make this marriage happen. I need to secure a stable support base through my marriage to Joannina Kantakouzenos.

In a room where just the two of us, who might soon be married, were gathered, I found myself contemplating my next steps. Before and after coming here, I had lived a life of solitude, now in my forties without ever having a romantic relationship. I’ve grown cautious when dealing with the opposite sex.

Thankfully, though I didn’t know why, Joannina’s demeanor was exceedingly friendly.

“Would you care for some wine? I poured it earlier.”

Her bright smile and the gesture of offering a glass left me momentarily stunned. Perhaps Joannina understood the significance of this arranged marriage and was presenting herself favourably to others? While I harboured some doubts, I also found myself thinking that it was better this way. At least we were starting on the same page in this regard.

I accepted the glass with a smile of my own.

“Outside of official matters, I’ve never been treated so kindly.”

Naturally, I don’t have personal meetings often. Most of my time is consumed with official duties, and my relationships are limited to bureaucrats or those in key positions. Joannina’s situation is somewhat ambiguous. While marriage is a form of duty, it also carries a strong personal aspect, making it feel like a mix of both worlds.

I wondered how my relationship with her would evolve as I took a sip of wine, glancing at Ioannina. She noticed my gaze and smiled.

“You’ve been cooped up in your room without meeting others, so it’s only natural.”

…?

Ah, that’s what she meant. It took me a moment to understand her straightforward comment, catching me off guard. I was initially flustered but found myself chuckling inwardly. Whether it was out of genuine amusement or sheer incredulity, I couldn’t quite tell. My feelings were mixed, not clearly good or bad.

As a result, when I tried to speak, the words just bounced around my mouth uselessly.

Only after some time had passed did I manage to calm down and express my thoughts on Ioannina.

“You are quite straightforward.”

“That’s not all. I also have a keen eye and a good memory for anything interesting.”

“A keen eye? It seems you’ve seen something amusing.”

At my comment, Ioannina covered her mouth and laughed. Hey, don’t laugh. It’s a bit embarrassing for me.

“Your expression when you were lost in thought just now, I would have never imagined it if I hadn’t seen it myself!”

When someone behaves out of character, it naturally elicits various reactions from others—concern, sadness, anger, and more. Yet, here I was, provoking laughter. I couldn’t find the words to respond to Joannina’s teasing, left to fume in silence for a while.

Suddenly, Ioannina stopped laughing.

“Now you understand how I feel, don’t you?”

She acted as if we had met before, but no matter how much I wracked my brain, I couldn’t recall anything about Joannina. My youth was marred by constant strife, leaving little room for encounters with the opposite sex…

Just then, a light touch on my nose snapped me back to reality.

“You’re being too harsh. If this is on purpose, I might just shed a tear.”

Though her words were playful, her eyes said otherwise. Sensing her determination, I resigned myself to the situation. Raising both hands in surrender, I shook my head. Seeing this, Joannina poked my nose again, this time with an exaggerated pout and her cheeks puffed out in mock anger.

“I’ll make you pay for forgetting the person you’ve hurt so deeply. Hmph!”

This time, instead of a light poke, she repeatedly tapped my nose and various parts of my face with her finger. Defenseless, I could only endure the onslaught. After several rounds of this teasing, Ioannina finally seemed satisfied and retreated with a pleased expression.

I felt utterly defeated. The retribution for a forgotten past incident was complete. Now it was time to uncover what exactly I had forgotten. As I contemplated this, Joannina, seemingly aware of my thoughts, spoke up first.

“Still don’t remember your fiancée, do you?”

Ah.

Ahhhhh.

Ahhhhhhhhh!

“Well, I’ve quit being a servant before due to unfair working conditions…”

“T-t-t-t-t-that’s so mean!”

Thunk. As soon as the memory of our past encounter surfaced, I was met with a hard glass cup. The clear resonance of the glass ringing from the impact on my head echoed. Swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill, I quickly lifted my head and glared at Ioannina.

“How pure of you. Those who retain their childhood spirit are always bright and lively.”

If anything, the situation had worsened, not improved. This sentiment prompted a sharp retort from Joannina.

