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For someone who was not Stephanos, expecting an enthusiastic yes might have been arrogant. For him, however, who was rumored to be blessed by Aphrodite, it wasn’t arrogant. It was normal. No woman ever turned him down, especially not for just a dance. To him, as soon as she’d suggested it, and he’d agreed, it was a done deal. Just a dance.
What he hadn’t expected was for her mood to suddenly turn from the adorable shyness to the sudden irritation. Her mutterings made him glance across the way, where Imeeya stood talking, unaware that she was being discussed. What had he stepped into, he wondered? While they’d been on the ship, he hadn’t spoken much to anybody. In Taengea, he’d never sensed anything amiss between the two friends but then, he hadn’t been paying attention. There was no way to miss it now, though. Athanasia didn’t seem like someone who was particularly good at hiding what she was thinking. That or she trusted him to be discreet, which was something he was completely capable of.
Before he could answer, a young, dark haired man joined them. He bore some resemblance to someone that Stephanos was trying to place and failed. The dark, cold look in the man’s eyes was seriously familiar but Stephanos said nothing while Mihail gave his condolences to Athanasia. For a second, his own stomach flipped hard, because he had the momentary confusion that he was being consoled about his own father’s death. He recovered quickly, hiding the discomfort he felt by taking a huge gulp of wine. Athanasia’s father had died. He felt like a complete fool and utter imbecile for not extending the same courtesy to her that he’d given her mother.
As soon as Athanasia said Lord Mihail’s name, the rest of the title came to him. Thanasi. That made Stephanos glance about the room and within a few moments, his eyes landed on Nethis. If she came this way, he wasn’t sure what Olympia would do. Surely the information that he was married and king would have filtered across the sea, but he wasn’t totally sure. It had only been a few months ago that he’d even been coronated and he wasn’t arrogant enough to think that his kingdom’s gossip meant much here. Obviously it didn’t. These people were more concerned with Imeeya and her proclivity for sailors. Which he was going to have to talk to her about, because, really. She shouldn’t be taking on peasant lovers. It was unseemly. Stick with her own kind. That’s what he did.
When Athanasia kept speaking, he wished he hadn’t decided to pay attention right at that second. His chest ached with the very sudden reminder that he felt exactly the same. It was irritating to discover that sometimes the loss of a parent could be as fresh several months later as it was when the loss first happened. Again, he hid the discomfort by draining the entire cup, coughing, and then grabbing another cup from a passing servant. He turned, coughed again, and took a sip to ease his throat.
Ok. So tonight might have been a terrible idea.
“And you're not interrupting anything important,” Athanasia said just as he turned back around and caught her eye.
“No,” he agreed, taking another huge sip. After this cup, this was the last, he decided. The very last thing he needed was to be wasted at this dinner.
“We were just discussing the possibility of dancing after our meal,” she went on.
“We don’t have to if it’s inconvenient,” he said, looking down into the wine and then back at the princess and Mihail in turn. “Are you fond of dancing, Lord Mihail?” he asked and again his gaze bounced between Pia and Nethis. Could he dissolve into the floor? Surely that was an option. After that enormous fight with Pia, he didn’t want another. Especially not for sins he assumed were well in the past.
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For someone who was not Stephanos, expecting an enthusiastic yes might have been arrogant. For him, however, who was rumored to be blessed by Aphrodite, it wasn’t arrogant. It was normal. No woman ever turned him down, especially not for just a dance. To him, as soon as she’d suggested it, and he’d agreed, it was a done deal. Just a dance.
What he hadn’t expected was for her mood to suddenly turn from the adorable shyness to the sudden irritation. Her mutterings made him glance across the way, where Imeeya stood talking, unaware that she was being discussed. What had he stepped into, he wondered? While they’d been on the ship, he hadn’t spoken much to anybody. In Taengea, he’d never sensed anything amiss between the two friends but then, he hadn’t been paying attention. There was no way to miss it now, though. Athanasia didn’t seem like someone who was particularly good at hiding what she was thinking. That or she trusted him to be discreet, which was something he was completely capable of.
Before he could answer, a young, dark haired man joined them. He bore some resemblance to someone that Stephanos was trying to place and failed. The dark, cold look in the man’s eyes was seriously familiar but Stephanos said nothing while Mihail gave his condolences to Athanasia. For a second, his own stomach flipped hard, because he had the momentary confusion that he was being consoled about his own father’s death. He recovered quickly, hiding the discomfort he felt by taking a huge gulp of wine. Athanasia’s father had died. He felt like a complete fool and utter imbecile for not extending the same courtesy to her that he’d given her mother.
As soon as Athanasia said Lord Mihail’s name, the rest of the title came to him. Thanasi. That made Stephanos glance about the room and within a few moments, his eyes landed on Nethis. If she came this way, he wasn’t sure what Olympia would do. Surely the information that he was married and king would have filtered across the sea, but he wasn’t totally sure. It had only been a few months ago that he’d even been coronated and he wasn’t arrogant enough to think that his kingdom’s gossip meant much here. Obviously it didn’t. These people were more concerned with Imeeya and her proclivity for sailors. Which he was going to have to talk to her about, because, really. She shouldn’t be taking on peasant lovers. It was unseemly. Stick with her own kind. That’s what he did.
When Athanasia kept speaking, he wished he hadn’t decided to pay attention right at that second. His chest ached with the very sudden reminder that he felt exactly the same. It was irritating to discover that sometimes the loss of a parent could be as fresh several months later as it was when the loss first happened. Again, he hid the discomfort by draining the entire cup, coughing, and then grabbing another cup from a passing servant. He turned, coughed again, and took a sip to ease his throat.
Ok. So tonight might have been a terrible idea.
“And you're not interrupting anything important,” Athanasia said just as he turned back around and caught her eye.
“No,” he agreed, taking another huge sip. After this cup, this was the last, he decided. The very last thing he needed was to be wasted at this dinner.
“We were just discussing the possibility of dancing after our meal,” she went on.
“We don’t have to if it’s inconvenient,” he said, looking down into the wine and then back at the princess and Mihail in turn. “Are you fond of dancing, Lord Mihail?” he asked and again his gaze bounced between Pia and Nethis. Could he dissolve into the floor? Surely that was an option. After that enormous fight with Pia, he didn’t want another. Especially not for sins he assumed were well in the past.
For someone who was not Stephanos, expecting an enthusiastic yes might have been arrogant. For him, however, who was rumored to be blessed by Aphrodite, it wasn’t arrogant. It was normal. No woman ever turned him down, especially not for just a dance. To him, as soon as she’d suggested it, and he’d agreed, it was a done deal. Just a dance.
What he hadn’t expected was for her mood to suddenly turn from the adorable shyness to the sudden irritation. Her mutterings made him glance across the way, where Imeeya stood talking, unaware that she was being discussed. What had he stepped into, he wondered? While they’d been on the ship, he hadn’t spoken much to anybody. In Taengea, he’d never sensed anything amiss between the two friends but then, he hadn’t been paying attention. There was no way to miss it now, though. Athanasia didn’t seem like someone who was particularly good at hiding what she was thinking. That or she trusted him to be discreet, which was something he was completely capable of.
Before he could answer, a young, dark haired man joined them. He bore some resemblance to someone that Stephanos was trying to place and failed. The dark, cold look in the man’s eyes was seriously familiar but Stephanos said nothing while Mihail gave his condolences to Athanasia. For a second, his own stomach flipped hard, because he had the momentary confusion that he was being consoled about his own father’s death. He recovered quickly, hiding the discomfort he felt by taking a huge gulp of wine. Athanasia’s father had died. He felt like a complete fool and utter imbecile for not extending the same courtesy to her that he’d given her mother.
As soon as Athanasia said Lord Mihail’s name, the rest of the title came to him. Thanasi. That made Stephanos glance about the room and within a few moments, his eyes landed on Nethis. If she came this way, he wasn’t sure what Olympia would do. Surely the information that he was married and king would have filtered across the sea, but he wasn’t totally sure. It had only been a few months ago that he’d even been coronated and he wasn’t arrogant enough to think that his kingdom’s gossip meant much here. Obviously it didn’t. These people were more concerned with Imeeya and her proclivity for sailors. Which he was going to have to talk to her about, because, really. She shouldn’t be taking on peasant lovers. It was unseemly. Stick with her own kind. That’s what he did.
When Athanasia kept speaking, he wished he hadn’t decided to pay attention right at that second. His chest ached with the very sudden reminder that he felt exactly the same. It was irritating to discover that sometimes the loss of a parent could be as fresh several months later as it was when the loss first happened. Again, he hid the discomfort by draining the entire cup, coughing, and then grabbing another cup from a passing servant. He turned, coughed again, and took a sip to ease his throat.
Ok. So tonight might have been a terrible idea.
“And you're not interrupting anything important,” Athanasia said just as he turned back around and caught her eye.
“No,” he agreed, taking another huge sip. After this cup, this was the last, he decided. The very last thing he needed was to be wasted at this dinner.
“We were just discussing the possibility of dancing after our meal,” she went on.
“We don’t have to if it’s inconvenient,” he said, looking down into the wine and then back at the princess and Mihail in turn. “Are you fond of dancing, Lord Mihail?” he asked and again his gaze bounced between Pia and Nethis. Could he dissolve into the floor? Surely that was an option. After that enormous fight with Pia, he didn’t want another. Especially not for sins he assumed were well in the past.
Dionysios cared little for the way his daughters hovered. They made it seem as if he couldn't put one damned foot in front of the other without either their instruction or support. It was true that he walked with a cane now - it helped ease the pain that would run down his right leg when he walked to much. But he was hardly decrepit. And he would show them who was still the Head of this family if they chose to continue to defy him.
This last he thought would a shrewd glare in his youngest son's direction. The child looked like a laughing stock and he would see about correcting that once they were all home. But noble folk did not air their dirty laundry - however garish it might be - in public.
Shrugging off the touch of his eldest daughter, Dionysios did nothing to lower his voice. It did not matter if people heard him. People always heard him. Had always heard him. He was a man of great respect whom others shut up just to listen to. His words were factual and stamped with the mark of authority and experience. If the new King was so sentimental that he was to take offence then how was he ever planning on ruling Colchis - the great and powerful monstrous nation that it was.
Sitting himself at the table of his choice and demanding to be brought wine by a passing servant, Dionysios was already holding a chalice - for the Kotas knew how to handle and discipline their servants - by the time the Queen of Colchis came over to join and greet them. Murmurs of acceptance at their presence were given and Dionysios was quick to stand and bow with respect to the woman.
Yanni was a curious creature. A woman of great beauty that seemed to age with much grace and elegance, he respected her for the intellect he saw behind her eyes - the smarts that she wasn't always quick to allow to leave her lips. Whilst he had never had much patience for Tython - a man too often away from his home to be a true monarch - he had always (at least within his own mind) given allowance for the wise and efficient ways in which Queen Yanni ran the kingdom in her husband's absence.
A fact that only encouraged a feeling of resentment towards the House that, as far as he was concerned, had the throne that he wanted. He would have preferred them to be thoroughly incompetent.
Greetings and welcomes made, Dionysios returned to his seat, his turning towards his cup a dismissal of a woman of technically higher rank than himself. This, however, he did not care about. The woman had no husband and her king was not yet in attendance. He was male, older than her by nearly three decades and was a stable of power within the Senate. He would do what he liked and she would have no male counterpart to challenge him upon it.
Rather than challenge him, however, the Queen simply smiled, offered a demure nod of her head, and with a friendly and open greeting to each of his daughters - even Nethis who made her distaste for the family abundantly clear at times - the widowed Queen then made her way to her own seat, a subtle gesture of the hand guiding her daughter-in-law to follow until she had to break away in order to speak with the servants.
She was only a few steps away from the group, however, when the King's arrival was announced and the oldest of the Kotas brats turned up in all his pomp and circumstance. After a brief nod and greeting to each of the Thanasi clan, which Dionysios offered a nod to, refusing to stand and offer a full bow to the man (he was old, he would use it as an excuse as much as he could when it came to showing respect to a Kotas monarch). He noticed his middle daughter's gaze falling upon the King for a moment and how the King in return offered her nothing but a passing glance.
Interesting...
Turning back to his chalice and sipping from its rim, his cane upon the floor between his knees, his hands folded atop its serpentine head, Dionysios watched as the royal family moved to find their seats and the procession caused others to follow suit, filing into the long wooden benches at each table and being accosted by servants who stepped forwards with trays of wine.
It wasn't until each noble, captain and royal had a cup of wine before them and all were seated that the new King kept himself standing, clearly intending to address the hall...
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Dionysios cared little for the way his daughters hovered. They made it seem as if he couldn't put one damned foot in front of the other without either their instruction or support. It was true that he walked with a cane now - it helped ease the pain that would run down his right leg when he walked to much. But he was hardly decrepit. And he would show them who was still the Head of this family if they chose to continue to defy him.
This last he thought would a shrewd glare in his youngest son's direction. The child looked like a laughing stock and he would see about correcting that once they were all home. But noble folk did not air their dirty laundry - however garish it might be - in public.
Shrugging off the touch of his eldest daughter, Dionysios did nothing to lower his voice. It did not matter if people heard him. People always heard him. Had always heard him. He was a man of great respect whom others shut up just to listen to. His words were factual and stamped with the mark of authority and experience. If the new King was so sentimental that he was to take offence then how was he ever planning on ruling Colchis - the great and powerful monstrous nation that it was.
Sitting himself at the table of his choice and demanding to be brought wine by a passing servant, Dionysios was already holding a chalice - for the Kotas knew how to handle and discipline their servants - by the time the Queen of Colchis came over to join and greet them. Murmurs of acceptance at their presence were given and Dionysios was quick to stand and bow with respect to the woman.
Yanni was a curious creature. A woman of great beauty that seemed to age with much grace and elegance, he respected her for the intellect he saw behind her eyes - the smarts that she wasn't always quick to allow to leave her lips. Whilst he had never had much patience for Tython - a man too often away from his home to be a true monarch - he had always (at least within his own mind) given allowance for the wise and efficient ways in which Queen Yanni ran the kingdom in her husband's absence.
A fact that only encouraged a feeling of resentment towards the House that, as far as he was concerned, had the throne that he wanted. He would have preferred them to be thoroughly incompetent.
Greetings and welcomes made, Dionysios returned to his seat, his turning towards his cup a dismissal of a woman of technically higher rank than himself. This, however, he did not care about. The woman had no husband and her king was not yet in attendance. He was male, older than her by nearly three decades and was a stable of power within the Senate. He would do what he liked and she would have no male counterpart to challenge him upon it.
Rather than challenge him, however, the Queen simply smiled, offered a demure nod of her head, and with a friendly and open greeting to each of his daughters - even Nethis who made her distaste for the family abundantly clear at times - the widowed Queen then made her way to her own seat, a subtle gesture of the hand guiding her daughter-in-law to follow until she had to break away in order to speak with the servants.
She was only a few steps away from the group, however, when the King's arrival was announced and the oldest of the Kotas brats turned up in all his pomp and circumstance. After a brief nod and greeting to each of the Thanasi clan, which Dionysios offered a nod to, refusing to stand and offer a full bow to the man (he was old, he would use it as an excuse as much as he could when it came to showing respect to a Kotas monarch). He noticed his middle daughter's gaze falling upon the King for a moment and how the King in return offered her nothing but a passing glance.
Interesting...
Turning back to his chalice and sipping from its rim, his cane upon the floor between his knees, his hands folded atop its serpentine head, Dionysios watched as the royal family moved to find their seats and the procession caused others to follow suit, filing into the long wooden benches at each table and being accosted by servants who stepped forwards with trays of wine.
It wasn't until each noble, captain and royal had a cup of wine before them and all were seated that the new King kept himself standing, clearly intending to address the hall...
Dionysios cared little for the way his daughters hovered. They made it seem as if he couldn't put one damned foot in front of the other without either their instruction or support. It was true that he walked with a cane now - it helped ease the pain that would run down his right leg when he walked to much. But he was hardly decrepit. And he would show them who was still the Head of this family if they chose to continue to defy him.
This last he thought would a shrewd glare in his youngest son's direction. The child looked like a laughing stock and he would see about correcting that once they were all home. But noble folk did not air their dirty laundry - however garish it might be - in public.
Shrugging off the touch of his eldest daughter, Dionysios did nothing to lower his voice. It did not matter if people heard him. People always heard him. Had always heard him. He was a man of great respect whom others shut up just to listen to. His words were factual and stamped with the mark of authority and experience. If the new King was so sentimental that he was to take offence then how was he ever planning on ruling Colchis - the great and powerful monstrous nation that it was.
Sitting himself at the table of his choice and demanding to be brought wine by a passing servant, Dionysios was already holding a chalice - for the Kotas knew how to handle and discipline their servants - by the time the Queen of Colchis came over to join and greet them. Murmurs of acceptance at their presence were given and Dionysios was quick to stand and bow with respect to the woman.
Yanni was a curious creature. A woman of great beauty that seemed to age with much grace and elegance, he respected her for the intellect he saw behind her eyes - the smarts that she wasn't always quick to allow to leave her lips. Whilst he had never had much patience for Tython - a man too often away from his home to be a true monarch - he had always (at least within his own mind) given allowance for the wise and efficient ways in which Queen Yanni ran the kingdom in her husband's absence.
A fact that only encouraged a feeling of resentment towards the House that, as far as he was concerned, had the throne that he wanted. He would have preferred them to be thoroughly incompetent.
Greetings and welcomes made, Dionysios returned to his seat, his turning towards his cup a dismissal of a woman of technically higher rank than himself. This, however, he did not care about. The woman had no husband and her king was not yet in attendance. He was male, older than her by nearly three decades and was a stable of power within the Senate. He would do what he liked and she would have no male counterpart to challenge him upon it.
