Diplomacy (3): Reunion with Count Godefroy
Count Godefroy of the March and I met again. This time, not just me—Zoi joined the talks as well. The count employed diplomatic rhetoric, praising Zoi's beauty with impeccably courteous words.
"You are truly radiant, Your Majesty. Today, I realize that the 'pearl of the East' refers not to Constantinople, but to Empress Zoi herself."
Zoi responded to his florid diplomatic flattery with a smile, expressing her thanks. "I appreciate the compliment, Count. But has there been a reply from your emperor?"
Yet Zoi was no easy mark. She cut straight to the point.
"Yes, Your Majesty wishes to purchase the silk immediately."
"And how do you propose to handle payment?"
"Immediate payment would be difficult. With a little grace period, we could settle it right away."
"I see. So the Holy Roman Empire intends to take the goods first and pay later?"
"Regrettably, yes."
It was a response so brazen it bordered on audacity. Normally, one would erupt in anger at such a moment, but Zoi merely smiled, showing no reaction whatsoever. This was precisely what Zoi and I had coordinated in advance. Proposing an alliance first would indirectly admit that the East Roman Empire's internal affairs were in disarray. From the outset, we held the diplomatic high ground. Our goal was to maneuver the Holy Roman Empire into desiring an alliance with us first.
A seasoned diplomat would struggle to achieve this. But Zoi was no ordinary envoy. She had served as imperial treasurer under Emperor Basil II, handling countless nobles. To such a Zoi, Godefroy—merely one noble from a foreign land—was no formidable foe.
Proof of that lay in this prolonged silence. I might have pressed him, demanding, "That makes no sense!" But Zoi chose utter stillness, no reaction at all. Silence is more terrifying than any word or gesture. By blocking all information, leaving the opponent guessing at one's thoughts, it was enough to draw out anyone's impatience.
Godefroy before us was no exception. As Zoi simply smiled without a word, urgency began to creep across his face.
"Can you provide the silk?"
Zoi remained silent. At last, desperation peaking, Godefroy surrendered.
"It seems you have demands. Speak them, and with the full authority granted by His Majesty the Emperor, I shall see them fulfilled."
"We want nothing."
Zoi broke the silence—but her reply caught him off guard, deepening his confusion.
"There's no reason for us to hand over silk to the Holy Roman Empire unconditionally."
"But yesterday, Emperor Rogerius himself said..."
"He said he would gladly provide it for the friendship between our realms—but that holds only if your emperor pays the proper price. Taking silk without payment? That's no different from highway robbery, is it?"
"Robbery? That's an overstatement. We will pay for the silk. Just not now—later."
"How are we supposed to trust that? What if you renege later?"
Godefroy moved to protest, but Zoi gave no quarter.
"Not content with dismissing the possibility that your own people killed those two Holy Roman commanders in our empire, you pinned the blame on two East Roman nobles merely near the camp."
"We had no reason within our ranks to kill our own commanders. In that situation, suspecting shady figures lurking near the barracks was the natural assumption. Besides, weren't they nobles who followed traitors, not the two emperors?"
"Even if they were our enemies, they were undeniably nobles of the East Roman Empire. For a foreign power to brand them culprits without a shred of investigation—that's overstepping your bounds."
Zoi's words were irrefutable. Punishing another country's nobles in their own capital was a grave diplomatic breach. True, the Holy Roman Empire hadn't directly punished Constantine and Michael. But handing them to Ioannikios—the decision-maker—had undeniably influenced Constantine's death. And it had cost Michael an eye, now under our sway. Zoi was needling their arrogant diplomatic conduct.
"Does Empress Zoi wish our two nations to spiral into catastrophe?"
With persuasion failing, Godefroy turned hardline. At his tone, I stepped forward as planned with Zoi.
"Insolent fool! Are you now threatening not only East Rome, but its lawful empress, Zoi?"
I bellowed deliberately, berating him. Godefroy paled, shaking his head vigorously.
"Perish the thought. I merely raised a past matter to prevent it poisoning the peaceful atmosphere between our nations."
"Liar! Haven't you just painted Empress Zoi as the obstacle to our peace?"
"Pl...please calm yourself, Your Majesty."
Zoi stepped forward then, gazing at me as she recited our rehearsed lines.
"Calm down, Emperor Rogerius. I'm sure the count meant no such thing."
"...Very well."
My role was to pressure Godefroy mentally. Judging by his expression, it had worked.
With the commotion resolved, Zoi drove the wedge home, addressing him directly.
"As you see, trust between our nations is still too fragile to build upon—unless there's some breakthrough."
Words of deficient faith. At that, Godefroy seemed struck by inspiration and replied at once.
"There is a way for our realms to foster amity."
"Let's hear it."
"By forging an alliance."
The word alliance at last. I inwardly cheered, but it was too soon for triumph. A mere alliance was just an extension of friendly ties. We needed something tangibly beneficial.
"An alliance. Fine for building amity, but we'll need to verify if it's genuine."
Godefroy grasped her meaning instantly, nodding as if it were obvious.
"What proof would you require?"
"Do you know of the Kingdom of Hungary?"
His face soured at the mention. Small wonder—the Magyars' Hungary was a thorn in the Holy Roman Empire's side too. A regional power bordering the empire, Hungary under Andrew I had once razed the Austrian march of Bavaria. Realizing the threat, Henry III had sought to subjugate them with force. King Peter had appeased the empire with spears and weapons, even pledging vassalage. But Andrew I cast off that yoke upon ascending. Enraged, Henry III dispatched troops, only to suffer repeated defeats near the Danube. Their relations soured into enmity.
Pope Leo IX mediated a peace treaty then. But with Henry III's death and Henry IV's rise—his mother Agnes as regent deeming further war fruitless—they signed an unconditional peace. The conflict was on hold, but such a patch was temporary. It could erupt anew anytime. Longtime foes, the empire and Hungary—no surprise Godefroy, their margrave, recoiled at the name.
"I know it well. That barbarous realm ruled by the Magyars."
He vented open disdain for Hungary. And why not? The Lower Lorraine region—his domain—had sent the most troops and suffered the heaviest losses.
"They covet the Kingdom of Croatia, within East Rome's sphere."
Godefroy instantly caught Zoi's intent: check Hungary diplomatically. Should Hungary swallow Croatia, it would threaten the Holy Roman Empire too. Empire and East Rome—their interests aligned in this exquisite moment. A prime chance to build true amity.
"A fine proposal for our alliance's first step, Your Majesty."
"I'm glad we see eye to eye, Count."
Zoi beckoned her attendant with a gesture. At her call, he handed Godefroy the prepared document.
"This is..."
"A gift for our realms' friendship."
The document listed the quantity of silk destined for the Holy Roman Empire. Godefroy accepted it without hesitation.
"Our nations cast off misunderstanding and join hands for common purpose."
"I believe this alliance will greatly benefit both East Rome and the Holy Roman Empire."
Thus ended the talks. Godefroy, deal sealed, seemed eager to report to his emperor at once; he departed Constantinople immediately after.
Zoi watched him go from the balcony. Smiling, I approached her side.
"I say it every time, but you are truly wicked, my love."
"Wicked? I spare no words for the one I love. Gliké mou."
"The document didn't specify a deadline for the silk."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Zoi flashed a devilish smile. I was grateful, once more, to be on her side.