Betrothed to the Barbarian

by Carol Townend

  Unless... Could it be that he was irritated with her for asking that the date of their marriage be brought forward? No, she did not think that was it. He had agreed easily enough.

  One week—in one week’s time, we shall be married.

  Many matters had yet to be resolved. If they were not to make their main residence in his family holding of

  Larissa, where would they live? In the Boukoleon Palace? They could not stay in her apartment in the women’s quarters. A man in the women’s quarters would not be tolerated. Theodora stared at the dove splashing about in the fountain. She had only just arrived in her seaside apartment, but if the Emperor agreed to change their wedding date, she would soon be moving out.

  One thing was certain—she refused to join the Commander-in-Chief of the Tagmata in the barracks.

  * * *

  In his quarters in the barracks, Nikolaos stared blankly at the scribe. The man had been reading the letter he had composed to His Majesty and Nikolaos hadn’t heard a word. It was an important letter, asking that the marriage should be brought forward and if the request was granted, it would throw the Palace into some disarray. The tone must be

  exactly right.

  ‘My apologies, my mind was elsewhere. Please read it through again.’

  Why was it so hard to concentrate? As the scribe nodded and began re-reading the letter, Nikolaos found his mind wandering almost immediately. He had much to digest. Princess Theodora seemed convinced that Župan Djuradj was responsible for Peter of Rascia’s death. Murder, she had called it. And then Djuradj had apparently demanded her hand in marriage.

  Is there more that she is not telling me?

  Certainly it appeared that the poor woman had been

  bullied into hiding. That must be why she had taken so long to come home; that must be why she had resisted meeting Nikolaos for so long. It was possible she feared that he, too, would bully her.

  As her face swam into focus in his mind, Nikolaos felt a surge of possessiveness towards her. Prince Djuradj shall not have her. She is my princess. His Majesty had asked that Nikolaos uphold the arrangement that the previous emperor had made and Nikolaos had agreed. He had had his own reasons for agreeing. The sense of possessiveness was somewhat surprising.

  ‘She is beautiful,’ he muttered.

  It was only when the scribe looked up from the scroll that Nikolaos realised he had spoken out loud. ‘My lord? The letter is acceptable?’

  ‘Let me see.’ Taking the parchment, Nikolaos ran his eyes over it. ‘“If it is not too great an inconvenience, we ask that Your Majesty agree….”’ He read to the bottom of the scroll, to the place where he had mentioned Prince Djuradj’s marriage proposal to the Princess. ‘“...Your Majesty, Princess Theodora Doukaina has laboured under some distress concerning actions of the Župan of Zeta, whom she believes responsible for the death of her fiancé, the Župan of Rascia. I cannot say whether this is the truth. However, it has come to my attention that representatives of the Zetan prince have pursued Princess Theodora from Rascia. I personally have reason to know they are in the City, if not the Palace. Further, the Princess has confessed that following the death of the Prince of Rascia, she received a clandestine offer of marriage from the Zetan Prince.

  Prince Djuradj must know that our princesses are rarely given in marriage to foreign princes. Not only is his proposal an insult to the Empire, it is a blatant bid for power. Prince Djuradj wishes to extend his influence in Rascia; it is even possible he is planning to invade there. It seems likely that Prince Djuradj has convinced himself that marriage to the woman formerly betrothed to the Prince Peter would give him credibility in the eyes of the Rascian aristocracy, not to mention a spurious sense of legitimacy.

  The Princess and I have had a private conversation on this subject, and whilst I cannot believe the Zetan prince presents a real threat either to Your Majesty or the state, I shall naturally keep a close watch on any contact the Princess might make with him.

  Your Majesty, it is for these reasons that I would recommend that my marriage with Princess Theodora should take place as soon as possible. I remain, Your Majesty, your most loyal and obedient subject...”’ Hmm, that all seems in order. Hand me the quill.’

  Nikolaos signed the letter with a flourish. ‘Please take it to His Majesty without delay.’

  ‘My lord.’ The scribe bowed and went out.

