"So, my dear Little husband, can you explain what my cousin sister meant by 'women only slow down your path to success'?" Half an hour later, on the already-sailed caravel, Barbara narrowed her eyes and questioned her husband with a smile. Because when the siblings were talking, she stood by with their children, cooperatively not interrupting their farewell.
"Ahem, don't mind these details." Manuel, for his part, sat upright on a low wooden chair, put on a serious face, and "defended" himself.
After some mutual teasing, they finally began to discuss serious matters again. "So, Manuel, where is our next stop?" Although Barbara had embarked on this pilgrimage to Alexander with him, he had not fully revealed the specific details to her.
"Constantinople." Manuel's tone was calm as he answered her, but the burning intensity in his eyes was hard to hide.
As if sensing the burning intensity and anticipation in Manuel's eyes, Barbara reminded him with a touch of melancholy, "Manuel, I advise you not to have too high expectations. More than half a century ago, Constantinople was no longer as glorious as it had been for hundreds of years."
"I know, but she is Constantinople after all…"
About three or four days later, the caravel merchant ship arrived in the Galata region of Constantinople before noon. Since Emperor Michael VIII Palaiologos granted the area to the Genoese in 1267, according to the Treaty of Nymphaeum previously signed with the Republic of Genoa, it became a Genoese concession, or more appropriately, a colony. If Michael VIII to Andronikos III could barely restrict these Latins, then after the outbreak of the Two Johns Civil War①, Galata became a festering sore on Constantinople, constantly squeezing the city's lifeblood out for Latin mosquitoes to suck.
Looking at the bustling scene of Galata, with people coming and going and countless merchant ships docking and departing, and then at the comparatively dilapidated old city of Constantinople on the south bank of the Golden Horn, Manuel couldn't help but sigh. If not for those historical changes, the prosperity and tranquility of Galata should have been the true appearance of Constantinople.
But history has no if, and what has happened will never change again. Just as a river will not flow backward, and the setting sun will not rise again.
"Manuel, don't…" Seeing her husband's mournful look, Barbara instinctively wanted to comfort him. But in the end, she herself became melancholic. Although she had left her hometown Constantinople for many years, she still couldn't help but be moved by the city's current state.
But people must look forward. After a brief moment of sadness, Manuel, who had recovered from this emotion first, gently patted his wife's shoulder. Barbara also awoke from her reverie, and the sad face hidden beneath her veil quickly returned to normal. After all, they did not specifically pass through Constantinople just to mourn this ancient city in advance.
More than an hour later, accompanied by guards, Manuel's family quickly and safely entered the old city of Constantinople. Since he had arranged for Serenus to communicate secretly with several members of the Palaiologos family in advance and received a positive reply, he took advantage of this pilgrimage to personally respond to them.
After passing through the Venetians quarter, the Forum of Theodosius, the Monastery of Christ Pantocrator, the Walls of Constantinople, and the Chora Church of the Holy Savior, Manuel arrived at the front of the Blachernae Palace, as agreed in their previous correspondence. Since he had sent Badars to deliver a message separately after entering the old city, Manuel's family was escorted into the palace by the guards at the palace gates after only a short wait. The current Roman Emperor John VIII was inside, waiting to have a good talk with his capable young Brother-in-law about deepening cooperation.
And these guards looked stronger than ordinary Constantinople citizens, and even the Greek Eastern Orthodox inside and outside the city; and judging by their blond and brown hair, and their either dark green or dark blue pupils, they were probably foreigners. After asking around, his idea was confirmed, because these guards all claimed to be descendants of the former Varangian Guard. However, how much of these words were true is unknown.
Upon entering the Blachernae Palace, while marveling at the classical beauty and long history of the palace's interior decoration, Manuel also shook his head at its dilapidation and implied decay. Although this was the palace, apart from those ancient artifacts that could never be abandoned for the dignity of the monarch, there were actually not many valuable items left here. Although the palace walls were still paved and filled with what looked like exquisite mosaic tiles, a closer look revealed that they were not products of recent centuries. If Manuel's conjecture was not mistaken, their age was likely older than his grandfather Stephen or great-grandfather Basil.
After a brief thought, he did not continue to observe the palace decorations. Because he had seen similar decorations before, whether in Bangkok Pu Palace or the Trabzon Grand Palace, they all adopted this typical East Rome style (what is now called "Byzantine style") internal structure. Speaking of which, in the days before he left, Manuel had spent some ducat to renovate Bangkok Pu Palace, imitating the internal layout of the Trabzon Palace. Now their Gavras family's old residence should be called Bangkok Pu Royal Palace.
About fifteen minutes later, Manuel's family met John VIII Palaiologos in a well-lit room. The Basileus, wearing a pointed leather cap and a dalmatica adorned with blue spots, looked melancholic, as if constantly worried about how to perpetuate the empire; his slightly curved dark brown short hair seemed to have been carefully groomed for today, and his dark black eyes held a resolve and persistence no weaker than Manuel's.
After seeing his younger sister after a long time, John VIII opened his arms and embraced her warmly, apologizing for having rashly changed her name years ago. As for his Brother-in-law Manuel, he did not ignore him either, but after embracing his sister, he turned and gave him a ceremonial hug. Manuel politely returned an orthodox Roman salute as a subject, indicating his willingness to cooperate actively.
After they prayed together, Barbara cooperatively left with their children, leaving her husband and brother in the room to discuss important matters.
"I always feel like someone is missing?" About a minute or two after his wife and children left, Manuel glanced at the doorway of the room.
"Yes," John VIII nodded in response, "He should be here soon. For the Lord's sake, come in, Prime Minister Lucas Notaras."