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Victory for House Kotas! And victory for that Vangelis of that name, then-prince, now forth duly anointed king! Hail To House Kotas! Hail To King Vangelis!
What nonsense. What total, arrant nonsense. Would he be wasted, torn and broken, marrow, sinews, bones and all, that forth from his loins no future fruit be sired, nor from past, former experienced grown to suit, then surely would Damocles then feel compelled to some modicum of pleasantness. Alas, nothing could be made from nothing, despite what the philosophers and so-called men of wisdom argued. Still, his opinions were well-set and his thoughts held close to heart. No boy that regarded himself in the trappings of a man deserved such elevated station. Neither did those mud-witted nobles that held themselves in such auspices deserve such expected reverence. Had they but worked and labored industriously as he and those of equal standing done through days turned weeks, weeks turned months and months turned years, then mayhaps, some respect might be plucked out from his closed heart. Sadly, this was not the case.
Oh, but fate was a fickle mistress, and one that demanded true reverence and prescience. Had he been candor with his deepest thoughts he would have surely failed to rise to such position from the lowly rank and file he hailed from. As he had learned, in events of display such as these, silence and discretion were needed tools; tools that he had sharpened to fine edges after years of exposure. He would not make that mistake most of his apparent low-birth would oft make in such situations of pageantry, pomp and circumstance. He would keep his thoughts to himself. He would still bow low to the king up top. Yet, just as the sun rose every morrow and set after dusk, Damocles was very much assured of a fact. One of these coming days, he would take his own crown and sit his own crown. Such times however would have to wait. Besides, there were other matters to tend to, more pressing and ardent in nature. After all, despite its origins, a feast was still a feast, with all the opportunities and chances it harbored and offered.
Thus, after donning his expected raiment and garbing himself with fitting finery, Damocles made his steeped steps towards the Dikastrio. Once, he had little to show and prove for place, a fate that would have but felled to all who rose to such rank through merit and not birth. Still, as it happened, years of careful spending and mindful business eventually gave well and paid their fruits in strides, allowing the man to don bracelets, rings and armbands of gold. Likewise, in the past, he knew little of etiquette or manners, but his studies and careful insights had afforded him the elegance and grace that was warranted in such events. Naturally, he had been blessed with a commanding height, one that demanded attention and recognition by sheer presence alone, but this alone would do little to make him stand out, especially amongst others who could very well rival him. This was where his looks had come in as equal tools of importance to his talent for words and silence. Given his narcissism, Damocles made sure that he was nothing short of an outrageously handsome man. Black-haired and bearded; he was muscled like a virgin’ wildest s fantasies, with stark, alluring eyes of pulsing silver and a deep, and a languid voice that carried with it a smoky sensation that made those who listened for too long go weak on their knees with wanton, craven desire. Self-confident and pleased with his appearance, he continued, appeasing the gathered audience with his trademark smile and easy charm.
Immediately, he was fast to recognize a plethora of familiar, smiling faces. The sound of chattering voices and haughty laughter made well to remind him fast where exactly he was, a den of swirling vipers. Beneath the gold and jewels this was still a field of battle, perhaps, the most dangerous he had ever set foot forth. Yet, rather than recoil and turn heel to run, he leaned his shoulders back, straightened his form and kept forth his tread. He recognized the daughters of his patron, Tythra of Drakon, especially that of the younger, gentle-haired, soft eyed Essa, whom he offered a simple smooth glance of acknowledgement before moving onwards. Subsequently, he took note of another set of royals, those of the Thanasi, who seemed too involved in their own machinations, as expected. Oddly enough, it seemed Dyonisius, head of said house, was tired in his old bones, given his seated position, one flanked by his firstborn, Nethis. Mayhaps, he would spare words to her later on, but for now, he had a place to be at.
He wasn’t a royal or noble, still. And so, he had to take a place by the other captains and military leaders, those whom he shared rank and position with. At this corner, there too were faces he knew, some directly, others less so. Manifesting his legendary charisma, Damocles welcomed his apparent peers, taking his time to come to them before finally speaking his first words of that moment to none in particular. “Hello there! Hello! Good day to you, and you. Well met my dear Colchians! Tell me, how do you all fare on this most auspicious of days?” His smile turned humorous, a mild relief from the otherwise stifling monotony of such event. Ever the charmer, he was fast to offer his hand and greet those around him with droll jokes and casual flattery, again blending well with this group. He supposed it was only natural, given that they were all men of sword and arms. Eventually however, he turned his attention to one in particular, a man who he had heard a number of things from. “Maleos? Maleos! Oh my good friend, how are you? Come! Come!” he began, waving subly at the sullen-looking man so as to break words with him. “My good friend, you simply must regale me with your most recent of tales. Oh? Who is this magnificent person? A friend of yours?” He asked, noticing a taller-than average woman with dark curls and a well-framed face. "Well then, allow me to stand on ceremony and introduce myself. I am Damocles of Magnemea, Captain of the Damned at your most humble of services." announced the silver-eyed man in his quintessentially deep voice.
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Victory for House Kotas! And victory for that Vangelis of that name, then-prince, now forth duly anointed king! Hail To House Kotas! Hail To King Vangelis!
What nonsense. What total, arrant nonsense. Would he be wasted, torn and broken, marrow, sinews, bones and all, that forth from his loins no future fruit be sired, nor from past, former experienced grown to suit, then surely would Damocles then feel compelled to some modicum of pleasantness. Alas, nothing could be made from nothing, despite what the philosophers and so-called men of wisdom argued. Still, his opinions were well-set and his thoughts held close to heart. No boy that regarded himself in the trappings of a man deserved such elevated station. Neither did those mud-witted nobles that held themselves in such auspices deserve such expected reverence. Had they but worked and labored industriously as he and those of equal standing done through days turned weeks, weeks turned months and months turned years, then mayhaps, some respect might be plucked out from his closed heart. Sadly, this was not the case.
Oh, but fate was a fickle mistress, and one that demanded true reverence and prescience. Had he been candor with his deepest thoughts he would have surely failed to rise to such position from the lowly rank and file he hailed from. As he had learned, in events of display such as these, silence and discretion were needed tools; tools that he had sharpened to fine edges after years of exposure. He would not make that mistake most of his apparent low-birth would oft make in such situations of pageantry, pomp and circumstance. He would keep his thoughts to himself. He would still bow low to the king up top. Yet, just as the sun rose every morrow and set after dusk, Damocles was very much assured of a fact. One of these coming days, he would take his own crown and sit his own crown. Such times however would have to wait. Besides, there were other matters to tend to, more pressing and ardent in nature. After all, despite its origins, a feast was still a feast, with all the opportunities and chances it harbored and offered.
Thus, after donning his expected raiment and garbing himself with fitting finery, Damocles made his steeped steps towards the Dikastrio. Once, he had little to show and prove for place, a fate that would have but felled to all who rose to such rank through merit and not birth. Still, as it happened, years of careful spending and mindful business eventually gave well and paid their fruits in strides, allowing the man to don bracelets, rings and armbands of gold. Likewise, in the past, he knew little of etiquette or manners, but his studies and careful insights had afforded him the elegance and grace that was warranted in such events. Naturally, he had been blessed with a commanding height, one that demanded attention and recognition by sheer presence alone, but this alone would do little to make him stand out, especially amongst others who could very well rival him. This was where his looks had come in as equal tools of importance to his talent for words and silence. Given his narcissism, Damocles made sure that he was nothing short of an outrageously handsome man. Black-haired and bearded; he was muscled like a virgin’ wildest s fantasies, with stark, alluring eyes of pulsing silver and a deep, and a languid voice that carried with it a smoky sensation that made those who listened for too long go weak on their knees with wanton, craven desire. Self-confident and pleased with his appearance, he continued, appeasing the gathered audience with his trademark smile and easy charm.
Immediately, he was fast to recognize a plethora of familiar, smiling faces. The sound of chattering voices and haughty laughter made well to remind him fast where exactly he was, a den of swirling vipers. Beneath the gold and jewels this was still a field of battle, perhaps, the most dangerous he had ever set foot forth. Yet, rather than recoil and turn heel to run, he leaned his shoulders back, straightened his form and kept forth his tread. He recognized the daughters of his patron, Tythra of Drakon, especially that of the younger, gentle-haired, soft eyed Essa, whom he offered a simple smooth glance of acknowledgement before moving onwards. Subsequently, he took note of another set of royals, those of the Thanasi, who seemed too involved in their own machinations, as expected. Oddly enough, it seemed Dyonisius, head of said house, was tired in his old bones, given his seated position, one flanked by his firstborn, Nethis. Mayhaps, he would spare words to her later on, but for now, he had a place to be at.
He wasn’t a royal or noble, still. And so, he had to take a place by the other captains and military leaders, those whom he shared rank and position with. At this corner, there too were faces he knew, some directly, others less so. Manifesting his legendary charisma, Damocles welcomed his apparent peers, taking his time to come to them before finally speaking his first words of that moment to none in particular. “Hello there! Hello! Good day to you, and you. Well met my dear Colchians! Tell me, how do you all fare on this most auspicious of days?” His smile turned humorous, a mild relief from the otherwise stifling monotony of such event. Ever the charmer, he was fast to offer his hand and greet those around him with droll jokes and casual flattery, again blending well with this group. He supposed it was only natural, given that they were all men of sword and arms. Eventually however, he turned his attention to one in particular, a man who he had heard a number of things from. “Maleos? Maleos! Oh my good friend, how are you? Come! Come!” he began, waving subly at the sullen-looking man so as to break words with him. “My good friend, you simply must regale me with your most recent of tales. Oh? Who is this magnificent person? A friend of yours?” He asked, noticing a taller-than average woman with dark curls and a well-framed face. "Well then, allow me to stand on ceremony and introduce myself. I am Damocles of Magnemea, Captain of the Damned at your most humble of services." announced the silver-eyed man in his quintessentially deep voice.
Victory for House Kotas! And victory for that Vangelis of that name, then-prince, now forth duly anointed king! Hail To House Kotas! Hail To King Vangelis!
What nonsense. What total, arrant nonsense. Would he be wasted, torn and broken, marrow, sinews, bones and all, that forth from his loins no future fruit be sired, nor from past, former experienced grown to suit, then surely would Damocles then feel compelled to some modicum of pleasantness. Alas, nothing could be made from nothing, despite what the philosophers and so-called men of wisdom argued. Still, his opinions were well-set and his thoughts held close to heart. No boy that regarded himself in the trappings of a man deserved such elevated station. Neither did those mud-witted nobles that held themselves in such auspices deserve such expected reverence. Had they but worked and labored industriously as he and those of equal standing done through days turned weeks, weeks turned months and months turned years, then mayhaps, some respect might be plucked out from his closed heart. Sadly, this was not the case.
Oh, but fate was a fickle mistress, and one that demanded true reverence and prescience. Had he been candor with his deepest thoughts he would have surely failed to rise to such position from the lowly rank and file he hailed from. As he had learned, in events of display such as these, silence and discretion were needed tools; tools that he had sharpened to fine edges after years of exposure. He would not make that mistake most of his apparent low-birth would oft make in such situations of pageantry, pomp and circumstance. He would keep his thoughts to himself. He would still bow low to the king up top. Yet, just as the sun rose every morrow and set after dusk, Damocles was very much assured of a fact. One of these coming days, he would take his own crown and sit his own crown. Such times however would have to wait. Besides, there were other matters to tend to, more pressing and ardent in nature. After all, despite its origins, a feast was still a feast, with all the opportunities and chances it harbored and offered.
Thus, after donning his expected raiment and garbing himself with fitting finery, Damocles made his steeped steps towards the Dikastrio. Once, he had little to show and prove for place, a fate that would have but felled to all who rose to such rank through merit and not birth. Still, as it happened, years of careful spending and mindful business eventually gave well and paid their fruits in strides, allowing the man to don bracelets, rings and armbands of gold. Likewise, in the past, he knew little of etiquette or manners, but his studies and careful insights had afforded him the elegance and grace that was warranted in such events. Naturally, he had been blessed with a commanding height, one that demanded attention and recognition by sheer presence alone, but this alone would do little to make him stand out, especially amongst others who could very well rival him. This was where his looks had come in as equal tools of importance to his talent for words and silence. Given his narcissism, Damocles made sure that he was nothing short of an outrageously handsome man. Black-haired and bearded; he was muscled like a virgin’ wildest s fantasies, with stark, alluring eyes of pulsing silver and a deep, and a languid voice that carried with it a smoky sensation that made those who listened for too long go weak on their knees with wanton, craven desire. Self-confident and pleased with his appearance, he continued, appeasing the gathered audience with his trademark smile and easy charm.
Immediately, he was fast to recognize a plethora of familiar, smiling faces. The sound of chattering voices and haughty laughter made well to remind him fast where exactly he was, a den of swirling vipers. Beneath the gold and jewels this was still a field of battle, perhaps, the most dangerous he had ever set foot forth. Yet, rather than recoil and turn heel to run, he leaned his shoulders back, straightened his form and kept forth his tread. He recognized the daughters of his patron, Tythra of Drakon, especially that of the younger, gentle-haired, soft eyed Essa, whom he offered a simple smooth glance of acknowledgement before moving onwards. Subsequently, he took note of another set of royals, those of the Thanasi, who seemed too involved in their own machinations, as expected. Oddly enough, it seemed Dyonisius, head of said house, was tired in his old bones, given his seated position, one flanked by his firstborn, Nethis. Mayhaps, he would spare words to her later on, but for now, he had a place to be at.
He wasn’t a royal or noble, still. And so, he had to take a place by the other captains and military leaders, those whom he shared rank and position with. At this corner, there too were faces he knew, some directly, others less so. Manifesting his legendary charisma, Damocles welcomed his apparent peers, taking his time to come to them before finally speaking his first words of that moment to none in particular. “Hello there! Hello! Good day to you, and you. Well met my dear Colchians! Tell me, how do you all fare on this most auspicious of days?” His smile turned humorous, a mild relief from the otherwise stifling monotony of such event. Ever the charmer, he was fast to offer his hand and greet those around him with droll jokes and casual flattery, again blending well with this group. He supposed it was only natural, given that they were all men of sword and arms. Eventually however, he turned his attention to one in particular, a man who he had heard a number of things from. “Maleos? Maleos! Oh my good friend, how are you? Come! Come!” he began, waving subly at the sullen-looking man so as to break words with him. “My good friend, you simply must regale me with your most recent of tales. Oh? Who is this magnificent person? A friend of yours?” He asked, noticing a taller-than average woman with dark curls and a well-framed face. "Well then, allow me to stand on ceremony and introduce myself. I am Damocles of Magnemea, Captain of the Damned at your most humble of services." announced the silver-eyed man in his quintessentially deep voice.
Her father's words had Evras groaning internally, especially when Dionysios's hard of hearing meant he spoke every syllable at a tone that was a notch higher then regular conversational tones - which also meant everyone heard them. It didn't help that the Dikastirio's structure was built in such a way that voices carried, and when other conversations hushed as her father's voice carried out, Evras casted a hurried, almost pleading look to her sister's direction, but Dionysios had all but dragged her to the table, even though propriety and rules dictated that no one be seated till the monarch has arrived. Of course, it did not help that Nethis had given said instruction herself, but it wasn't as if her father ever listened to anyone.
Luckily for Evras, it was only a brief moment between Yanni's glancing over at her father's unspeakable behavior, before Vangelis himself arrived. The presence of the supposed new king of Colchis distracted many from her father, enough for Evras to untangle herself from the man's surprisingly strong grip still, handing his hands over to Nethis. Her eyes flickered to find Thea, and she murmured a quick "I have to go." to her sister's, before hurrying off.
The arrival of Vangelis meant that the servants had to be informed, and despite the slight twinge in her abdomen, Evras had no choice. Queen Yanni had her own duties, and while the servants knew what to do technically, Evras still wanted to oversee, nervous as she was with all her emotions amplified currently.
Her eyes skimmed the available servants (far lesser then she'd like, but many of them had been tasked with readying for the coronation which would happen soon, and Evras already had to pull out all the stops in getting more ready for tonight), before the blue-green irises landed on a slave she recognized as one of her own husband's. Technically, any of them were under the property of Evras as well, marriage and all. So Evras did not bat an eyelash as she briefly brushed her hand over the servant staring at the ground.
"Inform the kitchen that the King has arrived, and the meal has to be out in mere moments. And ensure the trays of wine are served to everyone once they are seated. No tarrying, quickly." her manners were kind but brusque, a task to be done that Evras wanted to see no mistakes in, and it was obvious in the manner as the young princess swept away to see to her next task, given a small window to prep before Vangelis and the rest of her husband's family would be ready to sit at the royal table.
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Check out their information page here.
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Her father's words had Evras groaning internally, especially when Dionysios's hard of hearing meant he spoke every syllable at a tone that was a notch higher then regular conversational tones - which also meant everyone heard them. It didn't help that the Dikastirio's structure was built in such a way that voices carried, and when other conversations hushed as her father's voice carried out, Evras casted a hurried, almost pleading look to her sister's direction, but Dionysios had all but dragged her to the table, even though propriety and rules dictated that no one be seated till the monarch has arrived. Of course, it did not help that Nethis had given said instruction herself, but it wasn't as if her father ever listened to anyone.
Luckily for Evras, it was only a brief moment between Yanni's glancing over at her father's unspeakable behavior, before Vangelis himself arrived. The presence of the supposed new king of Colchis distracted many from her father, enough for Evras to untangle herself from the man's surprisingly strong grip still, handing his hands over to Nethis. Her eyes flickered to find Thea, and she murmured a quick "I have to go." to her sister's, before hurrying off.
The arrival of Vangelis meant that the servants had to be informed, and despite the slight twinge in her abdomen, Evras had no choice. Queen Yanni had her own duties, and while the servants knew what to do technically, Evras still wanted to oversee, nervous as she was with all her emotions amplified currently.
Her eyes skimmed the available servants (far lesser then she'd like, but many of them had been tasked with readying for the coronation which would happen soon, and Evras already had to pull out all the stops in getting more ready for tonight), before the blue-green irises landed on a slave she recognized as one of her own husband's. Technically, any of them were under the property of Evras as well, marriage and all. So Evras did not bat an eyelash as she briefly brushed her hand over the servant staring at the ground.
"Inform the kitchen that the King has arrived, and the meal has to be out in mere moments. And ensure the trays of wine are served to everyone once they are seated. No tarrying, quickly." her manners were kind but brusque, a task to be done that Evras wanted to see no mistakes in, and it was obvious in the manner as the young princess swept away to see to her next task, given a small window to prep before Vangelis and the rest of her husband's family would be ready to sit at the royal table.
Her father's words had Evras groaning internally, especially when Dionysios's hard of hearing meant he spoke every syllable at a tone that was a notch higher then regular conversational tones - which also meant everyone heard them. It didn't help that the Dikastirio's structure was built in such a way that voices carried, and when other conversations hushed as her father's voice carried out, Evras casted a hurried, almost pleading look to her sister's direction, but Dionysios had all but dragged her to the table, even though propriety and rules dictated that no one be seated till the monarch has arrived. Of course, it did not help that Nethis had given said instruction herself, but it wasn't as if her father ever listened to anyone.
