He rose, helping Zoe from the litter, he introduced her. At the sight of the children, Mother Thamar’s face softened.

“My daughters, Princess Helena and Princess Theadora,” John said quietly.

So, thought the nun. That is how it is going to be! Well, his family has a right to those titles, though they have rarely used them.

Taking his wife aside, John Cantacuzene spoke quietly with her for a few moments, then kissed her tenderly. Then he spoke with his daughters.

“If I am a princess,” asked Helena, “then I must marry a prince. Mustn’t I, Father?”

“You are a princess, my pet, but I mean for you to be an empress some day.”

Helena’s blue eyes widened. Then she asked, “And shall Thea be an empress also?”

“I have not yet chosen a husband for Theadora.”

Helena shot her little sister a triumphant look. “Why not marry her to the Grand Turk, father? Maybe he likes purple eyes!”

“I would never marry that old infidel,” exclaimed Theadora. “Besides, Father would never do anything to make me unhappy. And that certainly would!”

“You would have to marry him if Father said so.” Helena was unbearably smug. “And then you would have to leave the city! Forever!”

“If I married that old man,” countered Theadora, “I should see that he brought his army to capture the city. Then I should be its empress instead of you!”

“Helena! Theadora!” scolded Zoe gently, but John Cantacuzene laughed heartily. “Ah, chick,” he chuckled, ruffling Theadora’s hair, “you really should have been a boy! What fire! What spirit! What a damned logical mind! I shall find you the most advantageous husband, I promise you.”

Bending, he kissed his two daughters, then strode back out through the gate, mounting his horse, he waved and rode off, confident that his family was safe. Now he could begin his battle for the throne of Byzantium.

It was not an easy war, for the population of Byzantium was torn by loyalties. Both the Paleaologis and the Cantacuzenes were old, respected families.