kingdom of nations

Chapter 220 The Banquet (Part 1)

“This is not a Byzantine-style banquet; it is Frankish or Latin,” said a Cypriot nobleman.

His friend immediately nudged him with his elbow, signaling him to stop talking. Although it was just a neutral statement, people in Cyprus still can't be sure whether a planned, calm cleansing or an indiscriminate slaughter would bring more fear.

If it were merely a hungry lion, they could simply throw him delicious meat until his belly was bulging and he left satisfied. But if the other party were a wise giant wolf, he might not kill all the livestock and scatter their entrails everywhere, but would instead consider this place his territory. He wouldn't be content with merely ruling over the wild beasts and cattle; he wanted all living beings to submit to him.

Sometimes Cypriots must admit that their new lord is not one who enjoys torturing others—whether physically or spiritually. When receiving officials, nobles, or even merchants, he never shouts or curses, and rarely gets angry. Even in his rage, he does not resort to cruel tortures such as limb-pulling, pear-shaped torture, or wheel torture. Yet, if you say he is merciful, he is rarely moved by humble words, fervent flattery, or painful pleas. His green eyes seem to see into people's hearts, and his rose-like lips can only deliver cold judgments.

At this point, Cypriots can't help but curse the Byzantine emperor, who was separated from them by a strait. If it weren't for his cowardice and selfishness, and the fact that he had such a "proud" son as his eldest son Alexius, the Cypriots should have had a much more lenient environment, given the Crusader knight's actions in Bethlehem.

However, complaining at this point would be futile. After all, there were plenty of people willing to follow the eldest prince, and the vast majority of people decided to stand by and watch. Only a few families did not hesitate to side with their new master, whether out of helplessness or for their own selfish reasons. In this gamble, they won big.

The Cypriot nobleman who had just expressed slight discontent was a former neutral party, and his family was also purged. As those in the know, his family and several other important family members were severely punished, but other members were allowed to retain their original assets and residences after paying fines.

After being reminded by his friend, the man fell silent.

It's impossible for them to feel any gratitude towards Cesar for this. But similarly, they wouldn't harbor much resentment either. After all, Cesar was quite lenient, considering that back then, who did what and how to deal with it were entirely up to him. If he declared someone or a family guilty, it meant he could inherit all the wealth that family had accumulated over centuries.

If it were anyone else, even the eldest prince Alexius, he would not hesitate to take action—no one would think that gold and silk were too much, especially for those ambitious people.

A servant came over and led them to their seats.

Just as the nobleman had complained earlier, the grand banquet was entirely Frankish or, more broadly, Latin in style.

In short, the guests of honor used long tables rather than round tables, and as with banquets in the Byzantine Empire, important guests would sit as close as possible to the host. However, they did not sit alone in a small niche; several people would sit around a table, and they were seated in the hall like the other guests, only the table settings were slightly different.

The long table for important guests was covered with brightly colored brocade instead of ordinary white linen, and set with gold plates and gold cups, while others could only use silver tableware.

As for the more expensive glass and ivory utensils, they could only be found on the master's long table.

"Little brother, are you all better?"

Natia called out loudly. She had been waiting in the side hall for a long time, and when she saw Cesar walking out of the council chamber next door, she couldn't help but frown slightly. Today was the first banquet after Cesar's mourning period ended. In Natia's opinion, her brother should have been dressed up in a splendid and dazzling manner long ago.

His splendid attire would proclaim to the world that he had overcome the pain and gloom of his wife's passing and was ready to joyfully welcome the next new bride—but Cesar's attire was almost identical to before, except that he had replaced the silver cross around his neck with a gold one. The cross was quite simple, without any jewels, icons, or patterns.

He wore a black belted coat, with white sleeves peeking out from under it. He wasn't even wearing a crown, neither the royal crown nor the count's crown he had worn before. The only thing he could be considered expensive was the Damascus scimitar hanging at his waist, but even the scabbard was just plain black cowhide, and the metal parts were dark brass.

Natia, however, remembered her place. Although Cesar loved her dearly, she was ultimately Cesar's sister, not his mother or any other elder, so she simply straightened Cesar's collar without saying a word.

Cesar, however, had already seen through her thoughts and smiled as he took his sister's hand, saying, "You're all I need."

Natia was indeed dressed exceptionally formally and perfectly today. Although the banquet was Latin, her attire was Byzantine—that is, she was wearing purple.

When she dressed as a Frankish woman, people could easily mistake her for other noble ladies in the castle, but when she wore purple, adorned with pearls in her clothes and jewelry, and wore a crown inlaid with rubies and sapphires, people would immediately recall her other identity.

Although she received this identity from her brother Cesare, who in turn received it from Princess Anna of the Byzantine Empire, there is no doubt that she would still be qualified even if she went to Constantinople.

The awe-inspiring presence that a princess and a count's daughter can evoke is entirely different.

At least when they sat down together at the long table, the noblewoman, who was said to be the niece of the Byzantine emperor, hesitated for a moment before finally lowering her dignified knees. Although they did not touch the ground, it meant that she acknowledged that, at this time and in this place, Natia's status was more noble than hers.

