The child nodded. “I’ll wake Helena, Papa. Have we much time?”

“Just time to dress,” he said. He left the room shaking his head at her quick grasp of the situation. If only she’d been a boy!

Theadora Cantacuzene rose from her bed. Calmly pouring water into a basin, she washed her face and hands. She then slipped a simple green tunic dress over her shift and pulled a pair of outdoor boots over her little feet. Refilling the basin with fresh water, she lay out a pink tunic and another pair of boots.

“Helena,” she called. “Helena, wake up!”

Helena opened her beautiful blue eyes and looked at her little sister irritably. “It is barely dawn, brat. Why do you wake me?”

“The emperor is dead! We go to St. Barbara’s with Mother. Get dressed, or you’ll be left behind for old Xenia-Marie’s torture chamber!”

Helena scrambled out of bed. “Where are you going?” she shrieked.

“To find Mother. You had better hurry, Helena!” Theadora found her mother bidding Matthew goodbye outside the palace. She and her brother were but two years apart and had always been close. Now they clung to each other, and Matthew whispered, “I am afraid, Thea. What will happen to us?”

“Nothing,” she soothed him. Lord, he was such a gentle boy, she thought. “Father puts us with the church for safety. We’ll be back together again soon. Besides, it should be fun for you-escaping from all us women!”

He took heart from her words and, hugging her, turned back to their mother. He kissed her, mounted his horse, and rode manfully off, with Leo close behind.

Next to go were Sophia and Eudoxia, escorted-to their delight-by a troop of Cantacuzene’s household guards. The girls preened and giggled, deliberately bumping the young soldiers, rubbing their bobbing breasts against young male arms and backs. Zoe spoke sharply to them. They gave her sour looks, but they obeyed. She was a good stepmother, more liberal than most, and both girls knew it.