Chapter 208: Wedding Ceremony
“Did you see it?”
“I saw nothing, Your Majesty.”
“You’ve become bold, Theodora.” Manuel I looked at his favorite concubine with a smile, speaking with deep meaning, “You never used to speak to me in such a rebellious tone.”
“I’m just speaking frankly, Your Majesty. I truly saw nothing. If you insist I say something, I only saw the dark sea surface. There is no moon tonight, no stars either. Or do you want someone to light torches and set up fishing boats to add some color to this dull scene?”
“You were never so arrogant before. One could even say you were meek to the point of boredom.
You’ve been by my side since you were twelve, that’s over a dozen years now, and you’ve held the position of first favorite concubine for more than ten years. People are saying your fall from favor is just a matter of time. Aren’t you afraid?” Without waiting for Theodora to answer, he continued, “Right, you’re not afraid, because you no longer fear me. Not because I’ve lost power, but because you think I have nothing left to restrain you with.”
“You don’t love that so-called husband of yours. You and I have no children, and your parents have both been strangled by me. Your only attachment is the child my wife entrusted to you—Little Anna. And Anna has already married. Even though she’s not far from us now, separated only by a narrow strait（ they are already in Atalyea, a port city in the Byzantine Empire very close to Cyprus）.
But she has become someone else’s wife. Even if I wanted to punish her, her husband would stand in my way, whether for Anna or for the Cyprus she brought.” Manuel I laughed hoarsely. “See, you’re silent now. You’re not speaking. You admit it, don’t you?
Theodora, you’re a clever child. Unfortunately, you’re still a woman after all. You don’t understand that every decision men make has profound reasons behind it. Haven’t you ever doubted when I became so generous? Just like my second wife, that foolish Mary, complained to me.
That’s Cyprus, and I have sons—my Grand Prince, Alexios, and my youngest, Alexander. Even though he’s only six, I want him to inherit a complete empire.” Theodora raised her head, and the fear in her eyes satisfied Manuel I. So he continued, “Do you remember those Cypriots who came to bribe you, begging you to speak on their behalf?”
Theodora certainly remembered.
Those Cypriots brought boxes of pearls and glassware. Their pearls were placed in glass dishes fired deep red, emerald green, and inky black, letting those round little sprites roll and bounce on the smooth surfaces. The crisp, pleasing sound was unmatched even by the best musicians plucking harp strings.
They knelt at her feet, begging her to persuade Manuel I to send more troops and ships to Cyprus, and to appoint a wise and battle-hardened governor.
They said Cyprus had been without a resident governor for a full ten years. They were now fighting the vile heathens entirely on their own, but without the Empire’s powerful navy, they were truly struggling to hold on.
Theodora of course accepted their gifts. But as for persuading Manuel I, sorry, she had to go back on her word—or rather, she never promised anything. No one dared spy on Manuel I’s bed anyway, so only Manuel I could testify whether she said anything.
Did these people really dare question Manuel I? In the years she had been his favorite concubine, countless such people had come, and Theodora hadn’t taken them to heart at all.
“Little fool, didn’t you ever think? Were they doing it on purpose? They knew full well that even if they offered you all the pearls, gemstones, gold, silk, and coral, you wouldn’t say a word for them. One year, two years, three years—ten years straight like this. You mocked them for working in vain, but they mocked you for unknowingly serving as their shield.”
Manuel I sighed. “My eldest son Alexios truly understands me well. Of course, he understands you too. He used you to fool me, and only recently did I learn he’s been cultivating his own faction on Cyprus, with an army. He’s even pre-ordered several ships from the Venetians.
He’s grown up, with supporters of his own in the Imperial Court. Unfortunately, I fell victim to the enemy’s schemes before. I wouldn’t say I suffered a great defeat in the war against Sultan Arslan II, but for an emperor, a war without victory is a disgrace.
I think my eldest son will soon use this to challenge me.”
He propped his head with his hand and glanced at the grapes on the table. Theodora numbly crawled forward a few steps on her knees, selected a grape, carefully peeled its skin, and gently fed it into the mouth of Manuel I, who was reclining on the couch. Manuel I slowly chewed the grape. It wasn’t grape harvest season, but if the eunuchs were willing, they could always obtain these delicacies that ordinary commoners, even officials and nobles, couldn’t enjoy.
This was the power born to those from the Purple Chamber. “He picked a good place. Cyprus—it was once safe in the Empire’s embrace. Unfortunately, now it’s a pearl abandoned outside. It still has countless ties to the Byzantine Empire, but those ties are like spider silk in the wind, liable to scatter and break at any moment.
But do you know why I’m not worried those Cypriots will rebel? Because they still await a holy emperor.
My son may have exploited this. He probably promised them that once he becomes Emperor of Byzantium, Cyprus can truly become a prosperous and safe place. The Empire’s soldiers and fleet will protect them from Crusaders and Saracens. It’s a naive idea. But I must admit the timing is cleverly grasped.
