Chapter 219: The Lord Of Cyprus In High Demand
Damara did not know that in the room next door, there was also a group of women nervously awaiting the final result.
Since the Gerard family was so eager about this marriage, they certainly would not put all their chips on their stubborn old patriarch and his daughter Damara.
In this room was the Gerard family’s alternative; the girl surrounded in the middle by the ladies was Damara’s cousin, two years older than Damara. Her appearance might not compare to Princess Sibylla in Holy Cross Castle, but she could still be called elegant and refined, and she had one advantage that neither Princess Sibylla nor Damara could match: she was no longer just a flower, but a plump fruit.
When her chest heaved with excitement, even the heavy cloak over her outer garment could not hide her graceful and alluring figure; the heat, juices, and vitality contained in that youthful body seemed ready to burst through the restraints of her clothes at any moment. Even in church, priests’ gazes would involuntarily linger on her, and her father had long decided to find her a satisfactory marriage, which was why it had been delayed until now.
But even so, they had not expected to encounter such good fortune.
However, as the saying goes, nothing good comes easy; the Gerard family still hoped to persuade the patriarch or Damara—if possible, Damara was the best choice, as she had spent a long time with Caesar in Holy Cross Castle.
And after formally making the oath, Caesar had once personally taken risks just for a request from Damara.
Of course, that oath had now been dissolved, but they would say the dissolution was perfectly timed. After all, if they were discussing marriage while still bound by that oath, it would inevitably lead to criticism that the relationship was not pure enough, affecting Damara and Caesar’s reputations.
Damara’s father, the Gerard family patriarch—if he could not be persuaded due to his stubbornness, no problem; if they could induce Damara to agree, that would work too.
They knew that Cyprus’s master Caesar was a man with a soft heart; even if he were not, how could a knight refuse a noble lady seeking his help? As long as Damara was willing to follow their words, pour out her troubles and worries to him, and beg for his pity… perhaps Caesar would agree to a secret marriage with her.
Although according to doctrine and law, marriage should have the permission and blessing of both families’ parents, Caesar was her own guardian, and as for Damara’s father—as long as a secret wedding was held, unless he wanted his youngest daughter to be ruined in reputation forever, wander in exile, or even have to enter a monastery, he would have to acknowledge the marriage.
Damara’s cousin, though still maintaining the poise befitting a noble lady, sat upright on the chair with her hands on her chest, but in her heart she silently prayed, “Don’t let her agree, don’t let her agree…”
She felt the hope was slim; after all, which lovestruck girl had not met such a young, handsome husband with status, wealth, and power in her dreams?
The door opened, and seeing the newcomer’s expression of both worry and dissatisfaction, Damara’s cousin nearly jumped from her chair—if not for her mother firmly pressing her hand.
Clearly, if Damara had agreed, they should now be beaming with joy; making this expression could only mean Damara had also refused them, which meant she had a chance—sure enough, she was told to prepare.
The Gerard family did not yet have the ability to directly negotiate marriage with Cyprus’s master, but they had their own shortcut: Damara’s uncle had a closer relationship with Abbot John than Damara’s father did, so they asked Abbot John to write a letter recommending the cousin to serve as a handmaid to Caesar’s sister Nathia.
Nathia had once been just a female slave in the Sultan’s Harem, but now in Christian countries, she was the Count of Edessa’s daughter; to the Byzantines, she was at least a “noble lady in purple,” meaning the Emperor’s female kin, and if not being too strict, she could even be called a princess.
But for Damara’s cousin, going to serve as a handmaid to such a woman was undoubtedly humiliating, yet her mother persuaded her, “If you can marry Caesar, you will replace her and become the most honored woman on this Cyprus.”
“Then when will I…”
Her mother smiled, “Don’t be anxious, child; someone is more anxious than you.” After all, they had done this behind Damara’s father’s back and did not want this stubborn old man to know and cause unnecessary trouble.
So the next morning, Damara’s cousin boarded a sedan chair and headed to the Governor’s Palace.