“It seems the Prince retains his childhood spirit too, considering how gloomy and sullen you still appear.”

Me? Gloomy? What a slanderous accusation. I, who find hope even in desperate situations and live brightly. Yet, self-assertion is often dismissed. I needed a third party to testify.

I glanced around seeking agreement, but the only one in front of me was Joannina, clicking her tongue.

“Everyone sees it that way.”

“This is the first time in a long while I’ve experienced such a shock.”

“Oh, so you have been shocked before?”

“Well, when someone introduced as a fiancé candidate offers to make a royal into a servant, anyone would be shocked…”

Thunk. A longer, clearer resonance than before. It seemed this topic was a significant dark history for Joannina. I decided to let it go.

As I closed my mouth, Joannina ceased her aggression. The atmosphere finally relaxed.

It appeared that the earlier awkwardness had eased, perhaps due to the physical closeness.

Seeing her start the conversation first was a sign.

“Still, meeting again like this makes it seem like we’re destined for each other.”

Twisting a lock of her black hair around her fingers, she directed her gaze to the wall, her cheeks tinged with a slight blush. It seemed she’d had too much wine. Or perhaps it was an irregular heartbeat. I felt proud of myself for bypassing the common traps many men fall into and arriving at a rational, logical conclusion.

Even in a dating sim, there should be limits.

Oh, another reason to be proud. I hadn’t forgotten that this world originated from a dating sim.

While basking in self-satisfaction, Joannina moved again. She rested her head on her arms, which were folded on the table, then turned her head towards me.

“Don’t you think so?”

Destined for each other.

Looking back, I felt genuinely relieved not to have had this sweet, romantic conversation with Ivania. If Ivania had been my destined partner, I swear to the heavens, I would have lived in purity. In the future, people would call me a paragon of purity, praising my commitment to chastity.

But reflecting on such thoughts was a mistake.

Knock, knock. The sound at the door drew Joannina’s head up first.

“Is it something important? We’re discussing marriage here. If it’s not more urgent than that, please leave.”

Her somewhat haughty tone remained unchanged. Of course, it was a vast improvement from before. Nonetheless, most people would retreat upon hearing the word ‘marriage.’ Unfortunately, the person knocking wasn’t most people.

“I apologize for interrupting the marriage talk, but I have something very important to share with my master♡.”

…..!!!!

Startled, I stood up, pushing the chair back, and stared at the door. Wasn’t it said that speaking of the tiger summons it? But I hadn’t even mentioned Ivania. So, what was she doing here? More importantly…

“Who do you mean by master?”

“Why, none other than the brave, cold-headed, always diligent, and yet caring towards his subordinates, His Highness Constantine Dragaš, my master♡.”

“Master♡?”

Echoing the peculiar word, Joannina turned her gaze towards me. Her eyes demanded an explanation. What on earth have you done? they seemed to ask.

I didn’t know. I genuinely didn’t. It was just unfortunate that Ivania happened to be a hopeless deviant. Why was I being interrogated? Though I tried to convey my grievances through my gaze, it didn’t seem to register.

Instead, I saw a glint of mischief and pride in Joannina’s eyes. She smirked confidently, lifting one corner of her mouth.

“Please deliver your message to your master later. Right now, it’s time for him to talk with me. Isn’t that right?”

….This doesn’t bode well.

“Y-y-y-you, darling♡.”

At that moment, the door cracked.

Joannina Kantakouzenos did not have fond memories of her encounters with Prince Constantine.

It all stemmed from a brief exchange during their betrothal meeting.

“…Goodbye.”

With that curt farewell, he abruptly stood up and left. While it’s true she had been a bit sharp, couldn’t she be forgiven? She was young then, after all! These thoughts would cross her mind as she sulked, only to find herself trailing after Constantine, observing him with a mix of curiosity and resentment under the silent approval of the other attendants.

His routine was repetitive: eating, sleeping, studying, and training.

How could he endure such a life? Even at fifteen, Joannina couldn’t comprehend his intense focus and perseverance. As a child, she found it utterly baffling, and to her, Constantine seemed like a disagreeable eccentric.