Rather than challenge him, however, the Queen simply smiled, offered a demure nod of her head, and with a friendly and open greeting to each of his daughters - even Nethis who made her distaste for the family abundantly clear at times - the widowed Queen then made her way to her own seat, a subtle gesture of the hand guiding her daughter-in-law to follow until she had to break away in order to speak with the servants.
She was only a few steps away from the group, however, when the King's arrival was announced and the oldest of the Kotas brats turned up in all his pomp and circumstance. After a brief nod and greeting to each of the Thanasi clan, which Dionysios offered a nod to, refusing to stand and offer a full bow to the man (he was old, he would use it as an excuse as much as he could when it came to showing respect to a Kotas monarch). He noticed his middle daughter's gaze falling upon the King for a moment and how the King in return offered her nothing but a passing glance.
Interesting...
Turning back to his chalice and sipping from its rim, his cane upon the floor between his knees, his hands folded atop its serpentine head, Dionysios watched as the royal family moved to find their seats and the procession caused others to follow suit, filing into the long wooden benches at each table and being accosted by servants who stepped forwards with trays of wine.
It wasn't until each noble, captain and royal had a cup of wine before them and all were seated that the new King kept himself standing, clearly intending to address the hall...
After gathering his presence and summarizing himself in such a bombastic manner, Damocles raised one of his war-wearied hands and elevated it to a prithee gesture, turning his attention to the fair lady before him and the boy-officer that only theoretically held equality in rank to him. His bright, shimmering silver eyes shone with his renowned energy and struck well on the matching couple before him, harboring his almost inexplicable devotion to ceremony and elegance. It would seem that Maleos had some explaining to do, given the presence of this creature aside his sullen presence, though he supposed at the same time that it was not an entirely unbelievable coupling.
She was not classically handsome, but still a significantly striking woman nonetheless. Her’s was a different kind of beauty, a morose beauty, encapsulated by a lithe appearance with wide light eyes and a cascade of furious dark curls that framed her high-cheek-boned face. With proper advice, he argued she could potentially rival, if not outshine some of the allegedly fairer ladies of court, but for now, she could be considered to be only outstandingly pretty. In many ways, her furious dark curls reminded him heavily of Maleos, contemplating in the towering career soldier the possible prospect of narcissism on behalf of his younger counterpart. It would seem that the oft-spoken youth harbored some sense of self-love in his otherwise dour visage.
“Captain Damocles, it's an honor," She began, manifesting a sonorous voice that seemed paradoxically appropriate. His strongly marked face smoothen to a smile and his hand extended to his side before lowering his head down low and his torso at an ever so slightly angle. "Leto of Chaossis. The only real laud to my name is that I am sister to the Master Informer, Magnus of Chaossis."
“It is an honor to be recognized by the Acclaimed and most fetching sister of the great Master Informer himself!” He replied, setting his gestures to a tone that titillated between formal and casual. “Alas, none of this captain business, my fairest Lady. No need for such formality We are all but humble servants to our golden King after all, equals only to the measure of light showered by His Majesty himself. If it may please you, you may simply call me Damocles, Lady Leto.” Continued the baritone voiced man through his slow, if not deceptively languid manner of dictation and precise speech pattern.
"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." Commended Maleos who gathered up the older captain’s attention from the morose lady. In his opinion, the boy before him had much promise to show and talent to go further than he would probably dare to admit. He was very much aware that he was a youth of few words, and for this, the silver-eyed man would not fault him. Although, the same could not be said for his fantastically serious demeanor. Sure, it would do well to keep a steely head once in a while, though a laugh and a joke here and there would do no harm, right?
“Oh? Is that so? Well then, I must make bold on these laurels and test your familiar affinity myself. Surely we may find a suitable time for a demonstration of sorts I wager? Nary do blades last in my hand haha!” He joked, referencing his habit of wasting away any edge on a sword in a matter of weeks. “I must warn you ,my good friends, that I take these matters well to heart. Though I am not one to favor the sword, I still find myself in need of arms. Tell me, would your father forge a sword for me if so commissioned?” he inquired, softening his handsome face to a relaxed and intrigued one. “Ah, speaking of magnificence!” acknowledged Damocles as he heard the sound of silence take hold on the grand room.
The wayward announcement of a royal presence would but put their conversations to a halt. With a gentle, closed-mouthed smile, Damocles bowed his head at the general direction to the source of the presence, but kept his silvery-eyes to cold glances. Outwardly, he would join in in the welter of silenced voices that had been quelled by the king’s arrival, but in that silence, without so much as producing but a mere whisper of conspiracy, the Captain of the Damned quietly passed judgement to his oath-bound superior. Had the crown been slighted with poison, mayhaps a modicum of justice would be delivered upon this gross negligence of truth. Alas, none had been such brave assassin. What a true and unfortunate shame.
"Captains, I must return to my escort. I do not doubt the gods will allow our paths to cross again before the night is through." Said lady Leto as she began to make her way to her proper station. Of course, before doing so, Damocles addressed her one more time until he would focus his lavished attentions to Maleos. “Indeed. I pray we make take away much from this night, Lady Leto. And worry naught, I shall make a talker out of our common friend yet!” He jested, patting the stern man in the back as the willowy lady left to take her place by the other members of the summoned and invited court. Once that was over with, the Herculean Captain grinned at the shorter man and chuckled to himself. “Have I ever told you about the time I was held captive by pirates as a young hoplite in the military?” he introduced, bringing forth an amusing story concerning his past, a musing that would at the very least cause some semblance of laughter to escape his equal in rank.
Spiriting Maleos away to the general direction of their respective area, the Captain of the Damned once more noted a familiar presence at himself. Whilst breaking words with the long-haired pair, a set of soft, glancing eyes had met him with interest peaked and curiosity attained. As provided by so in pleasant manners, he only returned the gaze of the golden haired woman that shone her shy eyes to him with a subtle smile so he did not distract himself from either Leto or her companion. Yet, as he once more turned to his seat, he returned his silver eyes to the same woman, this time flashing her a fast wink of his left while he carefully regale Maleos with his stories about his seafaring adventures.
“By the time I was boy of seventeen blessed summers, I had gathered a reputation before the sight of the Gods, for no man could ever prove well his worth, for being quite the mischievous monster! Earlier in my life I had gone up to the bathing daughters of a merchant and took their robes, smirking and laughing as they rushed to their father’s house. To this day I can still see their enormous tits bouncing around! Thank the Gods for such a sight! Ah! And even after I joined the military, I still had my fun! At age fourteen I stuffed one of the officer’s helms with shit! I was confronted yes, but my account was believable, whereas another boy’s own was not! Poor, stupid, dimwitted boy ended up pissing his pants after the shit-covered officer snarled at him. And in another account, I milked my eel into a pot of stew, flogging my one-eyed snake and skinning my own natural sword till release against the food. And by the time one of the scibes of the Unit, a fat, bald man, ate the stew, tears streamed his face as my seed found in his food!” Ahahaha!”
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After gathering his presence and summarizing himself in such a bombastic manner, Damocles raised one of his war-wearied hands and elevated it to a prithee gesture, turning his attention to the fair lady before him and the boy-officer that only theoretically held equality in rank to him. His bright, shimmering silver eyes shone with his renowned energy and struck well on the matching couple before him, harboring his almost inexplicable devotion to ceremony and elegance. It would seem that Maleos had some explaining to do, given the presence of this creature aside his sullen presence, though he supposed at the same time that it was not an entirely unbelievable coupling.
She was not classically handsome, but still a significantly striking woman nonetheless. Her’s was a different kind of beauty, a morose beauty, encapsulated by a lithe appearance with wide light eyes and a cascade of furious dark curls that framed her high-cheek-boned face. With proper advice, he argued she could potentially rival, if not outshine some of the allegedly fairer ladies of court, but for now, she could be considered to be only outstandingly pretty. In many ways, her furious dark curls reminded him heavily of Maleos, contemplating in the towering career soldier the possible prospect of narcissism on behalf of his younger counterpart. It would seem that the oft-spoken youth harbored some sense of self-love in his otherwise dour visage.
“Captain Damocles, it's an honor," She began, manifesting a sonorous voice that seemed paradoxically appropriate. His strongly marked face smoothen to a smile and his hand extended to his side before lowering his head down low and his torso at an ever so slightly angle. "Leto of Chaossis. The only real laud to my name is that I am sister to the Master Informer, Magnus of Chaossis."
“It is an honor to be recognized by the Acclaimed and most fetching sister of the great Master Informer himself!” He replied, setting his gestures to a tone that titillated between formal and casual. “Alas, none of this captain business, my fairest Lady. No need for such formality We are all but humble servants to our golden King after all, equals only to the measure of light showered by His Majesty himself. If it may please you, you may simply call me Damocles, Lady Leto.” Continued the baritone voiced man through his slow, if not deceptively languid manner of dictation and precise speech pattern.
"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." Commended Maleos who gathered up the older captain’s attention from the morose lady. In his opinion, the boy before him had much promise to show and talent to go further than he would probably dare to admit. He was very much aware that he was a youth of few words, and for this, the silver-eyed man would not fault him. Although, the same could not be said for his fantastically serious demeanor. Sure, it would do well to keep a steely head once in a while, though a laugh and a joke here and there would do no harm, right?
“Oh? Is that so? Well then, I must make bold on these laurels and test your familiar affinity myself. Surely we may find a suitable time for a demonstration of sorts I wager? Nary do blades last in my hand haha!” He joked, referencing his habit of wasting away any edge on a sword in a matter of weeks. “I must warn you ,my good friends, that I take these matters well to heart. Though I am not one to favor the sword, I still find myself in need of arms. Tell me, would your father forge a sword for me if so commissioned?” he inquired, softening his handsome face to a relaxed and intrigued one. “Ah, speaking of magnificence!” acknowledged Damocles as he heard the sound of silence take hold on the grand room.
The wayward announcement of a royal presence would but put their conversations to a halt. With a gentle, closed-mouthed smile, Damocles bowed his head at the general direction to the source of the presence, but kept his silvery-eyes to cold glances. Outwardly, he would join in in the welter of silenced voices that had been quelled by the king’s arrival, but in that silence, without so much as producing but a mere whisper of conspiracy, the Captain of the Damned quietly passed judgement to his oath-bound superior. Had the crown been slighted with poison, mayhaps a modicum of justice would be delivered upon this gross negligence of truth. Alas, none had been such brave assassin. What a true and unfortunate shame.
"Captains, I must return to my escort. I do not doubt the gods will allow our paths to cross again before the night is through." Said lady Leto as she began to make her way to her proper station. Of course, before doing so, Damocles addressed her one more time until he would focus his lavished attentions to Maleos. “Indeed. I pray we make take away much from this night, Lady Leto. And worry naught, I shall make a talker out of our common friend yet!” He jested, patting the stern man in the back as the willowy lady left to take her place by the other members of the summoned and invited court. Once that was over with, the Herculean Captain grinned at the shorter man and chuckled to himself. “Have I ever told you about the time I was held captive by pirates as a young hoplite in the military?” he introduced, bringing forth an amusing story concerning his past, a musing that would at the very least cause some semblance of laughter to escape his equal in rank.
Spiriting Maleos away to the general direction of their respective area, the Captain of the Damned once more noted a familiar presence at himself. Whilst breaking words with the long-haired pair, a set of soft, glancing eyes had met him with interest peaked and curiosity attained. As provided by so in pleasant manners, he only returned the gaze of the golden haired woman that shone her shy eyes to him with a subtle smile so he did not distract himself from either Leto or her companion. Yet, as he once more turned to his seat, he returned his silver eyes to the same woman, this time flashing her a fast wink of his left while he carefully regale Maleos with his stories about his seafaring adventures.
“By the time I was boy of seventeen blessed summers, I had gathered a reputation before the sight of the Gods, for no man could ever prove well his worth, for being quite the mischievous monster! Earlier in my life I had gone up to the bathing daughters of a merchant and took their robes, smirking and laughing as they rushed to their father’s house. To this day I can still see their enormous tits bouncing around! Thank the Gods for such a sight! Ah! And even after I joined the military, I still had my fun! At age fourteen I stuffed one of the officer’s helms with shit! I was confronted yes, but my account was believable, whereas another boy’s own was not! Poor, stupid, dimwitted boy ended up pissing his pants after the shit-covered officer snarled at him. And in another account, I milked my eel into a pot of stew, flogging my one-eyed snake and skinning my own natural sword till release against the food. And by the time one of the scibes of the Unit, a fat, bald man, ate the stew, tears streamed his face as my seed found in his food!” Ahahaha!”
After gathering his presence and summarizing himself in such a bombastic manner, Damocles raised one of his war-wearied hands and elevated it to a prithee gesture, turning his attention to the fair lady before him and the boy-officer that only theoretically held equality in rank to him. His bright, shimmering silver eyes shone with his renowned energy and struck well on the matching couple before him, harboring his almost inexplicable devotion to ceremony and elegance. It would seem that Maleos had some explaining to do, given the presence of this creature aside his sullen presence, though he supposed at the same time that it was not an entirely unbelievable coupling.
She was not classically handsome, but still a significantly striking woman nonetheless. Her’s was a different kind of beauty, a morose beauty, encapsulated by a lithe appearance with wide light eyes and a cascade of furious dark curls that framed her high-cheek-boned face. With proper advice, he argued she could potentially rival, if not outshine some of the allegedly fairer ladies of court, but for now, she could be considered to be only outstandingly pretty. In many ways, her furious dark curls reminded him heavily of Maleos, contemplating in the towering career soldier the possible prospect of narcissism on behalf of his younger counterpart. It would seem that the oft-spoken youth harbored some sense of self-love in his otherwise dour visage.
“Captain Damocles, it's an honor," She began, manifesting a sonorous voice that seemed paradoxically appropriate. His strongly marked face smoothen to a smile and his hand extended to his side before lowering his head down low and his torso at an ever so slightly angle. "Leto of Chaossis. The only real laud to my name is that I am sister to the Master Informer, Magnus of Chaossis."
“It is an honor to be recognized by the Acclaimed and most fetching sister of the great Master Informer himself!” He replied, setting his gestures to a tone that titillated between formal and casual. “Alas, none of this captain business, my fairest Lady. No need for such formality We are all but humble servants to our golden King after all, equals only to the measure of light showered by His Majesty himself. If it may please you, you may simply call me Damocles, Lady Leto.” Continued the baritone voiced man through his slow, if not deceptively languid manner of dictation and precise speech pattern.
"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." Commended Maleos who gathered up the older captain’s attention from the morose lady. In his opinion, the boy before him had much promise to show and talent to go further than he would probably dare to admit. He was very much aware that he was a youth of few words, and for this, the silver-eyed man would not fault him. Although, the same could not be said for his fantastically serious demeanor. Sure, it would do well to keep a steely head once in a while, though a laugh and a joke here and there would do no harm, right?
“Oh? Is that so? Well then, I must make bold on these laurels and test your familiar affinity myself. Surely we may find a suitable time for a demonstration of sorts I wager? Nary do blades last in my hand haha!” He joked, referencing his habit of wasting away any edge on a sword in a matter of weeks. “I must warn you ,my good friends, that I take these matters well to heart. Though I am not one to favor the sword, I still find myself in need of arms. Tell me, would your father forge a sword for me if so commissioned?” he inquired, softening his handsome face to a relaxed and intrigued one. “Ah, speaking of magnificence!” acknowledged Damocles as he heard the sound of silence take hold on the grand room.
The wayward announcement of a royal presence would but put their conversations to a halt. With a gentle, closed-mouthed smile, Damocles bowed his head at the general direction to the source of the presence, but kept his silvery-eyes to cold glances. Outwardly, he would join in in the welter of silenced voices that had been quelled by the king’s arrival, but in that silence, without so much as producing but a mere whisper of conspiracy, the Captain of the Damned quietly passed judgement to his oath-bound superior. Had the crown been slighted with poison, mayhaps a modicum of justice would be delivered upon this gross negligence of truth. Alas, none had been such brave assassin. What a true and unfortunate shame.
"Captains, I must return to my escort. I do not doubt the gods will allow our paths to cross again before the night is through." Said lady Leto as she began to make her way to her proper station. Of course, before doing so, Damocles addressed her one more time until he would focus his lavished attentions to Maleos. “Indeed. I pray we make take away much from this night, Lady Leto. And worry naught, I shall make a talker out of our common friend yet!” He jested, patting the stern man in the back as the willowy lady left to take her place by the other members of the summoned and invited court. Once that was over with, the Herculean Captain grinned at the shorter man and chuckled to himself. “Have I ever told you about the time I was held captive by pirates as a young hoplite in the military?” he introduced, bringing forth an amusing story concerning his past, a musing that would at the very least cause some semblance of laughter to escape his equal in rank.
Spiriting Maleos away to the general direction of their respective area, the Captain of the Damned once more noted a familiar presence at himself. Whilst breaking words with the long-haired pair, a set of soft, glancing eyes had met him with interest peaked and curiosity attained. As provided by so in pleasant manners, he only returned the gaze of the golden haired woman that shone her shy eyes to him with a subtle smile so he did not distract himself from either Leto or her companion. Yet, as he once more turned to his seat, he returned his silver eyes to the same woman, this time flashing her a fast wink of his left while he carefully regale Maleos with his stories about his seafaring adventures.
“By the time I was boy of seventeen blessed summers, I had gathered a reputation before the sight of the Gods, for no man could ever prove well his worth, for being quite the mischievous monster! Earlier in my life I had gone up to the bathing daughters of a merchant and took their robes, smirking and laughing as they rushed to their father’s house. To this day I can still see their enormous tits bouncing around! Thank the Gods for such a sight! Ah! And even after I joined the military, I still had my fun! At age fourteen I stuffed one of the officer’s helms with shit! I was confronted yes, but my account was believable, whereas another boy’s own was not! Poor, stupid, dimwitted boy ended up pissing his pants after the shit-covered officer snarled at him. And in another account, I milked my eel into a pot of stew, flogging my one-eyed snake and skinning my own natural sword till release against the food. And by the time one of the scibes of the Unit, a fat, bald man, ate the stew, tears streamed his face as my seed found in his food!” Ahahaha!”
