Chapter 157: Chapter 157: The Queen That Might Be
Date: May 17th, 1181 — Jerusalem
The spring sun hung high over the limestone ridges as two weary riders passed through the gates of Jerusalem, the dust of a long sea voyage and overland trek clinging stubbornly to their cloaks. Balian of Ibelin and Brother Gerard had been on the road and sea for over a month since leaving Palermo. Now, their horses’ hooves struck the flagstones of the capital with a rhythm that seemed to announce their purpose to all who cared to listen.
They rode straight for the palace, bypassing the bustling market where merchants called out in Arabic, Greek, and Frankish, and where the scent of cumin and roasting lamb hung in the air. The sentries on the palace steps recognized them instantly, saluting before swinging open the heavy cedar doors.
Inside, the coolness of the vaulted corridor was a relief. The two men were shown at once to the private chambers of King Baldwin IV, whose condition, while stable, was still evident in the deliberate way he rose to greet them.
Baldwin’s thin frame was wrapped in a light tunic of pale blue, the sleeves cut to free his arms from the irritation of his bandaged skin. The hood of soft linen was back from his head, revealing a face still striking in its sharpness, though his eyes bore the quiet fatigue of one accustomed to pain.
"Balian, Brother Gerard," Baldwin said with a faint smile. "Back in one piece, I see. Come, sit."
The two men bowed deeply before taking their seats at the carved walnut table. Baldwin lowered himself into his chair, a servant moving silently to pour wine.
"Well?" the king asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and calculation. "What news from Palermo?"
Balian leaned forward slightly. "Your Majesty... Constance has accepted your proposal."
For a heartbeat, Baldwin was still, his fingers resting lightly on the table’s edge. Then, unexpectedly, a soft laugh escaped him.
"I must confess," he said, shaking his head, "I did not think she would. I wrote those terms knowing full well that her advisors might turn her against the idea. And yet... she has agreed?"
Brother Gerard nodded. "She has, sire. But with conditions. Conditions, I think, you anticipated."
Baldwin’s eyes narrowed, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Go on, then. Let me hear them from your lips."
Balian spoke first. "The first is the assignment of revenues from specific fiefs, estates, or customs duties here in the Holy Land, to be granted to her as her dower — ensuring her financial independence should you predecease her. She mentioned that these might come from rural lordships or urban tolls, but without full sovereignty, so as not to alienate the nobility. She even cited the precedent of Maria Komnene’s dower under your father, Amalric."
Baldwin inclined his head slowly. "Yes... I assumed she would request that. Continue."
Gerard took over. "The second is the expansion of exclusive or preferential trading rights for Sicilian merchants in our major ports — Acre, Tyre, Jaffa. She spoke of tax exemptions, reserved warehouses, and monopolies on certain goods. Essentially, the arrangement would resemble the Venetian quarter in Tyre, but with Sicily as the beneficiary."
"I expected as much," Baldwin murmured. "And the third?"
Balian’s voice lowered slightly. "The most important to her — a guarantee of political inclusion. She wishes to sit in the royal council, and if you and she have an heir, and you should pass before that child reaches their majority, she is to be regent. She will not accept anyone else assuming that role."
There was a pause. Baldwin leaned back, tapping a finger lightly against the table. "And you both agreed to tell her that these were acceptable?"
"Yes," Balian said. "Because, truthfully, you had already determined each of them beforehand."
A faint smile passed over Baldwin’s lips. "Indeed. It seems I know her better than I have ever met her."
He glanced between the two men, studying them. "Tell me — what are your impressions? Would she be an asset to the kingdom?"
Balian spoke first, his tone measured. "She is intelligent, Your Majesty. She knew precisely what she wanted before the meeting began. She listens carefully to her advisors, but she does not parrot their words — she weighs them. And she is not timid. If she is queen, she will not be content with ceremony alone. She will involve herself in governance."
Brother Gerard added, "She is cautious — perhaps overly so — about your illness, sire. That much is certain. But once she understood the precautions and the realities, she did not let that stop her. She will be loyal to her own interests and to Sicily’s, but if she sees those aligned with Jerusalem’s, she will serve them both well."
Baldwin’s gaze drifted toward the window, where the afternoon sun poured over the city’s rooftops. "A queen who knows the weight of the crown before wearing it... that is rare."
The room was silent for a moment, the three men contemplating the shift this marriage could bring. Then Baldwin straightened.
"Very well," he said. "We will proceed. Envoys must be sent at once to Palermo — men capable of negotiating the dowry and finalizing all terms, including her concessions. I want every point written clearly, signed, sealed, and beyond dispute."
Balian inclined his head. "I can draft the instructions tonight."
"And I," Gerard said, "will ensure the Hospitallers provide secure passage for the envoys and their retinue."
Baldwin gave a faint nod, his expression sharpening into one of resolve. "This marriage will change the balance of the Mediterranean. Sicily’s friendship, its ports, its fleets... all under the shadow of Jerusalem. And with Constance at my side —" he paused, the corner of his mouth lifting, "— perhaps the lords here will think twice before challenging the crown."
He rose carefully from his chair, signaling the end of the meeting. "You have done well, both of you. Go now — rest from your journey. But tomorrow, we begin."
The two men bowed and withdrew.
Outside, the air was bright and warm, the city humming with life. As they stepped into the courtyard, Balian glanced sideways at Gerard. "We have our queen, it seems."
Gerard gave a quiet grunt of agreement. "A queen who will not be silent."
They walked on in companionable silence, the palace walls behind them already stirring with the first murmurs of what was to come.