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She flushed when Achilleas looked at her, seeming surprised that she would speak to him -- blinking at her as if she had grown a second head or a third eye. She had to resist the urge to duck her head, or drop her eyes -- instead keeping them on him. Somehow the pair of them had both gotten a similar shade of blue, and she found herself clinging to that small detail. They were the same somehow, even if he refused to acknowledge her beyond pleasantries. She did not think she would ever stop trying to be on her eldest brother’s good side. They were awkward at best, and she’d shrank back since she had seemed to offend him before but she felt that their relationship was worth pursuing. Her smile widened, losing its stiffness as he responded positively. Internally, she was relieved because somehow she had though he might ignore her or say something to cut the conversation short.
It did not last as long as she would have hoped, because as quickly as it had started it was over and he had turned away to pick up conversation with Emilios again. Still, her shoulders which had been stiff with anxiety had dropped and she felt a surge of pride that she’d been able to speak up at least. Another win for her, following the small disaster that had been the Queen’s party a few months ago. Strange how quickly things had changed for their family since then.
She felt her mother’s pinch under the table, and the girl’s smile faded as she went back to her dinner. She certainly did not look forward to what her mother might have to say after. Luckily for her, Sara was saved then by her other brother’s attention. Her blue gaze flicked up at the sound of her name, her brightness restored as he asked about her. Emilios always knew what to say, and had always made her feel included even if her mother had tried hard to discourage them from having a relationship. It hadn’t worked really, only driving them together more forcefully. The two youngest halves of the divided family, she might have called Emilios more of a sibling than either Achilleas or Tasia. Both of them seemed so intent on the politics of things, rather than accept the difficult bonds that bound them together.
Sara scooted forward, more animated than before. She risked a glance at Achilleas and then Tasia, before deciding to ignore them and their parents. ”Oh yes.” She said emphatically, practically bouncing with excitement already. ”I am finally old enough.” Her happiness further inflated as he asked her to save him a dance. She’d been working hard to improve upon her dancing skills since her first party, thinking the wedding would be a good chance to redeem herself. ”Of course! You know that I would love to dance with you, Emilios.” She laughed, the sound light and airy. ”Maybe this time I won’t step on anyone’s toes.” She meant that more figuratively than literally.
”You better be careful, Erika will take you by the ear if you get too close to her hard work.” She teased, lowering her voice to be less intrusive to other conversations. Erika was the housekeeper who led the other servants, and she was probably zealously guarding the preparations for tomorrow. Everything had to be perfect. She raised her eyebrows meaningfully, asking her mischievous brother if he might be up for a little adventure this evening once they were dismissed. Something about sneaking sweets out from under Erika’s nose was very appealing all of a sudden.
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She flushed when Achilleas looked at her, seeming surprised that she would speak to him -- blinking at her as if she had grown a second head or a third eye. She had to resist the urge to duck her head, or drop her eyes -- instead keeping them on him. Somehow the pair of them had both gotten a similar shade of blue, and she found herself clinging to that small detail. They were the same somehow, even if he refused to acknowledge her beyond pleasantries. She did not think she would ever stop trying to be on her eldest brother’s good side. They were awkward at best, and she’d shrank back since she had seemed to offend him before but she felt that their relationship was worth pursuing. Her smile widened, losing its stiffness as he responded positively. Internally, she was relieved because somehow she had though he might ignore her or say something to cut the conversation short.
It did not last as long as she would have hoped, because as quickly as it had started it was over and he had turned away to pick up conversation with Emilios again. Still, her shoulders which had been stiff with anxiety had dropped and she felt a surge of pride that she’d been able to speak up at least. Another win for her, following the small disaster that had been the Queen’s party a few months ago. Strange how quickly things had changed for their family since then.
She felt her mother’s pinch under the table, and the girl’s smile faded as she went back to her dinner. She certainly did not look forward to what her mother might have to say after. Luckily for her, Sara was saved then by her other brother’s attention. Her blue gaze flicked up at the sound of her name, her brightness restored as he asked about her. Emilios always knew what to say, and had always made her feel included even if her mother had tried hard to discourage them from having a relationship. It hadn’t worked really, only driving them together more forcefully. The two youngest halves of the divided family, she might have called Emilios more of a sibling than either Achilleas or Tasia. Both of them seemed so intent on the politics of things, rather than accept the difficult bonds that bound them together.