Iolanthe greeted people as they arrived and left, finding herself in the circle of plenty of conversations and lifting a brow at the most recent rumors floating around regarding Imeeya of Drakos. The younger woman had always seemed so very proper, to hear of her jaunt down to the docks made the daughter of Peisistratos fonder of her already. Her most recent conversation had come to the halt as the new king entered, and she dipped into a low curtsy as he passed by, giving an encouraging smile to him before turning to Leto once more.
"Come, we should sit."
Once they'd arrived at their positions she broke into a broad smile as her cousin Silanos approached, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek and making sure to avoid his injuries. Her heart felt for the boy, in his midst of many troubles and trying his best to overcome them, she wished there was something she might do to help him through this. Perhaps suggesting a visit to Arcanaes to Tim, she could give him the freedom there he desired and there would be little risk of his reputation being damaged in such an open province. The twitch of her lips was the only sign she had noted his descriptor of Magnus, though for that she could not entirely fault him.
"I'm glad to see you in proper company, Silanos. My suitor has been detained in Taengea for the time being. Have you met his sister? Leto of Chaossis, this is my cousin Silanos of Valaoritis."
Looking between the two after the introduction, she felt a secret sort of smile brush over her lips at a thought. Silanos was unattached, and Leto deserved the status and wealth a marriage like this would bring. Perhaps she ought to speak to Magnus and Tim separately about the possibility of a match between the two. They had equal sparks about them, and would no doubt keep one another well entertained. With a small murmur of thanks, Iolanthe sat gracefully and gave an approving nod at Leto as she introduced herself to Imeeya.
"It is always good to see you, Lady Imeeya. You were recently in Taengea were you not? How did you find it?"
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Iolanthe greeted people as they arrived and left, finding herself in the circle of plenty of conversations and lifting a brow at the most recent rumors floating around regarding Imeeya of Drakos. The younger woman had always seemed so very proper, to hear of her jaunt down to the docks made the daughter of Peisistratos fonder of her already. Her most recent conversation had come to the halt as the new king entered, and she dipped into a low curtsy as he passed by, giving an encouraging smile to him before turning to Leto once more.
"Come, we should sit."
Once they'd arrived at their positions she broke into a broad smile as her cousin Silanos approached, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek and making sure to avoid his injuries. Her heart felt for the boy, in his midst of many troubles and trying his best to overcome them, she wished there was something she might do to help him through this. Perhaps suggesting a visit to Arcanaes to Tim, she could give him the freedom there he desired and there would be little risk of his reputation being damaged in such an open province. The twitch of her lips was the only sign she had noted his descriptor of Magnus, though for that she could not entirely fault him.
"I'm glad to see you in proper company, Silanos. My suitor has been detained in Taengea for the time being. Have you met his sister? Leto of Chaossis, this is my cousin Silanos of Valaoritis."
Looking between the two after the introduction, she felt a secret sort of smile brush over her lips at a thought. Silanos was unattached, and Leto deserved the status and wealth a marriage like this would bring. Perhaps she ought to speak to Magnus and Tim separately about the possibility of a match between the two. They had equal sparks about them, and would no doubt keep one another well entertained. With a small murmur of thanks, Iolanthe sat gracefully and gave an approving nod at Leto as she introduced herself to Imeeya.
"It is always good to see you, Lady Imeeya. You were recently in Taengea were you not? How did you find it?"
Iolanthe greeted people as they arrived and left, finding herself in the circle of plenty of conversations and lifting a brow at the most recent rumors floating around regarding Imeeya of Drakos. The younger woman had always seemed so very proper, to hear of her jaunt down to the docks made the daughter of Peisistratos fonder of her already. Her most recent conversation had come to the halt as the new king entered, and she dipped into a low curtsy as he passed by, giving an encouraging smile to him before turning to Leto once more.
"Come, we should sit."
Once they'd arrived at their positions she broke into a broad smile as her cousin Silanos approached, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek and making sure to avoid his injuries. Her heart felt for the boy, in his midst of many troubles and trying his best to overcome them, she wished there was something she might do to help him through this. Perhaps suggesting a visit to Arcanaes to Tim, she could give him the freedom there he desired and there would be little risk of his reputation being damaged in such an open province. The twitch of her lips was the only sign she had noted his descriptor of Magnus, though for that she could not entirely fault him.
"I'm glad to see you in proper company, Silanos. My suitor has been detained in Taengea for the time being. Have you met his sister? Leto of Chaossis, this is my cousin Silanos of Valaoritis."
Looking between the two after the introduction, she felt a secret sort of smile brush over her lips at a thought. Silanos was unattached, and Leto deserved the status and wealth a marriage like this would bring. Perhaps she ought to speak to Magnus and Tim separately about the possibility of a match between the two. They had equal sparks about them, and would no doubt keep one another well entertained. With a small murmur of thanks, Iolanthe sat gracefully and gave an approving nod at Leto as she introduced herself to Imeeya.
"It is always good to see you, Lady Imeeya. You were recently in Taengea were you not? How did you find it?"
The former queen very nearly dissolved into tears as her mother's secure embrace wrapped about her, and she hid her face in her shoulder for a moment before finally pulling back enough to resume some semblance of propriety. With her family, and her mother's questions, Olympia no longer tried to hide the inner feelings that had been tormenting her. She didn't know how to say it, nor was it something she should say here with so many who could possibly be listening. How could she tell her own mother that she was exhausted, miserable, in near constant pain from one thing or another. How could she tell her mother that she didn't know if she loved her daughter.
"I want to come home."
It was a foolish and childish request, one she knew could never be granted no matter how much she begged. Her life was forfeit if she returned to Taengea, and she had sworn an oath before the gods that she would stand by Stephanos' side. At least she had meant it when she'd said it, even if it appeared he cared little for those oaths. With a deep breath, she was finally composed enough to answer Evelli's other questions, even if a smile was impossible for her to force.
"The Colchians are good to us here. We want for nothing. Tisiphone is..." Loud. Exhausting. A disappointment. "She is well."
Pia looked away, hazel eyes searching and settling on her husband as he gathered companions of his own. The queen and then the princess, still mingling with those of his own rank even though they had lost what they'd had. A pang of jealousy went through her heart as she watched him laugh and smile with Princess Athanasia. The girl was young and beautiful, and unbroken by the birth of a child that only gave proof of a curse. A knot twisting in her heart made her wonder how long it would take before Stephanos found himself in another's bed.
There was little time for them to speak more before the new King Vangelis arrived and Olympia dipped into a pained curtsy before standing once more. She followed Selene's gaze to where Nana flirted happily enough with Timaeus of Valaoritis and gave a slight shake of her head. At this rate Nana would be betrothed to him before the feast was over. The second youngest Leventi had always been good at getting what she wanted. From what Pia had come to know of these people so far, it would be a decent match. No king or prince, but given what she had gone through since fulfilling the hopes of their parents, she didn't wish a royal title on any of her sisters. Moving with them to the table, she took her place beside them and leaned into her sister as she spoke.
"Nana knows better. And she could have chosen far worse. That is a dear friend of the new Crown Prince."
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The former queen very nearly dissolved into tears as her mother's secure embrace wrapped about her, and she hid her face in her shoulder for a moment before finally pulling back enough to resume some semblance of propriety. With her family, and her mother's questions, Olympia no longer tried to hide the inner feelings that had been tormenting her. She didn't know how to say it, nor was it something she should say here with so many who could possibly be listening. How could she tell her own mother that she was exhausted, miserable, in near constant pain from one thing or another. How could she tell her mother that she didn't know if she loved her daughter.
"I want to come home."
It was a foolish and childish request, one she knew could never be granted no matter how much she begged. Her life was forfeit if she returned to Taengea, and she had sworn an oath before the gods that she would stand by Stephanos' side. At least she had meant it when she'd said it, even if it appeared he cared little for those oaths. With a deep breath, she was finally composed enough to answer Evelli's other questions, even if a smile was impossible for her to force.
"The Colchians are good to us here. We want for nothing. Tisiphone is..." Loud. Exhausting. A disappointment. "She is well."
Pia looked away, hazel eyes searching and settling on her husband as he gathered companions of his own. The queen and then the princess, still mingling with those of his own rank even though they had lost what they'd had. A pang of jealousy went through her heart as she watched him laugh and smile with Princess Athanasia. The girl was young and beautiful, and unbroken by the birth of a child that only gave proof of a curse. A knot twisting in her heart made her wonder how long it would take before Stephanos found himself in another's bed.
There was little time for them to speak more before the new King Vangelis arrived and Olympia dipped into a pained curtsy before standing once more. She followed Selene's gaze to where Nana flirted happily enough with Timaeus of Valaoritis and gave a slight shake of her head. At this rate Nana would be betrothed to him before the feast was over. The second youngest Leventi had always been good at getting what she wanted. From what Pia had come to know of these people so far, it would be a decent match. No king or prince, but given what she had gone through since fulfilling the hopes of their parents, she didn't wish a royal title on any of her sisters. Moving with them to the table, she took her place beside them and leaned into her sister as she spoke.
"Nana knows better. And she could have chosen far worse. That is a dear friend of the new Crown Prince."
The former queen very nearly dissolved into tears as her mother's secure embrace wrapped about her, and she hid her face in her shoulder for a moment before finally pulling back enough to resume some semblance of propriety. With her family, and her mother's questions, Olympia no longer tried to hide the inner feelings that had been tormenting her. She didn't know how to say it, nor was it something she should say here with so many who could possibly be listening. How could she tell her own mother that she was exhausted, miserable, in near constant pain from one thing or another. How could she tell her mother that she didn't know if she loved her daughter.
"I want to come home."
It was a foolish and childish request, one she knew could never be granted no matter how much she begged. Her life was forfeit if she returned to Taengea, and she had sworn an oath before the gods that she would stand by Stephanos' side. At least she had meant it when she'd said it, even if it appeared he cared little for those oaths. With a deep breath, she was finally composed enough to answer Evelli's other questions, even if a smile was impossible for her to force.
"The Colchians are good to us here. We want for nothing. Tisiphone is..." Loud. Exhausting. A disappointment. "She is well."
Pia looked away, hazel eyes searching and settling on her husband as he gathered companions of his own. The queen and then the princess, still mingling with those of his own rank even though they had lost what they'd had. A pang of jealousy went through her heart as she watched him laugh and smile with Princess Athanasia. The girl was young and beautiful, and unbroken by the birth of a child that only gave proof of a curse. A knot twisting in her heart made her wonder how long it would take before Stephanos found himself in another's bed.
There was little time for them to speak more before the new King Vangelis arrived and Olympia dipped into a pained curtsy before standing once more. She followed Selene's gaze to where Nana flirted happily enough with Timaeus of Valaoritis and gave a slight shake of her head. At this rate Nana would be betrothed to him before the feast was over. The second youngest Leventi had always been good at getting what she wanted. From what Pia had come to know of these people so far, it would be a decent match. No king or prince, but given what she had gone through since fulfilling the hopes of their parents, she didn't wish a royal title on any of her sisters. Moving with them to the table, she took her place beside them and leaned into her sister as she spoke.
"Nana knows better. And she could have chosen far worse. That is a dear friend of the new Crown Prince."
Luckily Imeeya hadn’t had to wait long before she was joined by a young woman, who she was sure that she hadn’t met before. The name given was not noble, which would explain her introducing herself, even if she had been hesitant to do so. Not that Imeeya had any ground on which to disdain someone for making their own introduction. There was something about that confidence that made her smile a bit at this woman who had decided to approach her. As Imeeya introduced herself, she hoped that this woman hadn’t heard the rumors that seemed to be spreading around the gathering. “I’m Lady Imeeya of Drakos. It’s a pleasure meeting you as well.” She gave a nod towards the woman, and took a sip of her own wine, trying to give herself a moment to choose a topic of conversation that might interest a person of her station.
Before she had had a chance to talk further with this woman, they were joined by Iolanthe of Valaoritis and unfortunately, her cousin Silanos. Imeeya’s encounter with the man only a few days prior had not ended well for her, as he had, supposedly by accident, drugged her wine. Imeeya couldn’t believe his boldness in sitting so close to her. While she hadn’t dared to spread the rumors of what had happened that night for fear of it reflecting badly on her, he had no way to know that she hadn’t already reported it. The man seemed to have a knack for getting in trouble. He looked much worse for the wear since the last time she had seen him. The bruising could not be explained by her slap the other day and she wondered what could possibly have caused it. She raised an eyebrow at him as he sat down, while also moving her own wine closer to herself. While she didn’t think it likely that he’d do something so stupid at an event like this, certainly not with Vangelis watching, she didn’t want a repeat of that encounter, especially not with the rumors that seemed to be swirling. Imeeya wanted to ask about the injuries, but instead, he had asked her a question about her dinner companion. Yes, that would be a more appropriate conversation, especially in front of this woman she didn’t know. Perhaps she’d have a chance to ask about the injuries later.
It had seemed Imeeya paused too long in considering Silanos’s current state, as Iolanthe jumped in with the introductions before Imeeya had had the chance to answer Sil. Imeeya turned to Iolanthe to answer her question. “Yes, I only just recently returned to Colchis from Taengea. I have to admit, the visit was a very exciting one. Though I am glad to have finally returned home. I hope that perhaps things might be more relaxing here.” Imeeya only alluded to what had happened in Taengea, waiting for some further questions so that she could elucidate what had happened during her visit there. Of course, there were things that she couldn’t speak of, such as their rescue of the king and queen of Taengea from their captivity or the birth of the new princess. And then there were the things that she didn’t wish to speak of, such as the brewing war with Egypt, which she hoped she might avoid having to think about as much as possible.
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Luckily Imeeya hadn’t had to wait long before she was joined by a young woman, who she was sure that she hadn’t met before. The name given was not noble, which would explain her introducing herself, even if she had been hesitant to do so. Not that Imeeya had any ground on which to disdain someone for making their own introduction. There was something about that confidence that made her smile a bit at this woman who had decided to approach her. As Imeeya introduced herself, she hoped that this woman hadn’t heard the rumors that seemed to be spreading around the gathering. “I’m Lady Imeeya of Drakos. It’s a pleasure meeting you as well.” She gave a nod towards the woman, and took a sip of her own wine, trying to give herself a moment to choose a topic of conversation that might interest a person of her station.
Before she had had a chance to talk further with this woman, they were joined by Iolanthe of Valaoritis and unfortunately, her cousin Silanos. Imeeya’s encounter with the man only a few days prior had not ended well for her, as he had, supposedly by accident, drugged her wine. Imeeya couldn’t believe his boldness in sitting so close to her. While she hadn’t dared to spread the rumors of what had happened that night for fear of it reflecting badly on her, he had no way to know that she hadn’t already reported it. The man seemed to have a knack for getting in trouble. He looked much worse for the wear since the last time she had seen him. The bruising could not be explained by her slap the other day and she wondered what could possibly have caused it. She raised an eyebrow at him as he sat down, while also moving her own wine closer to herself. While she didn’t think it likely that he’d do something so stupid at an event like this, certainly not with Vangelis watching, she didn’t want a repeat of that encounter, especially not with the rumors that seemed to be swirling. Imeeya wanted to ask about the injuries, but instead, he had asked her a question about her dinner companion. Yes, that would be a more appropriate conversation, especially in front of this woman she didn’t know. Perhaps she’d have a chance to ask about the injuries later.
It had seemed Imeeya paused too long in considering Silanos’s current state, as Iolanthe jumped in with the introductions before Imeeya had had the chance to answer Sil. Imeeya turned to Iolanthe to answer her question. “Yes, I only just recently returned to Colchis from Taengea. I have to admit, the visit was a very exciting one. Though I am glad to have finally returned home. I hope that perhaps things might be more relaxing here.” Imeeya only alluded to what had happened in Taengea, waiting for some further questions so that she could elucidate what had happened during her visit there. Of course, there were things that she couldn’t speak of, such as their rescue of the king and queen of Taengea from their captivity or the birth of the new princess. And then there were the things that she didn’t wish to speak of, such as the brewing war with Egypt, which she hoped she might avoid having to think about as much as possible.
Luckily Imeeya hadn’t had to wait long before she was joined by a young woman, who she was sure that she hadn’t met before. The name given was not noble, which would explain her introducing herself, even if she had been hesitant to do so. Not that Imeeya had any ground on which to disdain someone for making their own introduction. There was something about that confidence that made her smile a bit at this woman who had decided to approach her. As Imeeya introduced herself, she hoped that this woman hadn’t heard the rumors that seemed to be spreading around the gathering. “I’m Lady Imeeya of Drakos. It’s a pleasure meeting you as well.” She gave a nod towards the woman, and took a sip of her own wine, trying to give herself a moment to choose a topic of conversation that might interest a person of her station.
Before she had had a chance to talk further with this woman, they were joined by Iolanthe of Valaoritis and unfortunately, her cousin Silanos. Imeeya’s encounter with the man only a few days prior had not ended well for her, as he had, supposedly by accident, drugged her wine. Imeeya couldn’t believe his boldness in sitting so close to her. While she hadn’t dared to spread the rumors of what had happened that night for fear of it reflecting badly on her, he had no way to know that she hadn’t already reported it. The man seemed to have a knack for getting in trouble. He looked much worse for the wear since the last time she had seen him. The bruising could not be explained by her slap the other day and she wondered what could possibly have caused it. She raised an eyebrow at him as he sat down, while also moving her own wine closer to herself. While she didn’t think it likely that he’d do something so stupid at an event like this, certainly not with Vangelis watching, she didn’t want a repeat of that encounter, especially not with the rumors that seemed to be swirling. Imeeya wanted to ask about the injuries, but instead, he had asked her a question about her dinner companion. Yes, that would be a more appropriate conversation, especially in front of this woman she didn’t know. Perhaps she’d have a chance to ask about the injuries later.
