General_Hoth: Always glad to hear someone else is enjoying my work
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May 29, 1453
"He is dying, your Lordship."
Konstantinos frowned, glaring irritably at the doctor. The man wilted under his stern gaze, meekly folding his hands together as if to shield himself from the onslaught Konstantinos was about to unleash.
"What sort of nonsense is that?" Konstantinos snapped. "He's not even sixty yet. He was perfectly well when I saw him last week!"
"He has lived a long life," the doctor calmly explained. "All those years sailing and explorer, never resting. I have been his doctor for almost ten years now, and not once has he ever heeded my advice."
"It sounds as if you didn't do your job, then!"
Konstantinos was angry, and a small part of him felt rightly so. The Emperor had been confined to his bed for days now after some sudden affliction had struck the otherwise healthy and energetic Isaakios Batatzes. For the thirty years Kosntantinos had known the Emperor, he had never been sick or shirked his duty for even a day.
So why start now?
The prince ignored the doctor as he droned on about some aspect or another of his diagnosis. He cared little for what was wrong with the Emperor, so long as he
got better.
"I wish to see the Emperor now," he gruffly interrupted the man in mid-sentence.
"He should rest in the state he's in," the doctor protested feebly even as Konstantinos marched past him toward the door to Isaakios' private chambers.
Konstantinos glanced suspiciously back over his shoulder. "If he is dying as you say, then it makes little difference," he retorted before shoving the door open and stepping inside.
He halted midway. Shades hung over the windows deprived the room of any light save for a few flickering candles at the bedside. The Emperor lay prostrate in bed, eeriely still. As Konstantinos drew slowly closer, he watched shadows move about a face that seemed to have aged a decade since he had last seen the emperor.
As Konstantinos sat down at the Emperor's bedside, Isaakios stirred, opening his eyes and gazing wearily up at him. It took a moment, but recognition finally dawned on him.
"I thought... you were taking an expedition to the south..." Isaakios said, his voice straining yet hardly more than a whisper.
"I heard you had fallen ill and hurried back," Konstantinos answered. "The men can survive without me for a few days."
Isaakios cracked a smile, which seemed only to exhaust him further. "You would be surprised, old friend. They rely on you to lead them."
Konstantinos shook his head slightly and patted Isaakios' shoulder placatingly. "I just follow my orders. They already have a leader, a better one than I'd ever be."
Isaakios broke out into a laugh, a hoarse, throaty noise that soon degenerated into a fit of coughing. "Too humble for your own good," he responded. "That's what your father said to me once, and it seems he was right after all, amazingly."
There was a brief moment of silence before he continued. "I'm dying, you know."
Konstantinos wanted to protest, but he merely nodded his head.
"I guess that's what happens when you spend half your life in some unexplored jungle eating nothing but naval rations," Isaakios concluded with a chuckle. "I was too busy all these years to really think about death, and now that it's staring me in the face... all I want to do is punch it in the damn face!"
Konstantinos smiled. "See? There's still some fight left in you."
Isaakios waved his hand dismissively, covering his mouth with the other as another coughing spell convulsed his frame. "I'm just glad I'll have a good man to continue my work when I'm gone."
"Your successor still has to be selected by the people," Konstantinos rejoined.
"Don't try and deny it," Isaakios said, shaking his head slightly. "It will be unanimous. No one can deny the dedication you've shown in building our new home."
"I just do what needs to be done."
"And you'll keep doing it!" Isaakios barked a laugh, jabbing a finger at Konstantinos. "And never forget where we came from. Never forget that one day, when we are strong and powerful again, we will return to the Old World and reclaim our lost homeland, free our people, and restore the glory of Rome. "
Konstantinos nodded intently. "I won't forget."
"This New World will provide us with the means. We can never forget how blessed we are to have been given this opportunity!" Isaakios said, his voice rising in intensity as his mind slipped further into a delirium. "We are Romans! The New World is ours! And we shall reclaim the Old!"
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A large group of nobles stood anxiously outside the door to the Emperor's private chambers when Konstantinos finally emerged just over an hour later. Gazing down somberly at the floor as he gently closed the door behind him, Konstantinos showed no sign of acknowledging the men gathered before him.
Finally, after a tense moment of silence, he looked up, regarding them each in turn. Representatives of all the major noble houses were present: Dukas, Komnenos, Byrennios, Thrakesios, Skleros, Kantakouzenos, and more.
"The Emperor is dead," Konstantinos announced at last, suppressing his emotions and clenching his jaw firmly.
There was a moment's hesitation as the words registered in the minds of the nobility. Then, as one, they shouted: "Long live the Emperor!"