6,000 soldiers, and that's only counting those who can be called upon at the initial stage of wartime. With such military strength, the Bosphorus Despotate was already considered a medium-to-small power in Eastern Europe; at least Lithuania and the Golden Horde could no longer ignore the Bosporus and comfortably treat it as a mere vassal.
However, for Manuel, formally handling relations with neighboring great powers should still take a back seat to internal reforms for now. After he had basically outlined his initial thoughts on military reform, it was roughly two or three hours past noon that day.
"This should be enough." Looking at the preliminary ideas for military reform he had organized, Manuel felt a deep sense of accomplishment. Although he still had to deal with routine official duties later, fortunately, after several days of diligent work, the workload for today was truly not much; otherwise, he wouldn't have spent so much time planning the reform of the military system.
"My mouth is a bit dry," Before he could finish, someone on his right handed him a cup of clear, delicious grape juice. At this moment, Manuel, being in a relaxed state due to his excellent mood, revealed his true personality, "Ah, thank you so much, this grape juice tastes really good, sweet and refreshing, truly excellent. But why does it have an alcoholic smell…?"
As he spoke, Manuel instinctively looked to his right, only to see his beloved wife, Barbara, standing beside him with a slight smile, wearing a relatively thin white-grey silk dalmatica, with three glass cups filled with what appeared to be grape juice placed beside her left hand.
"Hmm, oh, hey!!!" He was so startled he nearly jumped out of his seat, "Oh, Barbara, when did you come in?"
Seeing his reaction, Barbara playfully stuck out her tongue, "Probably not long after you finished writing your military reform plan." As she spoke, she leaned closer to her dear Little husband. Since it was summer, she wore nothing under her dalmatica except for a soft silk chemise. If one were to get even closer, specifically within less than a finger's width, one could even vaguely see her snow-white skin.
"Is that so…" Although he was quite familiar with her skin before, Manuel still nervously averted his gaze to avoid any unexpected incidents in the room.
"Ah, speaking of which, Barbara, what I just drank was grape juice, right?" Manuel, feeling a bit flushed, tried to change the subject.
"It should be, I guess. Layla and Amber found it while tidying the bedroom. From the packaging, it looks like grape juice, so it should be correct, right? What's wrong?" As she spoke, Barbara's face became a little flushed.
"Ah!" Manuel cried out in dismay, "This is the Machim sweet wine I imported from Peloponnese, aged for nearly 15 years in the cellar! I packaged it in a grape juice style precisely because I was afraid it would be recognized! Oh no!"
"Oh, is that so?" Just as she finished speaking, Barbara happened to drink the remaining wine in the cup.
"Are you listening?" Manuel felt a metaphorical black line slide down his face, "But it's only this little Machim sweet wine, you won't get drunk from it…"
"I don't know if it's because of the weather, but I feel so hot right now." Barbara, with an expression as if she hadn't heard him at all, lay directly in his arms.
"Are you listening?" Manuel felt the metaphorical black line on his face become psychologically even more pronounced.
"Are you really not going to do anything?" Barbara's fair face was slightly flushed from the sweet wine she had drunk. The moment Barbara lay in his arms, Manuel's gaze subtly shifted.
"But this is the room where I handle official business," Manuel muttered softly.
In response, Barbara softly asked him, "Do you want to? Here?"
This time, it was in his office, which made Manuel's heart involuntarily quicken.
And Barbara, in front of him, seemed to sense his thoughts, emboldened by the wine she had just drunk…
This time—
…
While they were "battling" in the room, their attendants, especially the two maids Layla and Amber, vigilantly stood guard outside the door, preventing anyone from disturbing the young couple's good time.
But what you don't want is what you get. While the two of them were still in the room, Justinian Seresnus, who had been sent to Mangup by Constantine, happened to be bringing his foreign affairs report concerning the Caucasus to Manuel. But when he reached about seven or eight Greek feet outside the room, he was blocked by the attendants guarding the door.
"By the Holy Mother, is His Majesty not free right now?" Serenus looked very curiously towards the room door, but seemed to glimpse the intimate actions between a man and a woman.
"Hmm, it couldn't be…" Before he could finish, he was very politely and swiftly ushered away by the servants and attendants, led by Amber.
"Oh, I understand." After leaving there, Serenus thought for a moment, then smiled with sudden realization, muttering to himself, "Such an interesting event must be written in my diary!"
If he had only written this in his diary, it would have been fine, but he got carried away and fell back into his old habit from his time with Constantine.
After arriving in Mangup, he fully utilized his social skills and got along quite well with his peers. This was especially true with Isaac Arno, the current Minister of Finance of the Bosphorus Despotate. So, when Serenus guessed what the respected Caesar was doing, he immediately wanted to share the matter with Arno.
And as he excitedly shared the matter with Arno in the palace, Arno's face suddenly changed, and he tried to open his mouth, wanting to say something, but then was stopped by an unknown factor, quietly closing his slightly opened mouth.
But Serenus was completely oblivious to this and continued to speak volubly.
"And that posture, I swear to the Holy Father, it was absolutely an act of humiliation," he said, getting excited, even proudly waving his left index finger, adding fuel to the fire in a very pleased tone: "She humiliated His Majesty to the point of kneeling and begging for mercy; she must have been treating him like a s*x…"
Before he could finish, the couple, who had been standing behind him, smiling warmly at some point, finally couldn't help but interrupt him in unison, "Damn Serenus, why is your imagination so good!"
Serenus heard the voices, his hair stood on end with tension, and it was a long while before he slowly turned his head. And upon turning, he saw with horror that the Caesar and his wife were standing behind him, radiating warm smiles, though beneath those smiles was an obvious, intense murderous intent.