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“How could He?” Euphrosane said wretchedly. “My husband died young, before he had achieved half the things he could have, and I did not even bear a child! Now I am afflicted with an illness so ugly no other man will want me. How could God love me? I am doing something terribly wrong, and I don’t even know what it is.”
“Yes, you are,” A
Euphrosane stared at her in wonder. “I understand,” she said, the confusion gone. “I shall repent, immediately.”
“And use the medicine as well,” A
“I will! I will!” Euphrosane promised.
A week later, Euphrosane was completely healed, which made A
She went to report to Zoe, as asked, and this time she had to wait nearly half an hour before being admitted. She knew the moment she saw Zoe’s face that she was already aware of Euphrosane’s recovery. Quite probably she also knew how much A
“What did you think of her?” Zoe asked casually. Today she wore dark blue and gold. With her warm hair and eyes, the effect was superb. There were times when A
Zoe was waiting, her expression impatient. “Is your opinion of Euphrosane so bad you ca
“Gullible,” A
Zoe’s golden eyes opened wide. “So you bite,” she said with amusement. “Be careful. You ca
The sweat broke out on A
“Never,” Zoe replied, her eyes bright as faceted gems. “Or if you lie, then do it so well that I never find out.”
A
“Interesting that you are wise enough to say so,” Zoe replied softly, almost a purr. “There is something I would like you to do for me. If a merchant named Cosmas Kantakouzenos should ask your opinion of Euphrosane’s character, as he might, would you be as candid with him? Tell him she is honest, guileless, and obedient.”
“Of course,” A
Zoe walked over to the window and stared out at the complex pattern of rooftops. “I suppose you mean his death,” she said dryly. “Bessarion’s life was uninteresting. He married my daughter, but he was a bore. Pious and chilly.”
“And he was killed for that?” A
Zoe turned around slowly, her eyes sweeping up and down A
A
A servant’s footsteps passed audibly across the floor in the next room.
Deliberately, A
Zoe saw some change in her but did not comprehend it. She gave the slightest shrug of one shoulder. “It was not an isolated incident,” she remarked. “A year before his death he was attacked in the street. We never learned if it was an attempt at robbery, or one of his own bodyguards, perhaps, seizing a chance to stab him in the scuffle but making a mess of it. He was cut only once, but it was quite deep.”
“Why would one of his own bodyguards do that?” A
“I have no idea,” Zoe answered, then saw instantly from A
“I need to know friends and enemies,” A
“Of course,” Zoe said tartly. “He was of one of the old imperial families, and led the cause against union with Rome. Many people placed their hopes in him.”
“And now in whom?” A
There was a flash of humor in Zoe’s eyes. “And you imagine this was a bid for sainthood. Or that Bessarion is some kind of martyr?”
A
“Very wise,” Zoe said softly with a flicker of appreciation, an i
Eight
WHEN ANASTASIUS WAS GONE, ZOE REMAINED ALONE IN the room, standing at the window. She never tired of the view. Up that shining strip of water had sailed Jason and his Argonauts in search of the Golden Fleece. He had found Medea and betrayed her. Her revenge had been terrible. Zoe could well understand. She was nearly ready to exact her own revenge on the Kantakouzenos. Cosmas was Zoe’s age. It was his father, Andreas, who had told the crusaders where the vial was with the blood of Christ in it, in order to save himself. Dead now, he was beyond Zoe’s reach, let God burn him in hell. But Cosmas was alive and well and now here again in Constantinople, prospering. He had much to lose. She watched him as she would watch a fruit ripening, read to be plucked.
Her eyes moved to the golden bowl on the table. It was full of apricots, like liquid amber touched with the red of the sun. She picked one up and bit into it, crushing its flesh between her teeth and letting the juice run over her lips onto her chin.
Euphrosane’s grandfather Georgios Doukas had helped steal icons from the Hagia Sophia, the Mother Church of Byzantium. He had even helped them take the Holy Shroud of Christ itself. Its loss to the Orthodox faith could never be forgiven. Now the coarse, irreverent fingers of the Latins would hold it. Zoe’s whole body shuddered at the thought, as if she herself had been touched intimately by something foul.
It was a stroke of good fortune that Euphrosane had fallen ill with a disease of the skin that her own physician could not heal. It had enabled Zoe to send the eunuch physician to her, and he in turn would get Cosmas to trust her.