The Duke believed she wanted his protection, but that was not the whole of it. She needed him to blot out her sin. She needed him to help her reclaim the land of her birth. I will be happier when the whole business is over and done with.
Theodora had been trying not to think about her betrothed, he was yet another of those disturbing things that she was trying not to dwell on. Although it had to be said, thinking about Duke Nikolaos did not disturb her in quite the same way that thinking about Župan Djuradj disturbed her.
Duke Nikolaos of Larissa excited her, he made her nervous. His physicality was impossible to ignore. Not that she wanted to ignore it. Had there been no secrets between them, Theodora would relish the thought of sharing a bed with him. Her awareness of his masculinity and her physical attraction to him was a revelation. Theodora had never thought she might enjoy a man’s body. Princesses married for duty, not pleasure. She had grown into womanhood knowing that she would marry Peter. There had been no physical excitement there, only acceptance. Duke Nikolaos made her suspect that, with him, mutual physical enjoyment was a definite possibility.
Or it might be, if she did not have so many secrets. She hated not being open with him. Would there never be an end to it? When Theodora had decided that, come what may, she was going to keep her daughter, she had known it was not going to be easy. But she had had no idea that everything would spiral out of control so wildly. Every day her life was becoming more and more complicated...
She cleared her throat. ‘Do we know what Duke Nikolaos will be wearing?’
‘My apologies, my lady,’ Sophia said, smiling, ‘we have just received word on that, I meant to tell you straightaway. The Duke’s manservant sent to say that Duke Nikolaos will be wearing the dress uniform of the General of the Immortals.’
‘White with silver and gold,’ Theodora murmured, remembering the tunic he had worn in the Fountain Court. Would he be wearing full armour? She hoped not. If there was to be any kissing, she did not relish the thought of being swept into the arms of someone in heavy armour. Not that she was thinking about anything as trivial as kissing.
‘You are to be carried from the Palace to the church in a palanquin—’
‘I am to have a litter?’
‘Yes, my lady. And Athanatoi Cavalry officers will form part of your escort.’ Sophia waved at the bolts of material. ‘Which do you like, my lady?’
Theodora fingered the silk in the maidservant’s arms. ‘This is heavenly, so smooth. I love the way it shimmers.’
She reminded herself that the people of Constantinople were not the only ones to be expecting a show. She had not forgotten the Duke telling her that he wanted their marriage. He had fought for His Majesty and he expected public acclamation of his service—she was his reward. Theodora stared at the rippling, delicate silk. The Duke had been most accommodating when she had asked that their marriage be hurried along. He wouldn’t be getting the virgin that he expected, and at the moment he did not have the faintest notion that she needed him so much more than he needed her. He might cast her off when he learned the truth, but in the meantime she could at least give him this—if Duke Nikolaos wanted a show, then he must have one.
I am a princess. I am an actress. This will be my greatest performance.
‘This one, Thetis, the dark purple.’
Thetis beamed.
All week, gifts flooded into the apartment. Duke Nikolaos sent her a delicate gold ring. It had an enamelled front with a secret compartment behind it. On an impulse, Theodora cut off a lock of her daughter’s hair and slipped it inside. She put the ring on the middle finger of her right hand, and there the ring stayed, a reminder of her pledge to marry him.
The next day, he sent her a set of polished silver bangles; they were sleek of line, sophisticated. The day after that, a gold set was delivered, they had been made to the same pattern as the silver ones. The gold bangles were accompanied with a note which read, For my beautiful bride, in the hope that they please her. They are not as heavy as the diadem.
In the privacy of her bedchamber, Theodora studied the bangles. The clean lines and lack of ornamentation was most appealing. Duke Nikolaos might be one of the most powerful men in the Empire, but even he could not compete with the wealth of an emperor or a prince. She liked it that he hadn’t tried, that he had instead attempted to find gifts to suit her temperament. He had remembered their discussion about crowns.