On the other side, the Venetian Doge's niece was much more submissive and respectful, almost prostrating herself on the ground—perhaps because Cesare held Natia's hand the whole time. Only after everyone in the hall bowed and curtsied to them did he sit down with Natia.

To welcome these two distinguished guests, the long table, used by the hosts, occupied almost half the length of the hall. Behind Cesare and Nathia, a magnificent canopy was erected, with Cesare's banners hanging on either side—the banners were no longer the original crimson ones, but now bore only the Alassane cross in one corner. When Cesare first used this banner and coat of arms, he was merely a squire to Baldwin and a knight of Bethlehem, but after inheriting the title of Earl of Edessa and becoming the son-in-law of the Byzantine Empire, his coat of arms underwent a significant change.

The flag remained crimson, topped with two crossed swords and below a crown. Beneath the crown was a shield, divided into two parts: one side was white with a yellow Allazar cross on top—because he was also a member of the Allazar Kingdom; the other side was blue with a white crescent and star representing the Virgin Mary, the symbol of the Byzantine Empire.

This shield symbolizes how his marriage to Anna, the princess of the Byzantine Empire, brought the two young people and their respective families together.

Below are ribbons and a proverb, which reads "Be with the Lord".

Behind the two noble ladies, each hung a crescent flag belonging to the Byzantine Empire and the flag of the Venetian Republic—the Lion of St. Mark.

Cesar sat undoubtedly in the center of the main table, with his sister Natia to his right and the Archbishop of Cyprus to his left. The Byzantine princess sat next to Natia, and the niece of the Doge of Venice sat next to the Archbishop of Cyprus. This arrangement allowed Natia to observe these two noble ladies who might become her siblings without making a sound.

He first went to see the Doge of Venice's niece. The Doge of Venice also had a daughter of marriageable age, but he still sent his niece instead. It wasn't because the marriage wasn't worth sacrificing a daughter for, but because his niece was much prettier than his daughter, though such beauty might not be acceptable to everyone.

The girl had jet-black eyebrows, bright, round eyes, and full lips that were so vibrant that one might suspect she was using rouge reserved for courtesans. Moreover, judging from her attire, although she wore a tall gauze hat, a long silk shirt, and a sleeveless, waist-cinching robe with a V-neck, just like other noble ladies, the robe had some rather clever details.

Modern Christian women, whether in Constantinople or Paris, wear robes that are either loose or cinched at the waist with a belt. However, she added thin, perforated cords to the sides of her robes. In this way, these cords, which extend from the armpits to the hips, could be tightened to perfectly outline her alluring curves.

Moreover, her shoes were different from those of the women here; she wore thick-soled shoes. It is said that the Venice area was originally a muddy swamp, and even though it has now become a prosperous place, the streets are still often wet, and they often have to rely on waterways.

Therefore, Venetians would thicken the soles of their shoes to prevent them from getting wet in the mud. Wearing such shoes should make a person more clumsy and ridiculous, but this noble lady was able to wear them with grace and charm.

Natia wasn't sure if she was the type her brother would like—not every man would like a dignified and devout woman, or rather, she always felt that her brother was a bit too dull. Perhaps a lively girl could bring more color to his life that should belong to a young person.

She couldn't help but look at her brother, to see if César was watching her.

But no, Cesar was looking at the noblewoman from the Byzantine Empire, but only for a glance before coldly turning away. Natia didn't quite understand, while Archbishop Cyprus beside her was secretly groaning. Of course, he didn't dare to say it aloud.

However, he really had a hard time understanding what the emperor of the Byzantine Empire, or the people around him, were thinking.
The noblewoman they sent bore a striking resemblance to the deceased Princess Anna, after all, they shared the same father—but what a strange sight! Did they really think Cesar's respect and remembrance of Anna stemmed from her beautiful face?

Frankly speaking, the archbishop felt that if their new lord was truly the kind of person who would be swayed by beauty, he would rather look at his own face more closely.

“This noble lady certainly won’t get anywhere here, but if the envoy who came with her can offer a price that will entice us, the outcome is hard to say,” Walter said enthusiastically to Joeffroy beside him.

"I do know what price the Venetians offered. They promised that if Cesar was willing to marry their governor's niece, her dowry would be a fleet of ships, and the Venetians would also transfer some of their businesses to Cyprus, and the return they asked for was not much."

The Byzantine emperors once granted them a 10% tax break, reducing their tax rate to only 5%.

"Five percent? When did these Venetians become so humble?"

“Cyprus is new territory for them too,” Walter muttered. “Anyway, the bride and groom are so young. Once they’re married and have children, maybe they can raise the tax breaks from five percent to ten percent.”

And when this child with Venetian blood grows up, 15% or even 20% is not impossible.

“These Byzantines!” Geoffroy exclaimed. “The emperor is like this, and so are the Venetians. In any case, the people of the Byzantine Empire always think they are superior to us barbarians.”

Walter chuckled, his gaze unconsciously sweeping across the long table opposite him. A knight across from him raised his cup in a toast. Froe's expression was subtle. This was a knight from the Order of the Good Samaritans, and the relationship between the Templars and the Order of the Good Samaritans was not harmonious. Walter's eyes flashed, and he immediately recognized the other man's identity.

“Those are members of the Gerald family.”

(End of this chapter)