EMPIRE REWRITTEN
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The Journal of George Sphrantzes – October 5, 1428
🕑 Added 2024-10-03 16:05:06 +0000 UTCThe Journal of George Sphrantzes – October 5, 1428
It has been a few days since the Despot's sudden illness struck him, confining him to his chambers. At first, we believed it to be some malady of the mind, perhaps a lingering consequence of the constant pressure he faces in governing the Morea. However, his recovery has brought little reassurance. The man who emerged from that room is not the Constantine I once knew.
I have served Constantine for many years, first as his attendant and now as his advisor. I know him well—his moods, his mannerisms, and even his silences. But now, I scarcely recognize the man standing before me. His gaze, once sharp and filled with the iron will of a ruler, now holds an air of confusion, as though he is observing the world anew. He falters in conversation, often pausing as if grasping for words that should come naturally to him. And his eyes, though still piercing, lack the steady resolve I’ve come to expect.
Today, I watched him as he walked through the castle halls, his steps uncertain, his posture tense as if the very weight of his robes were foreign to him. When he spoke of matters concerning the defense of Clarentza, his questions were strange and oddly simplistic, seeking answers to details he has previously understood with ease. He inquired about the fortifications and trade routes with an unfamiliar curiosity, as if he were learning of them for the first time.
He even asked my name this morning, as though I were a stranger. I told myself it might be a jest, a brief moment of humor amidst these grim days, but the way he looked at me, his brow furrowed, gave me pause. Could this be some manner of affliction from the stress of ruling, or has he simply succumbed to the weariness of his burdens?
Yet, I cannot dismiss a more troubling thought. The Constantine I knew was a man of clear conviction and pride. This new Constantine, though still resembling him in face and form, seems uncertain, almost as if he carries the soul of another. The change is unsettling, and I fear what it may mean for the Morea if this condition persists.
I will keep watch over him and record what I see. Perhaps time will reveal the truth of this transformation. In the meantime, I shall remain vigilant, for the future of our lands may very well depend on understanding this new Constantine.
— George Sphrantzes
Author note: Chapter 3