Interleaving the bangles, silver with gold, she slipped them on her arms, smiling as the cool metal warmed to her body temperature. Afterwards, the bracelets jingled with her every movement, reminding her of him—not that she needed any reminder. The Duke’s gifts gave her hope that this marriage might one day be more than a matter of expedience. What would life be like if Duke Nikolaos became more to her than simply her protector, her means of coming home? And how would it be if he came to look on their marriage as more than a matter of political expediency?
Duke Nikolaos was not the only one to send gifts to the apartment. From His Majesty and her cousin the Empress, Theodora received an amethyst and pearl studded collar.
The Lord Chamberlain sent her a ruby-encrusted necklace.
‘Put these in the strongbox, if you please, Sophia. And please send messages of thanks.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
Another courtier sent her an icon that had been painted by the monks on Mount Athos.
‘That can go on the east wall in the bedchamber, Thetis. Please convey my thanks to Lord Constantine.’
Princess Theodora received a jewelled reliquary that had come from Ravenna. She received perfumes and gilded oil lamps, enamelled belts and cloak pins; she was given ribbons and flowers, the apartment was awash with flowers.
And petitions. Lord, the petitions...
My lady, I beg you to have words with your cousin the Empress. My fourteen-year-old daughter, Maria, would make the perfect lady-in-waiting. She has been well trained. She is pretty and quiet. And should the Empress not need another lady, perhaps you yourself might consider...
Princess Theodora, I implore you, my son, Demetrios...
Through it all Martina cried, her gums were tender and everyone must know of it.
Oil of cloves was called for; more rattles were found—silver, ebony, they even tried a humble gourd—but Martina was not to be placated. Every indignant wail reminded Theodora that by rights her daughter should be Princess of Rascia. It was as though Martina was intent on letting the world know how much she objected to her present, unsatisfactory status.
* * *
On her last official morning as an unmarried woman, Theodora’s ladies cloistered her in her bedchamber to clothe her for her wedding. It seemed to take an age. First her underskirts, then her purple robes. There was smoothing, pinning, and last-minute stitchery.
‘You have lost weight, my lady.’
‘Oh?’
Every time Theodora shifted, the silver and gold bracelets tinkled like bells. Sophia stood behind her, busily coiling her hair into place. Like the rest of her, her hair had been oiled and washed and perfumed. Theodora could feel gentle fingers on her scalp as Sophia worked.
Catching a glimpse of yet more purple, she caught Sophia’s hand. ‘What’s that? What are you doing?’
‘It is only a violet, despoina. You love their fragrance, so I thought to weave one or two into your hair, it will look very pretty. Unless you object?’
Theodora released Sophia’s hand. ‘Please continue.’
‘Which rings shall you wear, my lady?’ Thetis asked.
‘No rings save the enamelled one, I thank you. I shall wear the silver and gold bangles, though.’
‘Very well. What about the large diadem, Princess?’
Theodora shook her head. ‘A simple one will be better, particularly with the violets. We must allow for the wedding crown.’
Thetis nodded and handed her a fringed shawl. Naturally that too was purple. Theodora pushed away the inevitable feeling of guilt. She refuse
d to allow guilt to dominate her today. This is a show, Today is all for show.
‘Excuse me, my lady?’ Jelena came in carrying Martina and, for once, Theodora’s noisy daughter was at peace. ‘Will Martina be going with you into the new apartment?’
Theodora’s stomach tightened with the familiar anxiety. She glanced over her shoulder and exchanged looks with Sophia. In the last week, she had not seen the Duke for more than a few moments, but they had found time to discuss where they might live. They could not keep this apartment because of its location in the women’s quarters, but His Majesty had offered them another apartment in the Boukoleon Palace. A set of chambers a couple of floors below this one was free, and the Emperor had said that he would be delighted if Princess Theodora and Duke Nikolaos would move into it after the wedding. The plan was that Theodora’s attendants, along with their belongings, would be transferred to the new apartment while the wedding ceremony took place.
‘Duke Nikolaos has said that he welcomes all my entourage, Jelena. You and Martina are an important part of my household.’