It had seemed Imeeya paused too long in considering Silanos’s current state, as Iolanthe jumped in with the introductions before Imeeya had had the chance to answer Sil. Imeeya turned to Iolanthe to answer her question. “Yes, I only just recently returned to Colchis from Taengea. I have to admit, the visit was a very exciting one. Though I am glad to have finally returned home. I hope that perhaps things might be more relaxing here.” Imeeya only alluded to what had happened in Taengea, waiting for some further questions so that she could elucidate what had happened during her visit there. Of course, there were things that she couldn’t speak of, such as their rescue of the king and queen of Taengea from their captivity or the birth of the new princess. And then there were the things that she didn’t wish to speak of, such as the brewing war with Egypt, which she hoped she might avoid having to think about as much as possible.
All at once, Leto wished she had found some way to remain across the room, side-by-side with Maleos' familiar face to keep her company. Instead, she felt as though the floor were whisked from under her feet and that she balanced like an acrobat from lands afar upon a rope.
Across from her sat the Lady Imeeya, whose name sparked some sort of familiarity through her brother's guidance. House Drakos...they were of relation to the Kotas in some manner? Either way, as Leto found herself in the midst of trying to find some sort of conversation she could feign confidence through, she glanced up to see Lady Iolanthe approaching....with Silanos on her arm.
Like a doe in a field, Leto sat perfectly still and a touch too rigid for a few prolonged seconds at her eyes were trained on their approach. Silanos knew Iolanthe, and in such a familiar fashion? Their conversation seemed to indicate as much, as well as Silanos pulling out a chair for Iolanthe.
Their time on the beach was brief. Their paths had crossed since then, though well out of sight of such proper company. In fact, there was no logical way for them to have known each other up through this point in time, and her mind raced to cover any trace of familiarity, like sweeping away footprints in the snow.
Leto could not help but let her eyes linger on the marks across his face. Had he been beaten? In a fight? There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, but she was too busy attempting to keep her enflamed nerves collected to even begin. Perhaps...there would be time later in the evening to interrogate him.
For now, though, as he indicated with his question, they were total strangers.
Taking an inhale as if being given a breath of life when the Baroness mentioned her name, Leto readjusted her facial expression in a few swift blinks from relatively blank and staring to pleasant and demure, at least as well as she could manage given her heart attempting to escape her chest.
Cousins?
The realization hit like a splash of cold water down her back. Part of her glance back and forth between them almost seemed to question, why hadn't he told her? Only, that thought was ridiculous because there was no way of knowing. Or at least, she told herself that. If she had only taken the time to examine the family trees of Colchis, like Magnus suggested, she perhaps could have pieced it together. For now, though, she tried to get her mind to work again without diving headlong into embarrassment.
Clearing her throat slightly, she dipped her head in an appropriate manner as she sat, eyes lighting back up to him. Her voice was steadfast but her expression was tenuous as she greeted him, "My Lord, Silanos, it is a pleasure."
Leto immediately swallowed a moment, hoping that greeting was sufficient. She worried that too many more words from her lips would risk condemnation. Instead, she busied herself with taking another measured sip from her chalice as Lady Imeeya and Lady Iolanthe started a conversation about Taengea.
Taking the opportunity of their preoccupation, Leto lifted her eyebrows at him slightly from over the rim of her glass as if to ask several different questions, but at least limiting these to, 'What happened to your face? Are you alright?'
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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All at once, Leto wished she had found some way to remain across the room, side-by-side with Maleos' familiar face to keep her company. Instead, she felt as though the floor were whisked from under her feet and that she balanced like an acrobat from lands afar upon a rope.
Across from her sat the Lady Imeeya, whose name sparked some sort of familiarity through her brother's guidance. House Drakos...they were of relation to the Kotas in some manner? Either way, as Leto found herself in the midst of trying to find some sort of conversation she could feign confidence through, she glanced up to see Lady Iolanthe approaching....with Silanos on her arm.
Like a doe in a field, Leto sat perfectly still and a touch too rigid for a few prolonged seconds at her eyes were trained on their approach. Silanos knew Iolanthe, and in such a familiar fashion? Their conversation seemed to indicate as much, as well as Silanos pulling out a chair for Iolanthe.
Their time on the beach was brief. Their paths had crossed since then, though well out of sight of such proper company. In fact, there was no logical way for them to have known each other up through this point in time, and her mind raced to cover any trace of familiarity, like sweeping away footprints in the snow.
Leto could not help but let her eyes linger on the marks across his face. Had he been beaten? In a fight? There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, but she was too busy attempting to keep her enflamed nerves collected to even begin. Perhaps...there would be time later in the evening to interrogate him.
For now, though, as he indicated with his question, they were total strangers.
Taking an inhale as if being given a breath of life when the Baroness mentioned her name, Leto readjusted her facial expression in a few swift blinks from relatively blank and staring to pleasant and demure, at least as well as she could manage given her heart attempting to escape her chest.
Cousins?
The realization hit like a splash of cold water down her back. Part of her glance back and forth between them almost seemed to question, why hadn't he told her? Only, that thought was ridiculous because there was no way of knowing. Or at least, she told herself that. If she had only taken the time to examine the family trees of Colchis, like Magnus suggested, she perhaps could have pieced it together. For now, though, she tried to get her mind to work again without diving headlong into embarrassment.
Clearing her throat slightly, she dipped her head in an appropriate manner as she sat, eyes lighting back up to him. Her voice was steadfast but her expression was tenuous as she greeted him, "My Lord, Silanos, it is a pleasure."
Leto immediately swallowed a moment, hoping that greeting was sufficient. She worried that too many more words from her lips would risk condemnation. Instead, she busied herself with taking another measured sip from her chalice as Lady Imeeya and Lady Iolanthe started a conversation about Taengea.
Taking the opportunity of their preoccupation, Leto lifted her eyebrows at him slightly from over the rim of her glass as if to ask several different questions, but at least limiting these to, 'What happened to your face? Are you alright?'
All at once, Leto wished she had found some way to remain across the room, side-by-side with Maleos' familiar face to keep her company. Instead, she felt as though the floor were whisked from under her feet and that she balanced like an acrobat from lands afar upon a rope.
Across from her sat the Lady Imeeya, whose name sparked some sort of familiarity through her brother's guidance. House Drakos...they were of relation to the Kotas in some manner? Either way, as Leto found herself in the midst of trying to find some sort of conversation she could feign confidence through, she glanced up to see Lady Iolanthe approaching....with Silanos on her arm.
Like a doe in a field, Leto sat perfectly still and a touch too rigid for a few prolonged seconds at her eyes were trained on their approach. Silanos knew Iolanthe, and in such a familiar fashion? Their conversation seemed to indicate as much, as well as Silanos pulling out a chair for Iolanthe.
Their time on the beach was brief. Their paths had crossed since then, though well out of sight of such proper company. In fact, there was no logical way for them to have known each other up through this point in time, and her mind raced to cover any trace of familiarity, like sweeping away footprints in the snow.
Leto could not help but let her eyes linger on the marks across his face. Had he been beaten? In a fight? There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, but she was too busy attempting to keep her enflamed nerves collected to even begin. Perhaps...there would be time later in the evening to interrogate him.
For now, though, as he indicated with his question, they were total strangers.
Taking an inhale as if being given a breath of life when the Baroness mentioned her name, Leto readjusted her facial expression in a few swift blinks from relatively blank and staring to pleasant and demure, at least as well as she could manage given her heart attempting to escape her chest.
Cousins?
The realization hit like a splash of cold water down her back. Part of her glance back and forth between them almost seemed to question, why hadn't he told her? Only, that thought was ridiculous because there was no way of knowing. Or at least, she told herself that. If she had only taken the time to examine the family trees of Colchis, like Magnus suggested, she perhaps could have pieced it together. For now, though, she tried to get her mind to work again without diving headlong into embarrassment.
Clearing her throat slightly, she dipped her head in an appropriate manner as she sat, eyes lighting back up to him. Her voice was steadfast but her expression was tenuous as she greeted him, "My Lord, Silanos, it is a pleasure."
Leto immediately swallowed a moment, hoping that greeting was sufficient. She worried that too many more words from her lips would risk condemnation. Instead, she busied herself with taking another measured sip from her chalice as Lady Imeeya and Lady Iolanthe started a conversation about Taengea.
Taking the opportunity of their preoccupation, Leto lifted her eyebrows at him slightly from over the rim of her glass as if to ask several different questions, but at least limiting these to, 'What happened to your face? Are you alright?'
The last week or so had been entirely bizarre, if looked at from the perspective of Vangelis as a younger man. He wasn't some prince who had shirked his duties or an heir that had never wanted to inherit a crown and throne. He had always made it very clear to himself and to others that his duty was his life. And his duty was to be crown prince and then king. In some ways, he had been looking forward to becoming the reigning monarch. Whilst there was a certain edge of uncertainty and even fearfulness on whether or not he would be able to perform the role to the effectiveness of his father, it had been hard exceeded by his desire to attain the opportunity to try.
Yet, since he had been told of his father's death and the crown had actually fallen to him, it had been like a whirlwind of uncertainty and fear in which he hadn't felt himself ready. He could only suppose that all the years of knowing such an eventuality to be inevitable had mis-prepared him for what it would feel like when the statuses were changed and it actually happened.
Now, however, his thoughts had begun clearing. It had taken him about a week, but he had found his semblance of balance once more. Whether that was due to his moment of quiet with Selene in the stables, his moment of not so quiet with Thea in his study, or the conversation he had had with his brother regarding his marital status, he wasn't sure. For all he knew, it could simply be a case of time; the days ticking by and his responsibilities changing and becoming, if not habit, at least familiar. Regardless of the motivations or causes, the fact of the matter was that now Vangelis stood before his seat in the centre of the royal table, whilst his brother took the smaller throne that he himself had often left empty while at war or graced when home. And it was a position in which he stood with at least half the confidence and all of the stoicism that he had previously held as crown prince. His face gave nothing away, and his frame looked as immovable as granite.
The Stone Prince had become The Stone King.
As everyone had taken their seats, Vangelis had stood up from his. He had taken the hand of his mother to guide her into her own seat and then looked to check that the rest of his family were in their places. When everyone had sat down and the chatter of casual discourse had petered out into quiet, Vangelis took a few moments to set his gaze strafing across the faces of those who now looked to him as their ultimate ruler. Every single one he knew in the sense that they were familiar. Most he knew the names that accompanied them. For those he didn't, he made a note to ask his brother or the Queen Mother, so that he could become better acquainted with them. He suspected that he would be spending a lot more time in Midas now that he was ruler, and would need to know who everyone was at the very least.
"I offer you my family's and my welcome and greetings." He stated, as a means of beginning. Simple and concise. He hadn't exactly prepared a speech for the occasion because he had always worked better when driven by instinct. Whenever he had been given pre-prepared notes as a teenager to give at ceremonies he had stumbled, his desire to match the written word perfectly causing him to pause and hesitate when unsure. Better to rely on the basic gist he had already planned in his mind. "Whilst our kingdom is, in differing measures, grieving the loss of the late King - an honourable and courageous leader of our people - it is the Colchian way to remember that life goes on. We are not the largest of nations, nor the greatest in number. But we are the most enduring. It is our ethos and belief that trauma and trial are only ever opportunities to emerge stronger for the experience." He paused, his jaw popping slightly as he gritted his teeth for a moment. "It is my belief that my late father would appreciate any opportunity that his passing has given us to strengthen Colchis."
At this point, Vangelis was tempted to look to his mother, unsure how she would feel about such sentiment. But he was wise enough not to look as if he needed approval from his mother mid-way through a speech. Unbeknownst to him, his mother was smiling softly to herself, clearly of like mind to her eldest child.
Vangelis' gaze, instead, journeyed a little to the Thanasi clan, for his next words would be applicable to them.
"I have assigned the responsibility of investigating my father's death to my brother." He began, explaining the empty seat at the table to any who would recognise the missing prince. "He and several loyalists to the crown-" Vangelis glanced towards Timaeus of Valaoritis. For, Zanon had told him of his unflinching service since the discovery of the king's ship. At least in such matters he could be assured of the man's devotion. "-shall begin their investigations in the Northern Lands. Evidence has been found to prove the guilty parties exist outside of Colchis..." He glanced at the Thanasi's once more, trying not to catch Thea's eye and failing. But he looked away again without expression. "...not within."
Vangelis paused to let that information sink in for the highest levels of Colchian society. There had been a lot of rumour and accusation delivered to the Thanasi family thanks to his father’s ship being found off of the coast of one of their provinces. But their involvement was entirely untrue, the location of the ship mere coincidence from the strait’s tides. And while Vangelis held no great love for the Thanasi family, he was also not a man to manipulate and lie to see his enemies fall. The Thanasi were not to blame. And he was determined to make that clear.
"I have much to discuss with all of you over the next few weeks..." He assured the group, his tone lightening as the topic moved from tragic past to hopeful future. His vision swept across the room, pausing on those he knew and intended to set up meetings with over the coming days, either to confirm loyalties or to establish dominance. His eyes were cold as they landed on the younger brother of the Valaoritis household. "And shall be making it my focus to remove weaknesses and strengthen the foundations of our kingdom. So that we might honour King Tython's memory, as the strong nation that we are."
Really wanting to sit down now and fully aware that this was probably the most that anyone in the room - barring certain close exceptions - had ever heard pass his lips - Vangelis raised a hand and indicated for the servants to move forward with dishes of food.
"In the meantime, for tonight, enjoy the hospitality of the Kotas House and make merry in the memory of our King." And with that he sat down, thoroughly thankful to be out of the spotlight as several nobles’ attentions drifted, allured by the smell of roasted meats and vegetables as repast was provided.
In Colchian style, the food was served in large vessels that occupied the centres of each long table, dishes of certain foods repeated along the length of the wooden surface so that all could reach whatever delicacy they wished. Empty plates were then set before each diner, with utensils to select what they wished from the offerings. The only table to dine differently was the head, royal table. As members of the royal family, their food was already prepared upon plates and served before each seated occupant ready to be consumed.
As the servants busied about their tasks, ensuring that all were provided with what they desired and then falling back to hover with jugs of wine and water to replenish where ordered, Vangelis felt his lungs exhale as he turned to glance at his mother and then his brother Zanon. To those who watched it would appear he was in conversation. But what was actually occurring was a rare moment of insecurity, as Vangelis hoped he had shamed neither them, nor the man who had worn the crown before him.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The last week or so had been entirely bizarre, if looked at from the perspective of Vangelis as a younger man. He wasn't some prince who had shirked his duties or an heir that had never wanted to inherit a crown and throne. He had always made it very clear to himself and to others that his duty was his life. And his duty was to be crown prince and then king. In some ways, he had been looking forward to becoming the reigning monarch. Whilst there was a certain edge of uncertainty and even fearfulness on whether or not he would be able to perform the role to the effectiveness of his father, it had been hard exceeded by his desire to attain the opportunity to try.
Yet, since he had been told of his father's death and the crown had actually fallen to him, it had been like a whirlwind of uncertainty and fear in which he hadn't felt himself ready. He could only suppose that all the years of knowing such an eventuality to be inevitable had mis-prepared him for what it would feel like when the statuses were changed and it actually happened.
Now, however, his thoughts had begun clearing. It had taken him about a week, but he had found his semblance of balance once more. Whether that was due to his moment of quiet with Selene in the stables, his moment of not so quiet with Thea in his study, or the conversation he had had with his brother regarding his marital status, he wasn't sure. For all he knew, it could simply be a case of time; the days ticking by and his responsibilities changing and becoming, if not habit, at least familiar. Regardless of the motivations or causes, the fact of the matter was that now Vangelis stood before his seat in the centre of the royal table, whilst his brother took the smaller throne that he himself had often left empty while at war or graced when home. And it was a position in which he stood with at least half the confidence and all of the stoicism that he had previously held as crown prince. His face gave nothing away, and his frame looked as immovable as granite.
The Stone Prince had become The Stone King.
As everyone had taken their seats, Vangelis had stood up from his. He had taken the hand of his mother to guide her into her own seat and then looked to check that the rest of his family were in their places. When everyone had sat down and the chatter of casual discourse had petered out into quiet, Vangelis took a few moments to set his gaze strafing across the faces of those who now looked to him as their ultimate ruler. Every single one he knew in the sense that they were familiar. Most he knew the names that accompanied them. For those he didn't, he made a note to ask his brother or the Queen Mother, so that he could become better acquainted with them. He suspected that he would be spending a lot more time in Midas now that he was ruler, and would need to know who everyone was at the very least.
"I offer you my family's and my welcome and greetings." He stated, as a means of beginning. Simple and concise. He hadn't exactly prepared a speech for the occasion because he had always worked better when driven by instinct. Whenever he had been given pre-prepared notes as a teenager to give at ceremonies he had stumbled, his desire to match the written word perfectly causing him to pause and hesitate when unsure. Better to rely on the basic gist he had already planned in his mind. "Whilst our kingdom is, in differing measures, grieving the loss of the late King - an honourable and courageous leader of our people - it is the Colchian way to remember that life goes on. We are not the largest of nations, nor the greatest in number. But we are the most enduring. It is our ethos and belief that trauma and trial are only ever opportunities to emerge stronger for the experience." He paused, his jaw popping slightly as he gritted his teeth for a moment. "It is my belief that my late father would appreciate any opportunity that his passing has given us to strengthen Colchis."
At this point, Vangelis was tempted to look to his mother, unsure how she would feel about such sentiment. But he was wise enough not to look as if he needed approval from his mother mid-way through a speech. Unbeknownst to him, his mother was smiling softly to herself, clearly of like mind to her eldest child.
Vangelis' gaze, instead, journeyed a little to the Thanasi clan, for his next words would be applicable to them.