Sara scooted forward, more animated than before. She risked a glance at Achilleas and then Tasia, before deciding to ignore them and their parents. ”Oh yes.” She said emphatically, practically bouncing with excitement already. ”I am finally old enough.” Her happiness further inflated as he asked her to save him a dance. She’d been working hard to improve upon her dancing skills since her first party, thinking the wedding would be a good chance to redeem herself. ”Of course! You know that I would love to dance with you, Emilios.” She laughed, the sound light and airy. ”Maybe this time I won’t step on anyone’s toes.” She meant that more figuratively than literally.
”You better be careful, Erika will take you by the ear if you get too close to her hard work.” She teased, lowering her voice to be less intrusive to other conversations. Erika was the housekeeper who led the other servants, and she was probably zealously guarding the preparations for tomorrow. Everything had to be perfect. She raised her eyebrows meaningfully, asking her mischievous brother if he might be up for a little adventure this evening once they were dismissed. Something about sneaking sweets out from under Erika’s nose was very appealing all of a sudden.
She flushed when Achilleas looked at her, seeming surprised that she would speak to him -- blinking at her as if she had grown a second head or a third eye. She had to resist the urge to duck her head, or drop her eyes -- instead keeping them on him. Somehow the pair of them had both gotten a similar shade of blue, and she found herself clinging to that small detail. They were the same somehow, even if he refused to acknowledge her beyond pleasantries. She did not think she would ever stop trying to be on her eldest brother’s good side. They were awkward at best, and she’d shrank back since she had seemed to offend him before but she felt that their relationship was worth pursuing. Her smile widened, losing its stiffness as he responded positively. Internally, she was relieved because somehow she had though he might ignore her or say something to cut the conversation short.
It did not last as long as she would have hoped, because as quickly as it had started it was over and he had turned away to pick up conversation with Emilios again. Still, her shoulders which had been stiff with anxiety had dropped and she felt a surge of pride that she’d been able to speak up at least. Another win for her, following the small disaster that had been the Queen’s party a few months ago. Strange how quickly things had changed for their family since then.
She felt her mother’s pinch under the table, and the girl’s smile faded as she went back to her dinner. She certainly did not look forward to what her mother might have to say after. Luckily for her, Sara was saved then by her other brother’s attention. Her blue gaze flicked up at the sound of her name, her brightness restored as he asked about her. Emilios always knew what to say, and had always made her feel included even if her mother had tried hard to discourage them from having a relationship. It hadn’t worked really, only driving them together more forcefully. The two youngest halves of the divided family, she might have called Emilios more of a sibling than either Achilleas or Tasia. Both of them seemed so intent on the politics of things, rather than accept the difficult bonds that bound them together.
Sara scooted forward, more animated than before. She risked a glance at Achilleas and then Tasia, before deciding to ignore them and their parents. ”Oh yes.” She said emphatically, practically bouncing with excitement already. ”I am finally old enough.” Her happiness further inflated as he asked her to save him a dance. She’d been working hard to improve upon her dancing skills since her first party, thinking the wedding would be a good chance to redeem herself. ”Of course! You know that I would love to dance with you, Emilios.” She laughed, the sound light and airy. ”Maybe this time I won’t step on anyone’s toes.” She meant that more figuratively than literally.
”You better be careful, Erika will take you by the ear if you get too close to her hard work.” She teased, lowering her voice to be less intrusive to other conversations. Erika was the housekeeper who led the other servants, and she was probably zealously guarding the preparations for tomorrow. Everything had to be perfect. She raised her eyebrows meaningfully, asking her mischievous brother if he might be up for a little adventure this evening once they were dismissed. Something about sneaking sweets out from under Erika’s nose was very appealing all of a sudden.
While Irakles managed to withhold from rolling his eyes, a grunt of dissastifaction was all it took to convey his disagreement in how jovial Emilios seemed to act in the face of such stringent times. How did he ended up with a lack of ambition for both sons, and only his elder daughter inheriting his streak for success? He had not expected it when he married the mouse of a woman which was Myrto for his wife, but now he saw he perhaps should have said something when he recognized his wife to be a spineless armpiece upon marriage. The Gods must be laughing at how his children had inherited all of their mother's lack of want to come out at the top of the pecking order.