Luckily for Evras, it was only a brief moment between Yanni's glancing over at her father's unspeakable behavior, before Vangelis himself arrived. The presence of the supposed new king of Colchis distracted many from her father, enough for Evras to untangle herself from the man's surprisingly strong grip still, handing his hands over to Nethis. Her eyes flickered to find Thea, and she murmured a quick "I have to go." to her sister's, before hurrying off.
The arrival of Vangelis meant that the servants had to be informed, and despite the slight twinge in her abdomen, Evras had no choice. Queen Yanni had her own duties, and while the servants knew what to do technically, Evras still wanted to oversee, nervous as she was with all her emotions amplified currently.
Her eyes skimmed the available servants (far lesser then she'd like, but many of them had been tasked with readying for the coronation which would happen soon, and Evras already had to pull out all the stops in getting more ready for tonight), before the blue-green irises landed on a slave she recognized as one of her own husband's. Technically, any of them were under the property of Evras as well, marriage and all. So Evras did not bat an eyelash as she briefly brushed her hand over the servant staring at the ground.
"Inform the kitchen that the King has arrived, and the meal has to be out in mere moments. And ensure the trays of wine are served to everyone once they are seated. No tarrying, quickly." her manners were kind but brusque, a task to be done that Evras wanted to see no mistakes in, and it was obvious in the manner as the young princess swept away to see to her next task, given a small window to prep before Vangelis and the rest of her husband's family would be ready to sit at the royal table.
Perhaps if she wasn't so focused on the game she'd been playing with the Colchian, she would have shown a greater amount of annoyance at her mother giving her the evil eye. It seemed the apple didn't fall far from the tree, seeing as Selene and Evelli both found reason to scold Nana when she'd done nothing wrong. It wasn't as if the girl had been rude. In fact, her words were nice! It seemed she'd never win.
As Nana stood about, listening to her mother and sister have their heart-to-heart, she spotted the familiar face of Imeeya of Drakos making her way over, accompanied by a younger girl, likely her sister. Though Nana found Lady Imeeya to be a fascinating creature upon their first meeting in Vasiliadon, among a room of Colchians, Nana found her not the least bit so. The Leventi wanted to flirt with handsome men (one in particular), not prattle on about nonsense with one of many Colchian ladies. Yet, she would play nice. Ever the saint.
The Leventi greeted the pair with a soft smile on her face, responding in turn to her acquaintance likewise. "Lady Imeeya. And Lady Essa. How lovely to meet you." The younger girl was cute, if not a bit shy, it seemed. A bit like Imma, really, though from the look of it, nowhere near as exasperating. Turning her gaze back to the elder of the two sisters, Nana let out a loud sigh. "You would not believe the trip we had, Lady Imeeya. I'm quite sure I shall never take being on land for granted again. Your journey home was more pleasant, I hope?"
This was awfully boring. The fourth-youngest Leventi daughter let out a quiet sigh as her eyes flitted back to her mystery man, with the hope that perhaps he would bring her the respite she so dearly wished for. And there it came. He wanted her to come over.
She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips as she gazed at the man, who she noted was quickly disappearing into the crowd. She would not have that. In her excitement, the blonde quickly blurted out, "I am so sorry. If you would excuse me for just a moment, I'm going to get some wine," a bit louder than intended in her haste to chase after the man. Usually, Nana would turn her nose up at any man who was precocious enough to think that a young lady of her breeding would be so vulgar as to chase after some common lord, but this man was not some common lord. He was a prince. Nana could feel it in her gut. And so, she quickly sped off after him, only narrowly missing Olympia's arrival.
Here she was. About to talk to a prince. A prince who was interested in her! Of course, it only made sense, yet it still made the young Leventi's heart race. Now, if she could just find him...
Holding fistfuls of her skirts as to not trip over them in her haste, the girl's gaze turned this way and that, looking for the prince that had just a moment ago beckoned her to him. Moving closer to the edge of the room, Nana hoped that perhaps she'd be able to spot him better from outside of the mass of courtiers that filled the room with chatter. And soon, she did just so.
Catching his eye once again, Nana grinned at the man and motioned with her head for him to come to her, in much the same way that he'd done only a moment earlier. Not breaking eye contact, the Leventi made a beeline for a hideaway behind one of the great columns that stood at the edge of the room. Nana would not have any intruders on her time with her mystery prince. And, she was delighted to find that he quickly followed after her, wine in hand.
The girl fiddled with her skirts as she watched him near, not able to help the giggle that escaped her lips when he reached her. After a moment of staring at the man in wonder, Nana suddenly found herself unable to sustain the eye contact that she'd held for so long, her gaze shifting down to the goblets of wine he held. This was unlike her, for sure. And she'd no idea what could have possibly come over her. Was it because he was a prince? Perhaps that made sense. Yet, it wouldn't do to be shy now, seeing as she'd essentially drawn the man to her. She would just have to pretend she wasn't. With a sheepish grin on her face, Nana's gaze shifted back up to the Colchian, once again establishing eye contact.
"I don't suppose one of those is for me?"
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Perhaps if she wasn't so focused on the game she'd been playing with the Colchian, she would have shown a greater amount of annoyance at her mother giving her the evil eye. It seemed the apple didn't fall far from the tree, seeing as Selene and Evelli both found reason to scold Nana when she'd done nothing wrong. It wasn't as if the girl had been rude. In fact, her words were nice! It seemed she'd never win.
As Nana stood about, listening to her mother and sister have their heart-to-heart, she spotted the familiar face of Imeeya of Drakos making her way over, accompanied by a younger girl, likely her sister. Though Nana found Lady Imeeya to be a fascinating creature upon their first meeting in Vasiliadon, among a room of Colchians, Nana found her not the least bit so. The Leventi wanted to flirt with handsome men (one in particular), not prattle on about nonsense with one of many Colchian ladies. Yet, she would play nice. Ever the saint.
The Leventi greeted the pair with a soft smile on her face, responding in turn to her acquaintance likewise. "Lady Imeeya. And Lady Essa. How lovely to meet you." The younger girl was cute, if not a bit shy, it seemed. A bit like Imma, really, though from the look of it, nowhere near as exasperating. Turning her gaze back to the elder of the two sisters, Nana let out a loud sigh. "You would not believe the trip we had, Lady Imeeya. I'm quite sure I shall never take being on land for granted again. Your journey home was more pleasant, I hope?"
This was awfully boring. The fourth-youngest Leventi daughter let out a quiet sigh as her eyes flitted back to her mystery man, with the hope that perhaps he would bring her the respite she so dearly wished for. And there it came. He wanted her to come over.
She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips as she gazed at the man, who she noted was quickly disappearing into the crowd. She would not have that. In her excitement, the blonde quickly blurted out, "I am so sorry. If you would excuse me for just a moment, I'm going to get some wine," a bit louder than intended in her haste to chase after the man. Usually, Nana would turn her nose up at any man who was precocious enough to think that a young lady of her breeding would be so vulgar as to chase after some common lord, but this man was not some common lord. He was a prince. Nana could feel it in her gut. And so, she quickly sped off after him, only narrowly missing Olympia's arrival.
Here she was. About to talk to a prince. A prince who was interested in her! Of course, it only made sense, yet it still made the young Leventi's heart race. Now, if she could just find him...
Holding fistfuls of her skirts as to not trip over them in her haste, the girl's gaze turned this way and that, looking for the prince that had just a moment ago beckoned her to him. Moving closer to the edge of the room, Nana hoped that perhaps she'd be able to spot him better from outside of the mass of courtiers that filled the room with chatter. And soon, she did just so.
Catching his eye once again, Nana grinned at the man and motioned with her head for him to come to her, in much the same way that he'd done only a moment earlier. Not breaking eye contact, the Leventi made a beeline for a hideaway behind one of the great columns that stood at the edge of the room. Nana would not have any intruders on her time with her mystery prince. And, she was delighted to find that he quickly followed after her, wine in hand.
The girl fiddled with her skirts as she watched him near, not able to help the giggle that escaped her lips when he reached her. After a moment of staring at the man in wonder, Nana suddenly found herself unable to sustain the eye contact that she'd held for so long, her gaze shifting down to the goblets of wine he held. This was unlike her, for sure. And she'd no idea what could have possibly come over her. Was it because he was a prince? Perhaps that made sense. Yet, it wouldn't do to be shy now, seeing as she'd essentially drawn the man to her. She would just have to pretend she wasn't. With a sheepish grin on her face, Nana's gaze shifted back up to the Colchian, once again establishing eye contact.
"I don't suppose one of those is for me?"
Perhaps if she wasn't so focused on the game she'd been playing with the Colchian, she would have shown a greater amount of annoyance at her mother giving her the evil eye. It seemed the apple didn't fall far from the tree, seeing as Selene and Evelli both found reason to scold Nana when she'd done nothing wrong. It wasn't as if the girl had been rude. In fact, her words were nice! It seemed she'd never win.
As Nana stood about, listening to her mother and sister have their heart-to-heart, she spotted the familiar face of Imeeya of Drakos making her way over, accompanied by a younger girl, likely her sister. Though Nana found Lady Imeeya to be a fascinating creature upon their first meeting in Vasiliadon, among a room of Colchians, Nana found her not the least bit so. The Leventi wanted to flirt with handsome men (one in particular), not prattle on about nonsense with one of many Colchian ladies. Yet, she would play nice. Ever the saint.
The Leventi greeted the pair with a soft smile on her face, responding in turn to her acquaintance likewise. "Lady Imeeya. And Lady Essa. How lovely to meet you." The younger girl was cute, if not a bit shy, it seemed. A bit like Imma, really, though from the look of it, nowhere near as exasperating. Turning her gaze back to the elder of the two sisters, Nana let out a loud sigh. "You would not believe the trip we had, Lady Imeeya. I'm quite sure I shall never take being on land for granted again. Your journey home was more pleasant, I hope?"
This was awfully boring. The fourth-youngest Leventi daughter let out a quiet sigh as her eyes flitted back to her mystery man, with the hope that perhaps he would bring her the respite she so dearly wished for. And there it came. He wanted her to come over.
She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips as she gazed at the man, who she noted was quickly disappearing into the crowd. She would not have that. In her excitement, the blonde quickly blurted out, "I am so sorry. If you would excuse me for just a moment, I'm going to get some wine," a bit louder than intended in her haste to chase after the man. Usually, Nana would turn her nose up at any man who was precocious enough to think that a young lady of her breeding would be so vulgar as to chase after some common lord, but this man was not some common lord. He was a prince. Nana could feel it in her gut. And so, she quickly sped off after him, only narrowly missing Olympia's arrival.
Here she was. About to talk to a prince. A prince who was interested in her! Of course, it only made sense, yet it still made the young Leventi's heart race. Now, if she could just find him...
Holding fistfuls of her skirts as to not trip over them in her haste, the girl's gaze turned this way and that, looking for the prince that had just a moment ago beckoned her to him. Moving closer to the edge of the room, Nana hoped that perhaps she'd be able to spot him better from outside of the mass of courtiers that filled the room with chatter. And soon, she did just so.
Catching his eye once again, Nana grinned at the man and motioned with her head for him to come to her, in much the same way that he'd done only a moment earlier. Not breaking eye contact, the Leventi made a beeline for a hideaway behind one of the great columns that stood at the edge of the room. Nana would not have any intruders on her time with her mystery prince. And, she was delighted to find that he quickly followed after her, wine in hand.
The girl fiddled with her skirts as she watched him near, not able to help the giggle that escaped her lips when he reached her. After a moment of staring at the man in wonder, Nana suddenly found herself unable to sustain the eye contact that she'd held for so long, her gaze shifting down to the goblets of wine he held. This was unlike her, for sure. And she'd no idea what could have possibly come over her. Was it because he was a prince? Perhaps that made sense. Yet, it wouldn't do to be shy now, seeing as she'd essentially drawn the man to her. She would just have to pretend she wasn't. With a sheepish grin on her face, Nana's gaze shifted back up to the Colchian, once again establishing eye contact.
"I don't suppose one of those is for me?"
Imeeya smiled politely through the introductions offered by the Leventis. She had mainly approached them to ensure that her younger sister would be properly introduced to their foreign guests, but she was hoping that she might have a chance to meet with Asia before they had to sit for dinner, and they would have to be separated by Asia’s rank. By the way that Nana was looking around the room at any available man, it was clear that Imeeya wasn’t the only one who wasn’t wholly focused on the conversation.
“Our voyage was quite an experience,” Imeeya responded to Nana’s assertion that her own voyage was a nightmare. Imeeya didn’t dare say anything more about the details, no one was supposed to know that the Tangean King and Queen were here in Colchis, she didn’t dare say something that could be wrongly overheard. Though Imeeya wasn’t sure she was even listening to the response. Surely the Leventi woman knew about the baby that was born aboard the ship only hours into their voyage back to Colchis? Whether she did or not, Imeeya herself was distracted as she saw her cousin enter the hall. She had not had a chance to speak to her since they had arrived back in Colchis, and Imeeya wanted to check in with her and make sure that Asia was doing well, all things considered.
Only a moment after Nana offered her own apologies for leaving Imeeya found herself doing the same. “I also must beg your pardon. I must go check on my cousin.” Imeeya told the remaining ladies. “I do hope you have a wonderful stay in Colchis, and if you ever need anything, House Drakos is more than welcome to provide it.” Hopefully that last would be enough to smooth over her leaving in a hurry.
As Imeeya walked over to Asia, she saw gazes follow and words being whispered between others in the crowd. Imeeya couldn’t imagine what she had done to deserve the looks and the whispers. Imeeya slowed her pace slightly, trying to see if she could catch any of the words. “Down at the docks…” Imeeya heard from one voice, whose owner she couldn’t pick out. “She has a secret lover…” She heard from another. Imeeya frowned, her mood turning angry. She had no such thing, nor had she behaved in any way to encourage that rumor. The only person she had even spent any time alone with was the time that Lord Lazaros had walked her home, and he had been nothing but polite. Had he been spreading rumors? He didn’t seem the type.
Then Imeeya heard one more voice, “Imeeya and a pirate, they’re meeting in secret” Imeeya immediately whirled on the voice, about to unleash a venomous tirade on whoever dared to say such a thing about her. She knew exactly what they had been referring to, though they had their facts hugely mistaken. Lukos had been nothing but a pest that she had desperately wanted to escape from. She would make sure that the errant gossiper knew that by the time she was done.
However, at that moment, everyone turned to look towards the entryway as a herald called out Vangelis’s arrival. The gossiper was saved Imeeya’s wrath as everyone grew quiet for a moment upon the King’s entrance. By the time Imeeya had turned back around, the person had vanished back into the crowd of people. But Vangelis’s arrival also meant that it was time to find somewhere to sit. Imeeya glanced around. Briefly locking eyes with her mother. She could see the anger and disapproval radiating from Lady Tythra’s eyes. Imeeya immediately ducked behind some other people and turned away. She did not want to spend dinner sitting next to her mother when she was angry. Instead, Imeeya found herself a nice spot near the end of one of the long tables, and desperately hoped that someone might join her before her mother decided to come join her.
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Imeeya smiled politely through the introductions offered by the Leventis. She had mainly approached them to ensure that her younger sister would be properly introduced to their foreign guests, but she was hoping that she might have a chance to meet with Asia before they had to sit for dinner, and they would have to be separated by Asia’s rank. By the way that Nana was looking around the room at any available man, it was clear that Imeeya wasn’t the only one who wasn’t wholly focused on the conversation.
“Our voyage was quite an experience,” Imeeya responded to Nana’s assertion that her own voyage was a nightmare. Imeeya didn’t dare say anything more about the details, no one was supposed to know that the Tangean King and Queen were here in Colchis, she didn’t dare say something that could be wrongly overheard. Though Imeeya wasn’t sure she was even listening to the response. Surely the Leventi woman knew about the baby that was born aboard the ship only hours into their voyage back to Colchis? Whether she did or not, Imeeya herself was distracted as she saw her cousin enter the hall. She had not had a chance to speak to her since they had arrived back in Colchis, and Imeeya wanted to check in with her and make sure that Asia was doing well, all things considered.
Only a moment after Nana offered her own apologies for leaving Imeeya found herself doing the same. “I also must beg your pardon. I must go check on my cousin.” Imeeya told the remaining ladies. “I do hope you have a wonderful stay in Colchis, and if you ever need anything, House Drakos is more than welcome to provide it.” Hopefully that last would be enough to smooth over her leaving in a hurry.
As Imeeya walked over to Asia, she saw gazes follow and words being whispered between others in the crowd. Imeeya couldn’t imagine what she had done to deserve the looks and the whispers. Imeeya slowed her pace slightly, trying to see if she could catch any of the words. “Down at the docks…” Imeeya heard from one voice, whose owner she couldn’t pick out. “She has a secret lover…” She heard from another. Imeeya frowned, her mood turning angry. She had no such thing, nor had she behaved in any way to encourage that rumor. The only person she had even spent any time alone with was the time that Lord Lazaros had walked her home, and he had been nothing but polite. Had he been spreading rumors? He didn’t seem the type.
Then Imeeya heard one more voice, “Imeeya and a pirate, they’re meeting in secret” Imeeya immediately whirled on the voice, about to unleash a venomous tirade on whoever dared to say such a thing about her. She knew exactly what they had been referring to, though they had their facts hugely mistaken. Lukos had been nothing but a pest that she had desperately wanted to escape from. She would make sure that the errant gossiper knew that by the time she was done.
However, at that moment, everyone turned to look towards the entryway as a herald called out Vangelis’s arrival. The gossiper was saved Imeeya’s wrath as everyone grew quiet for a moment upon the King’s entrance. By the time Imeeya had turned back around, the person had vanished back into the crowd of people. But Vangelis’s arrival also meant that it was time to find somewhere to sit. Imeeya glanced around. Briefly locking eyes with her mother. She could see the anger and disapproval radiating from Lady Tythra’s eyes. Imeeya immediately ducked behind some other people and turned away. She did not want to spend dinner sitting next to her mother when she was angry. Instead, Imeeya found herself a nice spot near the end of one of the long tables, and desperately hoped that someone might join her before her mother decided to come join her.
Imeeya smiled politely through the introductions offered by the Leventis. She had mainly approached them to ensure that her younger sister would be properly introduced to their foreign guests, but she was hoping that she might have a chance to meet with Asia before they had to sit for dinner, and they would have to be separated by Asia’s rank. By the way that Nana was looking around the room at any available man, it was clear that Imeeya wasn’t the only one who wasn’t wholly focused on the conversation.
