After an entire night of venting his anger at the Ottoman, Manuel went straight to sleep in his camp, only calming down upon waking in the morning.
When he woke up, he carefully reviewed his actions from the previous night and was surprised to find that this was the most intense and obvious display of his anger he had ever shown.
Previously, when faced with his younger brother's rebellion, he felt more displeasure and frustration; and when confronted by the main force of the Aq Qoyunlu Dynasty's counterattack, he was able to respond calmly out of fear.
Only this time, facing the Ottoman he was about to confront directly, he displayed his anger without any reservation.
Was it truly just anger? Or was it more due to fear?
Manuel did not intend to delve deeper, lest analyzing his own state of mind prevent him from maintaining his current calm.
Now, it seemed fortunate that no one was beside him when he vented his anger; otherwise, if they knew their respected Caesar uttered such vulgarities when encountering the Ottoman, who knew if it would change their opinion of him.
"Fortunately, I didn't give that Ottoman Pasha a definitive reply yesterday, or I wouldn't even have been able to buy time." Thinking of this, Manuel shook his head with a sense of helplessness.
As he pondered how to use a feigned peace talk attitude to stall the Ottoman's Chandler Pasha, his attendant suddenly reported that the Chief Secretary of the Autocratic State, who was accompanying the army, requested an audience.
"Let him in." Manuel was quite eager to hear what advice this important minister under his command might offer him at this moment.
But unfortunately, Caesar had completely overthought it.
Serenus's visit this time was merely to express his regards to his Caesar.
For this, he had even specially brought Apennine snacks, which he had obtained from the Venetians a few days ago, intending to present them to his Caesar with concern.
After understanding his subordinate's intention, Manuel was deeply moved for a moment, preparing to force himself to cheer up after enjoying some breakfast.
"So, Serenus, what are these?" He smiled, inviting the other to sit beside him, and asked gently.
"Reporting to Caesar," Serenus bowed, instructing the servants to open their packaging, "These are macaroni and doughnuts that the Venetians sent to your humble servant a few days ago, said to be of excellent quality.
Especially these macaroni, when dipped in meat sauce, they are truly..."
After hearing these words and seeing the actual items, Manuel, who had originally intended to use this to boost his own morale, felt utterly dismayed.
As soon as he learned that what was brought was macaroni and doughnuts, the young Caesar immediately associated it with some utterly rotten things, and he almost petrified with anger on the spot.
If he hadn't forced himself to think carefully and confirm that this fellow likely had no ill intentions, he would have long since ordered his attendants to accuse the other of disrespect and immediately throw him out of the camp.
"Caesar, Caesar..." Looking at his monarch's subtle expression, Serenus got goosebumps all over, completely unsure if he had done something wrong, and could only softly call out to his Caesar, hoping for a clear answer.
"Ah, it's nothing, nothing." Manuel, finally emerging from his semi-petrified state, looked at his subordinate with a benevolent expression.
However, this gentle look did not reassure Serenus at all; instead, he became even more frightened.
In the end, even after Serenus departed, Manuel still didn't taste a single bite of the snacks he had brought.
While the Bosporus monarch and his minister were staging this farcical comedy in the camp at Guerze, across the Black Sea, in the Bangup Palace, Regent Barbara, who had recently woken from sleep, sat on her bed.
As she habitually stroked the little head of her sleeping beloved daughter Justiana, she uncharacteristically looked towards Sinop with a worried expression.
Regarding her Highness's current demeanor, Amber and Laila, her personal maids who had followed her since Constantinople, had tried many times to offer comfort.
But in the end, they held their tongues.
Ever since she learned that her husband might directly face the Ottoman's blades, the young woman had often shown such an expression.
And this, after all, concerned her Caesar husband; if they spoke rashly, it would likely only have the opposite effect.
After a while, once she was sure the child would not wake up soon, Barbara got out of bed, dressed only in her nightgown, clutching a cross, and for once, prayed sincerely towards the direction where her husband was most likely to be.
"Holy Father above, Holy Mother protect, please ensure Manuel's safety..."
Three days later, the astute Chandler Pasha finally confirmed through various clandestine means that Bosporus's actions over the past few days were, in fact, all attempts to buy time.
After a face-to-face confrontation with the Bosporus Caesar at the third day's banquet, the Ottoman envoy, filled with pent-up anger, rushed back to Brusa that very night without looking back, to report the matter to his Sultan.
"Caesar, aren't we going to stop this guy? Or send some men to tamper with things on the road, so this Turk bastard dies in various road conditions?" Looking at the Ottoman envoy safely departing in his carriage, Tukharovsky asked his question with great confusion.
"Commander, Caesar is a virtuous monarch with a knight's honor, how could he commit such a despicable act?" Dungar retorted, quite displeased with the other.
As the two argued, Manuel turned his head sternly, staring at them, as if saying, "Stop spreading rumors and fabricating lies."
Indeed, under their monarch's gaze, both abandoned the argument and instead listened attentively to the explanation from their respected Caesar.
"Stopping them or killing them on the road, while satisfying, would not only be useless for the impending escalation of war but would also provoke the Ottoman Sultan to retaliate fiercely against us," Manuel slowly explained.
"So, prepare yourselves to fight against more troublesome Turks." At this, Caesar said no more, but issued a military order, commanding everyone to prepare for defense and a strong assault.
As for Manuel's heart, it held a different feeling.
To boost morale, he even hypnotized himself:
Mere Murad, watch me crush you in 1434! Ottoman? I will ensure none of you return!
Another three days passed, and in the Brusa Palace of the Ottoman Sultanate, Ottoman Sultan Murad II finally learned of the attitude of these Black Sea coastal Romans.
"These Romans still have some imperial pride, but that's all it is.
Do they truly consider themselves the Roman Empire and Romans of the past?"
The Sultan merely snorted coldly, "They are but the refuse of an era.
Their swords will break before us, as they always have."