One day, she overheard a conversation between Constantine and his steward.

“Your Highness, what drives you to such lengths? While dedication to studies is commendable, your indifference to others is concerning.”

A valid point! How could someone be so oblivious to the feelings of others? At this stage, Joannina had branded Constantine as an ‘odd person’ incapable of understanding emotions. But then, Constantine replied:

“I cannot afford to give up.”

What couldn’t he give up? Was she supposed to give up instead? Feeling her pride stung, Joannina narrowed her eyes at him. As if unaware of her gaze, Constantine began to stroke the mantle on his shoulders.

“Even I, as young as I am, understand that the Empire is in decline and new powers are rising. Some may see this as the inevitable dawn of a new era. It might sound blasphemous, but it’s true. We’ve reached this point after numerous turning points, and what awaits us at the end of this path is the final chapter of a long history.”

“Your Highness.”

“But even if a somber end awaits every great civilization and state, people must fight until the very end. Whether it’s a believer trusting in divine salvation, an honorable warrior believing in the glory of their sacrifice, or a father hoping to pass his life on to his children, I, too, will walk this path with conviction. I believe that this desperate struggle will be remembered as the people’s fight to retain their sovereignty, even in the face of historical inevitability.”

At that moment, Joannina saw a light in Constantine—a noble radiance that no one else in the capital possessed. However, Constantine seemed oblivious to this as he gripped his practice sword tightly.

“I am preparing for the future.”

From that moment, Joannina began to prepare for the future as well, specifically to become a worthy wife to Constantine. The harsh trials of the past had not been in vain.

“Joannina, how do you feel?”

“Try taking a deep breath. You’re going to burn up!”

Teasing remarks mixed with envy and admiration from those around her.

“It’s only natural. I’ve been preparing for this since then. I’ve taken care of my appearance, ensuring my beauty didn’t fade, and forced myself to memorize even the most tedious books to build my knowledge.”

Joannina was confident. Though she might not be perfect, she believed she was far more prepared than other noble ladies to stand beside Constantine.

But when will he come?

Now, all that was left was to wait for her husband, who had gone to attend to state affairs, even on their wedding night. Should she warn him that she’d cry if he neglected her on such an occasion? Joannina tapped her wine glass with her finger, trying to alleviate her boredom.

No, she’d cry if he didn’t treat her well.

How would Prince Constantine react if she cried and begged for comfort? Surely he wouldn’t ignore her. After all, as his wife, it would be a blow to his reputation if rumors spread about neglect. Perhaps he’d even be flustered and show a side of himself she had never seen before.

I hope he dotes on me. Joannina’s tapping grew livelier as she imagined the possibilities.

//

When faced with a crisis, people have choices.

They can evade it, hope to avoid the worst by surrendering, or resign themselves to a bleak future. The right path depends on the individual and cannot be easily judged.

Yet the most painful choice might be gathering the shattered remnants of hope. Amidst the widespread despair and apocalyptic predictions, people’s eyes reflect certainty of defeat rather than hope for victory.

Empty encouragements cannot revive those who have resigned themselves, as the present decline is more painful against the backdrop of past glory.

No one denies the Empire is hurtling towards ruin. The only question is when. That’s why it’s crucial to carefully choose when to draw the sword. We cannot face the rising Ottomans alone.

To counter the Ottomans, we need allies willing to stand beside us—alliances forged across nations and dynasties. The unifying cause is faith, and to rally an army under the cross, the Pope’s declaration is essential. Yet, I’ve never heard of the Pope positively responding to a crusade request.

Furthermore, our ignorance of Western Europe’s political landscape, due to our focus on the Ottomans, is a severe disadvantage. We don’t even know which potential allies could be reliable. Hence, I couldn’t support those calling for a decisive battle against the Ottomans. The last crusade’s defeat had already dampened spirits.

Can we be certain the Church’s authority will remain unshaken after successive failures? If the Church’s authority collapses, the rationale for a unified alliance across nations, peoples, and dynasties would weaken. The next opportunity might be the last, so we must conserve our strength for that moment.