"I have assigned the responsibility of investigating my father's death to my brother." He began, explaining the empty seat at the table to any who would recognise the missing prince. "He and several loyalists to the crown-" Vangelis glanced towards Timaeus of Valaoritis. For, Zanon had told him of his unflinching service since the discovery of the king's ship. At least in such matters he could be assured of the man's devotion. "-shall begin their investigations in the Northern Lands. Evidence has been found to prove the guilty parties exist outside of Colchis..." He glanced at the Thanasi's once more, trying not to catch Thea's eye and failing. But he looked away again without expression. "...not within."
Vangelis paused to let that information sink in for the highest levels of Colchian society. There had been a lot of rumour and accusation delivered to the Thanasi family thanks to his father’s ship being found off of the coast of one of their provinces. But their involvement was entirely untrue, the location of the ship mere coincidence from the strait’s tides. And while Vangelis held no great love for the Thanasi family, he was also not a man to manipulate and lie to see his enemies fall. The Thanasi were not to blame. And he was determined to make that clear.
"I have much to discuss with all of you over the next few weeks..." He assured the group, his tone lightening as the topic moved from tragic past to hopeful future. His vision swept across the room, pausing on those he knew and intended to set up meetings with over the coming days, either to confirm loyalties or to establish dominance. His eyes were cold as they landed on the younger brother of the Valaoritis household. "And shall be making it my focus to remove weaknesses and strengthen the foundations of our kingdom. So that we might honour King Tython's memory, as the strong nation that we are."
Really wanting to sit down now and fully aware that this was probably the most that anyone in the room - barring certain close exceptions - had ever heard pass his lips - Vangelis raised a hand and indicated for the servants to move forward with dishes of food.
"In the meantime, for tonight, enjoy the hospitality of the Kotas House and make merry in the memory of our King." And with that he sat down, thoroughly thankful to be out of the spotlight as several nobles’ attentions drifted, allured by the smell of roasted meats and vegetables as repast was provided.
In Colchian style, the food was served in large vessels that occupied the centres of each long table, dishes of certain foods repeated along the length of the wooden surface so that all could reach whatever delicacy they wished. Empty plates were then set before each diner, with utensils to select what they wished from the offerings. The only table to dine differently was the head, royal table. As members of the royal family, their food was already prepared upon plates and served before each seated occupant ready to be consumed.
As the servants busied about their tasks, ensuring that all were provided with what they desired and then falling back to hover with jugs of wine and water to replenish where ordered, Vangelis felt his lungs exhale as he turned to glance at his mother and then his brother Zanon. To those who watched it would appear he was in conversation. But what was actually occurring was a rare moment of insecurity, as Vangelis hoped he had shamed neither them, nor the man who had worn the crown before him.
The last week or so had been entirely bizarre, if looked at from the perspective of Vangelis as a younger man. He wasn't some prince who had shirked his duties or an heir that had never wanted to inherit a crown and throne. He had always made it very clear to himself and to others that his duty was his life. And his duty was to be crown prince and then king. In some ways, he had been looking forward to becoming the reigning monarch. Whilst there was a certain edge of uncertainty and even fearfulness on whether or not he would be able to perform the role to the effectiveness of his father, it had been hard exceeded by his desire to attain the opportunity to try.
Yet, since he had been told of his father's death and the crown had actually fallen to him, it had been like a whirlwind of uncertainty and fear in which he hadn't felt himself ready. He could only suppose that all the years of knowing such an eventuality to be inevitable had mis-prepared him for what it would feel like when the statuses were changed and it actually happened.
Now, however, his thoughts had begun clearing. It had taken him about a week, but he had found his semblance of balance once more. Whether that was due to his moment of quiet with Selene in the stables, his moment of not so quiet with Thea in his study, or the conversation he had had with his brother regarding his marital status, he wasn't sure. For all he knew, it could simply be a case of time; the days ticking by and his responsibilities changing and becoming, if not habit, at least familiar. Regardless of the motivations or causes, the fact of the matter was that now Vangelis stood before his seat in the centre of the royal table, whilst his brother took the smaller throne that he himself had often left empty while at war or graced when home. And it was a position in which he stood with at least half the confidence and all of the stoicism that he had previously held as crown prince. His face gave nothing away, and his frame looked as immovable as granite.
The Stone Prince had become The Stone King.
As everyone had taken their seats, Vangelis had stood up from his. He had taken the hand of his mother to guide her into her own seat and then looked to check that the rest of his family were in their places. When everyone had sat down and the chatter of casual discourse had petered out into quiet, Vangelis took a few moments to set his gaze strafing across the faces of those who now looked to him as their ultimate ruler. Every single one he knew in the sense that they were familiar. Most he knew the names that accompanied them. For those he didn't, he made a note to ask his brother or the Queen Mother, so that he could become better acquainted with them. He suspected that he would be spending a lot more time in Midas now that he was ruler, and would need to know who everyone was at the very least.
"I offer you my family's and my welcome and greetings." He stated, as a means of beginning. Simple and concise. He hadn't exactly prepared a speech for the occasion because he had always worked better when driven by instinct. Whenever he had been given pre-prepared notes as a teenager to give at ceremonies he had stumbled, his desire to match the written word perfectly causing him to pause and hesitate when unsure. Better to rely on the basic gist he had already planned in his mind. "Whilst our kingdom is, in differing measures, grieving the loss of the late King - an honourable and courageous leader of our people - it is the Colchian way to remember that life goes on. We are not the largest of nations, nor the greatest in number. But we are the most enduring. It is our ethos and belief that trauma and trial are only ever opportunities to emerge stronger for the experience." He paused, his jaw popping slightly as he gritted his teeth for a moment. "It is my belief that my late father would appreciate any opportunity that his passing has given us to strengthen Colchis."
At this point, Vangelis was tempted to look to his mother, unsure how she would feel about such sentiment. But he was wise enough not to look as if he needed approval from his mother mid-way through a speech. Unbeknownst to him, his mother was smiling softly to herself, clearly of like mind to her eldest child.
Vangelis' gaze, instead, journeyed a little to the Thanasi clan, for his next words would be applicable to them.
"I have assigned the responsibility of investigating my father's death to my brother." He began, explaining the empty seat at the table to any who would recognise the missing prince. "He and several loyalists to the crown-" Vangelis glanced towards Timaeus of Valaoritis. For, Zanon had told him of his unflinching service since the discovery of the king's ship. At least in such matters he could be assured of the man's devotion. "-shall begin their investigations in the Northern Lands. Evidence has been found to prove the guilty parties exist outside of Colchis..." He glanced at the Thanasi's once more, trying not to catch Thea's eye and failing. But he looked away again without expression. "...not within."
Vangelis paused to let that information sink in for the highest levels of Colchian society. There had been a lot of rumour and accusation delivered to the Thanasi family thanks to his father’s ship being found off of the coast of one of their provinces. But their involvement was entirely untrue, the location of the ship mere coincidence from the strait’s tides. And while Vangelis held no great love for the Thanasi family, he was also not a man to manipulate and lie to see his enemies fall. The Thanasi were not to blame. And he was determined to make that clear.
"I have much to discuss with all of you over the next few weeks..." He assured the group, his tone lightening as the topic moved from tragic past to hopeful future. His vision swept across the room, pausing on those he knew and intended to set up meetings with over the coming days, either to confirm loyalties or to establish dominance. His eyes were cold as they landed on the younger brother of the Valaoritis household. "And shall be making it my focus to remove weaknesses and strengthen the foundations of our kingdom. So that we might honour King Tython's memory, as the strong nation that we are."
Really wanting to sit down now and fully aware that this was probably the most that anyone in the room - barring certain close exceptions - had ever heard pass his lips - Vangelis raised a hand and indicated for the servants to move forward with dishes of food.
"In the meantime, for tonight, enjoy the hospitality of the Kotas House and make merry in the memory of our King." And with that he sat down, thoroughly thankful to be out of the spotlight as several nobles’ attentions drifted, allured by the smell of roasted meats and vegetables as repast was provided.
In Colchian style, the food was served in large vessels that occupied the centres of each long table, dishes of certain foods repeated along the length of the wooden surface so that all could reach whatever delicacy they wished. Empty plates were then set before each diner, with utensils to select what they wished from the offerings. The only table to dine differently was the head, royal table. As members of the royal family, their food was already prepared upon plates and served before each seated occupant ready to be consumed.
As the servants busied about their tasks, ensuring that all were provided with what they desired and then falling back to hover with jugs of wine and water to replenish where ordered, Vangelis felt his lungs exhale as he turned to glance at his mother and then his brother Zanon. To those who watched it would appear he was in conversation. But what was actually occurring was a rare moment of insecurity, as Vangelis hoped he had shamed neither them, nor the man who had worn the crown before him.
Evelli watched the play of emotions on Selene's face - obviously, her eldest was far more attached and friendly to a few Colchians then she let on, but that was a conversation she would ensure she had with Selene after all the pomp and celebration was over, and they could find some time by themselves.
Keeping a mental note in her mind, the brunette turned to Olympia, and her serene smile faltered a little at Olympia's request. It was infantile sure, but after the whole debacle her third-born had been through, Evelli was more then inclined to indulge Olympia in any foolish request she would want for now - but to do so would be a death wish, both for herself, Georgios and their whole family. So instead, Evelli merely enveloped Olympia in a tight hug, warm as she could get it before, drawing back to take a proper look at the brunette so like her own.
"I'm excited to meet your daughter then, sweet pea. I'm sure you're tired for now, so let me take care of her for the night while you two get your rest, alright?" she murmured with a smile, swapping between Olympia and Selene. She could clearly see the dark eyebags that surely came with caring for a newborn, and after five herself, Evelli knew better then anyone how exhausting it would be to be continously awake to feed a young infant.
Following Olympia's gaze, she too found the figure of Stephanos in the crowd, and the soft look faded to a harder glare of displeasure. She had handed her daughter over expecting Olympia to be treated like a queen, but his actions have costed her daughter life as she knew it.
Not wanting to cause a scene however, the woman shook her head to rid herself of the need to give Stephanos a few choice words, and instead turned back to Selene just as she mentioned the need to sit down. Just as well for the royal family of Colchis had just arrived, and it would seem the events would now kick off with dinner. She smiled at Olympia's reference for the man Evelli now saw Nana with, and sighed. "At least she chose well for once." she murmured in response, before crooking an arm for each daughter.
The three Leventi ladies were soon seated by the end of the table, as were visiting nobles were supposed to. Servants quickly served the chalices of wine (of which quality paled to the ones in Taengea, but Evelli would not complain as a guest), before all fell silent. That the King of Colchis had passed on was news to Evelli, but it would seem news was hard to pass on when one was on the sea, and exhausted from seasickness.
Sipping from the chalice as the new King addressed his people, Evelli raised a brow to hear foul play when it came to the origins of the King's death. Not within her place to comment however, the woman merely waited for the speech to end, clapping along with everyone else before food was served, and only then did Evelli lean to her daughters and asked, "Is it an inopportune time for me to be here then?" she couldn't help but ask with a curious tone in her voice. Death and visiting nobles didn't exactly go hand in hand.
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Evelli watched the play of emotions on Selene's face - obviously, her eldest was far more attached and friendly to a few Colchians then she let on, but that was a conversation she would ensure she had with Selene after all the pomp and celebration was over, and they could find some time by themselves.
Keeping a mental note in her mind, the brunette turned to Olympia, and her serene smile faltered a little at Olympia's request. It was infantile sure, but after the whole debacle her third-born had been through, Evelli was more then inclined to indulge Olympia in any foolish request she would want for now - but to do so would be a death wish, both for herself, Georgios and their whole family. So instead, Evelli merely enveloped Olympia in a tight hug, warm as she could get it before, drawing back to take a proper look at the brunette so like her own.
"I'm excited to meet your daughter then, sweet pea. I'm sure you're tired for now, so let me take care of her for the night while you two get your rest, alright?" she murmured with a smile, swapping between Olympia and Selene. She could clearly see the dark eyebags that surely came with caring for a newborn, and after five herself, Evelli knew better then anyone how exhausting it would be to be continously awake to feed a young infant.
Following Olympia's gaze, she too found the figure of Stephanos in the crowd, and the soft look faded to a harder glare of displeasure. She had handed her daughter over expecting Olympia to be treated like a queen, but his actions have costed her daughter life as she knew it.
Not wanting to cause a scene however, the woman shook her head to rid herself of the need to give Stephanos a few choice words, and instead turned back to Selene just as she mentioned the need to sit down. Just as well for the royal family of Colchis had just arrived, and it would seem the events would now kick off with dinner. She smiled at Olympia's reference for the man Evelli now saw Nana with, and sighed. "At least she chose well for once." she murmured in response, before crooking an arm for each daughter.
The three Leventi ladies were soon seated by the end of the table, as were visiting nobles were supposed to. Servants quickly served the chalices of wine (of which quality paled to the ones in Taengea, but Evelli would not complain as a guest), before all fell silent. That the King of Colchis had passed on was news to Evelli, but it would seem news was hard to pass on when one was on the sea, and exhausted from seasickness.
Sipping from the chalice as the new King addressed his people, Evelli raised a brow to hear foul play when it came to the origins of the King's death. Not within her place to comment however, the woman merely waited for the speech to end, clapping along with everyone else before food was served, and only then did Evelli lean to her daughters and asked, "Is it an inopportune time for me to be here then?" she couldn't help but ask with a curious tone in her voice. Death and visiting nobles didn't exactly go hand in hand.
Evelli watched the play of emotions on Selene's face - obviously, her eldest was far more attached and friendly to a few Colchians then she let on, but that was a conversation she would ensure she had with Selene after all the pomp and celebration was over, and they could find some time by themselves.
Keeping a mental note in her mind, the brunette turned to Olympia, and her serene smile faltered a little at Olympia's request. It was infantile sure, but after the whole debacle her third-born had been through, Evelli was more then inclined to indulge Olympia in any foolish request she would want for now - but to do so would be a death wish, both for herself, Georgios and their whole family. So instead, Evelli merely enveloped Olympia in a tight hug, warm as she could get it before, drawing back to take a proper look at the brunette so like her own.
"I'm excited to meet your daughter then, sweet pea. I'm sure you're tired for now, so let me take care of her for the night while you two get your rest, alright?" she murmured with a smile, swapping between Olympia and Selene. She could clearly see the dark eyebags that surely came with caring for a newborn, and after five herself, Evelli knew better then anyone how exhausting it would be to be continously awake to feed a young infant.
Following Olympia's gaze, she too found the figure of Stephanos in the crowd, and the soft look faded to a harder glare of displeasure. She had handed her daughter over expecting Olympia to be treated like a queen, but his actions have costed her daughter life as she knew it.
Not wanting to cause a scene however, the woman shook her head to rid herself of the need to give Stephanos a few choice words, and instead turned back to Selene just as she mentioned the need to sit down. Just as well for the royal family of Colchis had just arrived, and it would seem the events would now kick off with dinner. She smiled at Olympia's reference for the man Evelli now saw Nana with, and sighed. "At least she chose well for once." she murmured in response, before crooking an arm for each daughter.
The three Leventi ladies were soon seated by the end of the table, as were visiting nobles were supposed to. Servants quickly served the chalices of wine (of which quality paled to the ones in Taengea, but Evelli would not complain as a guest), before all fell silent. That the King of Colchis had passed on was news to Evelli, but it would seem news was hard to pass on when one was on the sea, and exhausted from seasickness.
Sipping from the chalice as the new King addressed his people, Evelli raised a brow to hear foul play when it came to the origins of the King's death. Not within her place to comment however, the woman merely waited for the speech to end, clapping along with everyone else before food was served, and only then did Evelli lean to her daughters and asked, "Is it an inopportune time for me to be here then?" she couldn't help but ask with a curious tone in her voice. Death and visiting nobles didn't exactly go hand in hand.
Silanos had dipped his head a little so it was not such a stretch for his petite cousin to press a careful kiss to his cheek. He raised a wry eyebrow at her comment regarding seeing him in proper company, for whilst it was some relief to have escaped the misery of military drills, and was a change of scenery from the inside of his own room, Silanos would have done anything to get out of attending this feast.
Not only because he had no desire to explain the state of his face - he looked like some common brawler - but because he could not, no matter how much he tried, forget Imeeya’s words of the other day. King Vangelis knew about Athanasia. King Vangelis had threatened to kill him. He had come so close to confessing all to Timaeus in his attempts to persuade him to allow him to remain at home, but his throat had closed up and he had given up arguing, leaving his brother to wonder what had resulted in such an easy win.
And now,as he took his seat next to Iolanthe, he was faced with at least one of the reasons he had not wanted to attend. It was a wary glance he spared for Imeeya, one that dropped to where she curled her hand around her wine glass and his gaze narrowed infinitesimally at her lack of greeting and that imperious arch of her brow, before he turned instead with a smile for Leto. Sil played along with the notion that they had not met before, that she had not lain beside him a night, had not climbed through his window and even managed to keep a straight face at her obvious discomfort. “I am quite sure the pleasure is mine” he replied, the tiniest spark of amusement lighting up what had seemed the dulled blue of his eyes as he looked on the dark-haired girl.
It was a momentary bright spot, for as Iolanthe struck up conversation with Imeeya, Silanos watched as Leto’s face contorted into some truly strange expressions and it was almost enough to coax a genuine smile to his face. Would have done if her attempts were not concerned with the marks on his face that he had seen Imeeya eyeing too, and were nothing if not an unpleasant reminded of his current straits, and how they were only about to get worse. The glimmer of amusement melted away and Sil gave the tiniest shake of his head: a dismissal, a ‘don’t ask’.
His gaze slid away a second then, towards where Iolanthe and Imeeya talked, and Sil wondered if he ought to be even more worried, if the blonde Drakos had kept silent about the poppy wine or if he should be expecting that little shit storm to blow up in his face at any moment. The young lord shifted in his seat, wished his own cup was filled with wine instead of the water that offered him nothing, no escape. Returning his attention to Leto, he offered what would have been considered a polite enquiry towards one he had just met.