Though I haven’t fallen, I’m in a weakened state…”
“So you married Anna to an obscure Crusader knight.”
“Obscure or not doesn’t matter. Even if he were just a beggar, as long as he’s a Crusader warrior, a Frankish Christian, marrying Anna to him and giving Cyprus as her dowry—the Crusaders would gladly accept.
But my son Alexios will probably go mad with rage. From what I know, his army there numbers over ten thousand, not all militia—there are some bow cavalry, maybe even heavy cavalry.
In Byzantium—in Asia Minor, no matter what he does, I’d know if it exceeded a hundred men. But Cyprus—those cowardly, vile merchants—he knows I never paid them any mind. As long as he can bribe them, he can act freely.
Even if I discover it, as long as he escapes Constantinople, Cyprus will be his foothold.”
“You want the Crusaders to…”
Theodora’s interruption displeased Manuel I, frowning, because it forced him to think of a topic he tried hard to avoid—he truly feared his eldest son. No matter what he said, losing to Sultan Arslan II had severely damaged his prestige in the army. Just look at the list of Emperors of Byzantium—how many generals ascended the throne through even the slightest royal connection…
And his precaution against his eldest son—keeping Alexios in Constantinople, never appointing him governor or any real power position—had now become an advantage. Alexios had done nothing, so of course no mistakes. Those officials and generals resentful toward the emperor might give him an opportunity…
He was indeed afraid. He didn’t know if, after Alexios truly betrayed him, people would call him “traitor!” or “Basileus!”
But the Crusaders wouldn’t tolerate such a huge obstacle. They wouldn’t even obey the Emperor of Byzantium. And the people on Cyprus—for the Crusaders, heretics might be more hateful than heathens.
They follow the Orthodox Church, heretics in the Roman Church’s eyes. The Crusaders are the Roman Church’s sword. That they haven’t turned Cyprus into a second Ayyarasa Road is already mercy.
Without the Cypriots’ protection, Alexios’s ten thousand men would have nowhere to hide. Do you think the Crusaders would negotiate with Alexios, letting him keep his army? Of course not. They’d expel this force not their own from Cyprus. But elsewhere—even Atalyea, the farthest from Constantinople where they now are—is still under Manuel I’s watch. Where could he go?
Would he abandon his position in Constantinople and become a stray dog like Armenian Prince Mulai once did? Leaving aside if he could swallow the humiliation? Once stripped of status, seeking refuge with Saracens or Crusaders—how many would follow him?
To them, Saracens are heathens to kill, and Crusaders the most hated rebels.
Even those coming for profit want to follow a monarch, not a bandit.
“He will… he will…” Theodora tightly gripped the curved armrest of the couch. Even now, she didn’t dare grab Manuel I’s arm. “Yes, poor Theodora,” Manuel I shook his head at her pityingly.
“I know this son of mine. He’s like me—cold-hearted, harsh, cruel, and full of drama. With his status, he’ll have many chances to kill his sister to stop this marriage. But he won’t. That way, he couldn’t savor their deepest regret and pain. He’ll surely pick the most fitting moment.
For example… ah,” he suddenly stopped, turning to the sea surface. “I think I see something. Is that firelight? Cyprus’s fire.”
Theodora was already limp all over. She struggled to prop herself up and look out. They were on a huge terrace, its curtains raised high. From here, one could indeed see one or two points of starlight flickering on the dark sea surface. No, not starlight—firelight.
“Anna!” she cried out.
“Woman!” Manuel I cursed affectionately. “If I were Alexios, what would I do? I’d stop this marriage to keep the long-cultivated Cyprus from falling into others’ hands. This is a crisis for me, but also an opportunity. That knight is closest to the King of Ayyarasa Road. The King of Ayyarasa Road will surely witness the wedding for him.
And important Crusader figures will attend too. Right, I remember they said Ayyarasa Road’s Patriarch has arrived on Cyprus, and your Little Anna insists he officiate her wedding. Cyprus’s Archbishop was furious,” A mad smile appeared on Manuel I’s face. His face flushed red with excitement. “Not only will I destroy this marriage, I’ll use it to capture these people and ransom them one by one from the Crusaders. How much can I get?
A king is worth at least half a million gold coins, and the Knights Templar’s wealth is world-famous.
With that money, I can do as I please. Fleets, cavalry, Constantinople’s officials and nobles, governors of every military district—I can win them all. What can that emperor in the Grand Imperial Palace do then?” He laughed heartily, then abruptly stopped, glancing at the ashen-faced Theodora. “But no matter his fate, your Little Anna is definitely going to die.”
This sentence completely drained Theodora’s strength. Her body toppled as if to kiss the emperor for mercy. Manuel I thought so too—until her teeth sank into his throat.