Naturally, such a stance placed me in direct opposition to the hawkish faction gaining influence in the capital, as well as the conservatives.

“Konstantinos, Prince of Morea, your argument has gained no support.”

The bishop’s words at the meeting echoed the sentiments of everyone present. Co-Emperor John VIII, representing the hawks, and even my father, Manuel II, who usually supported me, cast disapproving looks. I had expected this. When everyone else divides into black and white, standing in the gray invites criticism. The first to attack was my fervent brother, John VIII.

“Constantine, even you must realize that we cannot avoid a confrontation with the Ottomans.”

As he said. For the empire to survive, it must defeat the Ottomans. To overthrow the Ottomans, who have already become dominant, the empire must inflict multiple critical blows, not just one. The problem is that the empire lacks the capacity to support such efforts.

Thus, a crusade is needed to achieve what is inherently impossible for the empire. Only an overwhelming victory that could balance the national power of the Ottomans and the empire in a single decisive battle can ensure survival. Up to this point, my views align with those of John VIII.

The problem is that John VIII has completely misjudged the capabilities of the Ottomans.

“Your Majesty… As you know, we cannot drive out those Saracens (Arabs) with our strength alone.”

“Precisely, which is why I have been saying that we must divide them before the gap widens further. If they turn their swords on each other, as Bayezid’s sons did before, the empire can benefit. Meanwhile, we will call upon the western church for a crusade to drive out all the Saracens.”

I felt an intense urge to clutch my head in frustration. Too optimistic. Far too optimistic. John’s words aren’t entirely unfounded. The empire has faced frequent disputes over succession due to a lack of clear inheritance laws, but the Ottomans lack any formal laws regarding succession.

Thus, any son of the Sultan has a legitimate claim to the throne, leading to inevitable fraternal conflicts. It’s a reasonable strategy to exploit this. The issue is…

“Seven years. That is the period of unstable peace we’ve maintained with them. While we’ve barely managed to regroup, they have subdued one threatening force after another, aiming to breach the Theodosian Walls.”

“Which is why we must break their momentum now, more than ever!”

No. This cannot be. The opportunity we have painstakingly gained must not be lost like this. The empire does need hope, but it must not be born from such expectations. The urgency and disappointment with the so-called ‘war faction,’ who misunderstand the Ottomans, boiled inside me. I could not hold back the cry that emerged.

“We cannot endure!”

Do they genuinely believe our nation still has strength? Are they all ensnared by past glories?

Or are they fleeing from the harsh reality of our decline?

“We cannot hold out!”

Had Western Europe been in a more stable position, they wouldn’t have watched the rapidly expanding threat of the Ottomans in silence. But hadn’t we already heard from Venice? England and France are consumed by the Hundred Years’ War, the Holy Roman Empire’s authority has plummeted, and Hungary is embroiled in battles against internal heresies, unable to assist!

And without Hungary’s participation in the crusade, the empire will face the formidable Ottomans alone for some time. The capital might remain safe, relying on the steadfastness of the triple Theodosian walls.

But Morea will not.

If the Ottomans target the empire, Morea will crumble swiftly, without proper resistance. History shows that victors win because they have the necessary capability. The conservatives likely understand this bitter reality. The one launching this attack now is the tired gaze of Manuel II, a father who has come to grips with the brutal truth.

“Are you advocating a fight against the Ottomans despite knowing this?”

“You know, Father, that this precarious alliance will not last long!”

“Your words are contradictory, Constantine. You refuse war yet simultaneously advocate for it. Have you not made up your mind?”

John VIII pressed me immediately. The young emperor and the old emperor, each from their positions, were pushing Morea to make a choice. How laughable.

“A confrontation with the Ottomans is inevitable. But now is not the time for that confrontation. When the western crusaders arrive, when the Ottomans are divided, and when our allies unite under the true name of faith to protect the Christian world, that will be the time for our decisive battle.”

“But we don’t know when that time will come…! We might never see that moment! Are we to wait in idleness for such an uncertain moment? Such complacency blinds us!”