“How do you find Midas, Lady Leto? Have you been in the city for long?”
She had barely answered when a hush fell over the chamber, and Silanos reluctantly looked away from her toward the top table, where the towering figure of their new King stood to address the courtiers of his Kingdom. Such quiet awaited his words, the younger Valaoritis felt his tension ratchet up another notch just at the expectant air that settled. And then Vangelis was speaking, and Sil listened along with all of the rest of the gathered nobles, only darting a glance at his brother when the King appeared to look his way, but Timaeus was not looking back. He wondered idly how his brother would accept the King’s words that the Thanasi were not involved, for they seemed to get under Tim’s skin so easily, but he refocused, not wanting to risk appearing as if he were not paying attention to the new King’s address. He might have rather been accused of such a thing in the next moment though, for Sil had not wanted the man’s eyes to find him, and he barely resisted the urge to sink into his seat when a cold, flintlike gaze met his own.
Silanos did not want to have any discussions with the new monarch, and certainly did not want to consider what ‘removing weaknesses’ might allude to. He felt as though he wore his guilt as clearly as the bruises that marred his face, only realising he had forgotten to breathe when Vangelis looked away. Oh fuck. He shot a panicked look toward his brother before giving in and reaching for the wine he had so dutifully avoided so far. If he was going to die anyway..The macabre thought brought him little comfort though, and the wine tasted bitter. He just wanted to go.
Unsurprising then, that Sil found himself with little appetite for the dishes that were set out before them, taking a little for show but then pushing it around his plate disconsolately. His gaze strayed almost against his will toward the Princess Athanasia as he wondered if there were any way he could divert the course of disaster that seemed set before him. If he just spoke to her, maybe? Apologised? Imeeya had said that the young lady had put him from her mind entirely, but it could not hurt surely? And then he was back to wandering if Imeeya herself had added to the King’s list of dissatisfactions with him and he set his fork down with a clatter. He needed to know “Have you managed to speak with your cousin, Lady Imeeya? Since your return to Colchis? It must have been a trying time for the family” He tried to wrap his question in a sympathetic enquiry, but his gaze was fierce upon Imeeya. She would know what he was actually asking, he hoped.
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Silanos had dipped his head a little so it was not such a stretch for his petite cousin to press a careful kiss to his cheek. He raised a wry eyebrow at her comment regarding seeing him in proper company, for whilst it was some relief to have escaped the misery of military drills, and was a change of scenery from the inside of his own room, Silanos would have done anything to get out of attending this feast.
Not only because he had no desire to explain the state of his face - he looked like some common brawler - but because he could not, no matter how much he tried, forget Imeeya’s words of the other day. King Vangelis knew about Athanasia. King Vangelis had threatened to kill him. He had come so close to confessing all to Timaeus in his attempts to persuade him to allow him to remain at home, but his throat had closed up and he had given up arguing, leaving his brother to wonder what had resulted in such an easy win.
And now,as he took his seat next to Iolanthe, he was faced with at least one of the reasons he had not wanted to attend. It was a wary glance he spared for Imeeya, one that dropped to where she curled her hand around her wine glass and his gaze narrowed infinitesimally at her lack of greeting and that imperious arch of her brow, before he turned instead with a smile for Leto. Sil played along with the notion that they had not met before, that she had not lain beside him a night, had not climbed through his window and even managed to keep a straight face at her obvious discomfort. “I am quite sure the pleasure is mine” he replied, the tiniest spark of amusement lighting up what had seemed the dulled blue of his eyes as he looked on the dark-haired girl.
It was a momentary bright spot, for as Iolanthe struck up conversation with Imeeya, Silanos watched as Leto’s face contorted into some truly strange expressions and it was almost enough to coax a genuine smile to his face. Would have done if her attempts were not concerned with the marks on his face that he had seen Imeeya eyeing too, and were nothing if not an unpleasant reminded of his current straits, and how they were only about to get worse. The glimmer of amusement melted away and Sil gave the tiniest shake of his head: a dismissal, a ‘don’t ask’.
His gaze slid away a second then, towards where Iolanthe and Imeeya talked, and Sil wondered if he ought to be even more worried, if the blonde Drakos had kept silent about the poppy wine or if he should be expecting that little shit storm to blow up in his face at any moment. The young lord shifted in his seat, wished his own cup was filled with wine instead of the water that offered him nothing, no escape. Returning his attention to Leto, he offered what would have been considered a polite enquiry towards one he had just met.
“How do you find Midas, Lady Leto? Have you been in the city for long?”
She had barely answered when a hush fell over the chamber, and Silanos reluctantly looked away from her toward the top table, where the towering figure of their new King stood to address the courtiers of his Kingdom. Such quiet awaited his words, the younger Valaoritis felt his tension ratchet up another notch just at the expectant air that settled. And then Vangelis was speaking, and Sil listened along with all of the rest of the gathered nobles, only darting a glance at his brother when the King appeared to look his way, but Timaeus was not looking back. He wondered idly how his brother would accept the King’s words that the Thanasi were not involved, for they seemed to get under Tim’s skin so easily, but he refocused, not wanting to risk appearing as if he were not paying attention to the new King’s address. He might have rather been accused of such a thing in the next moment though, for Sil had not wanted the man’s eyes to find him, and he barely resisted the urge to sink into his seat when a cold, flintlike gaze met his own.
Silanos did not want to have any discussions with the new monarch, and certainly did not want to consider what ‘removing weaknesses’ might allude to. He felt as though he wore his guilt as clearly as the bruises that marred his face, only realising he had forgotten to breathe when Vangelis looked away. Oh fuck. He shot a panicked look toward his brother before giving in and reaching for the wine he had so dutifully avoided so far. If he was going to die anyway..The macabre thought brought him little comfort though, and the wine tasted bitter. He just wanted to go.
Unsurprising then, that Sil found himself with little appetite for the dishes that were set out before them, taking a little for show but then pushing it around his plate disconsolately. His gaze strayed almost against his will toward the Princess Athanasia as he wondered if there were any way he could divert the course of disaster that seemed set before him. If he just spoke to her, maybe? Apologised? Imeeya had said that the young lady had put him from her mind entirely, but it could not hurt surely? And then he was back to wandering if Imeeya herself had added to the King’s list of dissatisfactions with him and he set his fork down with a clatter. He needed to know “Have you managed to speak with your cousin, Lady Imeeya? Since your return to Colchis? It must have been a trying time for the family” He tried to wrap his question in a sympathetic enquiry, but his gaze was fierce upon Imeeya. She would know what he was actually asking, he hoped.
Silanos had dipped his head a little so it was not such a stretch for his petite cousin to press a careful kiss to his cheek. He raised a wry eyebrow at her comment regarding seeing him in proper company, for whilst it was some relief to have escaped the misery of military drills, and was a change of scenery from the inside of his own room, Silanos would have done anything to get out of attending this feast.
Not only because he had no desire to explain the state of his face - he looked like some common brawler - but because he could not, no matter how much he tried, forget Imeeya’s words of the other day. King Vangelis knew about Athanasia. King Vangelis had threatened to kill him. He had come so close to confessing all to Timaeus in his attempts to persuade him to allow him to remain at home, but his throat had closed up and he had given up arguing, leaving his brother to wonder what had resulted in such an easy win.
And now,as he took his seat next to Iolanthe, he was faced with at least one of the reasons he had not wanted to attend. It was a wary glance he spared for Imeeya, one that dropped to where she curled her hand around her wine glass and his gaze narrowed infinitesimally at her lack of greeting and that imperious arch of her brow, before he turned instead with a smile for Leto. Sil played along with the notion that they had not met before, that she had not lain beside him a night, had not climbed through his window and even managed to keep a straight face at her obvious discomfort. “I am quite sure the pleasure is mine” he replied, the tiniest spark of amusement lighting up what had seemed the dulled blue of his eyes as he looked on the dark-haired girl.
It was a momentary bright spot, for as Iolanthe struck up conversation with Imeeya, Silanos watched as Leto’s face contorted into some truly strange expressions and it was almost enough to coax a genuine smile to his face. Would have done if her attempts were not concerned with the marks on his face that he had seen Imeeya eyeing too, and were nothing if not an unpleasant reminded of his current straits, and how they were only about to get worse. The glimmer of amusement melted away and Sil gave the tiniest shake of his head: a dismissal, a ‘don’t ask’.
His gaze slid away a second then, towards where Iolanthe and Imeeya talked, and Sil wondered if he ought to be even more worried, if the blonde Drakos had kept silent about the poppy wine or if he should be expecting that little shit storm to blow up in his face at any moment. The young lord shifted in his seat, wished his own cup was filled with wine instead of the water that offered him nothing, no escape. Returning his attention to Leto, he offered what would have been considered a polite enquiry towards one he had just met.
“How do you find Midas, Lady Leto? Have you been in the city for long?”
She had barely answered when a hush fell over the chamber, and Silanos reluctantly looked away from her toward the top table, where the towering figure of their new King stood to address the courtiers of his Kingdom. Such quiet awaited his words, the younger Valaoritis felt his tension ratchet up another notch just at the expectant air that settled. And then Vangelis was speaking, and Sil listened along with all of the rest of the gathered nobles, only darting a glance at his brother when the King appeared to look his way, but Timaeus was not looking back. He wondered idly how his brother would accept the King’s words that the Thanasi were not involved, for they seemed to get under Tim’s skin so easily, but he refocused, not wanting to risk appearing as if he were not paying attention to the new King’s address. He might have rather been accused of such a thing in the next moment though, for Sil had not wanted the man’s eyes to find him, and he barely resisted the urge to sink into his seat when a cold, flintlike gaze met his own.
Silanos did not want to have any discussions with the new monarch, and certainly did not want to consider what ‘removing weaknesses’ might allude to. He felt as though he wore his guilt as clearly as the bruises that marred his face, only realising he had forgotten to breathe when Vangelis looked away. Oh fuck. He shot a panicked look toward his brother before giving in and reaching for the wine he had so dutifully avoided so far. If he was going to die anyway..The macabre thought brought him little comfort though, and the wine tasted bitter. He just wanted to go.
Unsurprising then, that Sil found himself with little appetite for the dishes that were set out before them, taking a little for show but then pushing it around his plate disconsolately. His gaze strayed almost against his will toward the Princess Athanasia as he wondered if there were any way he could divert the course of disaster that seemed set before him. If he just spoke to her, maybe? Apologised? Imeeya had said that the young lady had put him from her mind entirely, but it could not hurt surely? And then he was back to wandering if Imeeya herself had added to the King’s list of dissatisfactions with him and he set his fork down with a clatter. He needed to know “Have you managed to speak with your cousin, Lady Imeeya? Since your return to Colchis? It must have been a trying time for the family” He tried to wrap his question in a sympathetic enquiry, but his gaze was fierce upon Imeeya. She would know what he was actually asking, he hoped.
"I understand. I lost my mother at a young age, and nothing can prepare one for the crushing cavity with which such a loss leaves one." It was not entirely the truth: Mihail had spent countless hours wishing for her death beforehand, and had only felt relief once his petitions had come true. But such matters were not something to be discussed with a grieving woman, and especially not when he was so clearly attempting to enter her good graces, and he could only nod in response to her words as she appeared to open her heart to him at that moment, dark eyes flickering momentarily over to Stephanos before he spoke once more. "Still, death has a habit of bringing others together, and you are lucky in that you have the comfort of both your close and extended family by your side."
It was a mild allusion to himself, though whether or not the princess picked up on his implication, he could not tell. That friendly smile remained on his face, although his amiability was momentarily tinged with a mild coquettishness. "I would be delighted if you wished to go on any such ride. I hear your Highness is quite the proficient archer, and as I do share quite an enthusiasm for the sport myself, I am sure a hunting trip would be most enjoyable, particularly if I might be able to keep your mind off less than pleasant topics. One does not come across many ladies who are keen on those activities considered more masculine; it is quite an attractive trait."
Until now, Mihail had almost entirely ignored the other man who stood with them, and as he spoke, his gaze turned fully onto Stephanos, head tilted inquisitively to one side at the query. He had never thought much on dancing, and although he was never opposed to it when it came to a formal event, and would even have gone so far as to think himself a relatively skilled dancer, he did not usually consider it his dearest hobby. "It would depend on my partner," he answered, somewhat truthfully, once more allowing his line of sight to flash across to Athanasia, though a concern instantly passed through him that Stephanos had intended to ask if he was willing to dance with him. Typically, Mihail would not have been opposed - he did consider the Mikaelidas to be quite handsome, and just in his tastes - but it would not do to dwell on such possibilities when he had a different interest in mind. "If you might be available for a dance with another lord later this evening, I would not be opposed to the idea."
With their new king now in attendance, however, there was little time left for such frivolous conversation, and Mihail lowered his head first towards the princess and then towards the once-king in a blend of apology and farewell, offering a hand to take Athanasia's in his own and lay a gentle kiss upon it. "I apologise, I should return to my family, though I do hope for the opportunity to converse once again when our meal is concluded." He offered her a final smile, nodding towards Stephanos now in turn. "Likewise, it has been a pleasure to meet you, my Lord. I have heard so much from my sisters."
Stepping away from the two, he directed himself towards where his father had seated himself alongside the rest of his siblings, not missing the glare shot in his direction, as if he were the greatest shame in the family (although, clearly, that was a title that should be awarded to Dysius). Muttering some vague apology for his absence to the elderly man, he took his already-filled wine goblet in hand, sipping the thick liquid as he watched King Vangelis of Kotas offer them a few words.
It was not an especially inspiring speech in his opinion: seemingly standard words on the loss of his father and the strength of their nation, but he did not miss the glance towards his sister, and a part of him appreciated the comment that implied his family was not to blame for the late king's death. The Thanasis deserved no more suspicions cast upon them. It may even have marginally softened his distaste towards the man.
The food had arrived, although Mihail had never been a heavy eater (only another thing for which his father had found apparent distaste). Nonetheless, he half-heartedly reached for some grapes, their lightness a relief amidst all the stronger dishes available, and his attention turned to his father for the first time in the evening, the words pointed and overflowing with distaste. "I am surprised, Father, that you have so much to say regarding my choice of wardrobe, when you seemed so silent all those weeks that I was made to suffer in poverty under my true heritage. Tell me, did you ever have plans to inform me of anything, or did you wish for me to discover the truth on my own? At least I am here today, albeit begrudgingly - perhaps you should be glad that I have elected to forgive you rather than bring public scandal upon the family by not being present at such an illustrious event."
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"I understand. I lost my mother at a young age, and nothing can prepare one for the crushing cavity with which such a loss leaves one." It was not entirely the truth: Mihail had spent countless hours wishing for her death beforehand, and had only felt relief once his petitions had come true. But such matters were not something to be discussed with a grieving woman, and especially not when he was so clearly attempting to enter her good graces, and he could only nod in response to her words as she appeared to open her heart to him at that moment, dark eyes flickering momentarily over to Stephanos before he spoke once more. "Still, death has a habit of bringing others together, and you are lucky in that you have the comfort of both your close and extended family by your side."
It was a mild allusion to himself, though whether or not the princess picked up on his implication, he could not tell. That friendly smile remained on his face, although his amiability was momentarily tinged with a mild coquettishness. "I would be delighted if you wished to go on any such ride. I hear your Highness is quite the proficient archer, and as I do share quite an enthusiasm for the sport myself, I am sure a hunting trip would be most enjoyable, particularly if I might be able to keep your mind off less than pleasant topics. One does not come across many ladies who are keen on those activities considered more masculine; it is quite an attractive trait."
Until now, Mihail had almost entirely ignored the other man who stood with them, and as he spoke, his gaze turned fully onto Stephanos, head tilted inquisitively to one side at the query. He had never thought much on dancing, and although he was never opposed to it when it came to a formal event, and would even have gone so far as to think himself a relatively skilled dancer, he did not usually consider it his dearest hobby. "It would depend on my partner," he answered, somewhat truthfully, once more allowing his line of sight to flash across to Athanasia, though a concern instantly passed through him that Stephanos had intended to ask if he was willing to dance with him. Typically, Mihail would not have been opposed - he did consider the Mikaelidas to be quite handsome, and just in his tastes - but it would not do to dwell on such possibilities when he had a different interest in mind. "If you might be available for a dance with another lord later this evening, I would not be opposed to the idea."
With their new king now in attendance, however, there was little time left for such frivolous conversation, and Mihail lowered his head first towards the princess and then towards the once-king in a blend of apology and farewell, offering a hand to take Athanasia's in his own and lay a gentle kiss upon it. "I apologise, I should return to my family, though I do hope for the opportunity to converse once again when our meal is concluded." He offered her a final smile, nodding towards Stephanos now in turn. "Likewise, it has been a pleasure to meet you, my Lord. I have heard so much from my sisters."
Stepping away from the two, he directed himself towards where his father had seated himself alongside the rest of his siblings, not missing the glare shot in his direction, as if he were the greatest shame in the family (although, clearly, that was a title that should be awarded to Dysius). Muttering some vague apology for his absence to the elderly man, he took his already-filled wine goblet in hand, sipping the thick liquid as he watched King Vangelis of Kotas offer them a few words.
It was not an especially inspiring speech in his opinion: seemingly standard words on the loss of his father and the strength of their nation, but he did not miss the glance towards his sister, and a part of him appreciated the comment that implied his family was not to blame for the late king's death. The Thanasis deserved no more suspicions cast upon them. It may even have marginally softened his distaste towards the man.
The food had arrived, although Mihail had never been a heavy eater (only another thing for which his father had found apparent distaste). Nonetheless, he half-heartedly reached for some grapes, their lightness a relief amidst all the stronger dishes available, and his attention turned to his father for the first time in the evening, the words pointed and overflowing with distaste. "I am surprised, Father, that you have so much to say regarding my choice of wardrobe, when you seemed so silent all those weeks that I was made to suffer in poverty under my true heritage. Tell me, did you ever have plans to inform me of anything, or did you wish for me to discover the truth on my own? At least I am here today, albeit begrudgingly - perhaps you should be glad that I have elected to forgive you rather than bring public scandal upon the family by not being present at such an illustrious event."