“Our voyage was quite an experience,” Imeeya responded to Nana’s assertion that her own voyage was a nightmare. Imeeya didn’t dare say anything more about the details, no one was supposed to know that the Tangean King and Queen were here in Colchis, she didn’t dare say something that could be wrongly overheard. Though Imeeya wasn’t sure she was even listening to the response. Surely the Leventi woman knew about the baby that was born aboard the ship only hours into their voyage back to Colchis? Whether she did or not, Imeeya herself was distracted as she saw her cousin enter the hall. She had not had a chance to speak to her since they had arrived back in Colchis, and Imeeya wanted to check in with her and make sure that Asia was doing well, all things considered.
Only a moment after Nana offered her own apologies for leaving Imeeya found herself doing the same. “I also must beg your pardon. I must go check on my cousin.” Imeeya told the remaining ladies. “I do hope you have a wonderful stay in Colchis, and if you ever need anything, House Drakos is more than welcome to provide it.” Hopefully that last would be enough to smooth over her leaving in a hurry.
As Imeeya walked over to Asia, she saw gazes follow and words being whispered between others in the crowd. Imeeya couldn’t imagine what she had done to deserve the looks and the whispers. Imeeya slowed her pace slightly, trying to see if she could catch any of the words. “Down at the docks…” Imeeya heard from one voice, whose owner she couldn’t pick out. “She has a secret lover…” She heard from another. Imeeya frowned, her mood turning angry. She had no such thing, nor had she behaved in any way to encourage that rumor. The only person she had even spent any time alone with was the time that Lord Lazaros had walked her home, and he had been nothing but polite. Had he been spreading rumors? He didn’t seem the type.
Then Imeeya heard one more voice, “Imeeya and a pirate, they’re meeting in secret” Imeeya immediately whirled on the voice, about to unleash a venomous tirade on whoever dared to say such a thing about her. She knew exactly what they had been referring to, though they had their facts hugely mistaken. Lukos had been nothing but a pest that she had desperately wanted to escape from. She would make sure that the errant gossiper knew that by the time she was done.
However, at that moment, everyone turned to look towards the entryway as a herald called out Vangelis’s arrival. The gossiper was saved Imeeya’s wrath as everyone grew quiet for a moment upon the King’s entrance. By the time Imeeya had turned back around, the person had vanished back into the crowd of people. But Vangelis’s arrival also meant that it was time to find somewhere to sit. Imeeya glanced around. Briefly locking eyes with her mother. She could see the anger and disapproval radiating from Lady Tythra’s eyes. Imeeya immediately ducked behind some other people and turned away. She did not want to spend dinner sitting next to her mother when she was angry. Instead, Imeeya found herself a nice spot near the end of one of the long tables, and desperately hoped that someone might join her before her mother decided to come join her.
Listening politely but impatiently to an older noblewoman extolling the virtues of her grandchildren, Athanasia heard the announcement heralding her mother's entrance, and excused herself with the excuse that she must greet her. Before she had walked more than a few steps, a gaggle of vapid girls clustered around her, exclaiming over every piece of her ensemble. No doubt they'll be copying my style within a week, she thought. Her ruffled himation had been an invention of her personal seamstress and she'd never seen anything like it before. Though she wished to keep the design for herself, it would probably become a trend soon and her seamstress would have to create something else unique for the princess.
As her mother passed by, Athanasia noticed her approving look and smiled, pleased that she was proud of her. It took every inch of willpower she had not to tell her admirers to shove off, particularly when they began sharing the latest gossip. Her eyes widened when she heard Imeeya's name mentioned. She had a lover she had met at the docks? A pirate? Surely that was just hearsay. Yet what if it wasn't? Most rumors had at least a grain of truth to them. If she was seeing someone, anyone, in secret … particularly at an unsavory place like the docks ... Imeeya was a hypocrite for accusing her of impropriety because of a simple kiss that had been completely unexpected.
Was this a new relationship, or had she been seeing this man, whoever he was, before they left for Taengea? It was difficult to believe that the rumors had been made up out of spite. They were too specific. Somebody had seen something suspicious involving her favorite cousin and best friend. It could have been an accidental and innocent encounter, but what had Imeeya been doing at the docks to begin with?
Anger rose within the young princess as she spotted the subject of the gossip walking toward her. Athanasia shot her a venomous glare, breaking away from the circle of noblewoman and heading toward her mother, who was speaking to King Stephanos. He would always be the King of Taengea to her despite the fact that his uncle had deceitfully overthrown him. He and his Queen must be feeling awkward tonight, strangers in the kingdom that had taken them in. Her mother broke away from him and went to speak to Evras and her family and then her brother arrived and was announced.
She paused and looked up at him as he descended the stairs, forgetting her irritation with Imeeya for a moment. Vangelis wore his new kingship well. He looked as regal as her father, dressed in crimson and black, the crown that had once graced the late King's head sparkling in the light. A pang of sorrow pierced her heart as a memory of her father danced through her mind. He had been exiting the throne room as she passed by accompanied by her nurse, and he had scooped her up in his arms and swung her around. Athanasia had reached up to touch his crown and he had taken it off and held it over her tiny head, proclaiming her the Queen of his heart. She had been all of three years old.
Pushing her grief from her mind, she continued on her way to the side of King Stephanos, as Vang ascended to the high table. She would need to join them soon, but she still had a little time to spare. “Hello, Your Majesty,” she said, willing a rather shaky smile to curve her lips. She had not seem him either in the last six days and hardly knew what to say to him and she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "If there's music later, will you dance with me?"
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Listening politely but impatiently to an older noblewoman extolling the virtues of her grandchildren, Athanasia heard the announcement heralding her mother's entrance, and excused herself with the excuse that she must greet her. Before she had walked more than a few steps, a gaggle of vapid girls clustered around her, exclaiming over every piece of her ensemble. No doubt they'll be copying my style within a week, she thought. Her ruffled himation had been an invention of her personal seamstress and she'd never seen anything like it before. Though she wished to keep the design for herself, it would probably become a trend soon and her seamstress would have to create something else unique for the princess.
As her mother passed by, Athanasia noticed her approving look and smiled, pleased that she was proud of her. It took every inch of willpower she had not to tell her admirers to shove off, particularly when they began sharing the latest gossip. Her eyes widened when she heard Imeeya's name mentioned. She had a lover she had met at the docks? A pirate? Surely that was just hearsay. Yet what if it wasn't? Most rumors had at least a grain of truth to them. If she was seeing someone, anyone, in secret … particularly at an unsavory place like the docks ... Imeeya was a hypocrite for accusing her of impropriety because of a simple kiss that had been completely unexpected.
Was this a new relationship, or had she been seeing this man, whoever he was, before they left for Taengea? It was difficult to believe that the rumors had been made up out of spite. They were too specific. Somebody had seen something suspicious involving her favorite cousin and best friend. It could have been an accidental and innocent encounter, but what had Imeeya been doing at the docks to begin with?
Anger rose within the young princess as she spotted the subject of the gossip walking toward her. Athanasia shot her a venomous glare, breaking away from the circle of noblewoman and heading toward her mother, who was speaking to King Stephanos. He would always be the King of Taengea to her despite the fact that his uncle had deceitfully overthrown him. He and his Queen must be feeling awkward tonight, strangers in the kingdom that had taken them in. Her mother broke away from him and went to speak to Evras and her family and then her brother arrived and was announced.
She paused and looked up at him as he descended the stairs, forgetting her irritation with Imeeya for a moment. Vangelis wore his new kingship well. He looked as regal as her father, dressed in crimson and black, the crown that had once graced the late King's head sparkling in the light. A pang of sorrow pierced her heart as a memory of her father danced through her mind. He had been exiting the throne room as she passed by accompanied by her nurse, and he had scooped her up in his arms and swung her around. Athanasia had reached up to touch his crown and he had taken it off and held it over her tiny head, proclaiming her the Queen of his heart. She had been all of three years old.
Pushing her grief from her mind, she continued on her way to the side of King Stephanos, as Vang ascended to the high table. She would need to join them soon, but she still had a little time to spare. “Hello, Your Majesty,” she said, willing a rather shaky smile to curve her lips. She had not seem him either in the last six days and hardly knew what to say to him and she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "If there's music later, will you dance with me?"
Listening politely but impatiently to an older noblewoman extolling the virtues of her grandchildren, Athanasia heard the announcement heralding her mother's entrance, and excused herself with the excuse that she must greet her. Before she had walked more than a few steps, a gaggle of vapid girls clustered around her, exclaiming over every piece of her ensemble. No doubt they'll be copying my style within a week, she thought. Her ruffled himation had been an invention of her personal seamstress and she'd never seen anything like it before. Though she wished to keep the design for herself, it would probably become a trend soon and her seamstress would have to create something else unique for the princess.
As her mother passed by, Athanasia noticed her approving look and smiled, pleased that she was proud of her. It took every inch of willpower she had not to tell her admirers to shove off, particularly when they began sharing the latest gossip. Her eyes widened when she heard Imeeya's name mentioned. She had a lover she had met at the docks? A pirate? Surely that was just hearsay. Yet what if it wasn't? Most rumors had at least a grain of truth to them. If she was seeing someone, anyone, in secret … particularly at an unsavory place like the docks ... Imeeya was a hypocrite for accusing her of impropriety because of a simple kiss that had been completely unexpected.
Was this a new relationship, or had she been seeing this man, whoever he was, before they left for Taengea? It was difficult to believe that the rumors had been made up out of spite. They were too specific. Somebody had seen something suspicious involving her favorite cousin and best friend. It could have been an accidental and innocent encounter, but what had Imeeya been doing at the docks to begin with?
Anger rose within the young princess as she spotted the subject of the gossip walking toward her. Athanasia shot her a venomous glare, breaking away from the circle of noblewoman and heading toward her mother, who was speaking to King Stephanos. He would always be the King of Taengea to her despite the fact that his uncle had deceitfully overthrown him. He and his Queen must be feeling awkward tonight, strangers in the kingdom that had taken them in. Her mother broke away from him and went to speak to Evras and her family and then her brother arrived and was announced.
She paused and looked up at him as he descended the stairs, forgetting her irritation with Imeeya for a moment. Vangelis wore his new kingship well. He looked as regal as her father, dressed in crimson and black, the crown that had once graced the late King's head sparkling in the light. A pang of sorrow pierced her heart as a memory of her father danced through her mind. He had been exiting the throne room as she passed by accompanied by her nurse, and he had scooped her up in his arms and swung her around. Athanasia had reached up to touch his crown and he had taken it off and held it over her tiny head, proclaiming her the Queen of his heart. She had been all of three years old.
Pushing her grief from her mind, she continued on her way to the side of King Stephanos, as Vang ascended to the high table. She would need to join them soon, but she still had a little time to spare. “Hello, Your Majesty,” she said, willing a rather shaky smile to curve her lips. She had not seem him either in the last six days and hardly knew what to say to him and she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "If there's music later, will you dance with me?"
Leto worked very hard to keep her face from exploding into her usual broad smile, instead taking a page from the book Iolanthe had been teaching to her and raising a slight brow and pursing her lips into a more demure smile. The glint in her eyes only brightened as she watched her friend's eyes take in this new, spit-shined version of herself. To be quite fair, only an hour or so before did she find herself doing the same thing in the polished silver looking glass before stepping out of her home. It was still a sight to see.
"It could be considered a blessing, not having many know who we are," she noted, glancing around at the room of nobles. Her brother likely knew all of their names and their family members and their deepest secrets. To her, they were like dimly cloaked birds in a cage, their usual brightly-colored feathers muted by the nature of their meeting on this night. "It is much like a peek behind the curtain without the impacts of gossip or manipulation. I do not envy my brother's occupation, in that sense."
Leto met his offer of wine with a small nod and a slight glance back towards Iolanthe, who seemed to have a glass of her own. One glass could not hurt, right? Magnus had pinned her with a slight warning of a stare last time she had been to court, and she had hardly taken a sip. He was very prone to never fully finishing a glass, lest it muddle his thoughts. Then again, that was his issue - not hers - and furthermore, he was not here.
Motioning lightly to a server in a manner that was polite and appropriate, as she had been taught, they were both given glasses of ruby red wine, and she caught Maleos' eye again. Proposing the smallest and quietest of toasts, she offered, "To being nameless and faceless in a crowded room?"
Glancing around so as to make sure they did not draw terribly much attention, she clinked their glasses together and took a sip. There was an appropriate amount of distance between them so as not to cause too many questions, though Leto's eyes continually scanned the room to ensure it was so. Her eyes once again fell on Silanos before flicking again to other familiar faces, including the Queen Yanni whom she had met at the last court session. Milling about were other faces she had grown familiar in seeing from a distance, usually by the way Magnus had describe their appearances - the Thanasi were easiest to spot.
As Leto let her finger trace the rim of her glass, she mused on potential conversation pieces when they were approached by a rather broad and extroverted military man, causing Leto to blink more than once as he spoke. His compliments sent an immediate flush to her cheeks, more stunned than coy at his approach and outright contrast to Maleos' more reserved nature. A nervous chuckle bubbled at the base of her throat and she tried to cover it with a sip of wine so as not to lose her composure so early in the evening. After letting a few glances pass between Captain Damocles and Maleos, she spoke.
"Captain Damocles, it's an honor," she added, dipping into a curtsey, "Leto of Chaossis. The only real laud to my name is that I am sister to the Master Informer, Magnus of Chaossis." She paused a moment, trying to collect a thought together or two, thinking through the few rife conversation starters that would be of interest, when she was saved by the announced arrival of their new monarch, King Vangelis of Kotas.
The room seemed to completely come to a pause as they acknowledge their new ruler, Leto dipping into a deeper curtsey than before and when allowed to stand, immediately glancing towards Lady Iolanthe for further guidance. It seemed that now that the King had arrived, the banquet would begin.
"Captains, I must return to my escort," she offered, dipping her head once to Captain Damocles before looking to Maleos, her expression blending a soft, sad smile that their time was cut short, but then a familiar glint again. "I do not doubt the gods will allow our paths to cross again before the night is through." Dipping into a curtsey and offering Maleos a small smile, she gracefully turned towards the tables where Iolanthe lingered.
Now, it was time for the true challenge. Seeing Maleos was a pleasant surprise, but once again she had to don the player's mask she had formed over the passing few weeks to associate with the higher class. It seemed that they were to sit near the far end of a table, and Leto placed her glass down where indicated and curtsied to the young, dark blond woman across from her at the very last seat.
"My Lady," Leto stated, offering a smile that she hoped look more confident than uncertain, though she knew that there was at least some mixture of those two ingredients in her expression. Taking a seat, she glanced toward Iolanthe who seemed to be tying up some words with a few other attendees. Though Leto far preferred being introduced so as not to seem terribly forward, too much time had awkwardly passed as she sat down across from the noblewoman, and she took a sip of her wine to boost her confidence a moment as she offered, "Leto of Chaossis. It is a pleasure to meet you."
Leto blinked a moment, realizing that she had not properly met the noblewoman, as there was no exchange of words.
By the gods, had she bolloxed this up already?
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Leto worked very hard to keep her face from exploding into her usual broad smile, instead taking a page from the book Iolanthe had been teaching to her and raising a slight brow and pursing her lips into a more demure smile. The glint in her eyes only brightened as she watched her friend's eyes take in this new, spit-shined version of herself. To be quite fair, only an hour or so before did she find herself doing the same thing in the polished silver looking glass before stepping out of her home. It was still a sight to see.
"It could be considered a blessing, not having many know who we are," she noted, glancing around at the room of nobles. Her brother likely knew all of their names and their family members and their deepest secrets. To her, they were like dimly cloaked birds in a cage, their usual brightly-colored feathers muted by the nature of their meeting on this night. "It is much like a peek behind the curtain without the impacts of gossip or manipulation. I do not envy my brother's occupation, in that sense."
Leto met his offer of wine with a small nod and a slight glance back towards Iolanthe, who seemed to have a glass of her own. One glass could not hurt, right? Magnus had pinned her with a slight warning of a stare last time she had been to court, and she had hardly taken a sip. He was very prone to never fully finishing a glass, lest it muddle his thoughts. Then again, that was his issue - not hers - and furthermore, he was not here.
Motioning lightly to a server in a manner that was polite and appropriate, as she had been taught, they were both given glasses of ruby red wine, and she caught Maleos' eye again. Proposing the smallest and quietest of toasts, she offered, "To being nameless and faceless in a crowded room?"
Glancing around so as to make sure they did not draw terribly much attention, she clinked their glasses together and took a sip. There was an appropriate amount of distance between them so as not to cause too many questions, though Leto's eyes continually scanned the room to ensure it was so. Her eyes once again fell on Silanos before flicking again to other familiar faces, including the Queen Yanni whom she had met at the last court session. Milling about were other faces she had grown familiar in seeing from a distance, usually by the way Magnus had describe their appearances - the Thanasi were easiest to spot.
As Leto let her finger trace the rim of her glass, she mused on potential conversation pieces when they were approached by a rather broad and extroverted military man, causing Leto to blink more than once as he spoke. His compliments sent an immediate flush to her cheeks, more stunned than coy at his approach and outright contrast to Maleos' more reserved nature. A nervous chuckle bubbled at the base of her throat and she tried to cover it with a sip of wine so as not to lose her composure so early in the evening. After letting a few glances pass between Captain Damocles and Maleos, she spoke.
"Captain Damocles, it's an honor," she added, dipping into a curtsey, "Leto of Chaossis. The only real laud to my name is that I am sister to the Master Informer, Magnus of Chaossis." She paused a moment, trying to collect a thought together or two, thinking through the few rife conversation starters that would be of interest, when she was saved by the announced arrival of their new monarch, King Vangelis of Kotas.
The room seemed to completely come to a pause as they acknowledge their new ruler, Leto dipping into a deeper curtsey than before and when allowed to stand, immediately glancing towards Lady Iolanthe for further guidance. It seemed that now that the King had arrived, the banquet would begin.
"Captains, I must return to my escort," she offered, dipping her head once to Captain Damocles before looking to Maleos, her expression blending a soft, sad smile that their time was cut short, but then a familiar glint again. "I do not doubt the gods will allow our paths to cross again before the night is through." Dipping into a curtsey and offering Maleos a small smile, she gracefully turned towards the tables where Iolanthe lingered.
Now, it was time for the true challenge. Seeing Maleos was a pleasant surprise, but once again she had to don the player's mask she had formed over the passing few weeks to associate with the higher class. It seemed that they were to sit near the far end of a table, and Leto placed her glass down where indicated and curtsied to the young, dark blond woman across from her at the very last seat.
"My Lady," Leto stated, offering a smile that she hoped look more confident than uncertain, though she knew that there was at least some mixture of those two ingredients in her expression. Taking a seat, she glanced toward Iolanthe who seemed to be tying up some words with a few other attendees. Though Leto far preferred being introduced so as not to seem terribly forward, too much time had awkwardly passed as she sat down across from the noblewoman, and she took a sip of her wine to boost her confidence a moment as she offered, "Leto of Chaossis. It is a pleasure to meet you."
Leto blinked a moment, realizing that she had not properly met the noblewoman, as there was no exchange of words.