John VIII stepped toward me, his gaze fixed. As I met his gaze without retreating, I felt the tension between us intensify.

“Now is that time. Now is the moment to unite under faith.”

“What makes you so impatient? What is driving Your Majesty to such desperation?”

“The guilt of having done nothing, and the helplessness of being unable to do anything!”

Finally, beyond the bloodshot eyes, I could glimpse John’s inner turmoil. What drove him was the overwhelming responsibility of his position, a burden he could never shed. The compulsion to achieve something must have been deeply ingrained through some incident—likely guilt.

“Brother, this is what I hoped for. You need not feel sorry for me.”

“You may think I am overconfident. But an elder feels this way. It feels like failing in my duty as an elder to have made you feel such burden.”

“So, it’s for your redemption?”

“Help me atone, Constantine.”

Such unnecessary responsibility. I won’t say it’s unpleasant to have a brother who cares, but sometimes, care—not hatred—creates distortion. The larger the matter at hand, the more the original intent can result in a skewed outcome. I cannot concede.

Besides… I felt it was not purely for atonement. If he truly sought atonement, he would have considered my opinions, even slightly. John VIII seemed impatient for another reason. I couldn’t help but believe that. If not, he wouldn’t be in such a hurry.

“No… I cannot assist Your Majesty with either your atonement or your true desires.”

John and I are different.

This is not merely about our appearance, impressions, or conduct. While the outcomes of our thoughts may be similar, our ultimate goals differ. The motivations may be alike, but the dreams they inspire are different.

“…What do you mean?”

“What I desire and what Your Majesty desires are too similar yet too different to be called alike. That is why I cannot help you.”

From the moment I suspected what drove his urgency, my mind had closed. Though we might shake hands for political reasons, we would never be true allies. The grand dream of rebuilding the empire—one seeks it for personal glory, the other for the citizens. This initial difference has grown into a complete contrast, preventing a true alliance.

In the increasingly tense atmosphere, I turned away from John, who was dressed in imperial regalia, without hesitation.

“Though it may be arrogant of me to say such things, I believe that devotion and passion are different.”

I suddenly thought of Manuel II, who must have arranged this meeting. The expressions of those aware that the conversation between Morea’s ruler and Co-emperor John had ended poorly were grim.

My father’s expression was no exception. He had hoped for a better future, resting his hand on his forehead, hiding his aging self. I felt sorry, but there was no other choice.

“As the ruler of Morea, I oppose the war faction’s claims. I do so knowing what consequences this may bring.”

Leaving only those words, I felt no need to stay further and turned to leave. As I did, John’s voice called out from behind.

“Very well, I will wait for the future as you say. I will remember this… Constantine.”

Simultaneously, I had a feeling. If we managed to drive out the Ottomans and the empire survived, John would surely target my life.

Yet, we were brothers, uncomfortably similar to walk the same path.

A man who doesn’t need to be emperor and a man who must be emperor.

As I walked away, I thought of John. He will likely be the next emperor.

But after him, I must become emperor.

The Blachernae Palace was enveloped in an indescribable silence. Marching down the road was the army of Prince Konstantinos—three hundred strong, advancing with confidence, unchallenged, as the citizens cheered them on. The court nobles had begun to grasp the intentions behind Konstantinos’s arrival.

“Is the marriage to the Kantakouzenos family just a stepping stone?”

Among those who realized Konstantinos’s scheme was the young Sphrantzes, who had inherited the role of the emperor’s secretary. He understood why the prince had taken such bold actions, knowing full well that Konstantinos was the strongest contender for succession.

Konstantinos had nearly been appointed as the prince of Selymbria, the closest region to the capital. Regardless of Emperor Manuel’s current feelings, the fact remained that Konstantinos was second only to John in the line of succession. Moreover, as the voices clamouring for a capable ruler grew louder, the prince who had reclaimed the Peloponnesian Peninsula was naturally favoured.

“Are you truly challenging the throne head-on, my prince?”

The problem lay in the fact that John had already been named co-emperor. Under such circumstances, uniting with the leading noble family, the Kantakouzenos, would inevitably be seen as a threat. Even the inexperienced young Sphrantzes could predict the potential consequences, and the seasoned nobles were certainly aware as well.