Taking a swig of his wine to wash down the bites of roasted meats and vegetables, the man picked at the cheese and bread offered on his plate as he nodded in affirmation to Achilleas and Emilios's agreement. Of course, Gavriil of Dimitrou would have no trace of Stephanos upon his land - he had his own men properly sniffing out the traces of where his nephew had went with his unborn offspring. Irakles had all intent to ensure both the young King and his blood would be snuffed out before their return. He would mourn their deaths, but the throne would be his.
He had worked too hard for it to fail now.
Allowing his offspring to converse amongst themselves, he internally rolled his eyes this time at the slip of sentiment Achilleas showed for his bride. If his eldest was still trying to hide the affection he clearly felt for his intended, he was failing, for Irakles could see the way his son was smitten with his future wife. Still, the union was politically advantageous, so for once, Irakles did not comment on anything, merely offered more wine to Meena as the meal progressed on, and the servants entered to offer more freshly roasted meats and vegetables.
Taking more to place both on his and Meena's platter, and then automatically waving the servants over to Myrto so they would serve her before the rest of the children at the table, he casted an eye to his daughters, a warning look to Emilios to not encourage Sara's behavior to be anything but perfect. "Meena, I expect the girl's to be dressed appropriately for the wedding. You will remain here to ensure the manor is well prepped with Myrto for when the wedding entourage would come here after visiting the temples." They would start out at the Leventi household to pick up the bridge, getting the blessings from the Head Priests at the temple of the Gods before returning for the feast and celebration at this manor itself, and he expected it to be pristine.
"Sara, you will conduct yourself with import. Look to Tasia. Tasia, ensure your sister is well trained in the conduct for a proper function." Sara had little experience with court sessions, so for that, he expected her elder sister to teach her, for Tasia had attended many sessions with her mother in the last two years. Despite their dubious backgrounds, the clout of Irakles was enough to get the two girls admitted to many royal functions, and for that they were treated as if they were of royal birth themselves.
Towards the end of the meal, the newly minted King of Taengea finally cleared his throat, taking a last swig of fresh juice before casting another look at the table. "If there are no final questions, I expect everyone to be well and up to date on what would happen in the coming future." The warning in the timbre of his voice was beyond strict, and it was obvious that should any of them act out of place, Irakles was not beneath appropriate punishment, blood relation or not. "Do not embarass the house." And do not embarass me. It was an unspoken warning, and before any of them could say anything else, the retired general pushed away, motioning at Meena to come with him before he retreated to his bedchamber.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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While Irakles managed to withhold from rolling his eyes, a grunt of dissastifaction was all it took to convey his disagreement in how jovial Emilios seemed to act in the face of such stringent times. How did he ended up with a lack of ambition for both sons, and only his elder daughter inheriting his streak for success? He had not expected it when he married the mouse of a woman which was Myrto for his wife, but now he saw he perhaps should have said something when he recognized his wife to be a spineless armpiece upon marriage. The Gods must be laughing at how his children had inherited all of their mother's lack of want to come out at the top of the pecking order.
Taking a swig of his wine to wash down the bites of roasted meats and vegetables, the man picked at the cheese and bread offered on his plate as he nodded in affirmation to Achilleas and Emilios's agreement. Of course, Gavriil of Dimitrou would have no trace of Stephanos upon his land - he had his own men properly sniffing out the traces of where his nephew had went with his unborn offspring. Irakles had all intent to ensure both the young King and his blood would be snuffed out before their return. He would mourn their deaths, but the throne would be his.
He had worked too hard for it to fail now.
Allowing his offspring to converse amongst themselves, he internally rolled his eyes this time at the slip of sentiment Achilleas showed for his bride. If his eldest was still trying to hide the affection he clearly felt for his intended, he was failing, for Irakles could see the way his son was smitten with his future wife. Still, the union was politically advantageous, so for once, Irakles did not comment on anything, merely offered more wine to Meena as the meal progressed on, and the servants entered to offer more freshly roasted meats and vegetables.
