After pacifying these troublesome children, Manuel turned and pulled his wife, Barbara, into their bedchamber; he had a bold idea he wanted to discuss with her.
"You want to interfere in Constantinople?" Barbara exclaimed, hearing her husband's idea.
Manuel could only grit his teeth and nod at his wife's reaction. Although, theoretically, he didn't need to consider her feelings when making such a decision, this time his actions concerned her homeland and her brother.
Out of his affection for his beloved wife and a lingering sense of guilt, he ultimately decided to discuss the matter with her beforehand.
But to his surprise, Barbara merely sighed, patted her face a few times with both hands, and declared that she would support all his decisions.
"Aren't you going to try and stop me?" Manuel bent down, looking his wife, who was a head shorter than him, directly in the eye, his face devoid of its usual wit and humor, but instead revealing a turbulent serenity.
"Because I am your wife, is that reason enough? Since twelve years ago, witnessed by the Holy Father, haven't we always been…" Seeing the anxiety and worry hidden in her husband's heart, Barbara stepped forward and reached out her right hand to caress his face.
Before she could finish, Manuel interrupted her, "Have you thought this through? This might be unfair to your recently deceased elder brother." Even if the siblings had once fallen out due to Barbara's rashness, over ten years had passed, and as family, they had long since reconciled.
"I believe you will surely find a solution that satisfies everyone. And who has ever been able to oppose something you've decided?" As she spoke, Barbara looked directly into her husband's brown eyes, her own dark eyes filled with unwavering trust and love.
In response, her husband could only give a helpless smile, falling silent as if unsure how to respond to his wife's trust.
This silence lasted for several minutes before Manuel broke it himself with a frank declaration, "I want to enter the city."
"But," his Catherine frowned, "with such a formidable enemy at hand, what use is a crown without jewels?"
"So, not now," the Caesar said, spreading his hands and smiling at his wife, "To wear a truly meaningful crown, I must first restore its former glory."
"In other words, let one of your brothers wear this crown for now." As he said this, he noticed his wife's gaze shift from surprise to understanding, and finally to support and tenderness. This made him awkwardly turn his back, quickly adding:
"So, Barbara, what are your thoughts? You know your brothers much better than I do. Excluding Dimitrios, which of your remaining brothers do you think would be more beneficial to us and the Empire?" Clearly, he intended to consult his wife's opinion to decide the direction of his intervention.
"Although Brother Dimitrios is indeed the most incompetent of the incompetent, isn't it too blunt to so decisively exclude him from consideration?" Barbara couldn't help but rub her forehead and complain, looking at her husband, who had returned to his usual state and was speaking earnestly.
Nonsense, that worm Dimitrios Palaiologos was notorious in the late history of East Rome even in his past life.
As a veritable Ottoman sycophant, compared to him, the spiritual Latins Manuel I Komnenos and the Turks' old friend John VI Kantakouzenos could both be considered loyal patriots.
His limited interactions with this younger Brother-in-law in this life only reinforced the stereotype Manuel had formed of him in his previous life.
Of course, he couldn't say that in front of his wife now. Regardless, Dimitrios was ostensibly her brother and his Brother-in-law. So, after a moment's thought, Manuel countered his wife, "Are you, Barbara, more inclined to support him?"
"No," when speaking of her younger brother, Barbara's disdain was evident on her face, "Holy Mother Mary, how can a fellow who is inextricably linked with the Ottoman, that minion of Lucifer, ascend the golden throne of the Mother of Cities and become the supreme ruler of the Empire?"
To be so disliked by his own family, that worm of a Brother-in-law truly must have been a failure in this life. Manuel thought to himself.
After decisively excluding the universally despised Dimitrios, they quickly ruled out Thomas, who was at this time still of low prestige and too young.
By the process of elimination, the remaining candidates were Barbara's second brother, Theodore, and the Moria Despot, Constantine.
"Who do you think the citizens of Constantinople would prefer?" Although he already had an answer in mind, Manuel still wanted to solicit his wife's opinion.
"Brother Constantine," Barbara answered without hesitation, "When our elder brother was still alive, he had thoughts of making him his successor, and he has a distinguished military record in Peloponnese, noble character, and outstanding appearance.
Although our family's prestige is not what it once was, if we must choose one, the people of the capital would certainly lean towards Brother Constantine. Moreover, only he can ensure that our elder brother's unexpected death is smoothly accepted within the Empire."
When this topic came up, Barbara immediately looked at her husband and added with conviction, "But speaking of appearance, my brother still can't compare to you, Manuel."
Is that true… Never mind, there's no point in dwelling on such subjective matters…
Setting aside these distracting thoughts, Manuel ultimately took his wife's advice and decided to support Constantine to stabilize the situation and profit from it. By this time, it was already evening.
"Shall we go out and look?" Manuel asked casually. And to her husband's words, Barbara surprisingly firmly expressed her desire to go out.
If she wants to go out and look, then let's go out and look, the Caesar readily indulged his beloved wife, moving from the bedchamber to the balcony, preparing to casually admire the scenery outside.
But to his surprise, the beauty of Trabzon at that moment completely exceeded his imagination. The setting sun sank into the sea, and the lingering afterglow stubbornly illuminated the city.
At the same time, those citizens who lived comfortably had already lit their indoor bonfires and candlelight, preventing this large medieval city from plunging completely into darkness after nightfall.
At this moment, thousands of household lights, accompanied by the lingering evening glow, transformed Trabzon into a painting that later Impressionists would particularly praise.
"It's truly beautiful," Barbara smiled at her husband, "Standing here, doesn't it all feel within reach?"
"Yes," but Manuel merely closed his eyes with reluctance, for he knew that he could make it appear, and he could also make it disappear.
As if seeing through his thoughts, his wife spoke playfully, as if to comfort him, "At least it exists here now. And I believe it will in the future as well… Eh, Manuel, we haven't had dinner yet, what are you doing…"
Before she could finish, Manuel, in a very mood-breaking manner, scooped her up, "Barbara, I think you're quite right. So let's have dinner tomorrow morning." With that, he carried her back to the bedchamber and fought for a night.
However, it was impossible for him to feel nothing.
After waking in the morning, Manuel dressed himself and walked to the window. His feelings from the previous evening still lingered in his mind, and even his extremely mood-breaking actions hadn't fully dispelled them.
"Another big gamble." His gaze, filled with complexity, lifted towards the west of the Black Sea, as if he was looking afar at Constantinople, the Empress of All Cities ①.
At this moment, he seemed to recall the four gamble-like battles against Genoa, Crimea, Trabzon, and the Ottoman. Fortunately, he had won his bets.
Now, another opportunity lay before him, and he could and could only choose to resolutely gamble on it.
"Let me see again, what numbers the dice will show this time."
The next morning, Manuel convened the cabinet members in the imperial palace's secret chamber to hold an emergency meeting regarding the accidental death of John VIII and how to deal with Constantinople.
After more than two hours of intense discussion, everyone unanimously agreed that the Bosphorus Despotate would intervene in the Empire's internal affairs by supporting the Moria Despot, Constantine, with whom it had the best relations.
That afternoon, Manuel dispatched members of the secret service to contact his Brother-in-law, Constantine, who was still in Morea at the time.
From then on, the intensity of the struggle among all parties for the future ownership of Constantinople over the next four years escalated.