“The weather was God’s blessing on the venture, Leo. There was no one on the streets to observe our passage. We have seen only three people since we left the convent. All soldiers.”

“There was no difficulty, Majesty?”

“None, Leo. But I am eager to see my husband. Where is he?”

“He is waiting at his main camp a few miles from here. If Your Majesty will allow me, I will help you into the wagon. I regret the crude transport, but it is better than walking.”

The next few days were a blur for Theadora. They had arrived safely at her father’s camp where warm, dry clothes and hot baths waited. She slept a few hours and then was awakened for the march to Selymbria, where her father had his temporary capital. The journey took two long days in the wagon, plowing through muddy paths beneath torrential rains.

It had been almost six years since she and her father had seen one another. John Cantacuzene embraced his daughter and then held her back so he could look at her. Satisfied with what he saw, he smiled and said, “Orkhan Gahzi will be very pleased with you, Thea. You are becoming a real beauty, my child. Have you yet begun your show of blood?”

“No, Papa,” she said calmly. And may I not for many years, she thought!

“A pity,” replied the emperor. “Perhaps I should send your sister instead. The Turks like blonds, and she is now a woman.”

Yes! Yes! thought Theadora. Send Helena!

“No, John,” said Zoe Cantacuzene, looking up from her embroidery. “Thea is content to do her duty by our family. Are you not, my love?”

“Yes, Mama,” came the whispered reply.

Zoe smiled. “The young Paleaologi is seventeen-a man ready to bed his wife. Helena is fourteen and ready to receive a husband. Leave things as they are, my lord.”

“You are right, my love,” John said, nodding. And several days later Theadora’s wedding took place.

The bridegroom was not present but was represented by a Christian proxy.