"I understand. I lost my mother at a young age, and nothing can prepare one for the crushing cavity with which such a loss leaves one." It was not entirely the truth: Mihail had spent countless hours wishing for her death beforehand, and had only felt relief once his petitions had come true. But such matters were not something to be discussed with a grieving woman, and especially not when he was so clearly attempting to enter her good graces, and he could only nod in response to her words as she appeared to open her heart to him at that moment, dark eyes flickering momentarily over to Stephanos before he spoke once more. "Still, death has a habit of bringing others together, and you are lucky in that you have the comfort of both your close and extended family by your side."
It was a mild allusion to himself, though whether or not the princess picked up on his implication, he could not tell. That friendly smile remained on his face, although his amiability was momentarily tinged with a mild coquettishness. "I would be delighted if you wished to go on any such ride. I hear your Highness is quite the proficient archer, and as I do share quite an enthusiasm for the sport myself, I am sure a hunting trip would be most enjoyable, particularly if I might be able to keep your mind off less than pleasant topics. One does not come across many ladies who are keen on those activities considered more masculine; it is quite an attractive trait."
Until now, Mihail had almost entirely ignored the other man who stood with them, and as he spoke, his gaze turned fully onto Stephanos, head tilted inquisitively to one side at the query. He had never thought much on dancing, and although he was never opposed to it when it came to a formal event, and would even have gone so far as to think himself a relatively skilled dancer, he did not usually consider it his dearest hobby. "It would depend on my partner," he answered, somewhat truthfully, once more allowing his line of sight to flash across to Athanasia, though a concern instantly passed through him that Stephanos had intended to ask if he was willing to dance with him. Typically, Mihail would not have been opposed - he did consider the Mikaelidas to be quite handsome, and just in his tastes - but it would not do to dwell on such possibilities when he had a different interest in mind. "If you might be available for a dance with another lord later this evening, I would not be opposed to the idea."
With their new king now in attendance, however, there was little time left for such frivolous conversation, and Mihail lowered his head first towards the princess and then towards the once-king in a blend of apology and farewell, offering a hand to take Athanasia's in his own and lay a gentle kiss upon it. "I apologise, I should return to my family, though I do hope for the opportunity to converse once again when our meal is concluded." He offered her a final smile, nodding towards Stephanos now in turn. "Likewise, it has been a pleasure to meet you, my Lord. I have heard so much from my sisters."
Stepping away from the two, he directed himself towards where his father had seated himself alongside the rest of his siblings, not missing the glare shot in his direction, as if he were the greatest shame in the family (although, clearly, that was a title that should be awarded to Dysius). Muttering some vague apology for his absence to the elderly man, he took his already-filled wine goblet in hand, sipping the thick liquid as he watched King Vangelis of Kotas offer them a few words.
It was not an especially inspiring speech in his opinion: seemingly standard words on the loss of his father and the strength of their nation, but he did not miss the glance towards his sister, and a part of him appreciated the comment that implied his family was not to blame for the late king's death. The Thanasis deserved no more suspicions cast upon them. It may even have marginally softened his distaste towards the man.
The food had arrived, although Mihail had never been a heavy eater (only another thing for which his father had found apparent distaste). Nonetheless, he half-heartedly reached for some grapes, their lightness a relief amidst all the stronger dishes available, and his attention turned to his father for the first time in the evening, the words pointed and overflowing with distaste. "I am surprised, Father, that you have so much to say regarding my choice of wardrobe, when you seemed so silent all those weeks that I was made to suffer in poverty under my true heritage. Tell me, did you ever have plans to inform me of anything, or did you wish for me to discover the truth on my own? At least I am here today, albeit begrudgingly - perhaps you should be glad that I have elected to forgive you rather than bring public scandal upon the family by not being present at such an illustrious event."
At Vangelis’s arrival, Stephanos had bowed with the rest of them, but Lord Mihail had waylaid any immediate plans to sit down at a table. They were far from the only ones standing and with the princess of Colchis standing with him, he didn’t feel in any particular hurry to take his seat. He’d caught Pia’s glance and chose not to pretend that he hadn’t. His face still bore the scratches of their first night in Colchis and their room was still not in the condition it had been. The prudent choice had been made not to replace any of the things they’d broken in their fight. Stephanos couldn’t fault that, but it made staying in there hideously boring and so he chose to be out and about, most of the time.
His mind wandered while Lord Mihail and the princess spoke, and he watched as Imeeya sat across from a Lord whose name was on the tip of his tongue. He could almost remember. The face was familiar but he just couldn’t put a name there. Then, he was addressed and he looked back at Mihail, eyebrows raised. "If you might be available for a dance with another lord later this evening, I would not be opposed to the idea."
And then he realized what he, himself had said and how that could be misconstrued. Really, it had literally flown out of his mouth without thought and was meant to keep the conversation going, to not exclude Lord Mihail, and he found himself laughing a little. “If we find ourselves there, why not?” He smiled into his cup, finding this funny, not taking Mihail’s answer seriously, and then inclined his head to the two of them.
“I’m going to take my seat. It was nice to meet you, Lord Mihail. Your highness,” he said to Athanasia, and left their company to cross the room and sit with Imeeya’s group of people. There was space enough between Imeeya and Iolanthe that he decided to drop into it. Iolanthe he’d never seen in his life and he offered her a winning smile as an apology for being rude, then nodded to everyone else. He was not overly concerned about not knowing everyone. That was rather the point. Nor did he actually introduce himself, except to nod at Lord Silanos. Ah. There it was. The name finally came to him and he waited until Vangelis’s speech was over to address the pirate rumors.
“I disagree about most enduring country,” he said to the group at large. “But anyway, Lady Imeeya, what’s this I hear about you taking a pirate lover? Some of this gossip is quite salacious.”
He looked at Iolanthe again but then moved his gaze elsewhere, over Leto, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable, and then to Silanos, who also didn’t look to be in an overly jovial mood. What kind of group had he just dropped into?? Zeus almighty, this was a dud party. He almost wished he’d stayed to be assassinated by his uncle.
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At Vangelis’s arrival, Stephanos had bowed with the rest of them, but Lord Mihail had waylaid any immediate plans to sit down at a table. They were far from the only ones standing and with the princess of Colchis standing with him, he didn’t feel in any particular hurry to take his seat. He’d caught Pia’s glance and chose not to pretend that he hadn’t. His face still bore the scratches of their first night in Colchis and their room was still not in the condition it had been. The prudent choice had been made not to replace any of the things they’d broken in their fight. Stephanos couldn’t fault that, but it made staying in there hideously boring and so he chose to be out and about, most of the time.
His mind wandered while Lord Mihail and the princess spoke, and he watched as Imeeya sat across from a Lord whose name was on the tip of his tongue. He could almost remember. The face was familiar but he just couldn’t put a name there. Then, he was addressed and he looked back at Mihail, eyebrows raised. "If you might be available for a dance with another lord later this evening, I would not be opposed to the idea."
And then he realized what he, himself had said and how that could be misconstrued. Really, it had literally flown out of his mouth without thought and was meant to keep the conversation going, to not exclude Lord Mihail, and he found himself laughing a little. “If we find ourselves there, why not?” He smiled into his cup, finding this funny, not taking Mihail’s answer seriously, and then inclined his head to the two of them.
“I’m going to take my seat. It was nice to meet you, Lord Mihail. Your highness,” he said to Athanasia, and left their company to cross the room and sit with Imeeya’s group of people. There was space enough between Imeeya and Iolanthe that he decided to drop into it. Iolanthe he’d never seen in his life and he offered her a winning smile as an apology for being rude, then nodded to everyone else. He was not overly concerned about not knowing everyone. That was rather the point. Nor did he actually introduce himself, except to nod at Lord Silanos. Ah. There it was. The name finally came to him and he waited until Vangelis’s speech was over to address the pirate rumors.
“I disagree about most enduring country,” he said to the group at large. “But anyway, Lady Imeeya, what’s this I hear about you taking a pirate lover? Some of this gossip is quite salacious.”
He looked at Iolanthe again but then moved his gaze elsewhere, over Leto, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable, and then to Silanos, who also didn’t look to be in an overly jovial mood. What kind of group had he just dropped into?? Zeus almighty, this was a dud party. He almost wished he’d stayed to be assassinated by his uncle.
At Vangelis’s arrival, Stephanos had bowed with the rest of them, but Lord Mihail had waylaid any immediate plans to sit down at a table. They were far from the only ones standing and with the princess of Colchis standing with him, he didn’t feel in any particular hurry to take his seat. He’d caught Pia’s glance and chose not to pretend that he hadn’t. His face still bore the scratches of their first night in Colchis and their room was still not in the condition it had been. The prudent choice had been made not to replace any of the things they’d broken in their fight. Stephanos couldn’t fault that, but it made staying in there hideously boring and so he chose to be out and about, most of the time.
His mind wandered while Lord Mihail and the princess spoke, and he watched as Imeeya sat across from a Lord whose name was on the tip of his tongue. He could almost remember. The face was familiar but he just couldn’t put a name there. Then, he was addressed and he looked back at Mihail, eyebrows raised. "If you might be available for a dance with another lord later this evening, I would not be opposed to the idea."
And then he realized what he, himself had said and how that could be misconstrued. Really, it had literally flown out of his mouth without thought and was meant to keep the conversation going, to not exclude Lord Mihail, and he found himself laughing a little. “If we find ourselves there, why not?” He smiled into his cup, finding this funny, not taking Mihail’s answer seriously, and then inclined his head to the two of them.
“I’m going to take my seat. It was nice to meet you, Lord Mihail. Your highness,” he said to Athanasia, and left their company to cross the room and sit with Imeeya’s group of people. There was space enough between Imeeya and Iolanthe that he decided to drop into it. Iolanthe he’d never seen in his life and he offered her a winning smile as an apology for being rude, then nodded to everyone else. He was not overly concerned about not knowing everyone. That was rather the point. Nor did he actually introduce himself, except to nod at Lord Silanos. Ah. There it was. The name finally came to him and he waited until Vangelis’s speech was over to address the pirate rumors.
“I disagree about most enduring country,” he said to the group at large. “But anyway, Lady Imeeya, what’s this I hear about you taking a pirate lover? Some of this gossip is quite salacious.”
He looked at Iolanthe again but then moved his gaze elsewhere, over Leto, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable, and then to Silanos, who also didn’t look to be in an overly jovial mood. What kind of group had he just dropped into?? Zeus almighty, this was a dud party. He almost wished he’d stayed to be assassinated by his uncle.
Athanasia already knew that Lord Mihail's mother had died when he was young; learning about the major noble families of Colchis and those in the other kingdoms of Greece had been part of her education. She inclined her head, compassion in her hazel eyes, as he spoke of her, unaware of his true feelings about the woman who had given him birth.
For a moment, her throat was too tight to speak and she felt tears welling behind her eyes again. Why did she always feel like crying whn her father was mentioned? Strong people didn't cry and she liked to think of herself as every bit as strong emotionally as her brothers. At least they had not seen her cry during her self-imposed solitude in the first three days after they had found out about their father's untimely demise.
Glancing up at Vangelis at the royal table, a genuine but rather subdued smile curved her lips. “Yes, we have each other,” she agreed. “And we will all get through this together.” She did include Mihail in her 'we' as well as the rest of his siblings, though she say it aloud. The open-minded princess didn't share the general opinion that the Thanasi women were witches. Evras was intelligent and kind, and she'd spoken with their eldest sister Nethis while she was in Taengea. Unlike those rumors she had just heard about Imeeya, she thought the hearsay about Lord Mihail's family completely absurd and without even the slightest basis in reality.
Her smile brightened as he accepted her suggestion and then praised her skills as an archer. Did he really find women who enjoyed masculine activities attractive? Not many men did. Maybe he was only flirting with her. Sometimes it was so hard to tell what men were thinking, but Athanasia did hope that his words were true. “Thank you, my lord. You are probably better than I am, but perhaps you can give me some pointers.”
King Stephanos backed up her statement that they weren't talking about anything important but then seemed to think twice about dancing with her. “Oh no,” she assured him. “It won't be inconvenient at all. In fact, I shall be quite disappointed if you back out. I am looking forward to our dance.” Maybe he thought that his wife would object. Even Queen Olympia should know that he would never jeopardize his friendship with the King who had saved him from execution by dallying with his sister. She was one of the safest women he could spend time with.
He asked Lord Mihail if he liked to dance, and he looked at her when he replied that it would depend on his partner. Athanasia believed that he was speaking to her when he asked if she would be opposed to dancing with another lord, thinking he wished to partner her after her dance with King Stephanos. But the Taengean monarch said that he might consider dancing with him. He had a quirky sense of humor, much like her own “I get his first dance,” she chuckled. “but I would be delighted to dance with you as well, Lord Mihail.”
Athanasia looked again at the royal table, knowing that she should take her place there soon. Her handsome companions were ready to part as well, and she tried not to blush as Mihail's lips brushed over her fingers. She was not the kind of lady who always extended her hand for a courtly kiss, but she found the sensation quite pleasant. Perhaps she should rethink her objection to a gesture she had always considered too girly for her. “I shall look for you after the meal then,” she told him.
King Stephanos made his excuses as well. “It's always a pleasure, Your Majesty,” she told him. She nearly held her hand up for a kiss, just to test out her theory, but decided against it for now. Maybe she would do it after their meal.
Strolling up to the royal table, she took her seat only moments before Vangelis stood up. He was an excellent speaker and he brought up the concerns that most people probably had about their father's death. She already knew that Yiannis was investigating his murder and she had assumed that nobody in Colchis was responsible since he had died at sea. Athanasia smiled at her brother proudly as he resumed his seat, hoping that he would look her way.
A full plate was set before her and the delectable aroma made her realize how hungry she was. One good thing about sitting at the high table was that she had an excellent view of the entire room, and her gaze traveled around it as she ate. Her eyes widened when she saw King Stephanos sitting at the table with Imeeya and several others. Perhaps he was curious about the rumors. Surely her cousin wouldn't refuse to answer the inquiries of a King. When they danced later in the evening, she would ask him if he had discovered anything.
Lord Silanos was sitting with them as well! Athanasia had warned Imeeya to stay away from him, but what harm could he do in such a large group? As if he sensed that she was thinking of him, he looked straight at her, and the embarrassed princess nearly choked on a bite of meat as she quickly averted her eyes. Hopefully, he had not noticed her reaction. Washing it down with a sip of wine, she wondered if he be audacious enough to ask her to dance later … and if she even wanted to refuse.
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Athanasia already knew that Lord Mihail's mother had died when he was young; learning about the major noble families of Colchis and those in the other kingdoms of Greece had been part of her education. She inclined her head, compassion in her hazel eyes, as he spoke of her, unaware of his true feelings about the woman who had given him birth.
For a moment, her throat was too tight to speak and she felt tears welling behind her eyes again. Why did she always feel like crying whn her father was mentioned? Strong people didn't cry and she liked to think of herself as every bit as strong emotionally as her brothers. At least they had not seen her cry during her self-imposed solitude in the first three days after they had found out about their father's untimely demise.
Glancing up at Vangelis at the royal table, a genuine but rather subdued smile curved her lips. “Yes, we have each other,” she agreed. “And we will all get through this together.” She did include Mihail in her 'we' as well as the rest of his siblings, though she say it aloud. The open-minded princess didn't share the general opinion that the Thanasi women were witches. Evras was intelligent and kind, and she'd spoken with their eldest sister Nethis while she was in Taengea. Unlike those rumors she had just heard about Imeeya, she thought the hearsay about Lord Mihail's family completely absurd and without even the slightest basis in reality.
Her smile brightened as he accepted her suggestion and then praised her skills as an archer. Did he really find women who enjoyed masculine activities attractive? Not many men did. Maybe he was only flirting with her. Sometimes it was so hard to tell what men were thinking, but Athanasia did hope that his words were true. “Thank you, my lord. You are probably better than I am, but perhaps you can give me some pointers.”
King Stephanos backed up her statement that they weren't talking about anything important but then seemed to think twice about dancing with her. “Oh no,” she assured him. “It won't be inconvenient at all. In fact, I shall be quite disappointed if you back out. I am looking forward to our dance.” Maybe he thought that his wife would object. Even Queen Olympia should know that he would never jeopardize his friendship with the King who had saved him from execution by dallying with his sister. She was one of the safest women he could spend time with.
He asked Lord Mihail if he liked to dance, and he looked at her when he replied that it would depend on his partner. Athanasia believed that he was speaking to her when he asked if she would be opposed to dancing with another lord, thinking he wished to partner her after her dance with King Stephanos. But the Taengean monarch said that he might consider dancing with him. He had a quirky sense of humor, much like her own “I get his first dance,” she chuckled. “but I would be delighted to dance with you as well, Lord Mihail.”
Athanasia looked again at the royal table, knowing that she should take her place there soon. Her handsome companions were ready to part as well, and she tried not to blush as Mihail's lips brushed over her fingers. She was not the kind of lady who always extended her hand for a courtly kiss, but she found the sensation quite pleasant. Perhaps she should rethink her objection to a gesture she had always considered too girly for her. “I shall look for you after the meal then,” she told him.
King Stephanos made his excuses as well. “It's always a pleasure, Your Majesty,” she told him. She nearly held her hand up for a kiss, just to test out her theory, but decided against it for now. Maybe she would do it after their meal.
Strolling up to the royal table, she took her seat only moments before Vangelis stood up. He was an excellent speaker and he brought up the concerns that most people probably had about their father's death. She already knew that Yiannis was investigating his murder and she had assumed that nobody in Colchis was responsible since he had died at sea. Athanasia smiled at her brother proudly as he resumed his seat, hoping that he would look her way.
