"T-This is slander!"
The man twisted in his restraints as he shouted.
In the underground prison beneath the Imperial Palace, Renier of Montferrat—husband of Princess Maria Komnene—was half-tied to a chair.
A suffocating fear radiated from him.
"How could I possibly have plotted to assassinate His Majesty the Emperor?!"
"Princess Theodora has already testified," Emperor Alexios II said in a hard, icy tone. "She said you and Maria came to her and admitted your guilt."
His expression was colder than I had ever seen.
The guards were the same.
They kept their mouths shut, but their emotions were the opposite—
like they could explode at any moment.
I watched from outside the cell.
"You realized the assassination had failed and fled the palace immediately. And you still claim you're innocent?!"
"Y-Your Majesty! I was trying to stop the plan!"
Renier shouted even more desperately.
Only now had he realized he couldn't deny it.
"But before I could report anything, Maria suddenly acted on her own and—"
"So now you're trying to pin the blame on your wife," the young Emperor said, turning his head away. "Have some shame, Renier."
He looked back at the cell.
"I don't think there's anything more I need to hear from you."
"Y-Your Majesty!"
Alexios stepped out of the cell area.
Only then did I notice his hands trembling.
He looked at me and let out a deep breath.
"What do you think, Prince Baldwin?"
"Renier was an accomplice," I replied. "If he wasn't, he wouldn't have followed Princess Maria to flee to Hagia Sophia."
His confusion, regret, and fear all meant the same thing.
He was part of it.
"At least the Patriarch handed them over immediately," Alexios exhaled. "I didn't expect things to go this smoothly—over nothing more than pig's blood."
"What matters is the message—no, the meaning behind it," I said with a small smile.
The handkerchief placed before Hagia Sophia.
What soaked it wasn't Alexios's blood, but pig's blood.
Alexios had suffered a scrape, but not enough to bleed.
In a sense, we had staged a performance for the capital.
But the message was what mattered.
[Princess Maria tried to assassinate the Emperor!]
You could shout that a hundred times and it wouldn't move the crowd.
To reach the people's emotions, you needed something else.
A "blood-stained imperial handkerchief."
There was no stronger prop than that.
Even the Patriarch, carried along by public sentiment, had no choice but to expel the two from the cathedral.
"It's fortunate you're here in the capital, Prince Baldwin," Alexios said with a sigh. "If this had happened before the festival, the people wouldn't have believed me."
He continued, bitterly.
"They would have accused me of favoring the Latins."
"Well… I think Your Majesty would have made it through," I answered.
A lie, of course.
Without me, it would have become a disaster.
He would have marched soldiers into the cathedral, failed to seize the Princess, then tried to replace the Patriarch out of rage—only for public fury to explode.
A catastrophe within a catastrophe.
But something else bothered me.
Why had Maria Komnene made such a reckless move?
She should have known better than anyone that public sentiment had already begun to tilt toward the Emperor.
Had she decided that, given time, she would lose every chance?
I spat in disgust.
If so, I could at least understand why she'd done something this stupid.
"Ever since that day, there's something I wanted to ask you," Alexios said, clearing his throat.
"How did you realize they were assassins? The captain of the Guard admitted he didn't notice until the last moment."
He continued.
"They all entered the banquet hall through legitimate procedures."
"It wasn't anything extraordinary," I said. "They all had their hands inside their clothes—like they were gripping something."
This time, calling it instinct wouldn't matter.
"And they were clearly tense. Those signs piled up, and I became certain."
"I see… I didn't notice anything at all."
He looked at me as though I were impressive.
That gaze was… a little uncomfortable.
I cleared my throat.
"Where is Princess Maria now?"
"She's been confined in a private palace cell," he muttered. "Soon she'll be sent to a convent outside the capital."
"She'll spend the rest of her life there. I want revenge immediately—but…"
A convent.
In practice, the harshest punishment a princess could receive.
It was a convent in name, a prison in reality.
Still—better than death.
In the original timeline, I remembered Andronikos taking power and poisoning her.
"She likely won't live long even there," Alexios murmured. "She tried to kill me and Agnes. Once things calm down, we'll deal with her."
So even in this world, she wouldn't last long.
I looked at the boy.
After the assassination attempt, he seemed… older.
Or maybe he had no choice but to grow up.
With the world going mad around him, he couldn't stay a child.
"Then Renier—"
"We'll have to blind him so he can never cause trouble again," Alexios said evenly. "No one follows a blind man."
The old Byzantine tradition—unavoidable.
Blinding. Castration.
He looked at me and gave a faint smile.
"Come. Let's go to the council chamber, Prince Baldwin."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I left the room without reacting to the screams rising behind me.
If you try to kill someone, you should be prepared to die yourself.
And what mattered now was something else.
This is only the beginning.
Andronikos Komnenos.