The square in front of the Governor’s Palace was always very lively, as it had been a long time since the Byzantine Empire’s Emperor sent a governor here.
So although the Governor’s Palace had not been abandoned and was periodically cleaned and repaired, a mansion without an owner naturally had no meaning—and it was in such an important location, so gradually some peddlers and vendors turned it into a temporary market, more and more people gathered here, and some merchants even had fixed spots—now this square had become a big market.
This big market could be considered a fixed market, and of course it would not only open at certain times.
So it was always bustling and noisy here, but unlike other places, Nicosia was not a port city; it was in the heartland of Cyprus, so the merchants here mostly served the residents, with flowers, fruit, vegetables, cloth, spices, oil, and various everyday vessels and items.
And after Caesar moved into the Governor’s Palace, some came to consult his opinion—whether to disperse these vendors, as it looked somewhat undignified and not solemn enough.
But Caesar rejected the proposal; the Governor’s Palace was large enough that even stationing a thousand-man army there would be ample. Whether resting, handling affairs, or receiving officials was all in the depths of the Governor’s Palace, completely unaffected by the vendors in the square.
Moreover, sometimes he would disguise himself, wrap a headscarf, cover his face leaving only his eyes visible, and walk into the crowd—though his green eyes were conspicuous, if just passing by, few would notice him; this was his little secret.
For now, only Baldwin knew, and even when he came to Cyprus to meet Caesar, they would disguise themselves together and go out—this reminded them of their time in Holy Cross Castle, pretending to be Byzantine noble youths wandering the market, when they were so carefree and unrestrained.
Compared to now, both Baldwin and Caesar would subconsciously listen to the surroundings; they were not just guarding against assassins—or rather, not merely vigilant—but wanted to hear what the residents here cared about and discussed.
Some things nobles tried hard to conceal became mere gossip to pass the time among commoners; these messages seemed miscellaneous, but with careful sorting, they could reveal many important issues.
They also cared about the prices of wheat and sea fish, as well as vital civilian goods like salt, sugar, and olive oil—today Caesar stole a moment to disguise himself as an ordinary merchant and go to the market to check those prices.
What he saw satisfied him. Before Lent, prices on Cyprus were still high; though he had gathered merchants and ordered them to stabilize prices quickly, especially the most important wheat and olive oil for residents, such unrest was hard to quell rapidly.
Even Caesar had prepared for prices on Cyprus to take two or three months to slowly return to normal.
But the fall in prices was faster than he imagined.
He bought a pack of pickled olives from a vendor, opened the leaves, popped one olive into his mouth while chewing, and headed toward the side door of the Governor’s Palace; the pickled olives were rich in flavor, even with a hint of sweetness.
Even such a vendor’s pickled olives contained sugar; Cyprus’s prosperity was no exaggeration. But before he could cross the square, he was blocked by a crowd.
He curiously tapped the burly knight in front of him, “What’s happening?”
Caesar’s height already exceeded most men his age. But the problem was, the square was not just full of walking crowds, but also mules, horses, and camels, along with the people or goods they carried.
The knight turned to glance at him, seeing the interrupter was just an ordinary merchant, but this knight had a good temper and still answered.
“We’re watching our lord’s three wives.”
“Wait,” Caesar’s face under the linen hood almost uncontrollably showed shock: “I… no, when did your lord get three wives?”
The knight burst out laughing: “Yes, yes, our lord is a Christian, not a Saracen Sultan or Caliph. Of course he can only have one wife, but now there are three candidates waiting for him to choose—truly an enviable beauty of a situation; those three are all beauties, and of noble birth.” He tsked softly: “Did you see that white sedan chair? That’s the Gerard family girl; she’s the lowest status among the three candidates.”
Caesar had indeed heard his sister mention that the Gerard family wanted to send a girl to be Nathia’s handmaid. He certainly knew the Gerard family’s true intent—but at this time, refusing the girl would be tantamount to refusing the Gerard family’s loyalty, just like with Amalric I: even without demands, his vassals and lords would send their sisters and daughters to serve Princess Sibylla—and henceforth, all who served him would send female kin to serve his sister.
