Chapter 48

Cesar and Baldwin could not refuse Damara's invitation.

Although Baldwin would rather stay with his mother who he hadn't seen for a long time—after all, wanting to meet in the future would inevitably lead to a lot of criticism (because the marriage between Amalric I and the Countess was already illegal), and perhaps he would be scolded by the King—and Amalric I was impatient to conquer Egypt and wash away his shame. Who knows when the army would set off from Al-Azar.

But early this morning, Balian came to inform him that today the Countess was going to visit Princess Sibylla, so please go play by yourself—no matter how much Baldwin missed his mother, he couldn't deprive his sister of the time to be with his mother, so he could only... go play by himself.

He invited Cesar to play chess together. This was a rare leisure time they had in these few months. Even playing chess, they didn't want to be too painstaking. As soon as Baldwin touched the dice, he found that the pieces on the chessboard were almost full.

"This game of Shatranj has been played in a mess by us," Baldwin sighed: "If Bohemond teacher saw it, he would press us one by one on the windowsill and beat our butts with a wooden stick."

Cesar felt the same way. These days Baldwin's courses were restored, and he finally enjoyed the true treatment of David, Abigail, William, Guy... these sons of dukes or counts—that is, being beaten by dukes and counts.

There was no tenderness in the education of this era, and there was no minor protection law.

Even if there were, a blessed child, even if he pressed the age limit, that is, nine years old, would be regarded as an adult in reserve. Whether going hunting or praying, he had to do it flawlessly, without a single mistake, otherwise it would be "sorry for God and the saint's favor"...

Baldwin had long been accustomed to the strictness of the teachers. Because of his special status, he didn't go to other lords' small castles at the age of seven, but stayed in the Holy Cross Castle. Instead, his father's vassals sent their sons over to be attendants.

But the things an attendant should do, since he was six years old, not one was missing. Things like serving the lord to dress, tidying the room, running errands, cleaning the castle, raising dogs, feeding pigs, except for cleaning the toilet, he had done almost everything. These complicated chores were not to torture him, but just to force a "child pampered by women" to understand how to obey and obey as soon as possible.

Until he was seven, he should have classes. The teachers were all familiar faces—he could often see them in his father's court, and occasionally his father Amalric I would also come to teach a few classes.

What made Baldwin regret most was that there was no hostess in the Holy Cross Castle, so courses like etiquette, poetry, and dressing that should be the responsibility of the hostess had to face a male teacher...

Sometimes, Baldwin couldn't help but fantasize, if his parents hadn't divorced and Countess Agnes was still the hostess of the castle, what a wonderful thing it would be! Even if the little attendant made a mistake, the hostess would also beat his butt with a stick, but the feeling must be different!

"Now sister and mother must be having lunch together." Baldwin stared at the sunlight outside the window: "These days the castle is full of all kinds of food. Byzantine merchant ships have sent more.

What do you think they will eat? Chickpeas, grilled fish with cheese, or fruit boiled in wine? I don't know if Mother likes Byzantine food. These days the castle's chefs have studied quite a few dishes with fish and chicken as materials to welcome the Byzantine princess..."

He sat cross-legged, looking at Cesar picking up the chess pieces, while fantasizing about how his mother and sister were harmonious and laughing, while sourly worrying about whether his mother would throw him behind her head. After all, they were all women, and they must have more to say.

What the prince didn't know was that after hugging and crying, the Countess mentioned the oolong marriage—the atmosphere in the room immediately turned sharply downward.

The Countess might be a bit too eager, but this was entirely to make up for the previously missing education—she left the castle when Sibylla was only six and Baldwin was three, and Amalric I also refused her request to leave the maid beside Sibylla.

She didn't expect Amalric I at all. The King had an heir, and he was not Baldwin II.

And the facts were as bad as she expected—Sibylla shouldn't have been too eager about the marriage contract privately agreed upon by Amalric I and Louis VII, and shouldn't have instigated Abigail to buy the guide and sell Count Etienne to the Turks.

Sibylla still wanted to deny and argue—the Countess was almost laughed at.

