kingdom of nations

Chapter 225 Portia (Two chapters combined)

Under Natia's gaze, Cesar's finger paused slightly over a name, but did not press it.

“If possible,” he said, “sister, please make arrangements for me to speak with this lady before making a final decision.”

These three noble ladies, who had already arrived in Cyprus, came from different backgrounds but shared the same goal. For this reason, aside from welcoming them in public and exchanging greetings at banquets, César had no private contact with them.

However, Natia still heard some things about these noble ladies from other people. There were certainly some distorted and exaggerated things, but there were also some true parts.

Of the three candidates, neither the Byzantine princess nor the child of the Pope of the Roman Catholic Church was particularly appealing; the former was insidious, and the latter arrogant.

But speaking of the Venetian Doge's niece, aside from the difference in their social status, this noblewoman seemed unsuitable to be a wife, especially since the man was a Crusader knight who would likely be fighting abroad with their king for a long and frequent period.

She hesitated, unsure whether she should tell her younger brother about these unpleasant rumors.

Portia, the niece of the Doge of Venice, did not have a good reputation. Although she came from the illustrious Dandolo family, her uncle was the Doge of Venice, and her grandfather was the most powerful and influential member of the Venetian Ten, Enrico Dandolo doted on this granddaughter so much that he spoiled her excessively. From childhood, she was not a docile lady, but often mingled with boys, running, boating, swimming in the canals, and playing simulated war games with them in the narrow streets of Venice.

If these were merely the whims and impulsiveness of a child, then it was truly baffling that as she grew older, she still refused to stay indoors and frequently appeared in public at the stock exchange, market, and parliament—places that should only be for men. Not to mention that a few years ago, she even went so far as to disguise herself as a man and attempt to infiltrate the University of Bologna and the church.

Infiltrating the university could be explained by the possibility that she might have a lover. But the church—women are certainly allowed to go to church for Mass or confession—but Portia went to the church where her brothers were holding their "choice ceremony," nearly ruining her brother and several cousins. If Dandolo hadn't appeased the parents' anger with a merchant ship laden with goods, she might have been burned at the stake as a witch.

Her being sent to Cyprus was not what every Venetian wanted. Apart from her uncle (who was the woman he was closest to by blood besides his wife and daughter), it was more the wish of her grandfather, Dandolo.

In most people's eyes, Dandolo is a senile old man, but they are no match for the combined efforts of Dandolo and the governor. Therefore, Portia evokes two peculiar emotional attachments—they both hope that the marriage will succeed and hope that it will not.

But this is not surprising. The Venetians had lost all their privileges in the Byzantine Empire. In other words, their original trade routes, outposts, warehouses, and networks had all vanished, which filled the Venetians with hatred for the Byzantine Empire, especially after Manuel I divided what originally belonged to them among the Genoese and Pisans.

They were eager to find a foothold and a new business center, and Cyprus was their last resort. This marriage was inevitable, but in the process, they still could not control their greed and selfishness.

During this time, Natia often thought of a story that Cesar had once told her in his spare time.

A scorpion wanted to cross a pond, but it couldn't swim, so it asked a frog to carry it across.

The frog said, "Your tail has poisonous barbs. If I carry you on my back, what will you do if I give you a stab?"

The scorpion said, "If that's the case, I'll sink into the water too. It would be harmful to you and also to me. I won't do that."

The frog agreed to the scorpion's request, but when they reached the middle of the pond, the scorpion still stung the frog. As the frog sank into the water in excruciating pain, it cried out: "Don't you know that this will also bring you to your doom?"

The scorpion said: I know, but I can't control my nature.

The foolish things the Venetians did before were probably driven by their nature.

César wanted to meet the candidate for wife whom the Venetian had recommended, and also to see if this woman was also a "Venetian".

------

The governor's palace is vast, with hundreds of rooms, so accommodating three noble ladies and ensuring they wouldn't "encounter" each other unless they intended to do so would not be difficult.

Portia, the niece of the Doge of Venice, lived in the square tower at the southernmost end of the Doge's Palace, which was also known as the Rose Garden. As the name suggests, this small building was almost completely submerged in white, pink, and deep red roses. Although roses are not as fragrant or large as roses, when thousands of them gather together, they are still breathtakingly beautiful.

In the crimson glow of the setting sun, a beautifully dressed young woman sat on a stone bench almost entirely hidden by roses. A thick book rested on her lap, but it wasn't a scripture; judging from the cover, it was a collection of love poems. She read it aloud, softly reciting the verses.

