Tagliacozzo, August 23rd, 1268
Conradin's knights seemed to carry all before them. They had driven the Angevins first and second divisions, then when they dispersed to pursue them and loot the French camp the third division of the French army that had remained hidden had ambushed them. It had been a complete disaster for Conradin, with his army destroyed and himself having to escape, only to be captured and handed over to Charles II.
Naples, October 29th, 1268
The executioner's axe fell. Conrad V, known as Conradin, was no more. Charles of Anzou could now feel secure in his new throne. Well mostly so. Manfred's eldest daughter Constance remained out of his dungeons, married to Peter the crown prince of Aragon. And his sister, the Greeks called her Anna instead of Constance, was secure in Constantinople.
Constantinople, December 25th, 1268
Alexandros Komnenos Doukas Vatatzes, had been in the mass for Christmas at Hagia Sophia, with his mother as had been the Imperial family and most of the Queen of Cities aristocracy. At nearly 14 years of age he already made something of a striking figure, apparently both he and his recently murdered cousin shared their grandfather's good looks. He made certain to show obvious and complete respect for the emperor. His mother had made certain that he understood from a young age two things. First that he was son, brother and grandson of emperors. And not just any emperors. The peasantry in the Asian themes, which he was prohibited from visiting, were already venerating his late father as a saint. And his grandfather was the stupor mundi. Second, second that he lived as long as Michael found him useful and did not find him a danger, or at least considered the risk less than the gain of keeping him around. If that calculation altered... Ioannes was still alive. Blinded, imprisoned in a fortress and liable to remain so for the rest of his life. Unless that nosy brat Andronikos thought otherwise when he came of age. Alexandros suppressed a shudder at the thought he could very well end up the same at any moment. The murder of his cousin by Charles made him more useful but possibly also more of a risk. At least the day's celebrations would end at some point and he could be back to his books...
Constantinople, November 8th, 1272
"Andronike, auguste, sy nikas!" The 13 year old just made co-emperor smiled at the crowd proclaiming him august and victorious. His father always more wily looked carefully at the crowd. He didn't have much difficulty noting the young Vatatzes making sure to shout at the top of his lungs. How much of that was real loyalty and how much pretension? Even he could not be certain. The youngster, he was almost 18 by now, was always correct, never giving any sign of disloyalty or ambitions for the purple of his own. Perhaps too correct, could anyone in Vatatzes circumstances really be so loyal? He did show admittedly a burning hatred for the Angevins, had his mother manage to direct all the hate on Charles? Well perhaps, after all he had killed her brother and nephew, what was him blinding Ioannes by comparison? He took one more look at the young man. He was not unsurprisingly in good company with the family of his own nephew Michael Tarchaneiotes, Michael thought well of the martial abilities of the young man who was apparently close friends with his eldest son and Michael's father in law the megas doux Alexios Philanthropenos, Michael had named his youngest son after him last year, seemed to concur. So both clever and a promising soldier. This could be of use. Or could be trouble...