Evidence?! Don't people have eyes, ears, and brains? They convict you in their hearts, but they don't need to say it in their mouths. But at a certain moment, this hidden danger will inevitably break out—no, perhaps don't have to wait. Before, when she occasionally met Duke Bohemond of Antioch, that fox's smile was enough to be sarcastic.

No matter how much Abigail didn't like his father, he was his heir.

Baldwin contracted leprosy. Amalric I, even if he wanted to fight against the churches of the two places, had to protect his inheritance rights. Abigail was a fool, but at least his body was healthy and his limbs were complete. Would Bohemond be happy to see him being played by a woman?

Even without saying the matter of Abigail buying the guide, from the Countess's standpoint, Sibylla's previous approach offended a large group of people.

Yes, if a noble girl is too reserved, people will complain that she is an Athena or Artemis (both are virgin goddesses who swore celibacy), but if she is a Coronis (sea nymph) who chases the sun god at all costs, guess what people will say?

Not to mention she clearly gave two completely different attitudes.

"Men rarely distinguish right from wrong. They only talk about success and failure.

You set up a cold, arrogant shield against David, Abigail, and other noble sons. This is right. Not only will the fire of love in their hearts not be extinguished, but it will burn even more crazily, burning them so that they can't sleep.

But you shouldn't have exposed your soft abdomen to Count Etienne. Of course, you can say this is the marriage agreed upon by Amalric I and Louis VII, he will be your future husband, the father of your children, you should be obedient, submissive, and make him satisfied.

But, Sibylla, you are not married yet, and the marriage contract has not even been announced. Even if Count Etienne didn't refuse, would he treat you like a pearl and treasure after marriage?

He got you so easily.

You should be cold as ice. Even after marriage, you should let him chase you, not you to cater to him!

Now it's good, how you treat Count Etienne, everyone sees it. They will ask you for the same treatment as Count Etienne. What? Can't do it? Then they can't do it either—no matter what you ask for.

The only idiot might be that Abigail of Antioch," the Countess finally concluded angrily: "This will be your trump card, but you wasted it on venting your anger... Well, now they won't say you are Coronis, they will only say you are Medea...

Medea lost her mind because Eros's golden arrow shot into her chest. What about you, what made you crazy?! A title of Count's wife?"

This sentence led to the end of the meeting being fixed on Sibylla's insulting words—she said that the Countess was no longer the hostess of the castle, nor her father's wife, and had no right to teach her, accuse her...

The Countess gave her a slap, knocked her to the ground, and walked out of the room with her robe.

Baldwin didn't know that his mother and sister had completely turned against each other. He was still happily and sadly thinking about how to average the spare time of his mother with his sister.

Damara came to find Cesar. Baldwin felt that there shouldn't be a second Abigail in the castle, so he directly asked her to come to his room.

As soon as she saw Prince Baldwin, Damara was speechless—she came to report the news. The storm between the Countess and Princess Sibylla might form a storm circle. She had to remind Cesar to be careful—Uncle John said, she was Cesar's protector in the castle!

(Damara held her head high)

"What's wrong?" Baldwin waited for a long time without hearing a sound: "Is there anything difficult? Say it, what is it that Cesar and I can't solve? If it really doesn't work, I will take you to see my father. You just need to kneel down and hug his knees, and cry and beg. No matter what you want, the King can always give it to you."

Damara glanced at Cesar behind the prince with the corner of her eye. Cesar shook his head with the smallest amplitude and the fastest speed.

"I... I want," Damara raised her finger, and suddenly a flash of inspiration! "I want to go out and buy something!"

Baldwin was stunned for a moment, such a simple request, but then he saw Cesar, "Oh oh, right," he smiled and said: "Cesar will be your knight. This is his honor. You should ask him to accompany you."

Cesar looked at Baldwin. Damara immediately requested Baldwin to go with them.

Baldwin was immersed in the warmth of his mother at this time and didn't notice anything unusual. Hearing Damara say this, he just thought they were shy, or were protecting him.

He hadn't left the castle for a long time. He was a leper. If he weren't the only heir of Amalric I, he should wear coarse hemp clothes, live in the desert, occasionally walk on the road, and approach the crowd, he should shake a bell to let them avoid in time.

