The Hippodrome.
Great horses and chariots flooded a U-shaped track. Each time the teams completed a lap, the crowd erupted in cheers.
A colossal arena placed right before the Imperial Palace.
What could possibly feel more Roman than this?
"I thought someone like Prince Baldwin would prefer a joust," Alexios said with a grin.
He and I were seated together in the Emperor's private box.
Over the last few days, we'd spent enough time together that the awkwardness had worn away. We could speak comfortably now—almost like friends.
"Sometimes the new things are more fun," I replied, smiling back. "I've seen enough jousting to last a lifetime."
"And Jerusalem doesn't have anything like chariot races."
That was the official reason.
The real reason was simpler: Byzantines didn't particularly like jousting.
To them, it was a sport for "Latin barbarians." Even Manuel—Alexios's father—had been criticized for enjoying it.
That was exactly why I'd chosen to sponsor chariot races instead.
There was no point spending a fortune just to earn resentment.
I glanced at the young emperor.
Eyes shining, totally absorbed in the race.
A kid was still a kid.
Even if this wasn't just any kid.
His father was an emperor called the Great.
His maternal uncle ruled Antioch.
His aunt's husband was the King of Hungary.
His wife was a French princess.
And he was related to me by marriage as well.
In a way, this boy was Manuel's greatest diplomatic achievement—born from the most prestigious and influential bloodlines in Europe.
A "guardian" meant to protect the Empire.
And yet… in the history I knew, he wouldn't last long. He'd die with his mother only a few years after taking the throne.
A footnote. A paragraph, at best.
Realizing I was trying to save someone whose fate was supposed to end like that… it left a strange taste in my mouth.
A sudden clang— metal on metal—snapped me back.
In the middle of the track, a chariot had overturned.
"Did you see that?!" Alexios shouted, thrilled. "Number three jerked the reins at the last second and—!"
"It rolled," I said, nodding.
The driver crawled out, waved as if to say he was fine.
"WOOOOOO!"
The crowd roared, and the race surged on.
"I'll be honest," I said with a laugh, "I didn't expect the heat to be this intense."
"Never underestimate Rome's love for chariots," Alexios said, smiling. "It's strong enough to change an emperor."
He continued, clearly pleased to show off what he knew.
"Five hundred years ago, the Greens and the Blues—who sparked the Nika Riots—began as nothing more than chariot factions."
"I've heard," I said, amused.
The Greens and Blues had grown into political forces with frightening influence. When they joined hands, the rebellion that followed was the infamous Nika Riot.
In the game, managing those factions had always been the worst part of playing Byzantium—endless appeasement, endless mood management.
Now, with the Empire steadier and the frenzy cooled, they were mostly just names.
And yet even "cooled down" looked like this.
I stared out at the packed stands.
If this was the faded version… I couldn't imagine what the peak had been like.
"My mother said something to me," Alexios said suddenly, his expression serious.
"She said you were like a lifeline sent down to us."
He swallowed, then added quietly:
"Because of this festival, the dignity and authority of the imperial house have risen."
"There's nothing more effective than a festival when it comes to calming the people," I replied, smiling.
No wonder the phrase bread and circuses had survived all the way into the 21st century.
Ever since the celebrations began, the Byzantine rage toward Latins had noticeably cooled.
Not gone—far from it—but the air no longer felt like it could ignite into a massacre at any moment.
And Alexios's popularity had climbed, too.
Even if Mani or Andronikos tried to stir a coup now, persuading the guard and the army would be far harder.
But what I'd done so far was only a bandage.
As long as those snakes remained, the danger remained.
I needed a way to cut them out.
"How should I put it…" Alexios murmured.
His cheeks flushed.
"I think you're… more natural than I am."
"Natural? What do you mean, Your Majesty?"
"I've been trained to be emperor since birth," he said, voice dropping. "But the crown still feels too heavy."
He hesitated.
"And you're my age, yet you handle priests and nobles so easily…"
I almost laughed.
So that's what he meant. That I seemed more like an adult than he did.
Of course I did.
I was older—by years that mattered.
"I'm just acting," I said lightly. "Doing whatever I can to survive."
Because if I didn't, I'd end up swallowed by this damned fate.
Hugh's words returned to me—about reaching God and demanding answers.
I shivered without meaning to.
Alexios misread it and burst into laughter.
I laughed too, and for a moment we were just boys, sharing a simple moment.
When the race ended, Alexios stood.
"Stand with me," he said. "You are the Empire's honored guest."
"It's an honor."
I rose with him.
The crowd's roar shook the box itself.
My ears rang for minutes afterward.
That afternoon.
The Imperial Palace.
"The Latin merchants seem satisfied, for the most part," Aig said. "This festival let them prove how quickly their companies can move."
"They accepted my proposal because they calculated the same," I replied, nodding.
After the chariot races, I'd been invited deeper into the palace—an exclusive meal the emperor shared with only a few guests.
One of the rare occasions where the empress attended as well.
"Send word to Jerusalem to supply elixir to the trading companies as agreed," I added.
"But don't flood the market all at once. The value can't drop too quickly."
"Understood, Your Highness."
Hugh and Aig walked with me through the corridor.
When we reached the door, a massive man approached and bowed.
"It is an honor to meet you, Prince Baldwin. I am Ruaak, captain of the imperial guard."
A beard that reached his chest, gold armor, a distinctly Viking look—
Varangian, without question.
His eyes flicked to the dagger at my waist.
"Normally, no guest may carry weapons in the presence of His Majesty. However…"
He continued evenly.
"His Majesty has granted you an unprecedented exception. You may enter as you are."