“He must believe he’s come of age now.” “Chancellor.”

Sphrantzes bowed respectfully at the sound of the voice behind him. It was Notaras, the venerable chancellor trusted by Manuel II. His calm gaze was fixed on the approaching prince.

“The division of power, painstakingly decided by His Majesty after much toil and concern, has been rendered meaningless. The consolidated rule of Morea and the transfer of Achaea’s governance… too much power has fallen into Prince Konstantinos’s hands.”

“When do you think the civil war will break out?”

Sphrantzes’s blunt question made Notaras frown. Although competent, Sphrantzes’s tendency to probe sensitive issues sharply could prove dangerous in the future. But given the longstanding enmity between their families, Notaras felt no need to offer caution and continued speaking slowly.

“Not yet. At least not until the Turks have been driven out.” “His Majesty will not see his wishes fulfilled in the end.”

It was about Manuel II, the aging emperor who had spent his later years hoping his children would not be sacrificed in a tragedy of fratricide. Yet it was precisely his most favored son who had shattered that hope.

“He must be deeply heartbroken. His Majesty already knows what lies ahead. He just hopes the turmoil he’s been dreading won’t occur until after he’s gone.” “I hope this marriage brings some comfort to His Majesty.”

Yes, it must. Notaras nodded. Meanwhile, the young Sphrantzes was lost in thought. Who would ascend to the throne after Manuel II?

Who would be the most fitting ruler? What should he do when the civil war inevitably broke out? The answers did not come easily.

“You’ve grown much since I last saw you.”

Sphrantzes was jolted from his thoughts by the nostalgic tone of Notaras’s voice. Taking care not to disturb the chancellor’s reflections, he moved cautiously towards the balcony railing, where he could see the figure at the forefront of the procession.

His armor, devoid of ornate decorations or emblems, seemed to reflect the wearer’s character. Apart from the cross engraved on the chest plate and the red cloak draped over his shoulders, everything gleamed in silver. Yet it was not pure silver—only a few parts were adorned with it.

“He looks as if he’s about to enter a battlefield.”

Prince Konstantinos’s demeanour differentiated sharply with that of the current co-emperor, John, who seemed a natural diplomat.

While John drew people in with his bright smile, Konstantinos’s steady sternness made them rely on him. Unlike his older brother’s gentle gaze, Konstantinos’s eyes were firm and resolute, clearly expressing his will.

It was evident that Konstantinos had more of a warrior’s nature than a politician’s. This observation was not unique to Sphrantzes.

“Prince Konstantinos has entered the palace!”

The eunuch’s announcement drew everyone’s attention to the corridor. Most of the nobles frowned. Was this ceremonial armor? To appear so heavily armed on such a joyous occasion? The nobles, who had expected a display of sociability and noble character, were disappointed.

“What’s the meaning of this? Appearing like that at his own wedding gathering?”

“Is he trying to intimidate us?”

Prince Konstantinos, too, regarded the nobles with a cool gaze. The mutual displeasure was palpable. The awkward standoff was finally broken by another voice.

“Welcome, Constantine.”

“It’s good to see you in good health.”

“Bring ceremonial robes for the prince. There’s much we need to discuss today—as brothers and as emperors.”

As Sphrantzes had sensed, while Prince Konstantinos exuded a somewhat reserved demeanour, John was the opposite. Much like the contrast between the declining capital and the rising Morea, the impressions the two left were strikingly different.

Prince Konstantinos’s calm, quiet gaze maintained calmness without stirring any waves, while the young emperor’s eyes sparkled with passionate energy. The prince’s tightly shut mouth, stern expression, and measured steps evoked the image of an monk enduring a spiritual journey. In contrast, young John, with his confident smile and graceful appearance, exuded a charm that proved he was fit for imperial robes. It was clear which of the two possessed more personal appeal—given the choice, everyone would choose John as a friend without hesitation.

However, if asked who they would want as a leader, the answer would be less clear.