I like you, but you don't like me.

I like you, but your heart is hard, like a rock.

Ah, my beloved,

If you are a stone, then I am the tragic Sisyphus. (Note 1: See the author's note)

The scene was undoubtedly beautiful, but César, who parted the flower branches and walked into it, felt a sense of unease.

This incongruity also stems from Portia's attire today.

At the banquet that welcomed her, Portia still showed some Venetian influences.

But all of that has vanished today. She is dressed exactly like a traditional Byzantine woman, wearing a heavy, jeweled crown, beneath which is a white linen headscarf that reaches all the way to her shoulders, covering her hair completely, with the lower part of it covering her chest.

She was dressed not only formally in a loose-fitting robe that had no curves whatsoever, but also in a sleeveless coat with heavy embroidery over the robe, and over that, a deep red velvet cloak, which was fastened with a large gold brooch.

When she was seated, César could not see her shoes. But when she stood up to bow, César noticed that she had changed her platform shoes for leather sandals.

“Please have a seat, Ms. Portia.”

César sat down on the other stone bench facing her, and Portia rose to bow to him, forgetting the book, which fell straight to the ground from her lap.

César reached out and picked it up. It was no different from his usual poetry collections—a handwritten copy with a gold-edged cover and vibrant illustrations, each page as exquisite as a painting, with cut ribbons used as bookmarks inside.

The ribbon slipped from the page, and as César put the bookmark back in, he casually asked, "Which page are you on?"

He hadn't heard Portia's reply and was wondering why, when Portia answered, "Page 52."

César turned to page fifty-two, but his hand paused as he tucked the ribbon inside.

For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating—what he was seeing was not some beautiful poem, but one of the legal books that, whether now or hundreds of years later, would still make countless students scratch their heads and have splitting headaches—the Justinian Code.

But what he had just heard Portia recite was indeed a love poem.

Is this some kind of peculiar hobby or skill? He looked up at Portia, whose hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white, appearing very tense yet resolute. She sat motionless on the stone bench, like a prisoner about to be judged. "Yes, this is the book I'm reading, but I have to pretend. Because they believe a woman shouldn't learn things that are only for men."

As she spoke, she kept her eyes fixed on César. This method is undoubtedly quite effective when one wants to know someone's true inner thoughts; few people can control their expressions in such a short time, and their true feelings will be revealed without concealment in that instant.

Fortunately, all she saw was doubt; there was little mockery or disgust.

This is what men who knew she also wanted to study law often saw.

"I think... your sister arranged this meeting. Does this mean you have finally chosen the Venetians as your ally?"

Although she was always audacious, Portia deliberately avoided the word "engagement" here. When Cesar asked to meet her, she did not think that Cesar was a lustful villain who wanted to take advantage of her. Therefore, it could only be explained that while choosing an ally, he also paid enough attention to his other half in the marriage—him wife.

If he looked down on and despised women like other men, he wouldn't need to care what kind of person Portia was. After all, once the marriage contract was signed and the ceremony was completed, he could have her bear a few more children, and that woman would have fulfilled all her obligations. Then Cesar could simply forget about her.

But he was still willing to see her and talk to her. Does this prove that the rumors about his respect, understanding and support for women were not unfounded?

Although some might ridicule him for lacking perseverance, being overly sentimental, and being more suited to being a decadent "darling" in the arms of a womanizer.

But for Portia, this was an opportunity.

"Do you see the clothes I'm wearing?"

Cesar nodded.

“This is not what I wanted.” Portia pressed her hand to her chest, trying to keep her tone steady and her voice clear.

"You should know that the Republic of Venice is in a very bad situation right now, but even at this point, they have not stopped fighting for power."

"I know."

"It's not just in Venice; they're doing the same thing here. They're a bunch of short-sighted scoundrels."

Portia blushed as she spoke, not out of shyness, but out of indignation and disappointment towards the Venetians. She knew that the Venetians, believing victory was assured, had intentionally reduced her dowry—in fact, it wasn't really her dowry, but rather a price the Venetians had to pay in this transaction. When everything was going smoothly, their merchant nature was laid bare, like a scorpion. Although they knew they shouldn't, they still wanted to take advantage of the situation to lower Portia's dowry—which, for them, meant reducing costs.

But when the Pope's niece arrived, they immediately panicked.

Venice holds a rather unique political and religious status.

As is well known, the ancestors of the Venetians were citizens of the Eastern Roman Empire. They originally lived on the rich and safe Veneto Plain, but when the barbarians came, they were driven by the Ostrogoths to the Venetian region, where conditions were harsh, the land was barren, or rather, there was no land at all, only some scattered islands, swamps and lagoons.

