Constantinople was the jewel of the old Byzantine Empire, a glittering, half-ruined, half-miraculous mix of golden domes, shattered mosaics, crumbling aqueducts, stray cats who clearly thought they owned the place, and pigeons that had long ago decided the Hagia Sophia’s dome was their personal landing strip. For over a thousand years it had been the New Rome, the Queen of Cities, the place where the Roman eagle had landed when the old Rome became too crowded with barbarians and bad decisions.
