The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 98 The Big Wedding

In early December of 1182 in the Julian calendar, the warm winter sun of the Mediterranean bathed the port of Jaffa in a pale golden hue.

Princess Isabella's carriage, escorted by elite Jerusalem knights, slowly entered the port.

The key figure in the wedding procession—Count Raymond III of Tripoli—was the first to dismount, preparing to hand over matters to the port officials. Latin Archbishop Heraclius, holding his scepter, stood solemnly to the side, overseeing the transport of the accompanying sacred relics.

"Guy?" Earl Raymond spotted Guy standing upright with Princess Sibylla's support at a glance. He walked up to him with a hint of doubt. "Weren't you recuperating from your injuries? You can let the servants handle the handover."

"My legs aren't very flexible after sitting for a long time," Guy said with a complicated expression. "Count, let's talk about business. The supplies needed for this voyage and the gifts to present to the Roman Emperor are all prepared. You can check them at any time."

Raymond squinted, scrutinizing the unfamiliar Guy before him. Only after confirming that it was indeed Guy did he, full of suspicion, lead his entourage to inventory the goods.

Not far away, Lyon took in the whole scene, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips.

He handed the rolled-up parchment scroll to Jacob beside him, who deftly slipped it into his satchel and chuckled softly, "I knew you never had good intentions. So, all that time you tricked me into joining the Temple Order was to work with your Assassin friend from the inside?"

"Uncle, you're still too superficial and narrow-minded. How can this be called deception?" Lyon laughed. "Winning over Guy is just the first step. We have dirt on Gerald, and you, Uncle, with your Komnenos name and your eloquence, could easily sideline the Grand Master and, with the support of your brothers, become the military commander-in-chief of the Knights Templar."

Accord gave Leon a knowing look, patted him affectionately on the shoulder, and praised, "Good nephew, it's no wonder I've doted on you since you were little."

Zahir remained silent throughout, but his heart was in turmoil.

Assassins? Friends? That's a chilling thought!

This is terrifying! This kid is unfathomable. He suddenly realized that his previous defeat at the hands of this kid was not unjust at all.

Just as he was in shock, Leon suddenly turned his head and his eyes met Leon's.

"Zakari, what do you think?"

Zahir's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly composed himself, lowering his eyes respectfully: "Your Highness, just now... the sea breeze was a bit noisy, and I didn't hear what you were talking about."

"I see. Alright then." Leon nodded in satisfaction, then said to Jacob and Zahir at the same time, "Let's go see the princess."

Princess Isabella, supported by her mother, Queen Mary, and her maids, stepped out of the carriage.

When she saw Lyon approaching, she managed to nod and greet him with the composure of a princess, but her slender fingers nervously twisted the hem of her dress.

"Are you nervous?" Leon asked gently.

Isabella nodded honestly, her voice barely audible: "Mmm..."

"Do you still have that little glass mirror I gave you?" Leon asked again.

"Huh?" Isabella was startled, her face instantly filled with panic, her eyes reddening as if she were about to cry. "I...I think...I forgot it in Jerusalem..."

Seeing this, Queen Mary was both distressed and amused. She took a small box carefully wrapped in soft cloth from her personal maid, gently opened it, and inside was the small glass mirror.

"I knew you'd be so forgetful when you're nervous, so I've already packed it all up for you." She gently wiped away the tears from her daughter's eyes and softly comforted her, "Back then, when I married the late king, I was just like you, crying and sobbing."

Maria gently took her daughter's trembling hand, called Lyon, and led them to the stone railing by the harbor.

The afterglow of the setting sun cast long shadows of the three people, swaying gently in the Mediterranean breeze.

“Look at the sea, Isabella,” Maria said, pointing to the shimmering water. “Fifteen years ago, I also came here by ship from Constantinople. I was only a year older than you then, couldn’t speak a word of Frankish, and only knew that I was going to marry a Jerusalem king I had never met.”

Isabella looked up at her mother with teary eyes and curiosity. Maria rarely spoke of the past.

"On my first night in Jaffa, I hid in my room and cried, feeling like the whole world was against me." A nostalgic smile appeared on Maria's lips. "Until the late king himself brought me a plate of grapes and citrus juice, and said to me in broken Greek: 'These are the sweetest fruits and drinks of the Holy Land. I hope they will make your troubles disappear and fill you with sweetness.'"

Maria gently stroked her daughter's cheek: "Remember, the wisdom and courage of Komnen and the Jerusalem royal family flow in your blood. Although Basilius of Rome is young and may seem too unfamiliar to you, he is your brother's close friend. This is not a cold political marriage, but a marriage that strengthens family ties."

Just then, horns sounded from the direction of the harbor, announcing that the fleet's final resupply and handover were complete. The squire sent by Earl Raymond respectfully reported, "Your Highness, Your Majesty the Queen Mother, Sir Guy has prepared a banquet at the castle."

Maria adjusted her daughter's veil one last time and whispered, "Get some rest tonight. Tomorrow, when you stand at the bow of the ship and look out over Constantinople, you will understand that this is not a farewell, but a new beginning."

As night fell, the banquet hall of Jaffa Castle was brightly lit with candles.

Guy broke with his usual practice of letting his wife Sibylla handle everything and, for the first time ever, personally presided over the farewell banquet, even ordering the preparation of dishes that combined Frankish and Greek flavors.

Maria couldn't help but look at Guy with new respect, someone she had always had a cold relationship with. She also noticed that while Guy's tone was still sharp when he spoke to Earl Raymond, his attitude was noticeably less hostile than before.

When the topic turned to the king's recent push for a naval fleet, Guy, who had previously remained silent, even took the initiative to say: "Jaffa port can provide supplies to the kingdom's fleet at any time; it is the duty of a vassal."

This statement made Count Raymond glance at him a few more times, and whispered to Archbishop Heraclius beside him, wondering if the guy had been possessed.

The banquet ended quickly, and Isabella and her mother, led by Princess Sibylla, headed to their room. Lyon stood up, about to lead Jacob back to his room, when Archbishop Heraclius suddenly came over and stopped him.

"Your Highness, you can't rest yet!" Heraclius suddenly pulled out a thick, brick-like book, *The Treatise on Ceremonies*, from some subspace and shoved it into Lyon's arms, brooking no argument. "Your Highness, you will be representing the King at the wedding, so you must be familiar with the wedding proceedings! Please come with me to the church. You are not allowed to sleep until you have memorized *The Treatise on Ceremonies*!"

Lyon looked at the thick tomes before him, his face immediately showing distress. He sighed, "Ah? Archbishop, it's so late, you shouldn't do this!"