Although they claimed to be remnants of the Byzantine Empire, they were in reality just a group of pitiful people who had been driven from their original territories and were struggling to survive. The fact that they were able to escape the plunder of the Ostrogothic Kingdom and later the Frankish Kingdom twice, and were able to hide in Venice and eke out a living, was only because the region was too terrible to be worth the effort of kings and lords to conquer.

However, this situation could not continue indefinitely. After all, the Venetians could not rely solely on fishing for a living; their primary source of income was trade. Therefore, after the eighth century, although they were nominally still part of the Byzantine Empire, they had in fact become an autonomous region. They maintained a friendly master-vassal relationship with the Byzantine Empire while simultaneously converting to the Roman Catholic Church and becoming Christians. This was no longer just wavering between two sides, but rather a situation of yin and yang.

Now that they have lost the tolerance of the Byzantine Empire, their position has become unstable.

Within the Venetian council, there were originally two factions: one favoring France and the other favoring Rome.

"So, is your uncle Qingfa or Qingluo?"

“My uncle, Chinlo, has always considered himself the heir to Rome and often holds orthodox church ceremonies at home, but my grandfather, Dandolo, was pro-French. The people who negotiated with you before were all my uncle’s men,” Portia said meaningfully. “Even after being expelled and harmed by the emperor, they still harbor illusions about him.”

While they wouldn't necessarily betray the Venetians and side with the emperor, they would certainly prefer to be ruled by an Eastern Roman. They would be overjoyed if you were willing to switch allegiance, convert to the orthodox church, and rule Cyprus as an absolute monarch of the Byzantine Empire, rather than as a crusader.

But clearly, you are not; you allow the three major knightly orders to be stationed in Cyprus.

Although you did not directly bestow the land upon them, but rather leased it, to them it was a betrayal. They believed you had not only betrayed your first wife, Anna, the Byzantine princess, but also the Emperor of Constantinople.

They probably think they are more qualified to rule this place than you, which is why they did such a stupid thing.

Of course, part of the reason is because of me. They want to find someone else, someone who might bring a larger dowry, perhaps not just thirty ships. Do you want that?

"What kind of wife do they want to give me?"

"She would be very docile and gentle, conforming to doctrine and traditional values. She wouldn't even read love poems. The only things he would hold in his hands besides scriptures would be needlework. She would stay in her room, occasionally looking out the window, bearing your children and managing the household without complaint."

"And what about you? Can't you?"

“I can’t, I’ve thought about it too—you have a very good reputation among noble ladies, and I’ve heard that you’ve always been chaste in the castle, never having a secret rendezvous with maids or peasant women, never having sought pleasure with prostitutes, and never having done anything disgusting that would shame God.”

You are completely different from any of the men I have ever seen, heard of, or encountered before. Several of my cousins ​​went to brothels with their uncles when they were only fourteen years old, and they viewed women like commodities. If this commodity suddenly started talking and walking on its own, they would be terrified, thinking she was possessed by a demon.

For example, I have never been a conventional girl.

But if you ask me what sin I've committed…” Portia smiled: “I guess it's that I did something only men do—they don't like me the way I am, and they assume you don't like me either.”

That's why I was deliberately dressed up like this, hoping that my appearance and demeanor would deceive you, make you make an irrational judgment, or soothe your anger that they had previously provoked.

Do they think I would like...this kind of woman?

"This is because of your first wife, Anna, the Byzantine princess, and what you have done for her, even to the point that you have flown to faraway England."

"Of course they would assume you would like a woman like Anna, who gave you all of Cyprus. They would assume without a second thought that she must be a gentle, submissive, and devoted woman to her husband—they plucked my eyebrows," she said, pointing to her brow bone. Sure enough, Cesar remembered that her eyebrows weren't like this before. Although they were also thin and long, she must have had eyebrows back then.

“My eyebrows were originally thick and dark, just like a man’s. But they said that was a symbol of lewdness and baseness. I’ve already trimmed them to be very thin, but they still think I should pluck them all out so that my forehead looks round and big, like a goose egg, in order to be attractive.”

Applying makeup isn't something a proper woman should do. But they wanted me to have a pale complexion and rosy lips, so they starved me for several meals. My current paleness isn't my natural skin tone; it's because I'm so hungry I can barely stand. And my lips—they said I should bite them tightly and release them the moment they saw me, so I'd have a natural, healthy red. But I think they're probably turning bluish now.”

