The Venetian Doge's orders were quickly relayed to the relevant high-ranking officials, including Falero, who was temporarily serving in Theodoro.
December 24, 1427, Christmas Eve ① —
The Gavras Family of Theodoro was preparing for this year's Christmas. Although the budget had been significantly cut due to the father and son's grand plan, much to Isaac's displeasure, he still feigned an understanding attitude after his parents' reasonable explanations. This 'little adult' act almost made Manuel laugh, and Maria couldn't hold back, directly mocking her not-so-sensible brother.
Everything was so peaceful and serene. The fireplace in the Gavras Palace crackled with the sound of burning wood; the citizens living in Mangup sang hymns of prayer, praising the sublimity and greatness of the Holy Father and Mother; warm fires also burned in the castles of minor nobles, dispelling the winter cold with good meals; even farmers and serfs ate black bread in their small huts, praising saints whose identities they didn't even know.
However, the outskirts of Kaffa presented a different scene. Due to the Tatars' plundering during the autumn harvest, they not only failed to collect enough grain to celebrate Christmas the next day but also had to pay high taxes. In this winter, a considerable number of orthodox farmers were driven to despair.
But the important figures within the city seemed completely unaffected. They enjoyed various delicacies made from grains transported from the mainland, preparing to lavishly celebrate the Lord's holiness and grandeur the next day. It was as if the starving farmers had nothing to do with them.
In the afternoon of this day, an unexpected guest approached Kaffa.
"Your Highness... Miss, it's Christmas Eve tonight." A young maid, dressed quite elegantly, looked at her mistress with uneasy gray eyes.
"Amber, you don't understand. Those scoundrels who like to arbitrarily rename others deserve severe punishment!"
"Miss, it's not because you yourself came up with..." Another blue-eyed maid, dressed similarly to Amber, countered somewhat helplessly, but her words were cut off by their mistress before she could finish.
"No, Layla, I'm doing this with good reason!"
The beautiful young girl, her face hidden behind a white veil, angrily argued with her maids, but in reality, she knew that the time she had snuck out this time was indeed a bit long. She finally conceded, "Alright, I'll just go see Tauris, and then I'll go back after I'm done."
"Tauris, where is that?" The maid named Amber asked in confusion.
"It's Crimea!" The girl was almost exasperated, her dark brown eyes nearly rolling at her maids. "You're so ignorant! I told you to study properly."
"Speaking of which, shouldn't your future husband be in Crimea?" Layla seemed to recall something.
The girl straightforwardly doused her enthusiasm, "Yes, but it's just a small, poor Principality. I don't think I should have any expectations."
"Besides, my fiancé is only one year older than me. He might not even be fully developed yet," the girl said carelessly.
"I don't think you have the right to say that, Miss," Amber said with a slight chuckle, looking at her mistress's chest.
"I... I will... develop," the girl's face flushed, but she couldn't speak clearly.
Thus, the women on the ship chatted animatedly, a cheerful atmosphere filling the air, as the ship sailed towards Kaffa. They planned to use it as a port city to stay for a while.
At this time, Theodoro was already filled with festive joy, but those at the very top of the Principality were somewhat restless, for they did not know what the final outcome would be.
The next day, Christmas night —
After a day of celebration, the cold touch seemed to be driven away. The stoves in every household still burned after dinner, radiating warm light and heat. Peace and tranquility enveloped the Principality. Regardless of status, everyone prayed in their hearts to the omnipresent Holy Father, wishing for this moment to last forever.
But Lord, what is the price?
Late at night, Manuel, riding through the darkness to the Prince's palace, pondered this question on the way.
Why did he choose this path? Did he truly understand the dangers of this direction? Was his stubbornness, relying on knowledge from his previous life, merely a form of arrogance?
The cold wind blew, mixed with ice and snow, making Manuel shiver. He suddenly felt cut off from the warmth of Christmas, but it was precisely because of this that he scoffed at himself: "Now that the arrow is on the string, why am I becoming indecisive? Since I've already made a choice, there's no turning back! The rise or fall of the Principality rests on this one move!"
Upon reaching the palace, he found that his father had been waiting there for a long time. A little while later, the remaining key officials also arrived.
"Everyone is here. I will confirm the key matters one last time," Alexius said with a solemn expression, scanning them.
Everyone reported that they were fully prepared and only needed an order to act. Only the acting admiral from Venice cautiously reminded, "Currently, the Principality's navy is sufficient to temporarily cut off communication between Kaffa and Genoa's mainland, but given our foundation, I believe we can only, and must, achieve a quick victory against Kaffa." Falero said cautiously.
Finally, Manuel briefly summarized the current strength comparison and situation of both sides to his father and the key officials, then concluded, "In short, we must take Kaffa, not only quickly but also by leveraging the existing discontent within their city. We must enter the city as rulers, not as conquerors."
Alexius nodded gravely, and finally, he made the decisive statement: "Proceed according to our planned strategy. Psychological warfare is paramount. Remember, everyone, the battle for the city has already begun."
After everyone left to attend to their respective duties, Manuel, who had deliberately stayed behind, asked his father with some worry, "Father, if we fail..."
"Then Theodoro may very well cease to exist in this world," Alexius said with a helpless smile.
...
"My child, you truly are... The plan to attack Kaffa was formulated by you, and the strategy to capture Kaffa was proposed by you. Why are you so indecisive at this moment? Manuel, I know what you're thinking, but you must remember, if you want to gain something, you must be prepared to give up everything you have. If you want to avoid making mistakes, then you can only do nothing."
After listening, Manuel's gaze gradually became resolute. When he finally left, he no longer spoke any disheartening words but instead nodded solemnly to his father.
History had arrived at a crossroads at this moment, though no one at the time realized it.
The next day at dusk, in distant Constantinople —
"Sfrantzis, where will Rome go next?" Constantine Palaiologos, then 22 years old, looked at the ship bound for Morea with a sense of confusion, asking his close friend George Sphrantzes, who was beside him, with a troubled mind.
"Your Highness, I'd love to tell you a lie about a bright future, but I'm sorry, I cannot. I only hope that, with our abilities, we can keep this broken ship afloat for another generation." Sfrantzis responded to his lord with a sigh. He was 27 this year, and this was the seventh year of his close friendship with Constantine.
"Is that so?" Constantine smiled helplessly, but his smile, mixed with the lingering sunset and the signs of decay on the Theodosian Walls, appeared particularly desolate.
"Your Highness, it's time to depart. The ship is ready." One of Constantine's personal servants looked at his bewildered lord, his heart filled with urgency.
Constantine finally nodded in agreement and boarded the small cog moored in the Golden Horn. After the ship began to sail from the Sea of Marmara, he finally couldn't help but look back in confusion at Constantinople, where he had lived before. In the afterglow of the sunset, both the city and the ship were filled with scattered, shimmering golden light.
This day was December 26, 1427.
① Before the Gregorian calendar was promulgated in 1582, the Julian calendar was common throughout Europe, for both Catholic and orthodox. Christmas during this period was the same day for both.