By the gods, had she bolloxed this up already?
Leto worked very hard to keep her face from exploding into her usual broad smile, instead taking a page from the book Iolanthe had been teaching to her and raising a slight brow and pursing her lips into a more demure smile. The glint in her eyes only brightened as she watched her friend's eyes take in this new, spit-shined version of herself. To be quite fair, only an hour or so before did she find herself doing the same thing in the polished silver looking glass before stepping out of her home. It was still a sight to see.
"It could be considered a blessing, not having many know who we are," she noted, glancing around at the room of nobles. Her brother likely knew all of their names and their family members and their deepest secrets. To her, they were like dimly cloaked birds in a cage, their usual brightly-colored feathers muted by the nature of their meeting on this night. "It is much like a peek behind the curtain without the impacts of gossip or manipulation. I do not envy my brother's occupation, in that sense."
Leto met his offer of wine with a small nod and a slight glance back towards Iolanthe, who seemed to have a glass of her own. One glass could not hurt, right? Magnus had pinned her with a slight warning of a stare last time she had been to court, and she had hardly taken a sip. He was very prone to never fully finishing a glass, lest it muddle his thoughts. Then again, that was his issue - not hers - and furthermore, he was not here.
Motioning lightly to a server in a manner that was polite and appropriate, as she had been taught, they were both given glasses of ruby red wine, and she caught Maleos' eye again. Proposing the smallest and quietest of toasts, she offered, "To being nameless and faceless in a crowded room?"
Glancing around so as to make sure they did not draw terribly much attention, she clinked their glasses together and took a sip. There was an appropriate amount of distance between them so as not to cause too many questions, though Leto's eyes continually scanned the room to ensure it was so. Her eyes once again fell on Silanos before flicking again to other familiar faces, including the Queen Yanni whom she had met at the last court session. Milling about were other faces she had grown familiar in seeing from a distance, usually by the way Magnus had describe their appearances - the Thanasi were easiest to spot.
As Leto let her finger trace the rim of her glass, she mused on potential conversation pieces when they were approached by a rather broad and extroverted military man, causing Leto to blink more than once as he spoke. His compliments sent an immediate flush to her cheeks, more stunned than coy at his approach and outright contrast to Maleos' more reserved nature. A nervous chuckle bubbled at the base of her throat and she tried to cover it with a sip of wine so as not to lose her composure so early in the evening. After letting a few glances pass between Captain Damocles and Maleos, she spoke.
"Captain Damocles, it's an honor," she added, dipping into a curtsey, "Leto of Chaossis. The only real laud to my name is that I am sister to the Master Informer, Magnus of Chaossis." She paused a moment, trying to collect a thought together or two, thinking through the few rife conversation starters that would be of interest, when she was saved by the announced arrival of their new monarch, King Vangelis of Kotas.
The room seemed to completely come to a pause as they acknowledge their new ruler, Leto dipping into a deeper curtsey than before and when allowed to stand, immediately glancing towards Lady Iolanthe for further guidance. It seemed that now that the King had arrived, the banquet would begin.
"Captains, I must return to my escort," she offered, dipping her head once to Captain Damocles before looking to Maleos, her expression blending a soft, sad smile that their time was cut short, but then a familiar glint again. "I do not doubt the gods will allow our paths to cross again before the night is through." Dipping into a curtsey and offering Maleos a small smile, she gracefully turned towards the tables where Iolanthe lingered.
Now, it was time for the true challenge. Seeing Maleos was a pleasant surprise, but once again she had to don the player's mask she had formed over the passing few weeks to associate with the higher class. It seemed that they were to sit near the far end of a table, and Leto placed her glass down where indicated and curtsied to the young, dark blond woman across from her at the very last seat.
"My Lady," Leto stated, offering a smile that she hoped look more confident than uncertain, though she knew that there was at least some mixture of those two ingredients in her expression. Taking a seat, she glanced toward Iolanthe who seemed to be tying up some words with a few other attendees. Though Leto far preferred being introduced so as not to seem terribly forward, too much time had awkwardly passed as she sat down across from the noblewoman, and she took a sip of her wine to boost her confidence a moment as she offered, "Leto of Chaossis. It is a pleasure to meet you."
Leto blinked a moment, realizing that she had not properly met the noblewoman, as there was no exchange of words.
By the gods, had she bolloxed this up already?
Silanos made a good pretence of paying attention to whatever his companion was prattling on about, smiling and nodding at appropriate moments, and when he was not looking over her shoulder for who was arriving, let his gaze drop often enough to the petals of her lips, the sharp edge of her collarbones to suggest she held his interest still. She did not.
With each new entrance it seemed as though the Lord could only add to the list of those he should be avoiding. The Princess Evras who he did not dare glance at for more than a moment, the catalyst to the whole dismal turn of events that was his life right now. Lady Imeeya, and her fearsome mother who Sil could only hope had not learned of the week’s earlier mishap.
Then the Princess Asia who Silanos would not look at all, despite the fact he knew he probably owed her an apology. His stomach churned thinking about it, that yet another thing for the new King to hold against him had become known. Distracted, the lord’s eyes flickered unconsciously to his brother, whom he still had not told of the fact. He knew he ought to, but with Timaeus already angry enough to throw him into the hands of fucking Maleos, he hadn’t quite plucked up the nerve. He was still wearing the badges of that first day's training, the cut on his lip was scabbed over but it pulled when he smiled, and there was dark and obvious bruising along the line of his jaw which even the scruff of stubble didn't conceal.
It was disconcerting watching a parade of all his errors from his very sober standpoint, and the water in his cup seemed dismally inadequate. He would stay long enough to pass the feast and no more. They would be seated for the meal, and if he engineered it well enough he would have to speak to his immediate neighbours.
“....are you even listening, my Lord?” The slightly petulant voice of the blonde had Sil blink and return his focus to her, where he couldn’t even come up with a convincing lie.
“No” Silanos admitted. ”What is it?” He could hardly imagine it was anything interesting, but she managed to surprise him, and the young man’s brows lifted in surprise as he broke one of his own rules to look over at Lady Imeeya of Drakos. “Not so much of a Lady after all then?” he mused, watching the girl with a new interest despite the..uh..accident of their encounter scant days before. “A pirate you say?”.Oh he would enjoy this. As soon as he’d given the poppy incident time to breathe, or had at least say in how he spent his own time again, he would be asking Lady Imeeya about her nocturnal wenching activities. She didn’t get to lecture him on propriety when she was busy slumming it in her spare time.
The momentary amusement was quickly extinguished though at the announcement of the King’s arrival, and Sil had to physically stop himself from taking a step back to try and disappear into the foliage that sprung up from various planters at the very edges of the room. Instead, he dipped into a bow that would hopefully keep his face from notice as first the King then the Crown Prince entered the chamber.
Sil twisted then, feeling the need for a friendly face, and he was glad to see his cousin Iolanthe standing to the end of one of the tables. She was a safe haven in a room full of hazards and so the younger Valaoritis lord turned to the girl who he had been talking to and made his excuses, ignoring the pouty set of her face as he took his leave. Edging his way around the outskirts of the room, he managed to reach the older woman, sidling up next to her and offering a nod of greeting. “Cousin”. Iolanthe was perhaps one of the few he had genuinely missed whilst he had been in Taengea, for she had always been kindly, almost indulgent toward him. And after her catching him at a low ebb upon her visit, she was now in possession of almost all of his secrets. He did not let on to such though, forcing a tone brighter than he felt.
“How do you find the company this evening? Is there still no sign of your sneaky suitor? Is he here?” He looked for the Master of Secrets, only to find himself instead looking upon the man’s younger sister as she made her way toward their corner of the room. Sil allowed himself the smallest of smiles. She scrubbed up well, but he preferred the sleepy, salty version of her he’d bid farewell to a couple of weeks earlier. Wondering how she would play seeing him again, he was prevented from finding out as the girl diverted to the nearest table where he now noted Imeeya of Drakos had already situated herself.
Fuck. That was not ideal. But he could hardly make an escape now, and Iolanthe was at least someone he could trust not to get himself into any trouble with. He would just have to brazen it out with Imeeya. And if she alluded to anything...well he had a little ammunition of his own now. Silanos pulled out a seat for his cousin, waited for her to be seated before claiming one for himself.Glancing between Imeeya and Leto, he slid quietly into it without his usual flamboyance.
“Lady Imeeya” he nodded to her, making the greeting as brief as possible, and then turning his gaze upon Leto,waiting with some amusement to see how she wanted to handle this. He let himself enjoy her expression for a moment before putting her out of her misery and asking with a false ignorance. “Who is your friend?”
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Silanos made a good pretence of paying attention to whatever his companion was prattling on about, smiling and nodding at appropriate moments, and when he was not looking over her shoulder for who was arriving, let his gaze drop often enough to the petals of her lips, the sharp edge of her collarbones to suggest she held his interest still. She did not.
With each new entrance it seemed as though the Lord could only add to the list of those he should be avoiding. The Princess Evras who he did not dare glance at for more than a moment, the catalyst to the whole dismal turn of events that was his life right now. Lady Imeeya, and her fearsome mother who Sil could only hope had not learned of the week’s earlier mishap.
Then the Princess Asia who Silanos would not look at all, despite the fact he knew he probably owed her an apology. His stomach churned thinking about it, that yet another thing for the new King to hold against him had become known. Distracted, the lord’s eyes flickered unconsciously to his brother, whom he still had not told of the fact. He knew he ought to, but with Timaeus already angry enough to throw him into the hands of fucking Maleos, he hadn’t quite plucked up the nerve. He was still wearing the badges of that first day's training, the cut on his lip was scabbed over but it pulled when he smiled, and there was dark and obvious bruising along the line of his jaw which even the scruff of stubble didn't conceal.
It was disconcerting watching a parade of all his errors from his very sober standpoint, and the water in his cup seemed dismally inadequate. He would stay long enough to pass the feast and no more. They would be seated for the meal, and if he engineered it well enough he would have to speak to his immediate neighbours.
“....are you even listening, my Lord?” The slightly petulant voice of the blonde had Sil blink and return his focus to her, where he couldn’t even come up with a convincing lie.
“No” Silanos admitted. ”What is it?” He could hardly imagine it was anything interesting, but she managed to surprise him, and the young man’s brows lifted in surprise as he broke one of his own rules to look over at Lady Imeeya of Drakos. “Not so much of a Lady after all then?” he mused, watching the girl with a new interest despite the..uh..accident of their encounter scant days before. “A pirate you say?”.Oh he would enjoy this. As soon as he’d given the poppy incident time to breathe, or had at least say in how he spent his own time again, he would be asking Lady Imeeya about her nocturnal wenching activities. She didn’t get to lecture him on propriety when she was busy slumming it in her spare time.
The momentary amusement was quickly extinguished though at the announcement of the King’s arrival, and Sil had to physically stop himself from taking a step back to try and disappear into the foliage that sprung up from various planters at the very edges of the room. Instead, he dipped into a bow that would hopefully keep his face from notice as first the King then the Crown Prince entered the chamber.
Sil twisted then, feeling the need for a friendly face, and he was glad to see his cousin Iolanthe standing to the end of one of the tables. She was a safe haven in a room full of hazards and so the younger Valaoritis lord turned to the girl who he had been talking to and made his excuses, ignoring the pouty set of her face as he took his leave. Edging his way around the outskirts of the room, he managed to reach the older woman, sidling up next to her and offering a nod of greeting. “Cousin”. Iolanthe was perhaps one of the few he had genuinely missed whilst he had been in Taengea, for she had always been kindly, almost indulgent toward him. And after her catching him at a low ebb upon her visit, she was now in possession of almost all of his secrets. He did not let on to such though, forcing a tone brighter than he felt.
“How do you find the company this evening? Is there still no sign of your sneaky suitor? Is he here?” He looked for the Master of Secrets, only to find himself instead looking upon the man’s younger sister as she made her way toward their corner of the room. Sil allowed himself the smallest of smiles. She scrubbed up well, but he preferred the sleepy, salty version of her he’d bid farewell to a couple of weeks earlier. Wondering how she would play seeing him again, he was prevented from finding out as the girl diverted to the nearest table where he now noted Imeeya of Drakos had already situated herself.
Fuck. That was not ideal. But he could hardly make an escape now, and Iolanthe was at least someone he could trust not to get himself into any trouble with. He would just have to brazen it out with Imeeya. And if she alluded to anything...well he had a little ammunition of his own now. Silanos pulled out a seat for his cousin, waited for her to be seated before claiming one for himself.Glancing between Imeeya and Leto, he slid quietly into it without his usual flamboyance.
“Lady Imeeya” he nodded to her, making the greeting as brief as possible, and then turning his gaze upon Leto,waiting with some amusement to see how she wanted to handle this. He let himself enjoy her expression for a moment before putting her out of her misery and asking with a false ignorance. “Who is your friend?”
Silanos made a good pretence of paying attention to whatever his companion was prattling on about, smiling and nodding at appropriate moments, and when he was not looking over her shoulder for who was arriving, let his gaze drop often enough to the petals of her lips, the sharp edge of her collarbones to suggest she held his interest still. She did not.
With each new entrance it seemed as though the Lord could only add to the list of those he should be avoiding. The Princess Evras who he did not dare glance at for more than a moment, the catalyst to the whole dismal turn of events that was his life right now. Lady Imeeya, and her fearsome mother who Sil could only hope had not learned of the week’s earlier mishap.
Then the Princess Asia who Silanos would not look at all, despite the fact he knew he probably owed her an apology. His stomach churned thinking about it, that yet another thing for the new King to hold against him had become known. Distracted, the lord’s eyes flickered unconsciously to his brother, whom he still had not told of the fact. He knew he ought to, but with Timaeus already angry enough to throw him into the hands of fucking Maleos, he hadn’t quite plucked up the nerve. He was still wearing the badges of that first day's training, the cut on his lip was scabbed over but it pulled when he smiled, and there was dark and obvious bruising along the line of his jaw which even the scruff of stubble didn't conceal.
It was disconcerting watching a parade of all his errors from his very sober standpoint, and the water in his cup seemed dismally inadequate. He would stay long enough to pass the feast and no more. They would be seated for the meal, and if he engineered it well enough he would have to speak to his immediate neighbours.
“....are you even listening, my Lord?” The slightly petulant voice of the blonde had Sil blink and return his focus to her, where he couldn’t even come up with a convincing lie.
“No” Silanos admitted. ”What is it?” He could hardly imagine it was anything interesting, but she managed to surprise him, and the young man’s brows lifted in surprise as he broke one of his own rules to look over at Lady Imeeya of Drakos. “Not so much of a Lady after all then?” he mused, watching the girl with a new interest despite the..uh..accident of their encounter scant days before. “A pirate you say?”.Oh he would enjoy this. As soon as he’d given the poppy incident time to breathe, or had at least say in how he spent his own time again, he would be asking Lady Imeeya about her nocturnal wenching activities. She didn’t get to lecture him on propriety when she was busy slumming it in her spare time.
The momentary amusement was quickly extinguished though at the announcement of the King’s arrival, and Sil had to physically stop himself from taking a step back to try and disappear into the foliage that sprung up from various planters at the very edges of the room. Instead, he dipped into a bow that would hopefully keep his face from notice as first the King then the Crown Prince entered the chamber.
Sil twisted then, feeling the need for a friendly face, and he was glad to see his cousin Iolanthe standing to the end of one of the tables. She was a safe haven in a room full of hazards and so the younger Valaoritis lord turned to the girl who he had been talking to and made his excuses, ignoring the pouty set of her face as he took his leave. Edging his way around the outskirts of the room, he managed to reach the older woman, sidling up next to her and offering a nod of greeting. “Cousin”. Iolanthe was perhaps one of the few he had genuinely missed whilst he had been in Taengea, for she had always been kindly, almost indulgent toward him. And after her catching him at a low ebb upon her visit, she was now in possession of almost all of his secrets. He did not let on to such though, forcing a tone brighter than he felt.
“How do you find the company this evening? Is there still no sign of your sneaky suitor? Is he here?” He looked for the Master of Secrets, only to find himself instead looking upon the man’s younger sister as she made her way toward their corner of the room. Sil allowed himself the smallest of smiles. She scrubbed up well, but he preferred the sleepy, salty version of her he’d bid farewell to a couple of weeks earlier. Wondering how she would play seeing him again, he was prevented from finding out as the girl diverted to the nearest table where he now noted Imeeya of Drakos had already situated herself.
Fuck. That was not ideal. But he could hardly make an escape now, and Iolanthe was at least someone he could trust not to get himself into any trouble with. He would just have to brazen it out with Imeeya. And if she alluded to anything...well he had a little ammunition of his own now. Silanos pulled out a seat for his cousin, waited for her to be seated before claiming one for himself.Glancing between Imeeya and Leto, he slid quietly into it without his usual flamboyance.
“Lady Imeeya” he nodded to her, making the greeting as brief as possible, and then turning his gaze upon Leto,waiting with some amusement to see how she wanted to handle this. He let himself enjoy her expression for a moment before putting her out of her misery and asking with a false ignorance. “Who is your friend?”
“I very much consider myself blessed that I am save from most court affairs.” He said in a light and teasing tone, something that only two people were ever able to bring out of him, Leto and Timaeus were the only ones he cared to joke with.
He took the glass of wine as it was brought, and for a split second there was a grin on his face at her toast, he lifted his glass and touched it to hers, quickly gaining control of the grin as it disappeared from his face lest someone wonder why the normally serious Captain had such a look on his face. He had a hard time around her when it came to not smiling, there was just something about her that brought it out in him.
“To being nameless and faceless in a crowded room.” He repeated in just as quiet of a tone as she had initially used. It was a private moment between them despite the number of other people in the room, and one that Maleos cherished more than he thought he would.
Their moment was broken shortly after as they were approached, and a loud voice greeted them both. He felt immediately overwhelmed by his presence, the man proving to be the exact opposite in personality as Maleos.
“Captain Damocles.” He greeted, giving him a bit of a respectful nod before the other Captain turned his attentions on Leto, and Maleos did the same, hoping she caught the look of apology in his eyes for the sudden interruption before they were able to speak much.
“Yes, lady Leto is a friend of mine from childhood. Her father crafts the best swords in all of Colchis. In fact, I still carry the very one I purchased as a young man.” He said, taking the moment to speak praises of her father’s work, because he truly meant what he said. He thought no other swordsmith could compare to her father’s craftsmanship.
The room fell silent as their new ruler entered the room, and everyone began to take their appropriate places at the tables to prepare for the beginning of the feast, and Maleos felt a bit of disappointment that his and Leto’s meeting would come to such an abrupt end. He covered his disappointment with a drink from his wine glass.
“Nor do I.” He replied to Leto as she spoke of their paths crossing again by the will of the Gods. It seemed as such, everywhere he turned, she was there, and he remembered her words at the temple upon their first meeting since they had grown to adulthood, how she felt as if the Gods were drawing them to one another. The thought comforted him and had him lost in his thoughts for just a moment before he realized he was staring as she walked away.