But now he had received the blessing... His father's ministers and generals were all impatient to kiss his hand—perhaps he came to the street, and it wouldn't cause any panic.

"We can dress up as Byzantines," Damara suggested: "Many Byzantines have come recently."

This proposal was agreed by Baldwin and Cesar. Anyway, among the gifts of the Byzantine princess, there were many clothes suitable for boys of this age to wear. Damara was the daughter of the current Gerard family head, and of course she also received a suitable gift. They helped each other and dressed up quickly.

Byzantine clothing continued the wide-clothing style of ancient Rome. Although it was magnificent, the main direction of effort was still on the materials. The styles were almost the same, and even men and women were not obvious. Inside was a long robe with or without sleeves, and outside was a large shawl. The shawl might also be embroidered with a piece of cloth full of embroidery and jewelry, but since they were still children, they could ignore it.

Damara also asked the servant to bring three messenger bags. The style of the messenger bag was exactly the same as the large handkerchief she gave Cesar.

Her embroidery skills were already good now, but no matter how good they were, they couldn't carry the prosperity of the eyes. Baldwin took a look and almost fell backward, but a knight could not refuse a noble girl's gift. He could only turn his head and whisper to Cesar to pick the most inconspicuous one for him, and then hang it behind his back.

"I also just want to go to the market to see." Baldwin said happily: "I want to pick a gift for Mother." Although his storage room was full of all kinds of expensive gifts, he always felt that something was lacking. What was lacking? Perhaps it was in the heart.

Cesar called Longinus and asked him if he had Byzantine clothes. Longinus laughed as soon as he heard it: "I have, but don't need it. That kind of clothes is not suitable for fighting. Don't worry, it's common for three little Byzantine nobles to be followed by knights wearing leather armor or chain mail. I have also received similar employment before."

He lowered his head and carefully looked at the three children covered in jewelry: "Very good," mainly because this dressing could reduce the degree of being recognized, "I will dress according to the usual, it is better instead."

No surcoat identifying the identity indicates that he is just a wandering knight, and needing to hire a wandering knight indicates that these three young Byzantines have some status, but the status is not so high that knights from the knight order come out to protect them.

With his reminder, several other knights who were ordered to protect also wore the surcoat inside out. They left the castle. Cesar looked at the river for a while, watched the road for a while, and looked at the sky for a while.

"Is there any problem?" Baldwin turned and asked. They came out this time, and didn't even ride the ponies Pollux and Castor. Pollux and Castor would definitely be angry if they knew, but this was also a helpless thing. Since Baldwin received the blessing, Amalric I tried his best to create momentum for him, and even the ponies Pollux and Castor were said to be angels disguised as merchants.

Now the whole Holy Land knows that Prince Baldwin has two ponies, one black and one white, with stars on their foreheads.

"Do you have this feeling?" When in the castle, this feeling was not very obvious, but out of the castle, Cesar felt: "The world is like being washed." It is indescribable transparency and fineness. Looking at it, it is like changing from rough particles to delicate smearing, and the colors are also much brighter.

"Otherwise?" Baldwin whispered. He knew Cesar was very smart and had quite a lot of accumulation, but he was always stuck on some common sense: "We received the saint's favor and God's blessing. The physique will be greatly improved. After a few years, the gap between us and ordinary people will be further widened." Otherwise, why do people value the "selection ceremony" so much?

Cesar thought of Count Etienne. He was equivalent to falling from the tenth floor. Although he had a guide as a shield and cushion, and had bear corpses, tree roots, and stones as buffers, he only broke a thigh bone—he was a bit surprised at that time, thinking he met a European. Of course, there was a lucky component, but luck was not in that fall, but Count Etienne was also "chosen"...

Right, even with the cleric's treatment, Count Etienne's healing speed was faster than ordinary knights. When he could walk around the castle, his few attendants who were not blessed were still shouting and screaming on the bed.

——————

"My lord, shouldn't come at this time."

"You are wrong," a Saracen wrapped in a headscarf said: "There is no better time than this."

(End of chapter)