The emperor laughed heartily. “What an ingenious little witch you are, little sister! A mind such as yours belongs either back in the Golden Age of Athens or somewhere in the future.”
“Perhaps I was there, and perhaps I shall incarnate again in a more enlightened age. But for now I am here, and as I must make my peace with this time, it must make its peace with me.”
John Paleaologi smiled. “I will provide you with everything you need, Thea. I am happy you came to me. First, I expect you will want to bathe. I will have the servants arrange for more suitable clothing for you, my dear.”
“Lord, yes! Bless your thoughtfulness, John.”
The emperor stood and, taking Theadora’s hand, smiled. “Let’s see if we can avoid Helena completely. You look too exhausted to cope with her now.
PART III
Chapter Thirteen
Theadora settled quietly into a large apartment in the palace. True to his word, the emperor kept his wife from her younger sister for more than a week while Theadora ate and slept, regaining her strength and her peace of mind.
Ten days after her return to the city the emperor held a banquet and she was invited. She entered the great dining hall of the Blanchernae Palace to the warm welcome of people she had not seen since her childhood and, in most cases, barely remembered. It seemed that everyone was happy to see her. She was led to the main table where the emperor and empress awaited her. Smiling, Helena kissed her younger sister on both cheeks, murmuring in her ear, “Bitch! If you have put us in danger I will kill you!” Then the empress proclaimed loudly, “Thanks be to God, dear sister, for your safe return from the infidel!”
“Thanks be to God,” came the echoing reply from all those in the hall.
Theadora was seated on her brother-in-law’s left. The Byzantine nobles in the hall were forced to agree that they had never seen such beauty as the two sisters possessed between them. This was grudgingly conceded by their wives.
The empress was gowned in white silk heavily embroidered with gold and silver thread, turquoises, pearls, and pink diamonds sewn into exquisite floral designs upon the material. With her rose and white complexion, sky-blue eyes, and shining golden hair topped by a gilt crown, Helena was at the height of her beauty.
In striking contrast, but no less lovely, Theadora wore a simple pale-green silk gown that molded her high breasts and then fell away. The flowing sleeves of the gown were embroidered slightly at the edges in gold thread. There was a faint, very becoming flush to her creamy gardenia skin, and her amethyst eyes sparkled beneath their dark, gold-tipped lashes. Her shining dark hair was braided and looped about the sides of her face and held by golden cauls.
John Paleaologi leaned over and said quietly to Theadora, “I have never seen you look lovelier, my dear sister. You will simply captivate our guest of honor when he sets eyes on you. I have arranged that he sit next to you.”
“Are you trying to marry me off so soon?” she teased him.
“Would you not like to remarry, my dear?”
She was silent, and he saw the sadness in her lovely eyes.
“You love Murad, don’t you, Theadora? No, no, you need say nothing. Your eyes tell me all. Perhaps marriage to a good man and having several children would ease your pain.”
“Who is this man you would have me meet, John?”
“The new lord of Mesembria.”
“And he has no wife?”
“He had one in his youth, but she died and he never married again. He was not Mesembria’s lord then. In fact, that he is its lord today is a bitter twist of fate for him. He was a third son and when his father died his eldest brother inherited. He ruled well for us. Unfortunately, the elder brother had no sons. So his heir was the next brother. That man had two boys. Several months ago the palace in Mesembria caught fire and burned to the ground. The entire ruling family perished. Only this third brother, who lived in another city, was left alive. He was recalled, confirmed, and crowned despot of Mesembria. Though he has several illegitimate sons, he has no legal heir. So he must marry.”
“And you think to match me with him?”
“If it pleases you. Understand, my dear, that I will not force you to
“He sounds unbearable and quite the peacock. If he avoids women, perhaps they are not to his taste. Are you sure he is a real man?”
John chuckled. “I am sure he is a real man, Thea, but I will allow you to judge for yourself. Here he is now.”
“Alexander, lord of Mesembria,” intoned the majordomo.
Theadora looked to the end of the hall and gasped, feeling as if she had been struck. The man striding toward them was the pirate she had known as Alexander the Great. Her mind frantically sought to assemble the few facts she recalled about him. He had told her he was the youngest son of a Greek noble, and his speech, taste and manners had certainly attested to that. But he had never named his father, and it had never occurred to her to ask him.
He bowed, flourishing his long cape elegantly as he reached the high table. He was tanned, his hair bleached to its usual golden color. His eyes were still pure aquamarine. She could hear the audible sighs from the other women and saw her own sister quickly assess the newcomer with speculative, lust-filled eyes.
“Come, Alexander,” welcomed the emperor, “join us. We have seated you next to our beloved sister, Theadora.”
A beaming John made the introductions and then left them to become acquainted. She was silent, and Alexander said softly, “Are you not glad to see me, beauty?”
“Does Helena know who you are-were?”
“No, beauty. No one does, not even your revered brother-in-law. I must rely on you to keep my secret. Will you-for old times’ sake?”
A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “I never thought I would see you again,” she said.
He chuckled. “Yet here I am, turning up like a bad copperpiece. And what is worse,
She blushed. “You know about that?”
He did not tell her that it had been his idea, and that he had approached the emperor about it first. “The emperor and I have discussed it, but he tells me it must be your decision.” He took her hand beneath the table, and his was warm and strong. “Do you think you could be my wife, beauty?”
Her heart quickened. “Do not hurry me, my lord Alexander. I know nothing really of you.”
“What would you know? My father was Theodore, despot of Mesembria. My mother was Sara Comnenus, a princess of Trebizond. I had two older brothers, Basil and Constantine. My mother has been dead for several years, my father nearly two years, and a fire in Mesembria’s palace several months ago left me bereft of family-and an