He quickly averted his gaze back to his fellow Captain, hoping he didn’t catch the lingering gaze he had given Leto.
“It has been awhile since we have last spoken. Come, let us take our seats and you may regale me with tales of your days since our last meeting.” He said, as it seemed he would be stuck with the man for the rest of the night. At least it was another man of the military and they had a bit in common, even if their personalities clashed.
He headed for a table where the other small number of military men who had been invited to the court event were gathering, and he took a seat among them, sitting across from an empty spot so Damocles may occupy it if he wished to continue their conversation.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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“I very much consider myself blessed that I am save from most court affairs.” He said in a light and teasing tone, something that only two people were ever able to bring out of him, Leto and Timaeus were the only ones he cared to joke with.
He took the glass of wine as it was brought, and for a split second there was a grin on his face at her toast, he lifted his glass and touched it to hers, quickly gaining control of the grin as it disappeared from his face lest someone wonder why the normally serious Captain had such a look on his face. He had a hard time around her when it came to not smiling, there was just something about her that brought it out in him.
“To being nameless and faceless in a crowded room.” He repeated in just as quiet of a tone as she had initially used. It was a private moment between them despite the number of other people in the room, and one that Maleos cherished more than he thought he would.
Their moment was broken shortly after as they were approached, and a loud voice greeted them both. He felt immediately overwhelmed by his presence, the man proving to be the exact opposite in personality as Maleos.
“Captain Damocles.” He greeted, giving him a bit of a respectful nod before the other Captain turned his attentions on Leto, and Maleos did the same, hoping she caught the look of apology in his eyes for the sudden interruption before they were able to speak much.
“Yes, lady Leto is a friend of mine from childhood. Her father crafts the best swords in all of Colchis. In fact, I still carry the very one I purchased as a young man.” He said, taking the moment to speak praises of her father’s work, because he truly meant what he said. He thought no other swordsmith could compare to her father’s craftsmanship.
The room fell silent as their new ruler entered the room, and everyone began to take their appropriate places at the tables to prepare for the beginning of the feast, and Maleos felt a bit of disappointment that his and Leto’s meeting would come to such an abrupt end. He covered his disappointment with a drink from his wine glass.
“Nor do I.” He replied to Leto as she spoke of their paths crossing again by the will of the Gods. It seemed as such, everywhere he turned, she was there, and he remembered her words at the temple upon their first meeting since they had grown to adulthood, how she felt as if the Gods were drawing them to one another. The thought comforted him and had him lost in his thoughts for just a moment before he realized he was staring as she walked away.
He quickly averted his gaze back to his fellow Captain, hoping he didn’t catch the lingering gaze he had given Leto.
“It has been awhile since we have last spoken. Come, let us take our seats and you may regale me with tales of your days since our last meeting.” He said, as it seemed he would be stuck with the man for the rest of the night. At least it was another man of the military and they had a bit in common, even if their personalities clashed.
He headed for a table where the other small number of military men who had been invited to the court event were gathering, and he took a seat among them, sitting across from an empty spot so Damocles may occupy it if he wished to continue their conversation.
“I very much consider myself blessed that I am save from most court affairs.” He said in a light and teasing tone, something that only two people were ever able to bring out of him, Leto and Timaeus were the only ones he cared to joke with.
He took the glass of wine as it was brought, and for a split second there was a grin on his face at her toast, he lifted his glass and touched it to hers, quickly gaining control of the grin as it disappeared from his face lest someone wonder why the normally serious Captain had such a look on his face. He had a hard time around her when it came to not smiling, there was just something about her that brought it out in him.
“To being nameless and faceless in a crowded room.” He repeated in just as quiet of a tone as she had initially used. It was a private moment between them despite the number of other people in the room, and one that Maleos cherished more than he thought he would.
Their moment was broken shortly after as they were approached, and a loud voice greeted them both. He felt immediately overwhelmed by his presence, the man proving to be the exact opposite in personality as Maleos.
“Captain Damocles.” He greeted, giving him a bit of a respectful nod before the other Captain turned his attentions on Leto, and Maleos did the same, hoping she caught the look of apology in his eyes for the sudden interruption before they were able to speak much.
“Yes, lady Leto is a friend of mine from childhood. Her father crafts the best swords in all of Colchis. In fact, I still carry the very one I purchased as a young man.” He said, taking the moment to speak praises of her father’s work, because he truly meant what he said. He thought no other swordsmith could compare to her father’s craftsmanship.
The room fell silent as their new ruler entered the room, and everyone began to take their appropriate places at the tables to prepare for the beginning of the feast, and Maleos felt a bit of disappointment that his and Leto’s meeting would come to such an abrupt end. He covered his disappointment with a drink from his wine glass.
“Nor do I.” He replied to Leto as she spoke of their paths crossing again by the will of the Gods. It seemed as such, everywhere he turned, she was there, and he remembered her words at the temple upon their first meeting since they had grown to adulthood, how she felt as if the Gods were drawing them to one another. The thought comforted him and had him lost in his thoughts for just a moment before he realized he was staring as she walked away.
He quickly averted his gaze back to his fellow Captain, hoping he didn’t catch the lingering gaze he had given Leto.
“It has been awhile since we have last spoken. Come, let us take our seats and you may regale me with tales of your days since our last meeting.” He said, as it seemed he would be stuck with the man for the rest of the night. At least it was another man of the military and they had a bit in common, even if their personalities clashed.
He headed for a table where the other small number of military men who had been invited to the court event were gathering, and he took a seat among them, sitting across from an empty spot so Damocles may occupy it if he wished to continue their conversation.
Like everyone else, Stephanos had turned and watched with something between pity and serpentine jealousy as Vangelis walked down the stairs in a sombre fashion. The crown suited Vangelis, as did the crimson and the black. He and Vangelis were not so very different in terms of form and height, but Vangelis barely smiled and always seemed to know what to do, even if he didn’t. Stephanos dropped his attention to his wine and uselessly swirled it around in his cup. He was in real danger of not being able to dredge his thoughts out of this downward spiral they were funneling into, when Princess Athanasia breezed up to him.
The distraction was more than welcome and he forced out a smile for her. She looked beautiful in a kind of style he’d never seen before but he didn’t get the chance to say this first. She greeted him without preamble “Hello, Your Majesty.”
“Good evening, your highness,” he returned, unsure how he felt about her addressing him in his still accurate, yet not accurate title. It was both gratifying and twisted like a knife in his chest at the same time, making it so that he felt a little out of breath for a few seconds. In the lull, she looked like she was also uncomfortable about something, though he couldn’t guess what, unless she was thinking of her father, which was likely. He thought of his deceased parent often. What came out of her mouth, though, had nothing to do with where he’d assumed her thoughts were.
”If there's music later, will you dance with me?" she asked in a rush.
He smiled genuinely this time. One of his more charming, bright ones that he hadn’t used on anyone in what felt like forever. For the past few days, life with his wife had been almost nothing but miserable. The new baby cried every few hours, which he did not begrudge, but it helped no one’s sleep. Olympia was on edge, all the decorations in their room had needed to be redone and he was embarrassed about that. That both of them had lost their tempers in such a catastrophic way.
“I want nothing more than to dance with you,” he said. “I can safely promise there will be music. Here or somewhere else, you and I will dance tonight.” There was nothing like drowning one’s troubles inside whine and the rhythm of music. Though he was not as avid a follower of Dionysus as some, that was the god he felt he’d celebrated the most lately. For the moment, he’d had quite enough of Aphrodite’s promises of love. His foray into it wasn’t working out like he’d hoped it would. Everything had gone sour and Athanasia was so far removed from anything to do with what was going on that he felt she’d be the perfect person to distract himself with. Nothing untoward, of course. He didn’t need Vangelis to kick him out of Colchis.
Taking a sip of his wine after listening to her answer, he moved the conversation on to something he’d overheard. “So it seems our Imeeya has secrets?” he glanced at Imeeya, speaking with his in-laws. Somewhere he was definitely not going. “She seemed so...wholesome.” He couldn’t imagine her having anything to do with pirates, but, then again, people were surprising. He wouldn’t have pegged his uncle as a Usurper and a murderer, but that was what he got for assuming.
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Like everyone else, Stephanos had turned and watched with something between pity and serpentine jealousy as Vangelis walked down the stairs in a sombre fashion. The crown suited Vangelis, as did the crimson and the black. He and Vangelis were not so very different in terms of form and height, but Vangelis barely smiled and always seemed to know what to do, even if he didn’t. Stephanos dropped his attention to his wine and uselessly swirled it around in his cup. He was in real danger of not being able to dredge his thoughts out of this downward spiral they were funneling into, when Princess Athanasia breezed up to him.
The distraction was more than welcome and he forced out a smile for her. She looked beautiful in a kind of style he’d never seen before but he didn’t get the chance to say this first. She greeted him without preamble “Hello, Your Majesty.”
“Good evening, your highness,” he returned, unsure how he felt about her addressing him in his still accurate, yet not accurate title. It was both gratifying and twisted like a knife in his chest at the same time, making it so that he felt a little out of breath for a few seconds. In the lull, she looked like she was also uncomfortable about something, though he couldn’t guess what, unless she was thinking of her father, which was likely. He thought of his deceased parent often. What came out of her mouth, though, had nothing to do with where he’d assumed her thoughts were.
”If there's music later, will you dance with me?" she asked in a rush.
He smiled genuinely this time. One of his more charming, bright ones that he hadn’t used on anyone in what felt like forever. For the past few days, life with his wife had been almost nothing but miserable. The new baby cried every few hours, which he did not begrudge, but it helped no one’s sleep. Olympia was on edge, all the decorations in their room had needed to be redone and he was embarrassed about that. That both of them had lost their tempers in such a catastrophic way.
“I want nothing more than to dance with you,” he said. “I can safely promise there will be music. Here or somewhere else, you and I will dance tonight.” There was nothing like drowning one’s troubles inside whine and the rhythm of music. Though he was not as avid a follower of Dionysus as some, that was the god he felt he’d celebrated the most lately. For the moment, he’d had quite enough of Aphrodite’s promises of love. His foray into it wasn’t working out like he’d hoped it would. Everything had gone sour and Athanasia was so far removed from anything to do with what was going on that he felt she’d be the perfect person to distract himself with. Nothing untoward, of course. He didn’t need Vangelis to kick him out of Colchis.
Taking a sip of his wine after listening to her answer, he moved the conversation on to something he’d overheard. “So it seems our Imeeya has secrets?” he glanced at Imeeya, speaking with his in-laws. Somewhere he was definitely not going. “She seemed so...wholesome.” He couldn’t imagine her having anything to do with pirates, but, then again, people were surprising. He wouldn’t have pegged his uncle as a Usurper and a murderer, but that was what he got for assuming.
Like everyone else, Stephanos had turned and watched with something between pity and serpentine jealousy as Vangelis walked down the stairs in a sombre fashion. The crown suited Vangelis, as did the crimson and the black. He and Vangelis were not so very different in terms of form and height, but Vangelis barely smiled and always seemed to know what to do, even if he didn’t. Stephanos dropped his attention to his wine and uselessly swirled it around in his cup. He was in real danger of not being able to dredge his thoughts out of this downward spiral they were funneling into, when Princess Athanasia breezed up to him.
The distraction was more than welcome and he forced out a smile for her. She looked beautiful in a kind of style he’d never seen before but he didn’t get the chance to say this first. She greeted him without preamble “Hello, Your Majesty.”
“Good evening, your highness,” he returned, unsure how he felt about her addressing him in his still accurate, yet not accurate title. It was both gratifying and twisted like a knife in his chest at the same time, making it so that he felt a little out of breath for a few seconds. In the lull, she looked like she was also uncomfortable about something, though he couldn’t guess what, unless she was thinking of her father, which was likely. He thought of his deceased parent often. What came out of her mouth, though, had nothing to do with where he’d assumed her thoughts were.
”If there's music later, will you dance with me?" she asked in a rush.
He smiled genuinely this time. One of his more charming, bright ones that he hadn’t used on anyone in what felt like forever. For the past few days, life with his wife had been almost nothing but miserable. The new baby cried every few hours, which he did not begrudge, but it helped no one’s sleep. Olympia was on edge, all the decorations in their room had needed to be redone and he was embarrassed about that. That both of them had lost their tempers in such a catastrophic way.
“I want nothing more than to dance with you,” he said. “I can safely promise there will be music. Here or somewhere else, you and I will dance tonight.” There was nothing like drowning one’s troubles inside whine and the rhythm of music. Though he was not as avid a follower of Dionysus as some, that was the god he felt he’d celebrated the most lately. For the moment, he’d had quite enough of Aphrodite’s promises of love. His foray into it wasn’t working out like he’d hoped it would. Everything had gone sour and Athanasia was so far removed from anything to do with what was going on that he felt she’d be the perfect person to distract himself with. Nothing untoward, of course. He didn’t need Vangelis to kick him out of Colchis.
Taking a sip of his wine after listening to her answer, he moved the conversation on to something he’d overheard. “So it seems our Imeeya has secrets?” he glanced at Imeeya, speaking with his in-laws. Somewhere he was definitely not going. “She seemed so...wholesome.” He couldn’t imagine her having anything to do with pirates, but, then again, people were surprising. He wouldn’t have pegged his uncle as a Usurper and a murderer, but that was what he got for assuming.
Selene was aware of her younger sister’s issues with her. The eldest was a tough act to follow, especially when she was so well received in any social circle she found herself in. She made a point to be gracious and humble when compliments were given to her, kind to those who showed her kindness and always making a point to be proper and respectful. She had a duty to present herself as a woman any man would be lucky enough to marry and to be the prize of the Leventi family. Nana has always seen herself as second to Selene, and while the snub was never intentional, it happened. She tried not to press Nana into more than she was willing to give.
Because she viewed Selene as incompetent and overindulged. If she was married, perhaps Nana would be the focus of her parents' attention.
Selene felt like the burden, wanting to marry but wanting the right marriage. The rest of her family couldn’t be the focus until she was wed.
Or at least engaged.
It was obvious that the tension weighed on her mother, but she didn’t do anything about it. Nana would just have to be patient and she would get her turn. There was nothing more she could do but that.
She accepted her mother and sisters acknowledgment with a smile and a nod. With Imeeya and Essa making their way over, Selene almost stepped in for conversation past introductions, but it felt better to allow Nana her moment. When asked about the journey, Selene gave Imeeya a look that said ‘don’t mind her, she’s not too aware of what happened.’ But still, she didn’t intervene. She didn’t want to deal with the glares of her sister all night.
It was then that her sister vanished, to be replaced by another quickly. Another look of apology to Imeeya, Selene was thinking of conversation to make when a boisterous voice filled the room. She hadn’t recognized it and was sure that the room was only going to have people she’d met months before. Giving Imeeya a nod as she vanished, Selene turned to find the source of the voice. Glancing in the direction, she noticed a large man surrounded by other military types, few of whom she knew the names. He was handsome and obviously well-liked. And yet, she couldn’t think of who he would be.
Although it was becoming apparent that Colchis seemed to breed very tall men.
His eyes met hers in passing, and she looked away blushing, making a point to notice anything else. The timing was fortuitous because, at that moment, the King was announced into the room.
Selene’s eyes were on him automatically, and she was certain that her heart would stop. She had seen him as a broken man, in the middle of intense healing after an injury. She had seen him as a visiting prince, intent on making his title known to those around him. The Blood General had made a brief appearance in the escape to Colchis. She felt her chest tighten, her grip on the fabric of her skirts.
She liked to think that most of the time, he was just Vangelis with her. The man on the deck who could forgive her mistakes. One would tease her gently due to her formal nature. Who would trust her on horseback, who seemed to indulge her letters and wanted to protect her from herself. But this was really the first time she saw him in his prime, owning the title he’d come into. And while it may have been everyone’s first time seeing it, she felt like it was her first time seeing him in this light at all.
Prince, King, General. They were all titles that he wore with pride.
Her eyes drank him in, from the rich jewels mined from the country itself to the dark chiton and fine lines of his features. Selene tried not to think about the day before, about the encounter they had. As he glanced around the room, he barely gave her a second look. Which was good, because she was certain that he had caught her staring.
Her eyes cast downward again, she was glad that the room seemed to be finding seats. ”Come, we should take to the table in the back.” They were already part of the gossip that had been circulating the room. She knew the eyes on her back weren’t just because she was a Leventi. ”I think we can trust that Nana will find her own seat. Hopefully not on that poor boy’s lap.” She said low to Pia, hoping that she would at least smile at the comment.
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Selene was aware of her younger sister’s issues with her. The eldest was a tough act to follow, especially when she was so well received in any social circle she found herself in. She made a point to be gracious and humble when compliments were given to her, kind to those who showed her kindness and always making a point to be proper and respectful. She had a duty to present herself as a woman any man would be lucky enough to marry and to be the prize of the Leventi family. Nana has always seen herself as second to Selene, and while the snub was never intentional, it happened. She tried not to press Nana into more than she was willing to give.
Because she viewed Selene as incompetent and overindulged. If she was married, perhaps Nana would be the focus of her parents' attention.
Selene felt like the burden, wanting to marry but wanting the right marriage. The rest of her family couldn’t be the focus until she was wed.
Or at least engaged.
It was obvious that the tension weighed on her mother, but she didn’t do anything about it. Nana would just have to be patient and she would get her turn. There was nothing more she could do but that.
She accepted her mother and sisters acknowledgment with a smile and a nod. With Imeeya and Essa making their way over, Selene almost stepped in for conversation past introductions, but it felt better to allow Nana her moment. When asked about the journey, Selene gave Imeeya a look that said ‘don’t mind her, she’s not too aware of what happened.’ But still, she didn’t intervene. She didn’t want to deal with the glares of her sister all night.
It was then that her sister vanished, to be replaced by another quickly. Another look of apology to Imeeya, Selene was thinking of conversation to make when a boisterous voice filled the room. She hadn’t recognized it and was sure that the room was only going to have people she’d met months before. Giving Imeeya a nod as she vanished, Selene turned to find the source of the voice. Glancing in the direction, she noticed a large man surrounded by other military types, few of whom she knew the names. He was handsome and obviously well-liked. And yet, she couldn’t think of who he would be.
Although it was becoming apparent that Colchis seemed to breed very tall men.
His eyes met hers in passing, and she looked away blushing, making a point to notice anything else. The timing was fortuitous because, at that moment, the King was announced into the room.
Selene’s eyes were on him automatically, and she was certain that her heart would stop. She had seen him as a broken man, in the middle of intense healing after an injury. She had seen him as a visiting prince, intent on making his title known to those around him. The Blood General had made a brief appearance in the escape to Colchis. She felt her chest tighten, her grip on the fabric of her skirts.