Cesar couldn't tell whether he found it funny or pitying. He looked at the other person's lips, which did remind him of those beggars who had been starving for a long time. He thought for a moment, then took out a transparent object from his pocket. It felt like a stone, but Portia thought the other person wouldn't do something so childish and wicked. She took it and put it in her mouth, only to be surprised to find that it was actually candy.

With calorie intake, she finally felt much better.

So she asked, "May I take off my headscarf?"

"If you'd like, of course you can."

Portia immediately raised her hand, readily pulled off her headscarf, removed the hairpin securing her crown, and moved the heavy object off her head. As soon as it was removed, her shoulders relaxed and her back straightened.

"I'm so much more comfortable now, I almost feel like I'm Atlas carrying the Earth."

This analogy made César chuckle. Indeed, women at that time rarely showed their hair. Simply wearing a headscarf was one thing. But as noblewomen, they would inevitably wear jeweled crowns.
Although the base of this headdress was made of felt wool, it must have been covered with heavy embroidery and a dazzling array of jewels, making it obviously very valuable and extremely heavy. He suspected that its weight was about the same as his helmet, but knights only needed to wear helmets when going into battle, while these noble ladies had to wear those things all the time.

Then there were the chinen hats favored by Frankish noblewomen. These were made tall, pointed, and long, sometimes with two horns, sometimes spiraled, and with fine veils hanging from the tips. These hats were certainly beautiful, possessing a unique charm. But besides their weight, their odd shape did indeed greatly hinder their movement—some slightly taller women, once wearing such hats, had to bow and bend over when entering or exiting small doorways, and when greeting each other, they had to be careful not to lean forward too far, otherwise their hats would bump into each other.

With Cesar's permission, Portia grew even bolder. She even unfastened the brooch and threw the heavy cloak onto the stone bench, taking a deep breath. "Too bad I can't take this off." She pointed to her chest, which was tightly covered by a collarless coat like a shield, with only part of her neck visible.

“I never wore clothes like this when I was in Venice. I don’t know if you’ve seen them here—I mean on ordinary women…”

"Are you referring to those clothes with a low neckline?"

“Yes, the kind of dress that exposes part of the chest,” Portia said. “It’s become fashionable among the noble ladies of Venice. When they enter a church, there are even two priests who constantly remind them to pull up their shawls or headscarves to cover their chests.”

“I’ve seen it,” Cesar said calmly. In fact, it was completely different from what people imagined. Although women of this era were subject to great restrictions and control, their clothing had gradually changed from the previous indistinguishable, heavy, and rigid styles to light and form-fitting garments, with their chests gradually becoming more exposed. But in Cesar’s view, it wasn’t excessive. Modern women only pulled their necklines down to reveal their collarbones, though this inevitably attracted the attention of some people, making them distracted. Among them were knights and priests, which was why the church angrily demanded that they cover their chests.

But this is not the women's fault.

“If you marry me, you can dress however you like,” Cesar thought for a moment and then cautiously added, “just don’t streak.”

Portia took a moment to understand what streaking meant. Then, she burst into uncontrollable laughter, before wiping away tears and asking, "So, it's okay if I don't like needlework?"

"I thought I could at least afford to hire some tailors and maids."

"May I ride a horse?"

"Yes, a Crusader's wife should be a skilled rider."

"Can I learn how to use swords, bows, and even fight like a man?"

“That’s exactly what I need you to do.” Cesar doesn’t need a wife who goes to the battlefield, but while she’s managing the castle for him, she should at least have some understanding of how knights fight so that she can make timely and effective judgments.

"So can I still continue studying? I mean law, history, math, not some damn love poetry."

"Of course. If you need a teacher, I can help you find one."

"So what do I have to give in return?"

“Loyalty, and reciprocal love,” César said earnestly. Although he knew that his future marriages would almost always be political, he never considered giving up on finding a like-minded partner.

If Anna hadn't suffered that fate, he would have allowed her to live freely and happily by his side. Perhaps, over time, their initial friendship and mutual respect would have gradually transformed into a deep, albeit not passionate, love.

But Anna's untimely death brought all of this to an abrupt end.

He sealed away the gift that was meant for her, keeping it somewhere no one knew. Now he prepared a gift for his second wife, hoping she would accept it gladly.

Portia's eyes lit up. "Can you swear an oath?"

As soon as Cesar raised his hand, Portia grasped it. "I believe you," she smiled, "so I should do something to make you believe me too."

(End of this chapter)