Theodora had yet to mention Martina or Jelena to the Duke and she was more than a little concerned about this, but it was customary that the husband of a princess should accept her entire household.
Martina gurgled and reached for a bead necklace round Jelena’s neck. Absently disengaging her tiny fingers, Jelena looked doubtfully at Theodora. ‘Does the Duke know you have an infant in your entourage?’
Theodora struggled to conceal her misgivings, she had not told him because she had been reluctant to draw his attention to Martina. What if he objected? She had hoped to avoid an argument, at least until after the wedding.
‘The Duke is expected to welcome everyone, Jelena.’
‘Will there be a nursery in the Duke’s apartment?’
‘There will be when I have informed him of Martina’s needs. In the meantime, you may pick out the chamber you think most suitable and use that.’
‘Thank you, my lady.’ Dipping into a curtsy, Jelena went out.
‘I hope I am doing the right thing, Sophia,’ Theodora murmured.
‘Despoina?’ Sophia pushed the final hairpin into place and surveyed her handiwork, a small smile on her lips.
‘Will there be difficulties, do you think? Will Duke Nikolaos accept Martina? It may not be easy for a man like the Duke, a warrior who is more at home in the barracks than the Palace, to find himself surrounded by my ladies. Martina may be a step too far.’
Sophia’s expression sobered. ‘I have given this much thought in the last few days and I have been praying that you would ask for my views. It might be wise to delay the Duke’s introduction to Martina. Theodora, with your permission, I should like to tell you my conclusion...’
Theodora’s heart sank. Sophia had used Theodora’s Christian name, something she rarely did. Few people were privileged to address Theodora so intimately. That Sophia chose to do so today proved she was touching on matters that were deeply personal to her mistress. And deeply important.
‘Please, Sophia, continue.’
When Sophia took a deep breath, Theodora knew she was not going to like what Sophia was going to say.
‘Thetis, you may leave us.’
‘My lady.’ Thetis left the bedchamber and softly closed the door.
‘Theodora, I do not believe this is the time to pass Martina off as the child of a slave. Especially when the Duke will be—forgive my bluntness—especially when he will be within his rights to bed you in eight days’ time. A man of his experience may recognise that you are not a virgin and he is very likely to leap to conclusions about the true identity of Martina’s mother.’
Theodora wanted to put her hands over her ears to block out the unwelcome words. ‘You have a suggestion, I take it?’
‘Send Martina away for a few weeks. Let the Duke get to know you...allow a...a bond to develop between you. Then you may recall Martina.’
‘Send Martina away?’ Theodora twisted the enamelled ring round on her finger. ‘Sophia, that is the one thing I cannot do! I thought you, of all people, understood this.’
‘Theodora.’ Sophia’s gaze was earnest. With a smile she reached up and adjusted Theodora’s circlet. ‘I urge you to reconsider. The Duke has been agreeable over the altered date for your wedding, but I do not think he will be so agreeable over the presence of a baby in your entourage. Make sure he is in love with you before you tell him.’
Theodora felt her lips curl. ‘A man in love will believe anything?’
Sophia smiled. ‘No, but he is more likely to accept anything.’
‘Sophia, he may never love me—’
‘There’s a convent nearby, Saint Elizabeth’s,’ Sophia said, ignoring Theodora’s objection. ‘I am sure that if you gave them a donation, they would be happy to take both Martina and Jelena. Saint Elizabeth’s is very close to the Palace, you could visit every day.’
Theodora set her jaw. ‘Your suggestion is unacceptable. Martina stays with me.’
‘Martina will be quite safe in the convent. And it might not be for long. Theodora, you have already caught the Duke’s interest—’
‘No! Sophia, that is my last word on the subject. I forbid you to raise it again.’
Sophia held her gaze for a moment, before bowing her head. ‘As you wish, despoina.’
Theodora looked down at her enamelled ring and sighed. ‘Bring the hand mirror, if you please. I should like to see if I am fit to go to my wedding.’