She liked to think that most of the time, he was just Vangelis with her. The man on the deck who could forgive her mistakes. One would tease her gently due to her formal nature. Who would trust her on horseback, who seemed to indulge her letters and wanted to protect her from herself. But this was really the first time she saw him in his prime, owning the title he’d come into. And while it may have been everyone’s first time seeing it, she felt like it was her first time seeing him in this light at all.
Prince, King, General. They were all titles that he wore with pride.
Her eyes drank him in, from the rich jewels mined from the country itself to the dark chiton and fine lines of his features. Selene tried not to think about the day before, about the encounter they had. As he glanced around the room, he barely gave her a second look. Which was good, because she was certain that he had caught her staring.
Her eyes cast downward again, she was glad that the room seemed to be finding seats. ”Come, we should take to the table in the back.” They were already part of the gossip that had been circulating the room. She knew the eyes on her back weren’t just because she was a Leventi. ”I think we can trust that Nana will find her own seat. Hopefully not on that poor boy’s lap.” She said low to Pia, hoping that she would at least smile at the comment.
Selene was aware of her younger sister’s issues with her. The eldest was a tough act to follow, especially when she was so well received in any social circle she found herself in. She made a point to be gracious and humble when compliments were given to her, kind to those who showed her kindness and always making a point to be proper and respectful. She had a duty to present herself as a woman any man would be lucky enough to marry and to be the prize of the Leventi family. Nana has always seen herself as second to Selene, and while the snub was never intentional, it happened. She tried not to press Nana into more than she was willing to give.
Because she viewed Selene as incompetent and overindulged. If she was married, perhaps Nana would be the focus of her parents' attention.
Selene felt like the burden, wanting to marry but wanting the right marriage. The rest of her family couldn’t be the focus until she was wed.
Or at least engaged.
It was obvious that the tension weighed on her mother, but she didn’t do anything about it. Nana would just have to be patient and she would get her turn. There was nothing more she could do but that.
She accepted her mother and sisters acknowledgment with a smile and a nod. With Imeeya and Essa making their way over, Selene almost stepped in for conversation past introductions, but it felt better to allow Nana her moment. When asked about the journey, Selene gave Imeeya a look that said ‘don’t mind her, she’s not too aware of what happened.’ But still, she didn’t intervene. She didn’t want to deal with the glares of her sister all night.
It was then that her sister vanished, to be replaced by another quickly. Another look of apology to Imeeya, Selene was thinking of conversation to make when a boisterous voice filled the room. She hadn’t recognized it and was sure that the room was only going to have people she’d met months before. Giving Imeeya a nod as she vanished, Selene turned to find the source of the voice. Glancing in the direction, she noticed a large man surrounded by other military types, few of whom she knew the names. He was handsome and obviously well-liked. And yet, she couldn’t think of who he would be.
Although it was becoming apparent that Colchis seemed to breed very tall men.
His eyes met hers in passing, and she looked away blushing, making a point to notice anything else. The timing was fortuitous because, at that moment, the King was announced into the room.
Selene’s eyes were on him automatically, and she was certain that her heart would stop. She had seen him as a broken man, in the middle of intense healing after an injury. She had seen him as a visiting prince, intent on making his title known to those around him. The Blood General had made a brief appearance in the escape to Colchis. She felt her chest tighten, her grip on the fabric of her skirts.
She liked to think that most of the time, he was just Vangelis with her. The man on the deck who could forgive her mistakes. One would tease her gently due to her formal nature. Who would trust her on horseback, who seemed to indulge her letters and wanted to protect her from herself. But this was really the first time she saw him in his prime, owning the title he’d come into. And while it may have been everyone’s first time seeing it, she felt like it was her first time seeing him in this light at all.
Prince, King, General. They were all titles that he wore with pride.
Her eyes drank him in, from the rich jewels mined from the country itself to the dark chiton and fine lines of his features. Selene tried not to think about the day before, about the encounter they had. As he glanced around the room, he barely gave her a second look. Which was good, because she was certain that he had caught her staring.
Her eyes cast downward again, she was glad that the room seemed to be finding seats. ”Come, we should take to the table in the back.” They were already part of the gossip that had been circulating the room. She knew the eyes on her back weren’t just because she was a Leventi. ”I think we can trust that Nana will find her own seat. Hopefully not on that poor boy’s lap.” She said low to Pia, hoping that she would at least smile at the comment.
The bracelets were pretty, his hair was lovely, and his face looked stunning, and no one was going to tell Mihail otherwise. Dionysios had barely been present for most of his life - rather, he had been there, but he had not been altogether there - and the younger man hardly thought his words valuable. He didn't care if his father thought he resembled 'a brothel wench' or otherwise: the fashion had not been selected to appease the ageing Thanasi. It had been chosen to celebrate his return to his adopted name, to mourn the cousin for which he never had entirely cared, and because it looked delightful.
The carriage ride was not an especially eventful one, if one could call his hushed squabbles with his older brother an event. They were far too common to keep in mind longer than a few moments, no matter how heated they grew. It was difficult to imagine a time when the two had not been fighting, for so long as he could recall, Mihail had not gotten along well with Dysius. Of course, it seemed reasonable that they would not: the two were vastly different, despite what first appearances might lead one to assume, and it had always seemed that the younger of the pair was easy to taunt, given his naturally feminine nature. Still, he had grown capable of holding his ground in the past few years, and arguments were rarely as one-sided as they had been in his youth.
When they had finally arrived, and the family had begun to disperse amongst the groups, Nethis was quick to appear at his side, whispering her schemes into Mihail's ear as though he had not previously been informed of them before they had left the Thanasi home. Find the Princess. It shouldn't be difficult.
His eyes drifted over the crowd present, sliding over all the Kotas royals - the new King included - as well as all the Taengean guests that had recently arrived. The room was filled with all the delightful gossip of fresh blood on Colchian soil and a new monarch on their throne, and the urge to immerse himself in all the rumours he had missed while hidden away in Nethisa was close to overwhelming, but there was a duty in family (now that he was accepting it, at least) and, even when still mildly irritated at their secrecy, Mihail always felt it necessary to honour that duty.
Athanasia of Kotas was speaking to one of their foreign visitors when he approached, Stephanos of Mikaelidas. Now, that was a man he could not deny a particular interest in, if whispers and his sisters' words were to be believed, but, for now, he maintained his attention primarily on the young princess, a smile crossing his face in greeting that seemed infinitely kinder than any which would typically grace his features, and tilting his head forwards towards the both of them.
"My Lady, my Lord. I do apologise for interrupting your conversation, I only wished to offer your Highness my condolences on your father's passing. He was a dear cousin to myself and my family, though that can hardly compare to the loss you must be feeling. If there were anything I could do for you in these hard times...do let me know."
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The bracelets were pretty, his hair was lovely, and his face looked stunning, and no one was going to tell Mihail otherwise. Dionysios had barely been present for most of his life - rather, he had been there, but he had not been altogether there - and the younger man hardly thought his words valuable. He didn't care if his father thought he resembled 'a brothel wench' or otherwise: the fashion had not been selected to appease the ageing Thanasi. It had been chosen to celebrate his return to his adopted name, to mourn the cousin for which he never had entirely cared, and because it looked delightful.
The carriage ride was not an especially eventful one, if one could call his hushed squabbles with his older brother an event. They were far too common to keep in mind longer than a few moments, no matter how heated they grew. It was difficult to imagine a time when the two had not been fighting, for so long as he could recall, Mihail had not gotten along well with Dysius. Of course, it seemed reasonable that they would not: the two were vastly different, despite what first appearances might lead one to assume, and it had always seemed that the younger of the pair was easy to taunt, given his naturally feminine nature. Still, he had grown capable of holding his ground in the past few years, and arguments were rarely as one-sided as they had been in his youth.
When they had finally arrived, and the family had begun to disperse amongst the groups, Nethis was quick to appear at his side, whispering her schemes into Mihail's ear as though he had not previously been informed of them before they had left the Thanasi home. Find the Princess. It shouldn't be difficult.
His eyes drifted over the crowd present, sliding over all the Kotas royals - the new King included - as well as all the Taengean guests that had recently arrived. The room was filled with all the delightful gossip of fresh blood on Colchian soil and a new monarch on their throne, and the urge to immerse himself in all the rumours he had missed while hidden away in Nethisa was close to overwhelming, but there was a duty in family (now that he was accepting it, at least) and, even when still mildly irritated at their secrecy, Mihail always felt it necessary to honour that duty.
Athanasia of Kotas was speaking to one of their foreign visitors when he approached, Stephanos of Mikaelidas. Now, that was a man he could not deny a particular interest in, if whispers and his sisters' words were to be believed, but, for now, he maintained his attention primarily on the young princess, a smile crossing his face in greeting that seemed infinitely kinder than any which would typically grace his features, and tilting his head forwards towards the both of them.
"My Lady, my Lord. I do apologise for interrupting your conversation, I only wished to offer your Highness my condolences on your father's passing. He was a dear cousin to myself and my family, though that can hardly compare to the loss you must be feeling. If there were anything I could do for you in these hard times...do let me know."
The bracelets were pretty, his hair was lovely, and his face looked stunning, and no one was going to tell Mihail otherwise. Dionysios had barely been present for most of his life - rather, he had been there, but he had not been altogether there - and the younger man hardly thought his words valuable. He didn't care if his father thought he resembled 'a brothel wench' or otherwise: the fashion had not been selected to appease the ageing Thanasi. It had been chosen to celebrate his return to his adopted name, to mourn the cousin for which he never had entirely cared, and because it looked delightful.
The carriage ride was not an especially eventful one, if one could call his hushed squabbles with his older brother an event. They were far too common to keep in mind longer than a few moments, no matter how heated they grew. It was difficult to imagine a time when the two had not been fighting, for so long as he could recall, Mihail had not gotten along well with Dysius. Of course, it seemed reasonable that they would not: the two were vastly different, despite what first appearances might lead one to assume, and it had always seemed that the younger of the pair was easy to taunt, given his naturally feminine nature. Still, he had grown capable of holding his ground in the past few years, and arguments were rarely as one-sided as they had been in his youth.
When they had finally arrived, and the family had begun to disperse amongst the groups, Nethis was quick to appear at his side, whispering her schemes into Mihail's ear as though he had not previously been informed of them before they had left the Thanasi home. Find the Princess. It shouldn't be difficult.
His eyes drifted over the crowd present, sliding over all the Kotas royals - the new King included - as well as all the Taengean guests that had recently arrived. The room was filled with all the delightful gossip of fresh blood on Colchian soil and a new monarch on their throne, and the urge to immerse himself in all the rumours he had missed while hidden away in Nethisa was close to overwhelming, but there was a duty in family (now that he was accepting it, at least) and, even when still mildly irritated at their secrecy, Mihail always felt it necessary to honour that duty.
Athanasia of Kotas was speaking to one of their foreign visitors when he approached, Stephanos of Mikaelidas. Now, that was a man he could not deny a particular interest in, if whispers and his sisters' words were to be believed, but, for now, he maintained his attention primarily on the young princess, a smile crossing his face in greeting that seemed infinitely kinder than any which would typically grace his features, and tilting his head forwards towards the both of them.
"My Lady, my Lord. I do apologise for interrupting your conversation, I only wished to offer your Highness my condolences on your father's passing. He was a dear cousin to myself and my family, though that can hardly compare to the loss you must be feeling. If there were anything I could do for you in these hard times...do let me know."
In her lifetime, Thea had attended countless court sessions and feasts per her royal Thanasi name, and yet, she found herself wishing to find herself anywhere but here. It was not due to one thing in particular, but due to a conglomeration of discomforts.
Beyond the uncomfortable nature of death which did not bother her quite so much, there were the persistent suspicious eyes that fell upon them as they had since she entered womanhood. Now, instead of whispering witchcraft, their eyes silently questioned whether regicide was beyond them. Finally, their father's state of mind was becoming a more apparent issue, with his voice that once commanded attention the inside of the Dikastirio now drawing unwanted attention with petty insults and demands. Age was cruel, just as the eyes were as they looked upon the scene.
If it had not been for years of trained composure, Thea would have shrunk and flushed with embarrassment at such a scene being from a member of her own household. At home, yes, she was used to such things and could navigate it with her own means, but here? No. With Nethis having returned, she took her natural place as the true head of the household, allowing even managing to set forth orders for Evras to assist their father to sit.
Walking alongside Evras they both guided - or were guided by - their father to the table, Thea's eyes noted that of the Queen Dowager trained upon the small scene, and she felt a heavy sigh of controlled dread release through her chest. There was to be a time for the issuing of condolences publicly, and yet Thea had wished that attention had not been doubly brought onto their family by the suspicion of recent events and the behavior of their headstrong father.
As the elegant royal strode towards them, Thea took a brief glance around the room at the pockets of communication - of particular interest were the military personnel and the odd collection of nobles.
There were whispers that caught her ear, of Lady Imeeya of Drakos and....a pirate lover at the docks? While Thea stood near her father and sister as they settled, she had not yet taken her own seat as she glanced over her shoulder to hear the conversation before allowing her eyes to slide across the room to the young noblewoman's face. It was easy to see how such a rumor spread...but Thea was there and knew it to be false.
Thea felt sympathy for the young woman, knowing how the fire of gossip spread through the halls, but as the Queen Dowager approached and Evras made her departure, she found herself pulled back to the present moment once again only for the usher to announce the entrance of their new King.
King Vangelis of Kotas.
Simply hearing the word seemed to bring an oddly metallic taste to her tongue and she found herself swallowing as her eyes soaked in the sight of him. In some ways, it was no different than he appeared at major festivals and events, many of which both attended as bearing the names of Royal Houses. Yet, he bore this differently, somehow.
In the time that Queen Yanni had approached and greeted Nethis and Dionysios, Thea had found herself momentarily distracted by the realization that Vangelis was crossing their direction. Illogically, she felt a fluttering of warmth in her chest as her body seemed to physically recall every mark it bore now as it pressed against the fabric she wore. Her usual stare watched him unblinking as he approached, falling to his neck where a dark spot had blossomed - one she had caused.
Thea blinked a moment as her eyes flitted to Nethis briefly before dipping into a low curtsey, appropriate for the two royals who stood before them.
Not a word was spoken, and yet their eyes met, much as they had done at different occasions that followed his return from wherever he had been in the Kingdoms. Hers lingered a moment longer than usual before the slight flash of gold over his shoulder caught her attention. It was Lady Selene of Leventi, deep in discussion with her sister and mother. Her gaze lingered there a moment before meeting Vangelis one more time then looking away again.
In that moment he turned away, and she found her eyes seeking him out once again, noting how very carefully his formal chiton covered his back. Once he was seated, Thea took her seat as well, almost pointedly not looking at any other members of her household....particularly as she could feel her sister's gaze on the side of her face.
"Those rumors regarding Lady Imeeya are not true," Thea said, to start some hint of conversation, "I saw the instance at the docks that day. It seemed she was none too entertained by the man's presence. Then again, whether he was highborn or lowborn, I do not imagine she bears much interest in men in general."
It was a frank, simple conversation starter, with just enough tart to it to keep true to her Thanasi name. It would be enough for Dysius and Nethis to hear, though, she doubted her father carried any interest in the matter at all. After a moment of silence to let her input marinate, she finally lifted her gaze to look at Nethis, as if expecting a response.
After all, that's what these events were for, right?
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In her lifetime, Thea had attended countless court sessions and feasts per her royal Thanasi name, and yet, she found herself wishing to find herself anywhere but here. It was not due to one thing in particular, but due to a conglomeration of discomforts.
Beyond the uncomfortable nature of death which did not bother her quite so much, there were the persistent suspicious eyes that fell upon them as they had since she entered womanhood. Now, instead of whispering witchcraft, their eyes silently questioned whether regicide was beyond them. Finally, their father's state of mind was becoming a more apparent issue, with his voice that once commanded attention the inside of the Dikastirio now drawing unwanted attention with petty insults and demands. Age was cruel, just as the eyes were as they looked upon the scene.
If it had not been for years of trained composure, Thea would have shrunk and flushed with embarrassment at such a scene being from a member of her own household. At home, yes, she was used to such things and could navigate it with her own means, but here? No. With Nethis having returned, she took her natural place as the true head of the household, allowing even managing to set forth orders for Evras to assist their father to sit.
Walking alongside Evras they both guided - or were guided by - their father to the table, Thea's eyes noted that of the Queen Dowager trained upon the small scene, and she felt a heavy sigh of controlled dread release through her chest. There was to be a time for the issuing of condolences publicly, and yet Thea had wished that attention had not been doubly brought onto their family by the suspicion of recent events and the behavior of their headstrong father.
As the elegant royal strode towards them, Thea took a brief glance around the room at the pockets of communication - of particular interest were the military personnel and the odd collection of nobles.
There were whispers that caught her ear, of Lady Imeeya of Drakos and....a pirate lover at the docks? While Thea stood near her father and sister as they settled, she had not yet taken her own seat as she glanced over her shoulder to hear the conversation before allowing her eyes to slide across the room to the young noblewoman's face. It was easy to see how such a rumor spread...but Thea was there and knew it to be false.
Thea felt sympathy for the young woman, knowing how the fire of gossip spread through the halls, but as the Queen Dowager approached and Evras made her departure, she found herself pulled back to the present moment once again only for the usher to announce the entrance of their new King.
King Vangelis of Kotas.
Simply hearing the word seemed to bring an oddly metallic taste to her tongue and she found herself swallowing as her eyes soaked in the sight of him. In some ways, it was no different than he appeared at major festivals and events, many of which both attended as bearing the names of Royal Houses. Yet, he bore this differently, somehow.
In the time that Queen Yanni had approached and greeted Nethis and Dionysios, Thea had found herself momentarily distracted by the realization that Vangelis was crossing their direction. Illogically, she felt a fluttering of warmth in her chest as her body seemed to physically recall every mark it bore now as it pressed against the fabric she wore. Her usual stare watched him unblinking as he approached, falling to his neck where a dark spot had blossomed - one she had caused.
Thea blinked a moment as her eyes flitted to Nethis briefly before dipping into a low curtsey, appropriate for the two royals who stood before them.
Not a word was spoken, and yet their eyes met, much as they had done at different occasions that followed his return from wherever he had been in the Kingdoms. Hers lingered a moment longer than usual before the slight flash of gold over his shoulder caught her attention. It was Lady Selene of Leventi, deep in discussion with her sister and mother. Her gaze lingered there a moment before meeting Vangelis one more time then looking away again.
In that moment he turned away, and she found her eyes seeking him out once again, noting how very carefully his formal chiton covered his back. Once he was seated, Thea took her seat as well, almost pointedly not looking at any other members of her household....particularly as she could feel her sister's gaze on the side of her face.
"Those rumors regarding Lady Imeeya are not true," Thea said, to start some hint of conversation, "I saw the instance at the docks that day. It seemed she was none too entertained by the man's presence. Then again, whether he was highborn or lowborn, I do not imagine she bears much interest in men in general."