Theodora used all her strength. The emperor beat her, and others pulled at her limbs, but she wouldn’t let go. The emperor couldn’t make a sound. Without orders, the eunuchs dared not draw their swords…
But Manuel I was old after all. His throat was covered in loose skin. After tearing off a chunk of flesh, Theodora was finally pulled away. The emperor pointed at her, and Theodora just swallowed the wet, disgusting thing whole. “You will watch your Empire fall!” she cursed lowly, but everyone heard.
Then, this woman erupted with unprecedented strength, broke free from the eunuchs’ hold, ran to the terrace, vaulted the low railing, and plunged into the roaring sea.
——————
“Then you… didn’t hear wrong—call the witnesses… in.”
A sinister smile curled Anna’s lips. In the darkness, her past flashed before her like a lantern show. Unlike the hopeful Theodora, she didn’t need the emperor to reveal the final card—she already understood everything her father had done. Hatred and regret surged in her chest, overwhelming all else.
Grand Master of the Knights Templar Philip strode forward, exchanging a glance with Grand Master of the Knights Hospitaller. They had both been incredulous before. But seeing the satisfied smile on the Byzantine woman’s face, they understood. It wasn’t from love—perhaps some, but mostly revenge against her father and brother. But could she hold out until the ceremony finished?
Heraclius glared at the two Grand Masters. Truth be told, if Anna could endure the gut-wrenching pain, she could live at least a few more hours. Those hours wouldn’t let her bear a child—even with more time, it was impossible; her womb was destroyed.
“Do you know what you’re saying?”
“I’m doomed to die anyway. You just said so,” After taking the potion, the princess felt much better—or rather, this potion had awakened the last spark of life in her body. “How much longer can I hold on?”
“Not much, child. Maybe just a few hours.”
“A few hours is enough.” The princess felt another wave of exhaustion. Her soul seemed ready to leave her body and ascend to the sky.
She gripped Caesar’s hand, as if that could slow her departure from the Mortal World. “Give me more medicine, please. Stronger stuff to drive the pain from my body.”
“That would shorten your survival time, maybe to half or even a third of now.”
“Even if your student is exceptionally gifted, I doubt he’ll need an hour.”
What a crude yet amusing joke, but no one in the room laughed.
“If you insist…”
“I insist…”
“Anna,” Caesar said, holding her hand. “If it’s just for revenge…” He could behead Alexios right now.
The princess turned her head slightly, looked at Caesar again, and ultimately denied it. “Lord, my love for you isn’t that deep. After all, we’ve spent so little time together. I love you because you’re worthy of love, like pearls and gemstones—anyone with eyes who sees you couldn’t help but like you.
I once dreamed of living with you, bearing children, watching them grow and inherit everything ours. I was even willing to give you all my power. Because I trust you. You’re a man of virtue. Even if you don’t love me, you wouldn’t humiliate and scorn me as viciously as my father did my mother.
My child and I would have a happy future. But now that’s impossible. My father used me, my brother killed me. But I’m no goddess of revenge. I can’t become a ghost whispering my pain and hatred in their ears, turning them into madmen and corpses.
So, what do you think I can do? But I know a way to make them feel pain and regret—they’re cold-blooded beasts. Nothing crushes them but their interests.
Call in all the witnesses. Sorry to make you endure this, but even for Cyprus… love me. Caesar, let us become true husband and wife.”
The Patriarch stood, looking at his student. Ultimately, it was still his decision.
But he knew Caesar would nod. Whether for Cyprus or Anna, Grand Master of the Knights Templar Philip immediately summoned the witnesses from the next room, along with Cyprus’s Archbishop, and two other Cypriot nobles who were brought in as if under escort.
Bigger than the original bridal chamber, this room had layered curtains dividing areas. Before Alexios infiltrated, the Templar Knights and handmaids outside the door were killed—the missing Byzantine and Cypriot handmaids were likely accomplices.
Now the curtains were all removed. The knights quickly prepared a wedding bed. Anna drank medicine from the Patriarch’s hand—of course, nominally holy water in a golden cup. She regained her radiant glow and vigor, smiling like any bride as she lay on the bed waiting for her husband. Caesar lay beside her, holding her in his arms. Baldwin and Raymond together drew white linen bedsheets over the couple.
Though witnesses should watch the bed, per doctrine and tradition, this time everyone instinctively looked away—even Raymond.
They heard Anna’s soft panting. Moments later, she cried out, accompanied by Caesar’s low reassurances. She sobbed, but happily. A few minutes later, it turned to kisses and bites.
At one point, she shouted Caesar’s name loudly. Such shouting was improper for a noble lady, but utterly real—then Caesar’s voice, unusually unsteady. “Anna!?”
“Continue,” Anna commanded. “I’ll curse you, I swear, if you dare stop now…” Then she let out a high cry mixing pain and joy. This could almost be called—but who would fault her now?
Patriarch Heraclius only occasionally glanced up to see, under torchlight, large red blooms staining the white linen bedsheet.