Sophia found the mirror and Theodora found herself gazing at a stranger, a gorgeously arrayed stranger. Her gown, in deepest purple as decreed by the Empress,
fitted her to perfection. Her slightest movement was accompanied by the rustle of heavy silk. Bracelets chinking, she inspected the intertwining violets sewn on the hem and the sleeves.
‘The seamstresses have done well to finish the embroidery in time,’ she murmured. ‘Was this your idea, Sophia?’
‘Yes, my lady.’
Sophia had arranged her hair on the top of her head, shaping it into shining twists and curls. Several long strands were twined about the simple coronet. ‘My hair has never looked better and you were right about the violets—they add a touch of lightness. Thank you, Sophia.’
‘I am glad you like them, my lady. You look every inch the princess. Quite magnificent.’
Theodora looked dispassionately at her reflection. She didn’t feel magnificent. She felt sick with nerves. She was clinging to the thought that she would feel better once the church service was over. The marriage ceremony would wipe away past sins, it would be a new beginning.
What will the people see when I walk into Hagia Sophia? Will they see a magnificent princess or will they see me, the real me?
They will see what they expect to see—I have been trained.
The golden coronet Theodora was wearing to her wedding might be lighter than the diadem she had worn to her betrothal ceremony, but she was carrying a weight of expectations that was heavier than any diadem. The City wants a magnificent princess. A perfect princess.
Theodora tried to see what Sophia saw. Her wedding dress was very grand, the hem trailed across the marble floor, swirling out behind her, yard after extravagant yard of finest silk. Pearl and amethyst earrings swung from her ears; the priceless amethyst and pearl collar that had been a wedding gift from His Majesty glowed about her neck.
She studied her face. The reflection was largely a lie, only her eyes betrayed her real self. Wide brown eyes, frightened eyes, stared back from the polished surface of the mirror. Yes, her true self was there, hidden behind kohl and rouge and carefully applied cosmetics. Her true self must remain hidden. The people must see the image, they must see what Sophia sees. Today I am a perfect princess. I am entirely without sin.
She could only pray that Duke Nikolaos saw only perfection. She was not ready for him to see the true Theodora.
Pushing her doubts away, she waved the mirror aside. ‘The palanquin is ready?’
‘Yes, my lady, it awaits below.’
Theodora gave Sophia a calm smile and swept into the reception chamber to accept the good wishes of her other ladies. Two questions went round in her mind. How long will it take for the Duke to see the real, flawed Theodora? And how will he react when he does?
* * *
It had rained earlier. The steps of the Palace portico were dark with wet. The wind—an easterly—was brisk and chill. As Theodora paused on the top step, goose-bumps formed on her arms.
The palanquin was the largest she had ever seen. And it had been painted in the same exact shade of purple as her gown. It had a domed roof—more purple—flecked with silver stars. As Theodora looked uneasily at it, her heart jumped. I am deceiving everyone. A hanging on the side of the palanquin worked loose and snapped in the wind. A slave rushed forward, caught the silver-fringed cloth and briskly tied it back. Other slaves were lined up, waiting to carry the litter. There were several onlookers—ladies, stable boys, eunuchs from the Imperial offices, scribes...
Theodora glanced up. The sky looked restless—a bank of untidy, leaden clouds was being pushed relentlessly to the west. ‘I hope that wind doesn’t wreck all your work, Sophia,’ she said, briefly touching a violet. For once, she was happy not to be riding.
A shawl appeared and was held over her head. ‘I am only grateful that Lord Basil insisted on the palanquin,’ Sophia said, clucking gently as she ushered Theodora down the last of the damp Palace steps. ‘Thetis, lift the train higher.’
Thetis scrambled to deal with the yards of Imperial silk, and although she could have managed without her ladies, Theodora allowed herself to be helped into the palanquin. The people want a show and I must give it to them. Her palms felt clammy, but she resisted the impulse to wipe them on her gown.
‘You, too, Sophia, I want you to come with me.’
Sophia’s face lit up. ‘You want me to ride to Hagia Sophia with you?’
Betrothed to the Barbarian Page 12