It was a frank, simple conversation starter, with just enough tart to it to keep true to her Thanasi name. It would be enough for Dysius and Nethis to hear, though, she doubted her father carried any interest in the matter at all. After a moment of silence to let her input marinate, she finally lifted her gaze to look at Nethis, as if expecting a response.
After all, that's what these events were for, right?
In her lifetime, Thea had attended countless court sessions and feasts per her royal Thanasi name, and yet, she found herself wishing to find herself anywhere but here. It was not due to one thing in particular, but due to a conglomeration of discomforts.
Beyond the uncomfortable nature of death which did not bother her quite so much, there were the persistent suspicious eyes that fell upon them as they had since she entered womanhood. Now, instead of whispering witchcraft, their eyes silently questioned whether regicide was beyond them. Finally, their father's state of mind was becoming a more apparent issue, with his voice that once commanded attention the inside of the Dikastirio now drawing unwanted attention with petty insults and demands. Age was cruel, just as the eyes were as they looked upon the scene.
If it had not been for years of trained composure, Thea would have shrunk and flushed with embarrassment at such a scene being from a member of her own household. At home, yes, she was used to such things and could navigate it with her own means, but here? No. With Nethis having returned, she took her natural place as the true head of the household, allowing even managing to set forth orders for Evras to assist their father to sit.
Walking alongside Evras they both guided - or were guided by - their father to the table, Thea's eyes noted that of the Queen Dowager trained upon the small scene, and she felt a heavy sigh of controlled dread release through her chest. There was to be a time for the issuing of condolences publicly, and yet Thea had wished that attention had not been doubly brought onto their family by the suspicion of recent events and the behavior of their headstrong father.
As the elegant royal strode towards them, Thea took a brief glance around the room at the pockets of communication - of particular interest were the military personnel and the odd collection of nobles.
There were whispers that caught her ear, of Lady Imeeya of Drakos and....a pirate lover at the docks? While Thea stood near her father and sister as they settled, she had not yet taken her own seat as she glanced over her shoulder to hear the conversation before allowing her eyes to slide across the room to the young noblewoman's face. It was easy to see how such a rumor spread...but Thea was there and knew it to be false.
Thea felt sympathy for the young woman, knowing how the fire of gossip spread through the halls, but as the Queen Dowager approached and Evras made her departure, she found herself pulled back to the present moment once again only for the usher to announce the entrance of their new King.
King Vangelis of Kotas.
Simply hearing the word seemed to bring an oddly metallic taste to her tongue and she found herself swallowing as her eyes soaked in the sight of him. In some ways, it was no different than he appeared at major festivals and events, many of which both attended as bearing the names of Royal Houses. Yet, he bore this differently, somehow.
In the time that Queen Yanni had approached and greeted Nethis and Dionysios, Thea had found herself momentarily distracted by the realization that Vangelis was crossing their direction. Illogically, she felt a fluttering of warmth in her chest as her body seemed to physically recall every mark it bore now as it pressed against the fabric she wore. Her usual stare watched him unblinking as he approached, falling to his neck where a dark spot had blossomed - one she had caused.
Thea blinked a moment as her eyes flitted to Nethis briefly before dipping into a low curtsey, appropriate for the two royals who stood before them.
Not a word was spoken, and yet their eyes met, much as they had done at different occasions that followed his return from wherever he had been in the Kingdoms. Hers lingered a moment longer than usual before the slight flash of gold over his shoulder caught her attention. It was Lady Selene of Leventi, deep in discussion with her sister and mother. Her gaze lingered there a moment before meeting Vangelis one more time then looking away again.
In that moment he turned away, and she found her eyes seeking him out once again, noting how very carefully his formal chiton covered his back. Once he was seated, Thea took her seat as well, almost pointedly not looking at any other members of her household....particularly as she could feel her sister's gaze on the side of her face.
"Those rumors regarding Lady Imeeya are not true," Thea said, to start some hint of conversation, "I saw the instance at the docks that day. It seemed she was none too entertained by the man's presence. Then again, whether he was highborn or lowborn, I do not imagine she bears much interest in men in general."
It was a frank, simple conversation starter, with just enough tart to it to keep true to her Thanasi name. It would be enough for Dysius and Nethis to hear, though, she doubted her father carried any interest in the matter at all. After a moment of silence to let her input marinate, she finally lifted her gaze to look at Nethis, as if expecting a response.
After all, that's what these events were for, right?
He felt as if he had been living in a shadow world since his father's death. Everything was different, and as he had put on the circlet once worn by Vangelis as the crown prince, he felt a wave of nausea at the idea. If he had made a better choice in marriage, this would have been far easier than it was. Without a son that had Nethis as an aunt, he could have celebrated this rise in rank with ease instead of fear. A food taster had sampled everything he ate and drank since his father had been found, and he had kept a guard closer to him at every turn.
Waiting on his brother as the new king prepared, that guard remained by his side even as he noted the mark on the monarch's neck. In another space and time he would have made a joke, poked fun at his elder brother for finally breaking down a bit and feeling, but now he only hoped that the object of his brother's affection would be with child soon. The more bodies between his son and the crown, the safer he would feel. Perhaps the marriage he hoped for between Vangelis and Selene would be quickened by this new rise in status. The silent ride to the event allowed him to look the older man over and see if he could spot any difference that might indicate whether or not he had already asked the Taengean woman to be his bride, but was left with no obvious clue.
The arrival of the two highest ranking men in Colchis was a signal to those within, and as he stepped through in his brother's shadow, his black chiton and maroon himation complimenting but not coming close to his brother's own finery. He had brass trimmings and solid sandals, his hair and beard finally trimmed into a proper shape, befitting a crown prince, and giving him the look of a man who was solemn and strong aside from the shadows that still lingered beneath his eyes. Zanon caught sight of Ariah in the corner, one of those serving for the night, and he frowned. It hadn't been his choice to have the woman out in front of everyone, preferring instead to keep her for himself. His pain had subsided since she had begun tending to him, and he no longer needed to rely on the cane he used on his worse days, she was the finest gift he'd ever received, but that was something he could not dwell on here in the presence of so many.
Zanon took his place by his wife's side, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek and placing a hand on his son's shoulder before sitting at her side, waiting for his brother to speak and welcome everyone to the feast.
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He felt as if he had been living in a shadow world since his father's death. Everything was different, and as he had put on the circlet once worn by Vangelis as the crown prince, he felt a wave of nausea at the idea. If he had made a better choice in marriage, this would have been far easier than it was. Without a son that had Nethis as an aunt, he could have celebrated this rise in rank with ease instead of fear. A food taster had sampled everything he ate and drank since his father had been found, and he had kept a guard closer to him at every turn.
Waiting on his brother as the new king prepared, that guard remained by his side even as he noted the mark on the monarch's neck. In another space and time he would have made a joke, poked fun at his elder brother for finally breaking down a bit and feeling, but now he only hoped that the object of his brother's affection would be with child soon. The more bodies between his son and the crown, the safer he would feel. Perhaps the marriage he hoped for between Vangelis and Selene would be quickened by this new rise in status. The silent ride to the event allowed him to look the older man over and see if he could spot any difference that might indicate whether or not he had already asked the Taengean woman to be his bride, but was left with no obvious clue.
The arrival of the two highest ranking men in Colchis was a signal to those within, and as he stepped through in his brother's shadow, his black chiton and maroon himation complimenting but not coming close to his brother's own finery. He had brass trimmings and solid sandals, his hair and beard finally trimmed into a proper shape, befitting a crown prince, and giving him the look of a man who was solemn and strong aside from the shadows that still lingered beneath his eyes. Zanon caught sight of Ariah in the corner, one of those serving for the night, and he frowned. It hadn't been his choice to have the woman out in front of everyone, preferring instead to keep her for himself. His pain had subsided since she had begun tending to him, and he no longer needed to rely on the cane he used on his worse days, she was the finest gift he'd ever received, but that was something he could not dwell on here in the presence of so many.
Zanon took his place by his wife's side, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek and placing a hand on his son's shoulder before sitting at her side, waiting for his brother to speak and welcome everyone to the feast.
He felt as if he had been living in a shadow world since his father's death. Everything was different, and as he had put on the circlet once worn by Vangelis as the crown prince, he felt a wave of nausea at the idea. If he had made a better choice in marriage, this would have been far easier than it was. Without a son that had Nethis as an aunt, he could have celebrated this rise in rank with ease instead of fear. A food taster had sampled everything he ate and drank since his father had been found, and he had kept a guard closer to him at every turn.
Waiting on his brother as the new king prepared, that guard remained by his side even as he noted the mark on the monarch's neck. In another space and time he would have made a joke, poked fun at his elder brother for finally breaking down a bit and feeling, but now he only hoped that the object of his brother's affection would be with child soon. The more bodies between his son and the crown, the safer he would feel. Perhaps the marriage he hoped for between Vangelis and Selene would be quickened by this new rise in status. The silent ride to the event allowed him to look the older man over and see if he could spot any difference that might indicate whether or not he had already asked the Taengean woman to be his bride, but was left with no obvious clue.
The arrival of the two highest ranking men in Colchis was a signal to those within, and as he stepped through in his brother's shadow, his black chiton and maroon himation complimenting but not coming close to his brother's own finery. He had brass trimmings and solid sandals, his hair and beard finally trimmed into a proper shape, befitting a crown prince, and giving him the look of a man who was solemn and strong aside from the shadows that still lingered beneath his eyes. Zanon caught sight of Ariah in the corner, one of those serving for the night, and he frowned. It hadn't been his choice to have the woman out in front of everyone, preferring instead to keep her for himself. His pain had subsided since she had begun tending to him, and he no longer needed to rely on the cane he used on his worse days, she was the finest gift he'd ever received, but that was something he could not dwell on here in the presence of so many.
Zanon took his place by his wife's side, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek and placing a hand on his son's shoulder before sitting at her side, waiting for his brother to speak and welcome everyone to the feast.
As Timaeus accepted the two goblets from the servant he couldn’t help, but feel a small bubble of doubt bubble up within him. After all, what was he thinking? Introducing himself to a Leventi? It was almost ludicrous for him to be doing such a thing. Especially when he knew that girls like her would take no interest in crownless nobles like himself!
However, his fears were instantly set aside the moment he turned around and saw her; away from her family and looking for him.
This alone was enough to shock his system and leave him rooted to the spot, staring wide-eyed at the girl as his brain tried to comprehend the fact that she was just a few feet away from him. Truthfully, his mind had thought that she would laugh off his invitation to speak more privately, turning to her sisters to make fun of this lowly baron seeking the company of a Leventi girl. Yet, she did not do that. This was very clearly the opposite of that scenario, but there was no way in Hades that he was going to complain.
A part of him was content with this distance between them, allowing him to let his eyes linger on the work of art that was Nana of Leventi. Timaeus drunk in her image; from the way she was fiddling with her skirts, trying to make them perfect again after her rushed dash across the room, to the way she grinned ever so slightly and as sly as a fox as she silently invited him to continue the chase. Without a single word, he watched as she moved to the edge of the hall before ducking behind a column. It was clear from the way that she kept glancing back at him that she wanted him to follow.
Not being stupid enough to let his nerves be enough to let this slip out of his fingers, Timaeus snapped out of his shocked daze and quickly crossed the distance to where she stood. Timaeus didn’t know how he had managed to do it truthfully when his legs had felt so useless just a moment before, but if he had to pin it on something; it would be the light giddy feeling he had within him that brought a slight smile and a bright red blush to the surface. (After all, thoughts were not required when faced with someone as beautiful as she was.) He was not able to keep his gaze upon her as she had for him, choosing instead to duck his head when he reached her.
For just a moment, there was silence between them as both were drowning in the implications of what they were doing. This was so unlike Timaeus. He knew full well that even though he was unmarried and a Baron to boot, he had no business chasing after the ladies of the court like his brother. The Valaoritis tradition was that his eyes should only wander over the women of his province and find a match among them. It was pointless to woo any other and was destined to end in heartbreak as duty triumphed overall. This would only lead to trouble. He had already heard the rumors swirling Lady Imeeya, it would take only one chatty courtier to take this introduction and spin it into something that would reflect badly on the both of them. Surely, she was thinking the same things, but for her, it had to be worse. She had greater consequences.
Yet, neither seemed to care. They didn’t make any excuses and slipped away from the other’s company to return to the sides of others.
Instead, she asked him for a drink.
“ Yes, I didn’t know if --” Timaeus uselessly stammered out of sheer nerves as he offered her one of the goblets for her to take. He found it hard to breathe with such a beautiful and sought after lady so close to him. It seemed so unreal, even when their fingers brushed ever so slightly as she took the glass from him. That brief contact was enough to send jolts through Timaeus, reminding him that this was not a wonderful dream. He now needed to turn on the charm if he wished to spend the rest of the evening in the company of this Taengean gem. As she took hers, he raised his goblet to his lips so that he might be able to steel his nerves for the next few moments.
“ I do not believe we’ve met before, have we?” Timaeus said with a slightly arched brow as he fell back onto conversation topics that he knew was safe to venture into with such an exquisite stranger like her. A mundane conversation like this may seem like a bore at first, but Timaeus didn’t know what else to do. His brain was already fuzzy from his racing heart and the alcohol that he couldn’t think of anything else. Hopefully, as the evening went on, the conversation would grow more interesting than simple introductions. “ If that is the case, I’m Timaeus.”
He paused for a moment, completely forgetting that he had not included his family name. The Baron would later thank his lucky stars that he had such a thing as he was completely oblivious to the fact that this girl before him was only giving him the time of day because she believed him to be the absent Kotas brother, Yiannis. Their given names sounded similar enough that the illusion could continue, but if she knew that he was Valaoritis, the game would be over in an instant.
But he was aware of none of this as he continued speaking, “ Forgive me my Lady,” He started to say, not making the fatal mistake of treating her any less of the princess that she thought herself to be, “ But may I ask for the honor of knowing yours? You and your sisters are so lovely that it is difficult to tell who is who.” He felt that this was a safe question to ask, but was completely unaware of the tensions between Nana and the elder sister that he did indeed know. Hopefully, though, the grin plastered on his face and the excited gleam in his eyes, clearly showing that he was interested in her and only her, not the others, would be enough to spare him from her wrath.
Being a bit daring though, Timaeus reached for her hand then and without a word lifted it to his lips as a belated greeting and show of respect. It was a rather forward thing for him to do, but their conversation was so charged (he could practically feel the energy between them in the air) that he did not think she would mind. He had a certain inclination that she would be rather charmed by it.
He was only when he broke away that did he realize the heavy silence that had fallen across the room. Glancing back at the crowd to see why the endless buzz of chatter had suddenly drawn to a halt, Timaeus was surprised to see that none other than Vangelis had arrived, signaling that it was time for the feast to begin. Turning back to the girl, he knew that he was loathed to part from her so soon, especially as he was eager to know more about her than just her name; he made a bold move that completely disregarded any previous plans of his to sit near his brother, cousin, or close friend. It was something that under any other circumstances, he would never dare to do, but this evening was quickly shaping up to be a night of risks he was more than willing to take.
“ Would you be so kind as to sit with me this evening?”
It was a simple enough question and not one outside of the realm of possibility aa the guests were free to sit wherever they liked… but that didn’t make it any less daring. Pulling them both away from their families and in such a public way was quite a risk for them, subjecting a pair that barely knew each other to the gauntlet of courtly gossip, but Timaeus didn’t care for it. He knew at that moment that there was no way that he could simply return to his brother’s side to mind him when he was so enthralled by this foreign beauty. Her allure was too strong and the promise of spending an evening with a treasure like her was far too enthralling to consider anything else.
Luckily, she seemingly felt the same way and quickly affirmed that she too would like to accompany him for the feast.
So, with a wide grin on his face that was almost childish, Timaeus offered her his arm to take like the gentleman he was. Once she accepted, he quickly led the pair across the room to the large tables and found them a place at the table where they could sit across from one another. (He was lucky to find one too as they were one of the last to sit down, drawing far more eyes than he would have liked to them.) However, no one seemed to pay them no mind as all eyes were on their new king and the rest of the royal family as they also moved to take their places, leaving one spot noticeably absent at the head table.
Timaeus barely took notice of this though as his eyes kept drifting to the girl across from him; fully assured that this would be nothing more than a pleasant night for both him and the Leventi girl he was blessed to be in the company of that evening.
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As Timaeus accepted the two goblets from the servant he couldn’t help, but feel a small bubble of doubt bubble up within him. After all, what was he thinking? Introducing himself to a Leventi? It was almost ludicrous for him to be doing such a thing. Especially when he knew that girls like her would take no interest in crownless nobles like himself!
However, his fears were instantly set aside the moment he turned around and saw her; away from her family and looking for him.
This alone was enough to shock his system and leave him rooted to the spot, staring wide-eyed at the girl as his brain tried to comprehend the fact that she was just a few feet away from him. Truthfully, his mind had thought that she would laugh off his invitation to speak more privately, turning to her sisters to make fun of this lowly baron seeking the company of a Leventi girl. Yet, she did not do that. This was very clearly the opposite of that scenario, but there was no way in Hades that he was going to complain.
A part of him was content with this distance between them, allowing him to let his eyes linger on the work of art that was Nana of Leventi. Timaeus drunk in her image; from the way she was fiddling with her skirts, trying to make them perfect again after her rushed dash across the room, to the way she grinned ever so slightly and as sly as a fox as she silently invited him to continue the chase. Without a single word, he watched as she moved to the edge of the hall before ducking behind a column. It was clear from the way that she kept glancing back at him that she wanted him to follow.
Not being stupid enough to let his nerves be enough to let this slip out of his fingers, Timaeus snapped out of his shocked daze and quickly crossed the distance to where she stood. Timaeus didn’t know how he had managed to do it truthfully when his legs had felt so useless just a moment before, but if he had to pin it on something; it would be the light giddy feeling he had within him that brought a slight smile and a bright red blush to the surface. (After all, thoughts were not required when faced with someone as beautiful as she was.) He was not able to keep his gaze upon her as she had for him, choosing instead to duck his head when he reached her.
For just a moment, there was silence between them as both were drowning in the implications of what they were doing. This was so unlike Timaeus. He knew full well that even though he was unmarried and a Baron to boot, he had no business chasing after the ladies of the court like his brother. The Valaoritis tradition was that his eyes should only wander over the women of his province and find a match among them. It was pointless to woo any other and was destined to end in heartbreak as duty triumphed overall. This would only lead to trouble. He had already heard the rumors swirling Lady Imeeya, it would take only one chatty courtier to take this introduction and spin it into something that would reflect badly on the both of them. Surely, she was thinking the same things, but for her, it had to be worse. She had greater consequences.
Yet, neither seemed to care. They didn’t make any excuses and slipped away from the other’s company to return to the sides of others.
Instead, she asked him for a drink.