The two brothers represented opposing styles of rulership. The prince was a ruler dedicated to administration, while the young emperor embodied ideological leadership. This stark difference naturally drew all eyes when the two stood together.

Prince Konstantinos glanced at the nobles, acknowledging John’s words. He realized they hadn’t yet grasped that he held the real power. Believing there was no need for further intimidation, Konstantinos quietly left the hall.

Moments later.

“You don’t seem fazed.”

John spoke first as they walked down the corridor, glancing at Konstantinos, who was now dressed in imperial robes. The brothers hadn’t spoken in nearly a decade. Aware of the awkwardness, John took the initiative, and Konstantinos nodded in response.

“I met with the citizens. Without your consideration, Your Majesty… brother, it would have taken much longer.”

There had been excited citizens along the march, but thanks to the imperial soldiers, any potential unrest was quickly subdued. Konstantinos was expressing his gratitude.

“Please understand them. The recent victory was a great encouragement for the empire.”

John was referring to the recapture of the Peloponnesian Peninsula. It had taken the empire a century to fulfill that long-held aspiration, and the citizens’ celebrations were inevitable.

John’s words conveyed this understanding. After a brief pause, John hesitated before continuing.

“…Constantine, I feel troubled that I’ve entrusted you with something I should have done myself.”

Constantine turned his gaze towards John’s back, and the young emperor offered a bitter smile.

“There was a time when I foolishly thought it better to submit to fate. And during that time, my remarkable younger brother accomplished great things.” By the time John’s words ended, the two had reached their destination.

Standing before the emperor’s office, John wore a regretful smile.

“I’ve made you come without even getting a proper look at your bride.”

“It’s nothing. Meeting Father first is the proper thing to do.”

Constantine responded formally, ensuring he upheld the politeness. Watching him, John’s expression suddenly grew serious.

“Constantine.”

This was not a familial discussion. Sensing the shift, Constantine turned, and John let out a deep sigh.

“There’s a reason this marriage was arranged so suddenly. I want you to be aware of that.”

“Can you tell me now?”

“Father, waiting beyond this door, will explain. It’s a complicated matter, not easy to explain. But if I were to put it plainly and clearly…”

John hesitated briefly, but it didn’t take long for him to continue.

“Know this—it’s time to draw your sword.”

“Look, Your Highness. It’s the Ottoman fleet.”

As our tedious voyage neared its end, we were greeted by an unwelcome guest. Considering this is the Bosporus Strait, a natural bridge between Asia and Europe, it was a stark reminder of how much the empire’s navy had declined. The Ottoman fleet, drilling in formation right at the capital’s doorstep, made their intentions blatantly clear.

“I didn’t expect them to develop this much already…”

The Venetian captain accompanying us also gazed at the imposing Ottoman fleet with a grave expression. His reaction piqued my curiosity. What did Venice think of them?

“If your navy were to clash with theirs, who do you think would win?”

The captain blinked a few times at the sudden question, then broke into a confident smile.

“Please do not compare those who have just experienced the sea with us, who live by it. However, their sheer size is undeniably threatening.”

Indeed, having many ships doesn’t mean they’ll instantly gain experienced sailors. But over time, they would grow more accustomed to the sea and become an even tougher adversary.

I could only hope the captain would convey this ominous news to the Venetian senate and spur them into action, though I didn’t place too much faith in it.

Setting aside those hopes, I turned my gaze back to the sea. Since our voyage had proceeded with the sultan’s permission, there were no direct interruptions from the Ottoman fleet. Yet, the sight of their ships approaching closely kept us on edge. How long did this uneasy silence last?

“We are about to enter the Golden Horn.”

Though the unstable peace still held, it was not yet shattered. The Ottoman fleet had ceased their approach, watching us silently from a distance. Amidst the tense atmosphere, I turned to take in the sight of the fallen Constantinople.

Flags fluttered atop the massive walls encircling the city. The thought that those flags could soon belong to someone else disturbed my peace. The entire city seemed faded, a figment of a once-great past. Lost in these bitter reflections, the captain’s voice brought me back to reality.

“Congratulations on your upcoming marriage, Your Highness.”