“Who are the other two?” another who had clearly just arrived asked with keen interest.
“The other two are truly remarkable. One is the Doge of Venice’s niece, and as for the other, you can probably guess—look at that golden sedan with the purple silk robe; it’s the Byzantine Empire Emperor’s niece.”
“This Emperor has so many nieces…”
“Doesn’t he? But this princess did not bring a rich dowry. Though from what I see, she’s not bringing a dowry but rather wants to take one away.”
This remark was rather vicious, yet it reflected what people were thinking: in countries faithful to God, whether Roman law, customary law, or canon law all stipulated that in a marriage, if the husband died, his widow could inherit his property.
This property might not be all, especially if the husband already had heirs, but if in this and previous marriages the husband had no heirs, his territory could be considered his wife’s property, which she could take as her dowry into the next marriage.
“I don’t think the King of Ayyarasa Road will allow that to happen,” the knight said.
Although relations between the Byzantine Empire and the Crusaders were on the brink of collapse, as long as the Saracens remained a great enemy, the Crusaders could not completely sever the alliance with the Byzantine Empire.
And in Frankish law, as Caesar’s closest male kin and also his lord, the King of Ayyarasa Road, Baldwin IV, had guardianship over his widow and children. That is, both Caesar’s widow’s and his children’s marriages were in this king’s hands.
The King of Ayyarasa Road would never let the Byzantines take it back.
“Manuel I will not let it rest so easily.”
That rebellion that nearly swept all of Cyprus led to the downfall of fifteen families, the death and exile of thousands; even the stupidest person could guess from the Grand Prince’s head on display and Constantinople’s hypocritical condemnation why Manuel I had so unusually generously made Cyprus the princess’s dowry.
He had originally wanted to use the Crusaders to uproot the forces Grand Prince Alexios had secretly built here, while using the Grand Prince’s anger and panic to prevent the marriage from truly happening; then he could eliminate his greatest threat and fully reclaim Cyprus intact.
But things did not develop as he hoped, resulting in him losing both the Grand Prince and Cyprus; everyone who knew the inside story was mocking this self-proclaimed clever emperor.
“So this marriage definitely won’t happen then.”
“Probably not, unless the bride’s dowry is Constantinople.” The knight’s words made those around laugh; no one thought it real, but it was certain Constantinople’s envoy would bring other enticing conditions to try to make the marriage happen.
“What about the Venetians? Why would the Venetians suddenly join this contest?”
Relations between the Venetians and Crusaders were not amicable—they had been Byzantine Empire territory before the eighth century, under the Governor of the Ravenna military district, but after the famous Ravenna revolt, Venice effectively seceded from the Byzantine Empire.
Though they still symbolically paid taxes and tribute to the Empire’s Emperor. But from the eighth century, for three hundred years, the Doge of Venice was chosen only from locals; they even established a Council of Ten, like the ancient Roman senate, from which the Doge was selected, and all Venetian policies, laws, and actions were decided by the Council of Ten.
The Venetian-Crusader rift was also because they had once accepted the Byzantine Empire’s commission, threatening the Crusaders in Antioch.
But a few years ago, Manuel I grew dissatisfied with what the Venetians offered. He wanted to reclaim the privileges previous Byzantine Emperors had granted Venice; the Venetians naturally refused, fighting a naval battle with the Byzantine Empire’s fleet: 120 Venetian ships against 150 Byzantine ones—undoubtedly, the Venetians lost, as the Byzantine Empire, even in decline, was still a lion, not cattle and horses.
But similarly, the Venetians gained nothing. In that war and the subsequent “pacification,” 20,000 Venetians died, their residential areas were abolished, privileges revoked, and merchants expelled from some places.
Now they had directly approached Caesar, and everyone knew why; at this point, that meddlesome fellow could not help chuckling, “If our lord really married a Venetian and then attacked Constantinople with their fleet, that scene would be truly amusing.”
Caesar was not sure if that scene would really be amusing; he only knew the scene he was about to face definitely would not be.