He would have started moving already.
Imperial Palace.
With the crisis resolved swiftly, the capital recovered its stability.
Empress Dowager Maria (the Regent) summoned nobles and clergy to the palace and reaffirmed their oaths of loyalty.
The ones handling the aftermath were the Emperor, the Regency, and Princess Theodora.
I attended the meetings as an unofficial participant.
"We don't have time to waste," I said, tapping the table. "We must strengthen the capital's defenses immediately."
"Andronikos has been waiting for precisely this kind of chaos. We should assume he's already begun moving."
The capital's turmoil—
a greedy man like him would never let such an opportunity pass.
In a sense, Princess Maria and Renier had laid the foundation for him to act.
But it wasn't entirely bad.
If he brought an army and threatened the capital, we'd gain a clear justification to purge him.
I had to pull the thorn out now—while I was still here.
I couldn't remain in Constantinople forever.
"My father forgave him again and again simply because he was of imperial blood," Alexios said. "But truly…"
"If Andronikos draws in Admiral Kontostephanos and brings a fleet, that is open treason."
"And at the same time, it's a situation favorable to Your Majesty," I replied with a nod. "Because the capital isn't actually in chaos."
Andronikos was surely expecting the gates to open wide the moment he arrived.
That was what happened in the original history.
But not now.
Then Theodora interjected.
"Then it would be better if it appears as though the capital is still unstable. If he learns the situation has been secured, he may withdraw his forces."
A fair point.
No matter how arrogant he was, it was better to hide information.
There would certainly be Andronikos supporters inside Constantinople as well.
"Her Highness is correct," I said. "Forbid anyone from leaving the capital, and allow only a few designated merchants to depart."
I added, "I'll speak to the Latin merchants in advance. Tell them to spread rumors that the capital has fallen into chaos."
"Since there was an assassination attempt, the people will accept a travel ban," Theodora said.
I looked at her.
Among the imperial family, she had been the most proactive in containing this crisis.
With her openly supporting the Emperor, public sentiment swung decisively to our side.
Even now, her emotions were perfectly steady.
Did she truly want to protect the Empire her father had ruled?
"What is the state of our manpower, Your Majesty?" I asked.
"My mother has already issued a muster order," Alexios answered. "We won't lack defenders to post on the walls."
"If necessary, we can conscript even more."
"Before that, we need to know where the enemy is," I said. "And…"
I looked down at the map on the table.
Constantinople.
Even on a map, the Triple Walls felt reassuring.
Unless someone dragged cannon here, those walls couldn't be brought down.
The problem was the gates.
No matter how strong the walls were, if there was a traitor inside, it meant nothing.
"First, the Varangian Guard must be stationed at the gates and key points," I said. "So no one can open the gates on a whim."
How exactly had the original event unfolded again?
I forced my memory.
Andronikos arrived with a fleet, and through gates opened wide—
"And we should ready catapults along the seaward approach, so we can drive off any fleet the moment it nears."
If Andronikos realizes Constantinople will reject him, what will he do?
What happens next?
Then one fact struck me.
"The most important measure is something else. We must issue a scorched-earth order around the capital immediately."
"A scorched-earth order… You mean requisitioning supplies and food into the capital," Alexios said. "Including from civilians."
"But if the siege won't last long, is it necessary to inflict suffering on the people—"
"A scorched-earth order is necessary no matter what," I shook my head. "To reduce suffering, not increase it."
The fastest way to force Andronikos to kneel—
was to strip everything around him bare.
I smiled at Alexios and Theodora.
If we control information properly, he won't prepare for a long war.
"No matter how many soldiers he brings," I asked, "what happens when there's nothing to eat?"
The Aegean Sea.
A cluster of ships cut through the waves.
The great fleet led by Admiral Kontostephanos passed through the straits without interference.
"Everything is unfolding exactly as we planned, isn't it?" Andronikos Komnenos said, standing beside him.
As always, he hid his bulk beneath a large robe.
"It's almost too predictable," the Admiral replied.
"You worry too much—that's your problem," Andronikos said. "How many days until we arrive?"
"Only about two days now."
"Two days. Then in two days, the Empire will be in our hands."
Andronikos burst into laughter.
"If the rebellion fails—"
"Rebellion?" Andronikos waved a hand. "Remember—we are raising an army to protect the young Emperor. We are entering the capital as the Emperor's loyal subjects."
He continued smoothly.
"We have Princess Maria's letter as well. Sufficient justification. Did I not promise you? The capital would soon shake violently."
"Yes, you did," the Admiral sighed. "But there are problems."
"We sailed in haste with only minimal supplies—"
"What does supply matter when we'll enter the capital immediately?" Andronikos wiped the drool from his mouth and stared ahead.
The Queen of Cities.
Constantinople shimmered before his eyes.
"Ah… how long I've waited for this moment."