Congratulations. Perhaps it was suspicion, but could the Venetians, ever sensitive to their national interests, have failed to consider the political implications of this marriage? Sensing my unspoken question, the captain added with a knowing smile.

“I wish you smooth sailing ahead.”

“Thank you for the kind words, Captain.”

As soon as the conversation ended, the ship began to slow. It seemed the shrewd first mate had already instructed the crew while the captain and I talked. There was no time for further hesitation.

“Disembark, soldiers! We are returning as the army that defends the empire. Prove your worthiness to serve in a noble and honorable duty by displaying your discipline!”

The disembarkation proceeded swiftly.

The mercenaries, divided among three ships, found their positions as soon as they landed. Clad in well-maintained armor, they presented an impressive sight, characteristic of North Italian mercenaries. Yet, there was one minor drawback.

“Everything is ready… Master.”

Though others might not notice, I had spent enough time with them to catch the subtle twitch at the corner of her lips. Her slightly reddened eyes looked my way with a vague sense of resentment.

“Good work, Ivania.”

“So… about the reward…”

“A scandal should be avoided at all costs.”

Now that I was promised to someone, any inappropriate actions in the heart of the city could lead to severe repercussions, especially if it involved the daughter of a grand noble. To gain one thing often means losing another, and preventing Ivania’s pout was beyond my capacity.

“Then at least right now…!”

“Ahem!”

So, she wasn’t sulking; she was determined. I swiftly rejected her and turned away. Time is precious, after all. Though I could hear Ivania grumbling behind me, I chose to ignore it. Instead, I intended to firmly establish my authority as the ruler of Morea in the minds of the citizens.

“I will lead the way. Maintain your formation and follow behind me.”

I did not mount a horse. Part of me wanted to walk through the capital after a long absence, but it was also a deliberate move to slow our pace. To make it clear who held real power, this display needed to last as long as possible. Though it seemed a simple first step towards the throne, it had become an indispensable act for both myself and the empire.

‘I will explain why Your Highness must claim the throne.’

The citizens of the capital began to emerge onto the streets. Dressed in ceremonial armour, I and my soldiers made our way towards the Blachernae Palace.

‘There are those who believe that Prince Theodoros handed over the governance of Achaea to Your Highness merely as a gesture of goodwill.’

Amid the startled citizens witnessing the armed procession, someone shouted.

“It’s Prince Konstantinos!”

(TL: Konstantinos is the Greek way of saying Constantine)

That exclamation sparked a wave of enthusiastic cheers.

‘The sudden death of Prince Theodoros’s wife after their marriage, and the smooth succession and transfer of Achaea. Anyone with a bit of insight would sense some conspiracy at play.’

“Long live Prince Konstantinos! Long live Prince Konstantinos!”

Everyone chanted with joy, their exuberant shouts spreading like wildfire, invigorating even the soldiers. Yet, the more spirited their steps became, the colder my heart grew.

‘It is clear that some secret agreement existed between Your Highness and Prince Theodoros. Understanding what Prince Theodoros desired allows us to infer the nature of that pact.’

The Blachernae Palace, where all the nobles and royals would be awaiting us, loomed ahead. The forthcoming marriage there weighed heavily on my mind. Would this union be a blessing or a curse?

‘If Prince Theodoros claims the throne, he will not leave another strong claimant unchecked. He will use his authority to conceal his collusion, revealing the conspiracy to undermine Your Highness’s standing and ultimately depose you.’

Neither the citizens gathered in welcome, nor the soldiers marching in step with them, nor the nobles who would be watching from the palace, held my attention anymore. My thoughts were consumed by one thing: Demicleos’s final words.

‘The day you abandon your claim to the throne will be the day you fail, and the empire falls. Steel yourself, wear the purple cloak, and rise in majesty to drive out the heretics who have taken our rightful lands.’

I couldn’t bear the thought of the city’s citizens succumbing to despair. I had chosen this path, foolish as it might be, in hopes that they would rise again. Was Demicleos right? Was this what the people truly desired?

One thing had become clear through his words.

At some point, my brother and I would inevitably find ourselves pointing bloodied swords at each other.