1444, Byzantium Resurrects

"Why aren't you going?"

"I'm afraid of hunting accidents."

Isaac blurted out.

Leonor was silent, somewhat confused.

She sat down beside him, bringing with her a pleasant fragrance.

"I thought you were like me and enjoyed wandering around the castle alone."

She gathered her hair, which had been blown by the wind, and turned her big eyes towards him.

Isaac felt his heart skip a beat.

"The Muslim executioner of North Africa. Countless people have died because of you."

"Are you afraid, too?"

Leonor seemed somewhat interested.

The air was filled with the faint scent of lavender mixed with a young girl's unique fragrance, making Isaac feel exhilarated.

It smelled so good...

Isaac became alert and jumped back immediately.

"Everyone has a fearful side, and I am no exception."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid that after I die, Constantinople will be reduced to ashes, the emperor will die in battle, and the citizens will run around crying out in despair."

"I'm also afraid of seeing Hagia Sophia converted into a mosque and the double-headed eagle flag replaced by the crescent flag."

"But aren't the walls of Constantinople impregnable? The Ottomans can't break them, can they?"

Isaac smiled.

This was the prevailing view throughout Western Europe at the time. Although everyone believed that the Eastern Roman Empire was on the verge of collapse, there was also a sense of hope.

"There are no impregnable walls, nor cities that can never fall."

After uttering such heavy words, the two fell silent.

"You are not very good at conversation, Your Highness."

Leonor said slowly, summing up.

"What about you, Princess?"

Isaac asked in return.

"Do you enjoy chatting?"

"I prefer to observe."

She pointed to her beautiful eyes.

"By observing a person's eyes, you can often see into their heart."

Isaac laughed.

He didn't believe in such things.

"Except for what's inside me?"

Leonor shook her head.

"I saw fear. Fear that has been there for a long time."

The contemptuous smile on Isaac's face suddenly disappeared.

"So I was curious and came to talk to you."

Isaac was silent for a moment.

"Do you want to know what I saw in your eyes?"

He suddenly leaned in close, staring into Leonor's large amber eyes.

"Oh?"

Leonor became interested.

He slowly lowered his head, moving closer to her delicate face.

Her bright, deep eyes; slightly reddened skin; rosy lips; and fair neck were right in front of him.

He leaned closer to her ear, and Leonor's fine hairs stood on end. Her breathing quickened slightly, and her body trembled.

She was obviously still a little afraid of his closeness.

Isaac pressed his lips against her ear.

"The desire for power and to manipulate people's hearts."

...

Isaac hummed a little tune and returned to his study.

The psychological battle between the two ended with Leonor fleeing in panic.

A fourteen-year-old girl thinking about how to read people's hearts every day?

This is the art of ruling!

Thinking of the historical evaluations of this princess, Isaac slowly suppressed his smile.

Then he thought about it again and felt a little schadenfreude.

She had given up the glory of Paris in its prime to marry moribund Vienna.

Had she married into the French royal family, her political skills might have enabled her to achieve something great.

After all, there were many examples before her.

But Austria...

It was just a conservative rural area at the time.

But she was truly beautiful!

When he first saw her, Frederick III, that fool, thought she was too thin and would have difficulty bearing children.

Isaac sighed regretfully and returned to his study.

"Your Highness, they are here."

Foreign Minister Anderson whispered in his ear.

Isaac nodded.

He opened the door, and three middle-aged men, dressed as priests, stood up and bowed.

"No need for formalities. Please, sit down."

The three men introduced themselves briefly.

The oldest, Sinoda, was the head of the Coptic Orthodox Church in the region of Cyrenaica.

The Coptic Orthodox Church is another branch of Christianity, alongside Roman Catholicism and Greek Orthodoxy. It developed from the original Church of Alexandria.

Originally, "Coptic" was a general term used by Arabs to refer to residents of the Egyptian region, but it later evolved to refer specifically to Egyptian Orthodox Christians.

There were originally many Coptic Orthodox Christians in Egypt, but the Arabs were never able to completely assimilate them.

These Christians were able to obtain a place to live surrounded by Muslims by paying huge "blood taxes."