  It was then that Nikolaos realised that the Princess’s question about his mother had pushed his cousin, Brother Leo, out of his mind. He had not been prepared to discuss his mother and had almost snapped at her. I had to leave before that happened. She is an Imperial princess, a blood relation of Empress Irene. I cannot lose my temper with an Imperial princess. There would be time to ask about Leo after their marriage.

  ‘My lord?’

  Elias had come in with the white, silver and gold dress uniform of the General of the Athanatoi Cavalry folded over his arm.

  ‘Is this the uniform you will wear at your wedding, my lord?’

  ‘I am undecided—why?’

  ‘Some braiding on the tunic has come loose, my lord.’

  ‘Have it repaired, I must be worthy of a princess, mustn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Elias went to kneel in front of Niko’s travelling chest, then began pulling out more uniforms, muttering under his breath about the need for certain generals to have more respect for their gear. Niko wondered what the Princess would think when she learned about his parentage, his real parentage.

  ‘Do you think you might wear the heavy breast armour, my lord?’ Elias said. ‘I seem to remember the gilding was scratched.’

  ‘Elias, stop obsessing over my uniform, I should like your counsel.’ In the past, Nikolaos had discussed many problems with his manservant and he respected his judgement.

  Elias leaned back on his heels. ‘My lord?’

  ‘It concerns my birth.’ Nikolaos felt uneasy, he was going to marry the Princess, but she had yet to learn of his illegitimate birth. Ought he to tell her before their marriage? Would the realisation that her husband was illegitimate weigh with her? ‘I know you have observed the coolness that has developed between me and my mother.’

  ‘Indeed, my lord, and it saddens me.’ Rising, Elias closed the travelling chest.

  Nikolaos fixed his whole attention on his manservant’s face, alert for the slightest change of expression, the slightest hint of shock at what he was about to say. ‘While she lay ill, my mother told me something touching on my birth. She told me—’

  ‘So that’s it,’ Elias said. ‘I wondered if it might be. Lady Verina has told you about your father, my lord, your blood father.’

  Nikolaos felt his mouth fall open. ‘You know? You know that Governor Gregorios was not my father?’

  ‘I have suspected this for many years, my lord.’

  ‘You have?’

  ‘I can see your mother in your features, but I have never been able to see Governor Gregorios. To be sure, you and the Governor both have brown eyes, but the resemblance is ephemeral, your eyes are much darker. And physically, my lord, you are larger and your nose—’

  ‘You always suspected.’ Nikolaos rubbed his face with his hands. He felt stunned, utterly stunned that Elias had long suspected that Governor Gregorios was not his father. ‘My mother is a grave disappointment, I was profoundly shocked.’

  Elias frowned. ‘My lord?’

  ‘My father—I am referring to Governor Gregorios—must have been devastated by my mother’s betrayal. He adored her. How could she betray him like that?’

  ‘Lady Verina and Governor Gregorios seemed very close,’ Elias agreed, rubbing the back of his neck.

  ‘So I thought, until my dear mother’s confession.’

  ‘Have you asked Lady Verina how it came about, my lord?’

  ‘I don’t want details! I have no wish to speak to her. She betrayed my father, she betrayed me.’

  Elias gave Nikolaos a look he had not seen fro
m his manservant in years. Disapproving. Disappointed. ‘We all make mistakes, my lord. You should speak to your mother.’

  ‘Don’t look so sour.’ Nikolaos raked his hair with his hand. ‘Elias, be honest—’

  ‘Aren’t I always?’

  ‘Yes, my friend, indeed you are,’ Nikolaos said drily. ‘Except that I thought I knew you, and now you tell me you have long suspected that I am not the son of Governor Gregorios. Tell me, have suspicions over my birth ever weighed with you?’

  ‘Not in the least.’

  ‘Do you know who my father is, my blood father?’

  ‘No, my lord. Didn’t Lady Verina give you his name?’

  ‘All she would say was that he had been born outside the Empire, she refused to enlarge. Elias, you have seen the Princess...do you think this would affect her acceptance of our marriage?’

  ‘I do not know the Princess well enough to comment, my lord, but I do not believe so, she has already been betrothed to a foreign prince.’

  ‘So my barbarian blood will not trouble her?’

  ‘How could it? Her previous fiancé was Rascian.’

  ‘He was the Župan, the Rascian prince—I am a mere general.’

