Chapter 926 - 149: Reunion
Jaffa City.
The ironworker, Belian, was instructing people on digging a canal. He was dressed in tattered linen clothes, barefoot in the mud, unconcerned with the dignity of the nobility.
Under his leadership, whether Frankish immigrants, Saracen residents, or local Syrians, Imperial remnants, despite speaking different languages and having different beliefs, were united under Belian’s guidance at this moment.
Princess Sibylla of Jaffa, looking at this royal official sent by her brother to assist her, had a somewhat complicated expression.
She understood very well the significance of Baldwin IV’s actions, which were merely to have him marry into the Ibelin family, forming a solid political alliance.
Knight Stephen, Sibylla’s personal guard, earnestly said, "Your Highness, he’s an outstanding young man. If you could be with him, I believe you would receive the heartfelt blessings of many people."
"Indeed."
Justice, loyalty, kindness, bravery—the eight virtues of a knight seemed perfectly manifested in this ironworker and young knight of illegitimate birth.
"If I had met him a year earlier, I might have been delighted. He’s humble, tall, handsome, and comes from a wealthy family, a better marriage prospect than William. In comparison, Guy from the Lusignan family, chosen by my mother, is but a belligerent bumpkin."
Although Belian was from an ironworker background, Baron Goffrey had petitioned Baldwin IV to legitimize his illegitimacy. Nowadays, Belian was the rightful young master of Beirut, Asuf, and Ibelin.
Their union would not disgrace Princess Sibylla’s status and would form a powerful political alliance to resist the pressures within the Kingdom.
Her gaze swept over the Gwent card board on the table, the card box, the full set of leather-bound "Demon Hunter," "Song of Winter and Summer" on the bookshelf, and the silver-white full-body plate armor on the weapon rack in the corridor.
She sighed softly:
"Do you know, Stephen, my brother intends to pass the throne to him."
Stephen was stunned for a moment before reacting: "Who? His Majesty Losa?"
"That’s right. He personally wrote me a letter, explaining his inner thoughts."
Sibylla gave a bitter smile: "He’s my own brother, sharing the same blood, yet he doesn’t trust me to govern this country properly—he trusts that outsider Losa more. I don’t understand what kind of magic power he has to gain so much trust from people?"
"Hasn’t His Majesty’s condition already improved? Why suddenly consider the issue of succession?"
Stephen felt uneasy. Previously, when King Baldwin was seriously ill, the succession issue had thrown the entire Kingdom of Jerusalem into chaos, and just as stability was about to return, His Majesty unexpectedly opened this Pandora’s box again.
Sibylla shook her head: "He didn’t tell me."
Knight Stephen’s demeanor shifted: "Your Highness, His Majesty Losa is not the heir to the Jerusalem throne. Even if His Majesty intends to pass the throne to him, many will surely oppose it. Moreover, His Majesty Losa has yet to marry, if he were to..."
Before he could finish, Sibylla impatiently waved her hand.
She wouldn’t tell Stephen that she had long ago proposed to unite with Losa, to jointly rule Jerusalem. After all, back then, Losa, who hadn’t yet gained his current power, had refused without hesitation.
"He wouldn’t agree. If he did, he would’ve stayed in Constantinople to become the Emperor of the Eastern Empire."
Knight Stephen found it somewhat inconceivable. He didn’t know who between the legendary most beautiful woman of Christendom and his own Princess was more beautiful, but he felt that either of them was an irresistible allure for any man.
"I can hardly fathom His Majesty Losa’s thoughts. Perhaps this is the difference between us ordinary people and saints like him."
"Saint?"
Sibylla snorted softly: "I find the scenes describing men and women in his books quite vivid, and he’s often surrounded by many alluring witches. If he’s a saint, then I’m the Magdalene of..."
"Your Highness, mind your words!"
Stephen was startled: "If such words were heard by others, who knows what kind of turmoil it would cause."
Although Isabella was still young, perhaps due to the bloodline of the Komnenos Family’s innate political talent, she was still a strong contender for Sibylla’s position as heir. At the very least, the noble faction previously hoped to introduce a noble from their camp to marry Isabella, to jointly rule Jerusalem.
He continued: "Your Highness, although His Majesty has chosen His Majesty Losa for the Kingdom’s succession, the issue is still unresolved, and you must not lose heart prematurely."
"Forget it, Stephen. You don’t know what kind of person my brother is. Although he rarely makes decisions, once he decides, no one can change it."
Sibylla gave a bitter smile. Competing with Losa for that position, she had no confidence at all.
At this time, a soldier came running in: "Your Highness, a group of light cavalry has arrived outside. They demand you prepare for their reception."
"Demand my reception?"
Sibylla, who was already in a foul mood, furrowed her brows: "Tell them to get lost. Jaffa City does not entertain the uninvited."
"Uh, Your Highness, you’d better see the letter they delivered. They claim to be scouts just exploring the path, with their main force having recently crossed the Sinai Corridor."
"They came by land? Are they the Egyptian Crusaders?"
"Yes, and they also claim that His Majesty Losa is leading a force of eight thousand elite soldiers, hoping to receive supplies and accommodation from Your Highness in Jaffa City."
"Outrageous!"
Sibylla ground her teeth: "He wants to seize my throne in Jerusalem and now wants me to provide food and lodging for his army. How can there be such shameless people in this world? What’s he, a Saint Losa?"
"Princess Sibylla."
"Your Majesty."
This long-absent royal princess bowed gracefully.
"Welcome to Jaffa."
Behind her, the young ironworker nervously stepped forward: "Your Majesty, may God bless you."
Losa made the sign of the cross in front of himself: "And may God bless you, Sir Belian."
"Princess Sibylla."
"Your Majesty."
This long-absent royal princess bowed gracefully.
"Welcome to Jaffa."
Behind her, the young ironworker nervously stepped forward: "Your Majesty, may God bless you."
Losa made the sign of the cross in front of himself: "And may God bless you, Sir Belian."
"Princess Sibylla."
"Your Majesty."
This long-absent royal princess bowed gracefully.
"Welcome to Jaffa."
Behind her, the young ironworker nervously stepped forward: "Your Majesty, may God bless you."
Losa made the sign of the cross in front of himself: "And may God bless you, Sir Belian."