In the early 14th century, the Mamluks carried out a horrific massacre of Coptic Orthodox Christians in Egypt, drastically reducing their numbers in the surrounding area.

In the entire Cyrenaica region, only the city of Breiga had a Coptic community of around 4,000 people.

They adopted a wait-and-see approach towards Isaac's occupation and had little faith in their fellow Christians.

The Copts harbored deep hatred towards Catholicism, though they were slightly more tolerant of Orthodox Christianity, albeit still quite resistant.

"Your Highness, what status will you grant us?"

Sinoda asked nervously.

Isaac sighed softly.

Clearly, these Copts did not consider Isaac to be their brother at that moment in time.

Thinking of this, Isaac silently cursed Peter I of Cyprus.

This old man had used his silver tongue to recruit an army of over 10,000 men who landed suddenly at Alexandria in 1365 and almost razed the city to the ground.

They burned, killed, and looted, slaughtering Christians, Muslims, and anyone who got in their way.

The Coptic Orthodox Church suffered heavy losses in this catastrophe, with many believers dying at the hands of their "brothers."

"As long as you acknowledge my rule, submit to me, and accept me as your king,"

Isaac said, looking into the eyes of the new Noda.

"Then you will be legal citizens of the Empire, just as you were a thousand years ago."

"You will not have to pay heavy blood taxes, nor will you face discrimination from anyone. All you need to do is fulfil your duties as citizens."

Isaac decided to grant the Coptic Orthodox Church some religious autonomy.

Unlike the Roman Catholic Church, the Coptic Orthodox Church did not have a figurehead with both secular and religious power, such as the Pope or the Holy See, so it would not threaten Isaac's rule.

They had been relatively obedient during the Eastern Roman Empire and had not done anything out of the ordinary.

Most importantly, they were numerous. Even in the 21st century, they still accounted for nearly 10% of Egypt's total population.

They also have close ties with the Armenian Apostolic Church, the Assyrian Church of the East, the Syrian Orthodox Church, and the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church. Given the current decline of Orthodox Christianity, Isaac would benefit greatly from their support.

"Thank you for your generosity, but words are meaningless. Please put these promises in writing."

"This is a prerequisite for our next round of negotiations."

Sinoda's eyes were firm.

What a guy!

Isaac decided to teach them a lesson.

"These matters require lengthy negotiations between the political and religious circles of both sides. I cannot be so rash."

"Then we..."

"Then do you still want to resist me?"

Isaac sat up straight and stared coldly at the three men who were pushing their luck.

"I have already shown you the utmost goodwill. If you can't wait this long, don't wait at all."

Difficult? Then let's not do it!

The three men exchanged glances.

"Your Highness, we..."

Sinoda tried to argue, but the priest pulled him back.

He shook his head at Sinoda and bowed to Isaac in apology.

"Your Highness, to be honest, I am from Cairo."

"Oh? That's interesting."

Isaac motioned for him to continue.

"My name is Anata, and I am a senior priest of the Eastern Orthodox Church in Cairo, representing the Patriarch of Alexandria."

"Hello, honorable messenger. What do you want from me?"

Isaac bowed slightly to show his respect for the Coptic Orthodox Church.

"To be honest, the Church is in a very bad situation in Egypt. You defeated Sultan Chakmak and emptied his treasury."

"Do you need us to fill some of that emptiness?"

Isaac laughed, the wine in his cup sparkling.

Anata nodded.

"What can I do?"

"Do you have any plans to recapture the Egyptian province?"

Upon hearing this, Isaac spat out a mouthful of wine.

"If I had that kind of power, why would I be playing house with you in Africa? I'd go and fight Mehmed II head-on!"

Isaac knew very well that he had won the war in Cyrenaica by luck and that the Mamluks had not lost their elite troops.

This battle had only weakened the Sultan and the Vizier Ashraf, occupied the Mamluk border areas, and captured a fortress capable of withstanding a Mamluk army assault.

From the perspective of later generations, there were many reasons for the decline of the Mamluks: the Black Death, poor inheritance laws, the decline of the Black Sea slave trade, and constant internal strife.