  ‘You are Duke Nikolaos of Larissa,’ Elias said, standing very straight. There was no trace of disappointment in his gaze and the pride in his voice brought a reluctant smile to Nikolaos’s lips. ‘You have been brought up in the Empire; you are General of the Immortals, Commander-in-Chief of the Tagmata, the most trusted officer in the Emperor’s army; you—’

  Nikolaos made a chopping gesture with his hands. ‘Enough. Elias, I accept you do not believe my foreign blood will make the Princess shy away. One more question. What about my illegitimacy? Do you reckon she will baulk at that?’

  Elias looked steadily at him. ‘It’s true that many people are shocked by illegitimacy, but I do not believe the Princess will be one of them. However, it is as I have said, my lord—I do not know her. You have spoken to her. If you are in any doubt, my lord, why tell her? It is not common knowledge. Governor Gregorios was happy to accept you as his legitimate son. That is how the world sees you.’

  ‘I have yet to tell His Majesty, Elias. You are the only person in whom I have confided.’

  Elias bowed his head. ‘I am honoured by the trust you place in me, my lord. I shall say nothing of this to anyone.’

  Nikolaos gripped his manservant by the shoulder. ‘Thank you, Elias.’

  Elias bustled out of his quarters, grumbling about the scratched gilding on his heavy armour, and left Nikolaos to his thoughts. His conversation with Elias had gone some way to relieve him.

  My barbarian bloodlines alone will not shock the Princess; she was clearly more than fond of Prince Peter. But my illegitimacy... Much as I would prefer to make a clean breast of it before I make my marriage vows, I shall not mention that. Not yet.

  Later, if she sees my silence as duplicity, as a means of gaining legitimacy for my illicit birth...

  He sighed.

  I must be realistic. No marriage is perfect, we are both using each other. Princess Theodora needs protection from the Prince of Zeta; I want to strengthen my position at Court. It is not as though she is getting nothing out of the arrangement. I will protect her...provided she remains a loyal subject of His Majesty.

  At the back of his mind was a thought that Nikolaos did not care to examine. There were similarities between Župan Djuradj and himself. Both he and the Prince of Zeta had decided that marriage with Princess Theodora would improve their position in society. Holy hell, what was he thinking? Župan Djuradj was refractory and disloyal. Nikolaos refused even to consider the idea that there might be similarities in attitude between himself and a rebel princeling in faraway Zeta...

  Princess Theodora is mine.

  What had her life been like in Rascia? In an instant, Nikolaos could see those large brown eyes flashing fire at him. She had been furious when he had restrained her in the Fountain Court. He grinned—the combination of fire and hesitant innocence had been unexpectedly arousing. Had Prince Peter indulged her? It seemed likely. The presence of an Imperial princess at the Rascian Court would have been a great prize, he would not have wished to offend her.

  So, Princess Theodora was used to getting her own way, and a princess, particularly one who had been spoiled, was not going to be easy to control.

  God alone knew what freedoms she might have enjoyed in Rascia.

  Be that as it may, she was back in Constantinople and she was marrying him. He would woo her, he did not want a marriage poisoned by conflict. Yes, he would woo her, but he would also master her. There was no way that his wife would be permitted the freedoms Governor Gregorios had given his mother. Even if she was an Imperial princess.

  Chapter Seven

  Seven days and nights flew by in a flurry of activity and preparation.

  Martina was teething and fretful and far too noisy for a child who ought not to be drawing attention to herself. Theodora flung herself into soothing her, hoping that by doing so she would not have time to dwell on the difficulties involved in her forthcoming marriage, nor indeed on the disturbing incident Duke Nikolaos had mentioned taking place in the street behind the Hippodrome.

  She fought a losing battle. News that Boda had accosted the Duke in person had removed any lingering doubt that Župan Djuradj had several men in the City. That his men had warned the Duke off marrying her made her cold with dread. Had the Prince of Zeta discovered her deep secret?

  As the days passed and her wedding day drew nearer, Theodora found herself lost in a labyrinth of circling thoughts, caught up in spiral after spiral of worry. She could find no way out. When Martina wailed and went red in the face, it was a relief to take her in her arms and walk the length of the reception chamber and back, rocking and soothing for all she was worth. Keeping herself busy with her daughter was one distraction from her anxieties.

