A week later, inside the Great Palace in Constantinople.
Today, the Great Palace looked like a cheap, overcrowded fish market.
"I tell you, we're in trouble!" cried Demetrius, the chief minister of commerce. He slammed his ring-studded fist on the table. "The Western Silk Roads are dead. Every merchant ship's captain is afraid to sail through Italy. We're losing gold every hour!"
"Enough with your whining about your lost money, Demetrius!" scoffed General Christophoros, crossing his arms. "Who cares about silk merchants when there's a huge, aggressive Frankish army preparing to attack in the west, and you're crying over silk!"
The royal council chamber was packed.
Dozens of highly educated scholars, wealthy merchants, nervous military advisors, senior ironworkers, and high-ranking ministers were all speaking at once, in perfect unison.
It was utter chaos, unbearable tension, shouting, finger-pointing, and panic.