But there was only one reason for their downfall. Portugal had opened a new sea route to the Indian Ocean, which had fundamentally uprooted the Mamluks' greatest source of trade profits.

"I don't have any such plans for now."

Isaac wiped the corner of his mouth.

If they could establish trade routes in the future, perhaps they could try, but for now, it would be fortunate enough to hold their ground.

Anata was silent for a moment.

"However, I am very willing to accept Coptic refugees. They will have the same status as the local Coptic church on my land."

"Thank you for your kindness."

Anata nodded.

Everyone knew that it was difficult for Coptic Christians living in Egypt to leave under Muslim control, let alone cross the ocean to Cyrenaica.

But it was still a thought, wasn't it?

Isaac turned his gaze to the last person.

"Your Highness, perhaps Captain Fidell has mentioned me to you. I am Pirni from Adana."

...

"Isaac Palaiologo, are you willing to protect with your life the power God has given you, and to defend your honor and responsibilities?"

"I am."

"Are you willing to treat your subjects and your fellow brothers well?"

"I am."

"Are you willing to use the sword God has given you to purge the heretics of their blasphemy?"

"I am."

In the cathedral, which had been converted from a mosque, Cardinal Isidore presided over Isaac's coronation ceremony in Bilinchi City.

Dressed in a purple ceremonial gown typical of the Eastern Roman Empire, Isaac held a jewel-encrusted sword.

The young man's muscular physique was draped in a purple cloak, giving him an air of elegance and height.

After the oath had been completed, Cardinal Isidore picked up the blessed crown.

"I accept this crown from God and now entrust it to you. It is the symbol of the Kingdom and King of Cyrene."

A crown of thorns encrusted with gold was placed firmly on Isaac's head.

The young man raised his head and his sword and smiled slightly.

"Long live Your Majesty!"

Count Mikhail, the leader of the vassals, knelt and allowed Isaac to place the sword on his shoulder.

This was the allegiance ceremony.

Next, each of Isaac's vassals pledged their allegiance to him, after which he acknowledged their ownership of their lands and those of their families.

After the vassals, the foreign guests stepped forward to congratulate Isaac on his coronation.

This affirmed the legitimacy of the monarchy and the divine right of kings.

From that day forward, in the presence of the Pope and the nobles, the crown of Cyrenaica belonged to the Palaiologos family, the descendants of Isaac...

...

Meanwhile, on the Mediterranean Sea, a large paddle-sailed warship cut through the waves.

Behind it were several transport ships.

The warship flew the Saint George's Cross flag of the Republic of Genoa and had a statue of a griffin, Genoa's symbol, at the bow.

"First mate, ahead is Birken, the capital of the newly established Kingdom of Cyrene."

"Boatswain, keep an eye on the prisoners. Don't mess up at the crucial moment."

"Yes!"

The first mate slowly walked back to the navigation room. Seeing that there was no one around, he pulled out a bottle of wine and took a swig.

"I have no idea what's got into them. They even want the prisoners."

The first mate complained.

They had been ordered by the Doge of Genoa to escort a group of captured pirates to Bilinchi.

Once in Ceranica, these old sailors would be rehired, with the older ones becoming instructors and the younger ones returning to piracy and raiding the fleets of infidels.

"There are still quite a few skilled men among them, and some are experts in amphibious warfare."

The captain suddenly spoke up, startling the first mate.

The first mate sheepishly handed the wine bottle to the captain.

"By the way, I remember that one of the prisoners volunteered. Is that right?"

The captain nodded.

"He heard that it was a holy war against the heathens, and he was so excited that he persuaded many of the other prisoners to follow him."

"He is a good sailor, skilled in sea and land command, and he has a great personality."

"There are people like that?"

The first mate was slightly surprised.

"What's his name?"

"It's hard to pronounce."

The captain frowned, pulled out the roster, and scanned the names.

"Giovanni Giustinian."

There is no reliable information about Giustinian's life before he volunteered to fight against the Ottomans in Constantinople. There are many different accounts, and this is just one of them.

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