  Surprisingly, Theodora also found respite in dealing with her wedding arrangements. It was a distraction that was far more pleasant than she had expected, though she soon learned that even something as apparently innocuous as thinking about her wedding clothes brought its own challenges...

  While she promenaded up and down with Martina, a servant brought in a selection of delicate shoes on a silver salver and offered them up to her.

  ‘I suggest this pair, despoina,’ Sophia said, indicating a pair of purple slippers.

  ‘Dark purple? Surely that colour is too deep?’ Theodora asked, frowning at the slippers as she jiggled Martina.

  ‘Not at all, despoina, these are for your wedding day. Empress Irene herself has approved this colour. You are permitted to wear the rich purple on your wedding day.’

  Theodora handed Martina to the wet-nurse, Jelena, and picked up a slipper, eyeing it with some misgivings. ‘I was not born in the Purple Chamber, Sophia, I do not have the right.’

  Deep purple dye was incredibly costly. Everyone in the Empire knew that only princes and princesses born in the special birthing room at the heart of the Boukoleon Palace had a right to wear it.

  ‘My lady, this will be your wedding day,’ Sophia insisted. ‘The citizens are expecting a show.’

  Dear Heaven, the slipper was the deepest, darkest Imperial purple. What would the people think if they knew Theodora was not the impeccable princess they believed her to be? She had lived too long in Rascia. Her sins were such that, even on her wedding day, she was not entitled to such an honour. She replaced the slipper on the salver, and lowered her voice. ‘What a sham it all is, Sophia.’

  ‘Sham, my lady?’

  ‘You know the truth.’ Most of it. ‘I am not what everyone believes me to be. I am a disgrace.’ Theodora jerked her head at Jelena, who had taken Martina over to one of the tall windows and watched as the nurse waved an ivory rattle in front of her daughter’s face. ‘Jelena, if you need the coral teething-ring, it is in the small basket by the cradle.’

  ‘Thank you, my lady.’

&
nbsp; Sophia retrieved the purple slippers from the salver. ‘You ought to wear these. It is no sham and you are not a disgrace.’

  ‘Sophia, you are too loyal.’

  ‘I only give loyalty where loyalty is due, my lady. You have served the Empire well.’

  Theodora could not bring herself to respond, guilt held her tongue.

  ‘Princess, you served the Empire ten years ago when you accepted Prince Peter’s hand in marriage and went to Rascia; you serve the Empire today by returning to marry the Duke. You have given your life to the Empire.’

  Theodora inclined her head in acknowledgement of Sophia’s gracious comments, even if she could not agree with them. Only she knew the full truth, she was a disgrace. She was deceiving everyone, she had begun doing so even before Peter’s death. She had good reason, but that was no excuse. I am no longer the innocent girl who left Constantinople. And I have come home as an outsider.

  ‘Truly, I am not entitled to wear the Imperial purple.’ She waved the tray away.

  ‘But you will, won’t you?’

  ‘Since the Empress has given her instructions, and the people expect it, yes.’

  But I shall not feel comfortable, not for a moment. I should not be representing the Imperial House in such a way. I shall have to think of it as a performance. I shall be like an actress in the Hippodrome—yes, my marriage to Duke Nikolaos shall be my greatest performance.

  She stiffened her spine. ‘Which fabric do you recommend for my gown?’

  ‘Here, my lady.’ Thetis gestured a servant-girl forward. She had a shining length of purple silk draped reverently across her arms. ‘Unless you would prefer this?’ Thetis indicated a bolt of paler cloth lying on a side-table.

  ‘Yet more purple,’ Theodora muttered. ‘It is all purple.’

  ‘Purple suits you,’ Sophia said.

  I feel like an imposter. I am an imposter. I am deceiving everyone.

  Theodora hoped she would feel better once the ceremony was over. Marriage to the Duke would make her feel less of an outsider. She could not be marrying a better man. Duke Nikolaos had the full confidence of the Emperor; he commanded the Imperial Army, he was honour personified—in short, her betrothed was so much a part of the fabric of the Empire, he was ideal. She needed him far more than he needed her.