Then he looked toward Hugh and Aig.
"As you know, your companions must wait."
Hugh nodded.
"We will wait in the antechamber, Your Highness."
"I wish you could dine with us, Sir Hugh—no, never mind," I said.
Hugh's status was high enough, but a leper in the emperor's private dining room was unthinkable.
"It's all right," he said with a small smile. "Greek food doesn't agree with me anyway."
Ruaak led me inside.
Silverware and jeweled ornaments glittered, almost irritating to the eyes.
Two Varangian guards stood within.
And at the table sat two figures.
"We've been waiting, Prince," Alexios said, standing.
Beside him sat the young empress I'd seen before—Agnes.
"It is good to see you again, Prince Baldwin," she said, rising as well.
She looked slightly tense.
I bowed lightly.
At Alexios's gesture, servants entered with dish after dish.
Ruaak took his position behind the emperor.
"Please," Alexios said. "Before the food goes cold."
The banquet began.
As it went on, Agnes's tension slowly eased.
"I heard you fought Saracens yourself before coming here," she said.
"Could you tell us about it?"
"It's not such a remarkable story," I replied.
Still, I seasoned it with just enough drama.
Stories like this always needed a little spice.
"So the sea tribes were acting under Lord Raynald's orders?" she asked.
"Most likely," I said. "Raynald used food as bait."
We spoke of many things after that.
Food. Elixir. Even forks.
"You're very skilled with a fork," Agnes said, blushing slightly. "Before I came here, I'd never used one. I'm still clumsy."
"In Outremer, you won't last long without a fork," I replied, laughing.
Was this before forks became common in Western Europe?
Honestly, chopsticks would've been easier for me…
But if I started using chopsticks here—
I could already hear historians screaming.
Why did a Jerusalem prince use chopsticks?
"People say the citizens are truly delighted by the festival," Agnes said. "As empress, I want to thank you."
"It wouldn't have been possible without His Majesty's approval."
"When he first heard your proposal, he was very happy," she added quickly. "He cares deeply for his people."
Alexios's face turned red.
I barely held back a smile.
They were both so young it was almost absurdly adorable.
Alexios cleared his throat, trying to cover his embarrassment.
"Now that we've finished dining," he said, "let us watch the performance."
He clapped.
Servants entered to clear the table.
Then four men in jester-like costumes filed into the room.
A mime act, maybe?
Post-banquet entertainment was normal.
I watched them step forward.
And—
Every hair on my body rose.
Killing intent.
It was unmistakable.
I shot to my feet.
"Guards! Arrest them at—"
Ruaak and the guards stared, stunned.
The men were startled too.
But before I could finish, they lunged.
Daggers flashed.
"Assassins! Protect His Majesty!" Ruaak bellowed at last, charging.
Steel gleamed in torchlight.
Agnes screamed.
My heart pounded, and everything blurred.
The world moved like slow motion.
A guard at the door split one man's skull with an axe.
But another assassin drove a blade into that guard's throat.
Three assassins remained.
On our side—Ruaak and one other guard.
Then I saw it.
He's going to throw the knife.
Their target was Alexios.
The boy emperor was frozen.
Agnes too.
I didn't think. I moved.
I snatched a silver serving tray and threw myself in front of them.
Instinct was all I had.
CLANG—!
The thrown dagger struck the tray with a shriek of metal.
I knocked it aside and shouted at the two children:
"Both of you—down!"
Only then did they duck under the table.
I faced forward.
Including me, it was three against three.
The door rattled—blocked or barred from outside.
Leaving the emperor to open it was impossible.
I locked eyes with the assassins.
I felt it—panic.
They hadn't expected this.
They'd planned to hide behind "performance" until the perfect moment.
My interference had ruined everything.
"Σκότωσέ το!" someone barked.
They surged again.
Ruaak and the guard intercepted, but they couldn't stop all three.
One slipped through and rushed straight at me.
He smiled faintly.
As if a child would be nothing.
I tightened my grip on my Damascus dagger.
Good. Just like training.
Just like training—
He slashed once.
Twice.
Three times.
I read the rhythm and dodged.
His eyes widened when his strikes failed.
"πως…!"
I drove into his space.
Exactly as Hugh had drilled into me.
With my smaller frame, closing distance favored me.
First—his leg.
My blade bit into his thigh.
He collapsed with a strangled cry.
Blood and fluid sprayed, stinging my eyes.
My focus faltered.
A blunt impact followed.
His fist.
I hit the floor hard and rolled.
Pain—white, roaring.
My head screamed.
I tried to rise.
My body wouldn't obey.
It felt like I was trapped inside someone else's skin.
Through blurred vision, I saw him staggering toward me.
He raised his dagger for my throat—
"AAAAH!"
He screamed and toppled sideways.
I turned my head.
Alexios stood there, clutching a dining knife.
The assassin yanked it from his side and glared at the child emperor.
"Αυτό το παιδί…!"
Move.
Move now.
How?
Legs first—
I grabbed at my fading consciousness.
I couldn't afford to pass out.
I lurched up like a puppet with cut strings and threw myself forward.
The assassin was about to slash at Alexios.
I ripped the blade from the man's leg and drove it up, under the jaw, into the throat.
A wet gurgle.
Warm blood poured out.
At that moment the door burst open—
Hugh and more guards stormed in.
"Your Highness!"
Hugh drew his sword instantly, reading the scene in a heartbeat.
I tried to speak, but my voice barely worked.
"Don't… kill them all… Take one alive… the one behind—"
I watched the last two assassins fall—
and let the darkness take me.
"Prince? Your Highness!"