A full plate was set before her and the delectable aroma made her realize how hungry she was. One good thing about sitting at the high table was that she had an excellent view of the entire room, and her gaze traveled around it as she ate. Her eyes widened when she saw King Stephanos sitting at the table with Imeeya and several others. Perhaps he was curious about the rumors. Surely her cousin wouldn't refuse to answer the inquiries of a King. When they danced later in the evening, she would ask him if he had discovered anything.
Lord Silanos was sitting with them as well! Athanasia had warned Imeeya to stay away from him, but what harm could he do in such a large group? As if he sensed that she was thinking of him, he looked straight at her, and the embarrassed princess nearly choked on a bite of meat as she quickly averted her eyes. Hopefully, he had not noticed her reaction. Washing it down with a sip of wine, she wondered if he be audacious enough to ask her to dance later … and if she even wanted to refuse.
Athanasia already knew that Lord Mihail's mother had died when he was young; learning about the major noble families of Colchis and those in the other kingdoms of Greece had been part of her education. She inclined her head, compassion in her hazel eyes, as he spoke of her, unaware of his true feelings about the woman who had given him birth.
For a moment, her throat was too tight to speak and she felt tears welling behind her eyes again. Why did she always feel like crying whn her father was mentioned? Strong people didn't cry and she liked to think of herself as every bit as strong emotionally as her brothers. At least they had not seen her cry during her self-imposed solitude in the first three days after they had found out about their father's untimely demise.
Glancing up at Vangelis at the royal table, a genuine but rather subdued smile curved her lips. “Yes, we have each other,” she agreed. “And we will all get through this together.” She did include Mihail in her 'we' as well as the rest of his siblings, though she say it aloud. The open-minded princess didn't share the general opinion that the Thanasi women were witches. Evras was intelligent and kind, and she'd spoken with their eldest sister Nethis while she was in Taengea. Unlike those rumors she had just heard about Imeeya, she thought the hearsay about Lord Mihail's family completely absurd and without even the slightest basis in reality.
Her smile brightened as he accepted her suggestion and then praised her skills as an archer. Did he really find women who enjoyed masculine activities attractive? Not many men did. Maybe he was only flirting with her. Sometimes it was so hard to tell what men were thinking, but Athanasia did hope that his words were true. “Thank you, my lord. You are probably better than I am, but perhaps you can give me some pointers.”
King Stephanos backed up her statement that they weren't talking about anything important but then seemed to think twice about dancing with her. “Oh no,” she assured him. “It won't be inconvenient at all. In fact, I shall be quite disappointed if you back out. I am looking forward to our dance.” Maybe he thought that his wife would object. Even Queen Olympia should know that he would never jeopardize his friendship with the King who had saved him from execution by dallying with his sister. She was one of the safest women he could spend time with.
He asked Lord Mihail if he liked to dance, and he looked at her when he replied that it would depend on his partner. Athanasia believed that he was speaking to her when he asked if she would be opposed to dancing with another lord, thinking he wished to partner her after her dance with King Stephanos. But the Taengean monarch said that he might consider dancing with him. He had a quirky sense of humor, much like her own “I get his first dance,” she chuckled. “but I would be delighted to dance with you as well, Lord Mihail.”
Athanasia looked again at the royal table, knowing that she should take her place there soon. Her handsome companions were ready to part as well, and she tried not to blush as Mihail's lips brushed over her fingers. She was not the kind of lady who always extended her hand for a courtly kiss, but she found the sensation quite pleasant. Perhaps she should rethink her objection to a gesture she had always considered too girly for her. “I shall look for you after the meal then,” she told him.
King Stephanos made his excuses as well. “It's always a pleasure, Your Majesty,” she told him. She nearly held her hand up for a kiss, just to test out her theory, but decided against it for now. Maybe she would do it after their meal.
Strolling up to the royal table, she took her seat only moments before Vangelis stood up. He was an excellent speaker and he brought up the concerns that most people probably had about their father's death. She already knew that Yiannis was investigating his murder and she had assumed that nobody in Colchis was responsible since he had died at sea. Athanasia smiled at her brother proudly as he resumed his seat, hoping that he would look her way.
A full plate was set before her and the delectable aroma made her realize how hungry she was. One good thing about sitting at the high table was that she had an excellent view of the entire room, and her gaze traveled around it as she ate. Her eyes widened when she saw King Stephanos sitting at the table with Imeeya and several others. Perhaps he was curious about the rumors. Surely her cousin wouldn't refuse to answer the inquiries of a King. When they danced later in the evening, she would ask him if he had discovered anything.
Lord Silanos was sitting with them as well! Athanasia had warned Imeeya to stay away from him, but what harm could he do in such a large group? As if he sensed that she was thinking of him, he looked straight at her, and the embarrassed princess nearly choked on a bite of meat as she quickly averted her eyes. Hopefully, he had not noticed her reaction. Washing it down with a sip of wine, she wondered if he be audacious enough to ask her to dance later … and if she even wanted to refuse.
Maleos dreaded spending the night with Damocles as his company, the man had a way of getting on his nerves quickly and easily, and unfortunately this was not a situation where Maleos would be able to just excuse himself and make his escape. He would in fact be stuck with the company of the other Captain for most of the night. He silently hoped for someone to come along and distract Damocles from his current fixation on the younger Captain.
He listened to Damocles’ story, not having much care for the words he spoke, but too polite to ignore him completely. He found no entertainment in any of the other man’s words, not able to relate to a single thing he spoke about. Maleos spent his childhood training, making his practice weapons and spending his free time fighting imaginary foes in glorious battles. When he wasn’t playing with his wooden weapons, he was helping his father with his work, doing the heavy lifting and manual labour that his father could not do. He had never been one for such disrespect, and he couldn’t help but wonder how a man like Damocles had ever made Captain.
His raucous laughter stood out amongst the other voices of the hall, and Maleos wished the floor would open and swallow him, even that would be better than the attention that Damocles had drawn to the two men. He very nearly wanted to stand up and just leave, though he knew that was not an actual possibility.
The unamused look on Maleos’ face would be enough to tell Damocles that he had not found the right audience for his stories. Maleos knew of his reputation, how he was called boring and humourless, and that did not bother him one bit. He had a sense of humour, it just was not on the same page as Damocles. He and Tim had spent many nights drinking wine and telling stories, laughter rampant among the two men as they did so. This he did not find funny in any sense of the word.
He sat there in silence, praying for some sort of distraction, as he did not have words for Damocles, unwilling to pretend that he had enjoyed the tales he had told.
He was thankful as everyone fell silent once more as the new monarch began to address the gathered numbers.
He listened with intent to the new King’s words, each one of them instilling a sense of pride and honour in the Captain. He was the living embodiment of loyalty. He had dedicated his life to serving Colchis, to bringing glory to his home with everything he did, every decision he made. All of it, for Colchis.
He did not regret a single moment of it, or a single decision he had made. The King’s speech only served to further cement that feeling in Maleos, and made him wish to push himself even harder, to do more for Colchis and its citizens.
When the food began to be served, Maleos dug in along with the others they were seated with, distinctly aware that Damocles was still there with him, and he would need to find words for the other Captain lest things grow even more awkward in the air between them.
And so, as he began to eat, he attempted to find a topic that they might agree upon.
“Your thoughts on the King’s speech?” He asked, wondering if the other male would feel as move and patriotic as he had from hearing the speech, or if he had another opinion. What he was even more curious about, was whether or not the man would voice his true opinion, or he would just say some nice words and move on.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Maleos dreaded spending the night with Damocles as his company, the man had a way of getting on his nerves quickly and easily, and unfortunately this was not a situation where Maleos would be able to just excuse himself and make his escape. He would in fact be stuck with the company of the other Captain for most of the night. He silently hoped for someone to come along and distract Damocles from his current fixation on the younger Captain.
He listened to Damocles’ story, not having much care for the words he spoke, but too polite to ignore him completely. He found no entertainment in any of the other man’s words, not able to relate to a single thing he spoke about. Maleos spent his childhood training, making his practice weapons and spending his free time fighting imaginary foes in glorious battles. When he wasn’t playing with his wooden weapons, he was helping his father with his work, doing the heavy lifting and manual labour that his father could not do. He had never been one for such disrespect, and he couldn’t help but wonder how a man like Damocles had ever made Captain.
His raucous laughter stood out amongst the other voices of the hall, and Maleos wished the floor would open and swallow him, even that would be better than the attention that Damocles had drawn to the two men. He very nearly wanted to stand up and just leave, though he knew that was not an actual possibility.
The unamused look on Maleos’ face would be enough to tell Damocles that he had not found the right audience for his stories. Maleos knew of his reputation, how he was called boring and humourless, and that did not bother him one bit. He had a sense of humour, it just was not on the same page as Damocles. He and Tim had spent many nights drinking wine and telling stories, laughter rampant among the two men as they did so. This he did not find funny in any sense of the word.
He sat there in silence, praying for some sort of distraction, as he did not have words for Damocles, unwilling to pretend that he had enjoyed the tales he had told.
He was thankful as everyone fell silent once more as the new monarch began to address the gathered numbers.
He listened with intent to the new King’s words, each one of them instilling a sense of pride and honour in the Captain. He was the living embodiment of loyalty. He had dedicated his life to serving Colchis, to bringing glory to his home with everything he did, every decision he made. All of it, for Colchis.
He did not regret a single moment of it, or a single decision he had made. The King’s speech only served to further cement that feeling in Maleos, and made him wish to push himself even harder, to do more for Colchis and its citizens.
When the food began to be served, Maleos dug in along with the others they were seated with, distinctly aware that Damocles was still there with him, and he would need to find words for the other Captain lest things grow even more awkward in the air between them.
And so, as he began to eat, he attempted to find a topic that they might agree upon.
“Your thoughts on the King’s speech?” He asked, wondering if the other male would feel as move and patriotic as he had from hearing the speech, or if he had another opinion. What he was even more curious about, was whether or not the man would voice his true opinion, or he would just say some nice words and move on.
Maleos dreaded spending the night with Damocles as his company, the man had a way of getting on his nerves quickly and easily, and unfortunately this was not a situation where Maleos would be able to just excuse himself and make his escape. He would in fact be stuck with the company of the other Captain for most of the night. He silently hoped for someone to come along and distract Damocles from his current fixation on the younger Captain.
He listened to Damocles’ story, not having much care for the words he spoke, but too polite to ignore him completely. He found no entertainment in any of the other man’s words, not able to relate to a single thing he spoke about. Maleos spent his childhood training, making his practice weapons and spending his free time fighting imaginary foes in glorious battles. When he wasn’t playing with his wooden weapons, he was helping his father with his work, doing the heavy lifting and manual labour that his father could not do. He had never been one for such disrespect, and he couldn’t help but wonder how a man like Damocles had ever made Captain.
His raucous laughter stood out amongst the other voices of the hall, and Maleos wished the floor would open and swallow him, even that would be better than the attention that Damocles had drawn to the two men. He very nearly wanted to stand up and just leave, though he knew that was not an actual possibility.
The unamused look on Maleos’ face would be enough to tell Damocles that he had not found the right audience for his stories. Maleos knew of his reputation, how he was called boring and humourless, and that did not bother him one bit. He had a sense of humour, it just was not on the same page as Damocles. He and Tim had spent many nights drinking wine and telling stories, laughter rampant among the two men as they did so. This he did not find funny in any sense of the word.
He sat there in silence, praying for some sort of distraction, as he did not have words for Damocles, unwilling to pretend that he had enjoyed the tales he had told.
He was thankful as everyone fell silent once more as the new monarch began to address the gathered numbers.
He listened with intent to the new King’s words, each one of them instilling a sense of pride and honour in the Captain. He was the living embodiment of loyalty. He had dedicated his life to serving Colchis, to bringing glory to his home with everything he did, every decision he made. All of it, for Colchis.
He did not regret a single moment of it, or a single decision he had made. The King’s speech only served to further cement that feeling in Maleos, and made him wish to push himself even harder, to do more for Colchis and its citizens.
When the food began to be served, Maleos dug in along with the others they were seated with, distinctly aware that Damocles was still there with him, and he would need to find words for the other Captain lest things grow even more awkward in the air between them.
And so, as he began to eat, he attempted to find a topic that they might agree upon.
“Your thoughts on the King’s speech?” He asked, wondering if the other male would feel as move and patriotic as he had from hearing the speech, or if he had another opinion. What he was even more curious about, was whether or not the man would voice his true opinion, or he would just say some nice words and move on.
She wasn't paying much mind to her surroundings, not really, and that was why she flinched when she felt a hand brush against her. She lifted her gaze to see Princess Evras. It seemed her wish to be left alone had gone unanswered, but didn't everything? Ariah had no time to even consider if she was to apologize for flinching away before she was given a command. It was a task, a simple, and one she did not delay in carrying out.
She supposed it was some small blessing to be away from the function, if only for a moment. She quickly made towards the kitchen, sticking as close to the wall as possible. Upon her arrival, she grabbed the attention of the first person she could flag down in the bustle of the kitchens. Their exchange was to the point; The Princess Evras had sent her for the King had arrived and the meal needed to be served soon after. She ensured the detail of wine being served was not forgotten and then exited the kitchen.
It seemed her stay in the kitchen was longer than she intended, for when she returned servants were already on the move. She soon found herself in the back of the queue of other servants, who were being directed this way and that by the steward. A number of those in front of her were given large bowls of food and directed to other tables. As the line dwindled, her stomach began to churn. The option of other tables was becoming slimmer and slimmer. Was she-? No, no, that couldn't be right, surely she would be directed elsewhere.
That, however, was not the case.
Not in the slightest.
A plate was placed in her trembling hands as she and the rest of those remaining in the queue were directed to the table. Her breath was shaky but she had to calm down. Nothing would be worse than dropping a plate on the ground, let alone on someone. She followed behind those in front to the one table she didn't want to be near and mirrored their movements. Perhaps not the greatest strategy in the world, but what else did she have to go on? The last thing she wanted was to be noticed in any capacity.
There was only one place left to take when all was said in done and that was next to the one person she didn't want to be near.
Vangelis.
There was no time for tarrying, however, so when the other servants placed their plates in front of those they stood next to, so did she. She wasn't sure what to do next, so she simply did what everyone else did. It had yet to failure.
And hopefully, the night would be over soon.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
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She wasn't paying much mind to her surroundings, not really, and that was why she flinched when she felt a hand brush against her. She lifted her gaze to see Princess Evras. It seemed her wish to be left alone had gone unanswered, but didn't everything? Ariah had no time to even consider if she was to apologize for flinching away before she was given a command. It was a task, a simple, and one she did not delay in carrying out.
She supposed it was some small blessing to be away from the function, if only for a moment. She quickly made towards the kitchen, sticking as close to the wall as possible. Upon her arrival, she grabbed the attention of the first person she could flag down in the bustle of the kitchens. Their exchange was to the point; The Princess Evras had sent her for the King had arrived and the meal needed to be served soon after. She ensured the detail of wine being served was not forgotten and then exited the kitchen.
It seemed her stay in the kitchen was longer than she intended, for when she returned servants were already on the move. She soon found herself in the back of the queue of other servants, who were being directed this way and that by the steward. A number of those in front of her were given large bowls of food and directed to other tables. As the line dwindled, her stomach began to churn. The option of other tables was becoming slimmer and slimmer. Was she-? No, no, that couldn't be right, surely she would be directed elsewhere.
That, however, was not the case.
Not in the slightest.
A plate was placed in her trembling hands as she and the rest of those remaining in the queue were directed to the table. Her breath was shaky but she had to calm down. Nothing would be worse than dropping a plate on the ground, let alone on someone. She followed behind those in front to the one table she didn't want to be near and mirrored their movements. Perhaps not the greatest strategy in the world, but what else did she have to go on? The last thing she wanted was to be noticed in any capacity.
There was only one place left to take when all was said in done and that was next to the one person she didn't want to be near.
Vangelis.
There was no time for tarrying, however, so when the other servants placed their plates in front of those they stood next to, so did she. She wasn't sure what to do next, so she simply did what everyone else did. It had yet to failure.
And hopefully, the night would be over soon.
She wasn't paying much mind to her surroundings, not really, and that was why she flinched when she felt a hand brush against her. She lifted her gaze to see Princess Evras. It seemed her wish to be left alone had gone unanswered, but didn't everything? Ariah had no time to even consider if she was to apologize for flinching away before she was given a command. It was a task, a simple, and one she did not delay in carrying out.
She supposed it was some small blessing to be away from the function, if only for a moment. She quickly made towards the kitchen, sticking as close to the wall as possible. Upon her arrival, she grabbed the attention of the first person she could flag down in the bustle of the kitchens. Their exchange was to the point; The Princess Evras had sent her for the King had arrived and the meal needed to be served soon after. She ensured the detail of wine being served was not forgotten and then exited the kitchen.
It seemed her stay in the kitchen was longer than she intended, for when she returned servants were already on the move. She soon found herself in the back of the queue of other servants, who were being directed this way and that by the steward. A number of those in front of her were given large bowls of food and directed to other tables. As the line dwindled, her stomach began to churn. The option of other tables was becoming slimmer and slimmer. Was she-? No, no, that couldn't be right, surely she would be directed elsewhere.
That, however, was not the case.
Not in the slightest.
A plate was placed in her trembling hands as she and the rest of those remaining in the queue were directed to the table. Her breath was shaky but she had to calm down. Nothing would be worse than dropping a plate on the ground, let alone on someone. She followed behind those in front to the one table she didn't want to be near and mirrored their movements. Perhaps not the greatest strategy in the world, but what else did she have to go on? The last thing she wanted was to be noticed in any capacity.
There was only one place left to take when all was said in done and that was next to the one person she didn't want to be near.
Vangelis.
There was no time for tarrying, however, so when the other servants placed their plates in front of those they stood next to, so did she. She wasn't sure what to do next, so she simply did what everyone else did. It had yet to failure.