“ Yes, I didn’t know if --” Timaeus uselessly stammered out of sheer nerves as he offered her one of the goblets for her to take. He found it hard to breathe with such a beautiful and sought after lady so close to him. It seemed so unreal, even when their fingers brushed ever so slightly as she took the glass from him. That brief contact was enough to send jolts through Timaeus, reminding him that this was not a wonderful dream. He now needed to turn on the charm if he wished to spend the rest of the evening in the company of this Taengean gem. As she took hers, he raised his goblet to his lips so that he might be able to steel his nerves for the next few moments.
“ I do not believe we’ve met before, have we?” Timaeus said with a slightly arched brow as he fell back onto conversation topics that he knew was safe to venture into with such an exquisite stranger like her. A mundane conversation like this may seem like a bore at first, but Timaeus didn’t know what else to do. His brain was already fuzzy from his racing heart and the alcohol that he couldn’t think of anything else. Hopefully, as the evening went on, the conversation would grow more interesting than simple introductions. “ If that is the case, I’m Timaeus.”
He paused for a moment, completely forgetting that he had not included his family name. The Baron would later thank his lucky stars that he had such a thing as he was completely oblivious to the fact that this girl before him was only giving him the time of day because she believed him to be the absent Kotas brother, Yiannis. Their given names sounded similar enough that the illusion could continue, but if she knew that he was Valaoritis, the game would be over in an instant.
But he was aware of none of this as he continued speaking, “ Forgive me my Lady,” He started to say, not making the fatal mistake of treating her any less of the princess that she thought herself to be, “ But may I ask for the honor of knowing yours? You and your sisters are so lovely that it is difficult to tell who is who.” He felt that this was a safe question to ask, but was completely unaware of the tensions between Nana and the elder sister that he did indeed know. Hopefully, though, the grin plastered on his face and the excited gleam in his eyes, clearly showing that he was interested in her and only her, not the others, would be enough to spare him from her wrath.
Being a bit daring though, Timaeus reached for her hand then and without a word lifted it to his lips as a belated greeting and show of respect. It was a rather forward thing for him to do, but their conversation was so charged (he could practically feel the energy between them in the air) that he did not think she would mind. He had a certain inclination that she would be rather charmed by it.
He was only when he broke away that did he realize the heavy silence that had fallen across the room. Glancing back at the crowd to see why the endless buzz of chatter had suddenly drawn to a halt, Timaeus was surprised to see that none other than Vangelis had arrived, signaling that it was time for the feast to begin. Turning back to the girl, he knew that he was loathed to part from her so soon, especially as he was eager to know more about her than just her name; he made a bold move that completely disregarded any previous plans of his to sit near his brother, cousin, or close friend. It was something that under any other circumstances, he would never dare to do, but this evening was quickly shaping up to be a night of risks he was more than willing to take.
“ Would you be so kind as to sit with me this evening?”
It was a simple enough question and not one outside of the realm of possibility aa the guests were free to sit wherever they liked… but that didn’t make it any less daring. Pulling them both away from their families and in such a public way was quite a risk for them, subjecting a pair that barely knew each other to the gauntlet of courtly gossip, but Timaeus didn’t care for it. He knew at that moment that there was no way that he could simply return to his brother’s side to mind him when he was so enthralled by this foreign beauty. Her allure was too strong and the promise of spending an evening with a treasure like her was far too enthralling to consider anything else.
Luckily, she seemingly felt the same way and quickly affirmed that she too would like to accompany him for the feast.
So, with a wide grin on his face that was almost childish, Timaeus offered her his arm to take like the gentleman he was. Once she accepted, he quickly led the pair across the room to the large tables and found them a place at the table where they could sit across from one another. (He was lucky to find one too as they were one of the last to sit down, drawing far more eyes than he would have liked to them.) However, no one seemed to pay them no mind as all eyes were on their new king and the rest of the royal family as they also moved to take their places, leaving one spot noticeably absent at the head table.
Timaeus barely took notice of this though as his eyes kept drifting to the girl across from him; fully assured that this would be nothing more than a pleasant night for both him and the Leventi girl he was blessed to be in the company of that evening.
As Timaeus accepted the two goblets from the servant he couldn’t help, but feel a small bubble of doubt bubble up within him. After all, what was he thinking? Introducing himself to a Leventi? It was almost ludicrous for him to be doing such a thing. Especially when he knew that girls like her would take no interest in crownless nobles like himself!
However, his fears were instantly set aside the moment he turned around and saw her; away from her family and looking for him.
This alone was enough to shock his system and leave him rooted to the spot, staring wide-eyed at the girl as his brain tried to comprehend the fact that she was just a few feet away from him. Truthfully, his mind had thought that she would laugh off his invitation to speak more privately, turning to her sisters to make fun of this lowly baron seeking the company of a Leventi girl. Yet, she did not do that. This was very clearly the opposite of that scenario, but there was no way in Hades that he was going to complain.
A part of him was content with this distance between them, allowing him to let his eyes linger on the work of art that was Nana of Leventi. Timaeus drunk in her image; from the way she was fiddling with her skirts, trying to make them perfect again after her rushed dash across the room, to the way she grinned ever so slightly and as sly as a fox as she silently invited him to continue the chase. Without a single word, he watched as she moved to the edge of the hall before ducking behind a column. It was clear from the way that she kept glancing back at him that she wanted him to follow.
Not being stupid enough to let his nerves be enough to let this slip out of his fingers, Timaeus snapped out of his shocked daze and quickly crossed the distance to where she stood. Timaeus didn’t know how he had managed to do it truthfully when his legs had felt so useless just a moment before, but if he had to pin it on something; it would be the light giddy feeling he had within him that brought a slight smile and a bright red blush to the surface. (After all, thoughts were not required when faced with someone as beautiful as she was.) He was not able to keep his gaze upon her as she had for him, choosing instead to duck his head when he reached her.
For just a moment, there was silence between them as both were drowning in the implications of what they were doing. This was so unlike Timaeus. He knew full well that even though he was unmarried and a Baron to boot, he had no business chasing after the ladies of the court like his brother. The Valaoritis tradition was that his eyes should only wander over the women of his province and find a match among them. It was pointless to woo any other and was destined to end in heartbreak as duty triumphed overall. This would only lead to trouble. He had already heard the rumors swirling Lady Imeeya, it would take only one chatty courtier to take this introduction and spin it into something that would reflect badly on the both of them. Surely, she was thinking the same things, but for her, it had to be worse. She had greater consequences.
Yet, neither seemed to care. They didn’t make any excuses and slipped away from the other’s company to return to the sides of others.
Instead, she asked him for a drink.
“ Yes, I didn’t know if --” Timaeus uselessly stammered out of sheer nerves as he offered her one of the goblets for her to take. He found it hard to breathe with such a beautiful and sought after lady so close to him. It seemed so unreal, even when their fingers brushed ever so slightly as she took the glass from him. That brief contact was enough to send jolts through Timaeus, reminding him that this was not a wonderful dream. He now needed to turn on the charm if he wished to spend the rest of the evening in the company of this Taengean gem. As she took hers, he raised his goblet to his lips so that he might be able to steel his nerves for the next few moments.
“ I do not believe we’ve met before, have we?” Timaeus said with a slightly arched brow as he fell back onto conversation topics that he knew was safe to venture into with such an exquisite stranger like her. A mundane conversation like this may seem like a bore at first, but Timaeus didn’t know what else to do. His brain was already fuzzy from his racing heart and the alcohol that he couldn’t think of anything else. Hopefully, as the evening went on, the conversation would grow more interesting than simple introductions. “ If that is the case, I’m Timaeus.”
He paused for a moment, completely forgetting that he had not included his family name. The Baron would later thank his lucky stars that he had such a thing as he was completely oblivious to the fact that this girl before him was only giving him the time of day because she believed him to be the absent Kotas brother, Yiannis. Their given names sounded similar enough that the illusion could continue, but if she knew that he was Valaoritis, the game would be over in an instant.
But he was aware of none of this as he continued speaking, “ Forgive me my Lady,” He started to say, not making the fatal mistake of treating her any less of the princess that she thought herself to be, “ But may I ask for the honor of knowing yours? You and your sisters are so lovely that it is difficult to tell who is who.” He felt that this was a safe question to ask, but was completely unaware of the tensions between Nana and the elder sister that he did indeed know. Hopefully, though, the grin plastered on his face and the excited gleam in his eyes, clearly showing that he was interested in her and only her, not the others, would be enough to spare him from her wrath.
Being a bit daring though, Timaeus reached for her hand then and without a word lifted it to his lips as a belated greeting and show of respect. It was a rather forward thing for him to do, but their conversation was so charged (he could practically feel the energy between them in the air) that he did not think she would mind. He had a certain inclination that she would be rather charmed by it.
He was only when he broke away that did he realize the heavy silence that had fallen across the room. Glancing back at the crowd to see why the endless buzz of chatter had suddenly drawn to a halt, Timaeus was surprised to see that none other than Vangelis had arrived, signaling that it was time for the feast to begin. Turning back to the girl, he knew that he was loathed to part from her so soon, especially as he was eager to know more about her than just her name; he made a bold move that completely disregarded any previous plans of his to sit near his brother, cousin, or close friend. It was something that under any other circumstances, he would never dare to do, but this evening was quickly shaping up to be a night of risks he was more than willing to take.
“ Would you be so kind as to sit with me this evening?”
It was a simple enough question and not one outside of the realm of possibility aa the guests were free to sit wherever they liked… but that didn’t make it any less daring. Pulling them both away from their families and in such a public way was quite a risk for them, subjecting a pair that barely knew each other to the gauntlet of courtly gossip, but Timaeus didn’t care for it. He knew at that moment that there was no way that he could simply return to his brother’s side to mind him when he was so enthralled by this foreign beauty. Her allure was too strong and the promise of spending an evening with a treasure like her was far too enthralling to consider anything else.
Luckily, she seemingly felt the same way and quickly affirmed that she too would like to accompany him for the feast.
So, with a wide grin on his face that was almost childish, Timaeus offered her his arm to take like the gentleman he was. Once she accepted, he quickly led the pair across the room to the large tables and found them a place at the table where they could sit across from one another. (He was lucky to find one too as they were one of the last to sit down, drawing far more eyes than he would have liked to them.) However, no one seemed to pay them no mind as all eyes were on their new king and the rest of the royal family as they also moved to take their places, leaving one spot noticeably absent at the head table.
Timaeus barely took notice of this though as his eyes kept drifting to the girl across from him; fully assured that this would be nothing more than a pleasant night for both him and the Leventi girl he was blessed to be in the company of that evening.
Athanasia wished that the floor would open up and swallow her whole. Why had she asked such a stupid question? King Stephanos would probably think she was daft. She did hope there would be dancing later. It would distract her from her grief. Vigorous activity was her answer to anything that distressed her, which was part of the reason she liked to go hunting at night or carouse about the city in disguise. Dancing was one of the more respectable ways of expending restless energy.
She should not have mentioned it, though. Men were supposed to ask women to dance, not the other way around. Why couldn't she have said something less embarrassing, like asking him how he and his family were settling into their new life? Why did she tend to speak without thinking?
All this ran through her mind in a matter of seconds and was completely forgotten when Stephanos graced her with a dazzling smile. Not for the first time, Athanasia thought how handsome he was. And his words caused her heart to leap in her chest. He wanted to dance with her, either here or somewhere else! She wouldn't mind at all leaving with him to find a party when the feast was over, as long as she informed Vangelis first.
Nor did she want her reputation to be tainted by rumors that she had dallied with a married man, or any man for that matter. At least he isn't a pirate, The gossip about Imeeya still irritated her, whether it was true or not. I would at least be spoken of as having the good sense to choose a king.
Maybe she had said the right thing after all. Stephanos seemed a bit happier than when she had approached him. Her own smile was mischievous and disarming. “I can hardly wait. In fact, I will count the minutes until we are twirling around together to the beat of a lively tune.” Athanasia plucked a glass of wine from a tray and took a hearty gulp.
She was about to inquire about his daughter when he brought up Imeeya. Athanasia's expression darkened and the smile faded from her face. While she should have come to her best friend's defense, she didn't. “I didn't think she kept secrets from me,” she sighed. “But now I know that she doesn't tell me everything.” Her cousin had recently warned her about compromising her own reputation and now she had completely ruined hers. At least she held a Barony in her own right. No man in his right mind would want to marry her now.
The young princess didn't notice that Mihail of Thanaai had approached them until he spoke. She turned toward him, her auburn-gold hair bouncing against her hips. He has a nice smile, she mused. and he's not bad-looking either, though not nearly as handsome as Stephanos. Those girls I were talking to will be envious because I'm in the company of two attractive men. Since that kiss at the market, she had began to see those of a male persuasion in a different light. It was if she had been awakened in a way she didn't completely understand.
“Thank you, Lord Mihail,” she said, smiling a bit wanly. “I appreciate your concern. This is a difficult time for our family, as you can well imagine. It's hard to believe he's really gone. I look for him everywhere and when there's something I want to tell him, it takes me a few moments to realize that I will never be able to speak to him again. I need to keep my attention on other things so I don't dwell so much on my sorrow. Maybe we can go hunting or riding together sometime?
“And you're not interrupting anything important,” she added, glancing over at Stephanos for confirmation. Athanasia was glad for Mihail's interruption. Though she would have loved to spend more time alone with the Taengean King, she didn't want to talk about Imeeya anymore. “We were just discussing the possibility of dancing after our meal.”
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Athanasia wished that the floor would open up and swallow her whole. Why had she asked such a stupid question? King Stephanos would probably think she was daft. She did hope there would be dancing later. It would distract her from her grief. Vigorous activity was her answer to anything that distressed her, which was part of the reason she liked to go hunting at night or carouse about the city in disguise. Dancing was one of the more respectable ways of expending restless energy.
She should not have mentioned it, though. Men were supposed to ask women to dance, not the other way around. Why couldn't she have said something less embarrassing, like asking him how he and his family were settling into their new life? Why did she tend to speak without thinking?
All this ran through her mind in a matter of seconds and was completely forgotten when Stephanos graced her with a dazzling smile. Not for the first time, Athanasia thought how handsome he was. And his words caused her heart to leap in her chest. He wanted to dance with her, either here or somewhere else! She wouldn't mind at all leaving with him to find a party when the feast was over, as long as she informed Vangelis first.
Nor did she want her reputation to be tainted by rumors that she had dallied with a married man, or any man for that matter. At least he isn't a pirate, The gossip about Imeeya still irritated her, whether it was true or not. I would at least be spoken of as having the good sense to choose a king.
Maybe she had said the right thing after all. Stephanos seemed a bit happier than when she had approached him. Her own smile was mischievous and disarming. “I can hardly wait. In fact, I will count the minutes until we are twirling around together to the beat of a lively tune.” Athanasia plucked a glass of wine from a tray and took a hearty gulp.
She was about to inquire about his daughter when he brought up Imeeya. Athanasia's expression darkened and the smile faded from her face. While she should have come to her best friend's defense, she didn't. “I didn't think she kept secrets from me,” she sighed. “But now I know that she doesn't tell me everything.” Her cousin had recently warned her about compromising her own reputation and now she had completely ruined hers. At least she held a Barony in her own right. No man in his right mind would want to marry her now.
The young princess didn't notice that Mihail of Thanaai had approached them until he spoke. She turned toward him, her auburn-gold hair bouncing against her hips. He has a nice smile, she mused. and he's not bad-looking either, though not nearly as handsome as Stephanos. Those girls I were talking to will be envious because I'm in the company of two attractive men. Since that kiss at the market, she had began to see those of a male persuasion in a different light. It was if she had been awakened in a way she didn't completely understand.
“Thank you, Lord Mihail,” she said, smiling a bit wanly. “I appreciate your concern. This is a difficult time for our family, as you can well imagine. It's hard to believe he's really gone. I look for him everywhere and when there's something I want to tell him, it takes me a few moments to realize that I will never be able to speak to him again. I need to keep my attention on other things so I don't dwell so much on my sorrow. Maybe we can go hunting or riding together sometime?
“And you're not interrupting anything important,” she added, glancing over at Stephanos for confirmation. Athanasia was glad for Mihail's interruption. Though she would have loved to spend more time alone with the Taengean King, she didn't want to talk about Imeeya anymore. “We were just discussing the possibility of dancing after our meal.”
Athanasia wished that the floor would open up and swallow her whole. Why had she asked such a stupid question? King Stephanos would probably think she was daft. She did hope there would be dancing later. It would distract her from her grief. Vigorous activity was her answer to anything that distressed her, which was part of the reason she liked to go hunting at night or carouse about the city in disguise. Dancing was one of the more respectable ways of expending restless energy.
She should not have mentioned it, though. Men were supposed to ask women to dance, not the other way around. Why couldn't she have said something less embarrassing, like asking him how he and his family were settling into their new life? Why did she tend to speak without thinking?
All this ran through her mind in a matter of seconds and was completely forgotten when Stephanos graced her with a dazzling smile. Not for the first time, Athanasia thought how handsome he was. And his words caused her heart to leap in her chest. He wanted to dance with her, either here or somewhere else! She wouldn't mind at all leaving with him to find a party when the feast was over, as long as she informed Vangelis first.
Nor did she want her reputation to be tainted by rumors that she had dallied with a married man, or any man for that matter. At least he isn't a pirate, The gossip about Imeeya still irritated her, whether it was true or not. I would at least be spoken of as having the good sense to choose a king.
Maybe she had said the right thing after all. Stephanos seemed a bit happier than when she had approached him. Her own smile was mischievous and disarming. “I can hardly wait. In fact, I will count the minutes until we are twirling around together to the beat of a lively tune.” Athanasia plucked a glass of wine from a tray and took a hearty gulp.
She was about to inquire about his daughter when he brought up Imeeya. Athanasia's expression darkened and the smile faded from her face. While she should have come to her best friend's defense, she didn't. “I didn't think she kept secrets from me,” she sighed. “But now I know that she doesn't tell me everything.” Her cousin had recently warned her about compromising her own reputation and now she had completely ruined hers. At least she held a Barony in her own right. No man in his right mind would want to marry her now.
The young princess didn't notice that Mihail of Thanaai had approached them until he spoke. She turned toward him, her auburn-gold hair bouncing against her hips. He has a nice smile, she mused. and he's not bad-looking either, though not nearly as handsome as Stephanos. Those girls I were talking to will be envious because I'm in the company of two attractive men. Since that kiss at the market, she had began to see those of a male persuasion in a different light. It was if she had been awakened in a way she didn't completely understand.
“Thank you, Lord Mihail,” she said, smiling a bit wanly. “I appreciate your concern. This is a difficult time for our family, as you can well imagine. It's hard to believe he's really gone. I look for him everywhere and when there's something I want to tell him, it takes me a few moments to realize that I will never be able to speak to him again. I need to keep my attention on other things so I don't dwell so much on my sorrow. Maybe we can go hunting or riding together sometime?
“And you're not interrupting anything important,” she added, glancing over at Stephanos for confirmation. Athanasia was glad for Mihail's interruption. Though she would have loved to spend more time alone with the Taengean King, she didn't want to talk about Imeeya anymore. “We were just discussing the possibility of dancing after our meal.”