"What should I do now…?" Inside Blachernae Palace, John VIII tightly clenched his right fist, a headache brought on by the invitation from the Roman Curia.
The content of the invitation was simple: to resolve the slow, even stagnant, progress of church unity promoted by several Catholic bishops in Bosporus, and to discuss future Crusader cooperation, he, the Basileus, was specially invited to Amalfi in Apennine once more.
The invitation also specified the time and place, and particularly urged the Basileus not to break the appointment, emphasizing the importance of this meeting for both sides.
"No, the Ottoman fleet is still cruising the Sea of Marmara, do you Catholics really not know, or are you pretending not to know!?" John VIII, uncharacteristically, lost his temper in front of his subordinates regarding the demands of their partners.
Lucas Notaras, as the Chief Minister of the Empire, empathized with the Basileus's fury.
But to the Chief Minister's surprise, his Basileus quickly calmed down and began to discuss with his ministers how to safely reach the destination during this period.
Ultimately, to reassure the Catholic side and demonstrate Constantinople's sincerity, John VIII, despite the pleas of Chief Minister Lucas Notaras and others, gritted his teeth and responded, "Go! With the Holy Father's blessing, what can't be done!"
So, at the end of November that year, John VIII, the Basileus of the Empire, boldly boarded the ship prepared for him by the Latins, risking an attack by the Ottoman fleet, intending to take the most convenient sea route to Amalfi on the Apennine Peninsula under the cover of night.
However, unfortunately, due to the Basileus's financial constraints, he was delayed before boarding because of the boatman's last-minute price hike, only setting sail at dawn.
By then, the Ottoman fleet was already patrolling the Sea of Marmara.
To avoid further haggling and other troubles, faced with this situation, Emperor John had no choice but to bite the bullet and order the Latin captain to continue sailing, hoping to pass through by masquerading as an Italian merchant ship.
But what the entire crew found inexplicable was that the Ottomans didn't care about such distinctions at all!
Upon seeing a Latin merchant ship of considerable size attempting to slip out of the Sea of Marmara, a portion of the Ottoman fleet, originally Turk pirates, directly and unhesitatingly opened fire on this merchant ship, which they viewed as defiant, to warn other ships in the area.
Due to the short distance, and because the victims had not expected the Ottoman Turks to be so unreasonable, they had no defenses whatsoever until the cannonball struck the deck, throwing several passengers, including the Emperor, into the sea.
Thus, after a series of interlocking coincidences, a "black swan" event occurred: the deck where John VIII, Basileus of the Roman Empire, stood was unfortunately struck by a cannonball, and he, along with the nearby crew and attendants, were caught off guard and thrown into the water by an irresistible force.
Although the Ottoman ships ceased their pursuit after hitting their target once the Emperor fell into the water, and the remaining crew and attendants all rushed to rescue him, the unfortunate Emperor was already unconscious when he was pulled out.
As a result, John VIII Palaiologos, who had lived a life of unfulfilled ambition due to the decline of the Empire, unexpectedly drowned in the Sea of Marmara at the age of 50, not grandly or heroically, but rather comically.
Just as he had always resorted to appeasement to maintain the Empire's existence amidst various powers, this was how the curtain fell on a comedy that was anything but funny.
On the night John VIII drowned, his body was transported back to Constantinople by ship.
In contrast to the external powers who showed little interest, the Emperor's unexpected death immediately caused an uproar within the Empire and emboldened various factions within its borders.
Among the Emperor's remaining brothers, the faction of the eldest, Theodore, the faction of the most capable, Constantine, and the inexplicably emerging faction of Dimitrios, immediately became hostile.
If not for Empress Helena's efforts to mediate between her sons within Constantinople, the precarious Empire would likely have descended into civil war once more.
The news of John VIII's unexpected death quickly spread along the Black Sea coast within half a week.
In the morning of early December, Manuel was teaching his children and adopted son in Trabzon Palace when he received the tragic news from his rushing wife.
Thinking of his Brother-in-law's fate throughout his life, he felt truly saddened and deeply emotional for this mediocre yet exceptionally diligent Brother-in-law.
At the same time, he couldn't help but feel extremely surprised and astonished: "No, Brother-in-law John VIII is just gone like that?" According to official history, shouldn't he have lived for nearly 8 more years?
This is troublesome.
With John VIII's premature death, not to mention whether Constantine, who is currently the Moria Despotate, can still make a grand display, what if a Turk sycophant like Dimitrios takes power in Constantinople later?
Furthermore, will any soldiers from the unit he stationed in Constantinople be enticed to rashly participate in the struggle?
Although Caesar had confidence in Adian's loyalty, it was hard to say whether the ordinary soldiers within had the necessary broader perspective.
Thinking of these unexpected circumstances, Manuel couldn't help but nervously run his fingers through his hair.
After pacing and pondering for half a minute, he suddenly realized, "Could this be an opportunity?"
Whether it was an opportunity could be considered later; for now, he felt he should fulfill his duties as a husband and father, comforting his grieving wife Barbara and the children who might be sad along with the adults…
No, his beloved children didn't seem to be grieving with the adults at all.
Rather, because they didn't understand the reason for the matter, his children instead widened their eyes in confusion, and the little Crown Prince Theodore, not yet 4 years old, even clapped his hands and laughed because his father hadn't lectured him about his spelling mistakes.
That's right, after all, in their hearts, they probably had no concept of their Uncle John, whom they had barely seen.
If he told them that their handsome and kind Uncle, their third uncle, had passed away, their reaction would probably be completely different from now, Manuel thought.
Although he understood his children's thoughts, Manuel still snapped out of it and reprimanded them:
"John is your uncle, Theodore, Eustia, calm down!"
Seeing their father's rare anger, all the children present quieted down, though their expressions showed they were still utterly confused.
Seeing that his children still looked bewildered, Manuel could only change his expression, sigh helplessly, and earnestly admonish them:
"No matter what, children, this is not funny."