Chapter 622: Before Coronation
As dusk settled, the couple emerged from the Hagia Sophia, the ancient cathedral casting a silhouette against the dimming sky.
The two of them, Anna and Antonius, took a quiet moment to savour the moon’s glow. Walking hand in hand along the Theodosian walls, they traced the ancient cracks with their fingers. It felt like their own world - if one could overlook the loyal Cerberus maintaining a discreet distance of five meters, and the several Varangians ensuring a clear path ahead, the moonlight gently bathing Anna’s slightly rounded belly.
"It feels like forever since we knew we’d be welcoming a new soul," Anna mused, a tender smile playing on her lips as her hand rested protectively over her belly.
"Indeed." Antonius, feeling the weight of his duties, stretched his shoulders. He glanced back at Cerberus, "My friend, could we perhaps have a moment to ourselves?"
"My liege, it is my responsibility to stay by your side all the times for you and her Majesty’s safety."
"We are safe." Antonius waved his hands in dismay. "There are no need for you right now."
"But what if there are still some threats underlying in the city waiting for a chance to give you a strike when unexpected..."
"Cerberus, I hate that kind of drama, plays, or books that has a villain who seems to come out of nowhere with some conspiracies that strike the protagonist when he is having a good time, and it is unrealistic, we are sitting right on a fort right now."
Cerberus had no choice but to recall all the guards, but still he kept the sentries around, and retreated to a watch tower, still looking on his liege at a distance away.
The royal couple settled on the wall, gazing at the tranquil Aegean, the warm southern breeze caressing their faces.
They both fell into a comfortable silence, feeling the weight of the world on their shoulders but also the warmth of each other’s embrace. The sound of the Aegean waves and the cool breeze reminded them of the transient nature of power and empire, but the enduring nature of love and family.
"I have a wish, actually, my love."
"What is it?"
Antonius gazed back at the Hagia Sophia. "I want our daughter Agatha to be baptised again by the Ecumenical Patriarch, you see, he is like the pope of the East, leader of the Christianity world, if our daughter can be baptised by him instead of the Bishop of Thessaloniki..."
However, before he could continue any further, he found that his wife is looking straight at him with her lips twitching, as if she is laughing at him.
"A Christian cannot be baptised twice my love, the sacrament of Baptism is seen as a unique and irreversible event that initiates a person into the life of the Church, it leaves a spiritual mark on our child’s soul that is permanent and unremovable, I think that this should be common sense for all Christians."
A hint of red crept up Antonius’s cheeks as he tried to defend for himself. "Well, I did not know! I mean, this kind of things is way too trivial for me to know, I mean... Fine, sorry I am stupid, you know me, I have only become literate for like less than a few years, I have good intentions, for I just want our daughter to be more prestigious..."
Anna’s laughter was light, like a tinkling bell. "I know, and I adore that endearing naivety in you."
They returned to their silent contemplation, taking solace in each other’s company against the ancient walls.
...
Not everyone are having a leisure time for this night, there are some who still had chores to do, such as Julian.
No sooner had Julian returned from his duties than he found his comrades already in high spirits, surrounded by the amber glow of the moon. Casting off his cloak, Julian approached, only to be heartily greeted by Mauro.
"Come, Julian! Let the weight of the day lift from your shoulders. Do you not feel it? We’ve made history tonight!" Mauro declared, slapping Julian on the back.
Helio, slightly inebriated, raised his cup high. "To us, the unifiers of the Greek Peninsula! To Constantinople reclaimed! And soon, the heart of Anatolia will echo with our march!"
Fjodor, laughing with the abandon only victory can provide, gestured towards Khalid, "Tell me, Khalid, can you fathom what’s next? The Caesar as the one true Basileus of Rome! And what does that promise for old warriors like us? Lands? Titles? Wealth?"
Khalid sipped his juice, pondering before admitting, "It’s a new world. I can’t claim to know all its turns."
Fjodor leaned in, animated, "Titles, lands, nobility! We’ve bled for this land, we died for the land, we fought for the land and soon our names will be etched in its annals, immortalized! The Caesar ascends, and so shall we. What greater honour than to be the architects of a reborn empire?"
Julian’s stern expression softened just a touch, "Dreams of titles and grandeur intoxicate you tonight, Fjodor. Such topics can only be determined by the Caesar himself; we have no say and we should not talk about this matter privately."
Fjodor, undeterred, pressed on, "But why not dream? Shouldn’t our families bear the mark of our sacrifices? Wouldn’t you want your lineage to be remembered? Do you remember, how many of our comrades have died on the path in achieving this greatness, their families are still waiting for their return, and what about those with great contributions towards what we have today, like you Julian, do you not want to cast your name of Athyras into the pillar of victory forever? And... Do you still not realise, those lieutenants beneath you are waiting to be promoted too."
Julian lowered his head, while Khalid submerged himself into his bottle, while Mauro started thinking of something to himself, probably Giovanni. A pensive silence enveloped them.
Helio, ever the peacemaker, thrust a mug towards Julian, "Dreams aside, tonight, we drink. To victory, to comrades, to history made! When was the last you let yourself breathe, my friend? When did you last embrace your family?"
Helio then raised his cup high in the air. "Amidst this victory, let us not forget about our men, our soldiers, those who are still alive, and those who have left us. This victory, this celebration, this coronation, is not just for the Caesar, not just for us seating here, but for everyone who tried hard pursuing our common dreams."
Julian’s gaze drifted to the looming Theodosian walls and the familiar port beyond, lost in memories and hopes for the future.
Top of Form
...
It only took a week before this city turned into a massive construction site, as carts after carts of fresh coins are pulled out of the treasury back there in Thessaloniki, loads after loads of building resources are piled up on the ships in various ports of the Mediterranean, and then set sail for their common destination- Constantinople.
The month of coronation of Antonius has been decided by the church to be in mid October, meaning that that only allows a mere three month for preparation. After having a full inspection on the city, touring around the worn torn buildings and rubbles of the city’s ancient past, Abdullah told the Caesar that it is best that if they can renovate the city’s view before they can commence the coronation, not just as a way to demonstrate the state’s economical strength, but also show the invited foreign guests and the citizens of Constantinople that a new dawn has descended. In other words, Constantinople in her current state is far from being a qualified capital city for the role as the Third Rome.
Ambassadors rushed out from Constantinople, wishing to pass the invitations written by Anna to various nations that Rome has built connections with beforehand, hoping to make it fast enough so that foreign envoys can make it to the city on time. Almost every republic and kingdom are on the list of delivery, even including Constantinople’s age long rival, Zaganos Pasha on the east and the Venetians on the West.
Only two factions received no invitation to the coronation, Abbas Pasha, for obvious reasons, and the Pope, due to the opposition from the clergies in Thessaloniki and Constantinople. The split between East and West, even after so many years and numerous events, are still torn apar, and judging by the looks of it, it would yet take a long time, probably centuries, before the two sides can repair their relationships.
However, there still came a guest from the Vatican, at a time when Antonius expected the least, a man named Leon Battista Alberti, in his mid-fifties, arrived at the port of Theodosius, just two weeks after the capture of the city.
To the surprise of Abdullah, this man named Leon Alberti carried no official Papal Bull from the Vatican, instead he only carried a letter of good willing from the new Pope Paul III, stating that Leon is not here as the ambassador of the Catholic Church, instead as a private ambassador from the pope himself.