Taking more to place both on his and Meena's platter, and then automatically waving the servants over to Myrto so they would serve her before the rest of the children at the table, he casted an eye to his daughters, a warning look to Emilios to not encourage Sara's behavior to be anything but perfect. "Meena, I expect the girl's to be dressed appropriately for the wedding. You will remain here to ensure the manor is well prepped with Myrto for when the wedding entourage would come here after visiting the temples." They would start out at the Leventi household to pick up the bridge, getting the blessings from the Head Priests at the temple of the Gods before returning for the feast and celebration at this manor itself, and he expected it to be pristine.
"Sara, you will conduct yourself with import. Look to Tasia. Tasia, ensure your sister is well trained in the conduct for a proper function." Sara had little experience with court sessions, so for that, he expected her elder sister to teach her, for Tasia had attended many sessions with her mother in the last two years. Despite their dubious backgrounds, the clout of Irakles was enough to get the two girls admitted to many royal functions, and for that they were treated as if they were of royal birth themselves.
Towards the end of the meal, the newly minted King of Taengea finally cleared his throat, taking a last swig of fresh juice before casting another look at the table. "If there are no final questions, I expect everyone to be well and up to date on what would happen in the coming future." The warning in the timbre of his voice was beyond strict, and it was obvious that should any of them act out of place, Irakles was not beneath appropriate punishment, blood relation or not. "Do not embarass the house." And do not embarass me. It was an unspoken warning, and before any of them could say anything else, the retired general pushed away, motioning at Meena to come with him before he retreated to his bedchamber.
While Irakles managed to withhold from rolling his eyes, a grunt of dissastifaction was all it took to convey his disagreement in how jovial Emilios seemed to act in the face of such stringent times. How did he ended up with a lack of ambition for both sons, and only his elder daughter inheriting his streak for success? He had not expected it when he married the mouse of a woman which was Myrto for his wife, but now he saw he perhaps should have said something when he recognized his wife to be a spineless armpiece upon marriage. The Gods must be laughing at how his children had inherited all of their mother's lack of want to come out at the top of the pecking order.
Taking a swig of his wine to wash down the bites of roasted meats and vegetables, the man picked at the cheese and bread offered on his plate as he nodded in affirmation to Achilleas and Emilios's agreement. Of course, Gavriil of Dimitrou would have no trace of Stephanos upon his land - he had his own men properly sniffing out the traces of where his nephew had went with his unborn offspring. Irakles had all intent to ensure both the young King and his blood would be snuffed out before their return. He would mourn their deaths, but the throne would be his.
He had worked too hard for it to fail now.
Allowing his offspring to converse amongst themselves, he internally rolled his eyes this time at the slip of sentiment Achilleas showed for his bride. If his eldest was still trying to hide the affection he clearly felt for his intended, he was failing, for Irakles could see the way his son was smitten with his future wife. Still, the union was politically advantageous, so for once, Irakles did not comment on anything, merely offered more wine to Meena as the meal progressed on, and the servants entered to offer more freshly roasted meats and vegetables.
Taking more to place both on his and Meena's platter, and then automatically waving the servants over to Myrto so they would serve her before the rest of the children at the table, he casted an eye to his daughters, a warning look to Emilios to not encourage Sara's behavior to be anything but perfect. "Meena, I expect the girl's to be dressed appropriately for the wedding. You will remain here to ensure the manor is well prepped with Myrto for when the wedding entourage would come here after visiting the temples." They would start out at the Leventi household to pick up the bridge, getting the blessings from the Head Priests at the temple of the Gods before returning for the feast and celebration at this manor itself, and he expected it to be pristine.
"Sara, you will conduct yourself with import. Look to Tasia. Tasia, ensure your sister is well trained in the conduct for a proper function." Sara had little experience with court sessions, so for that, he expected her elder sister to teach her, for Tasia had attended many sessions with her mother in the last two years. Despite their dubious backgrounds, the clout of Irakles was enough to get the two girls admitted to many royal functions, and for that they were treated as if they were of royal birth themselves.
Towards the end of the meal, the newly minted King of Taengea finally cleared his throat, taking a last swig of fresh juice before casting another look at the table. "If there are no final questions, I expect everyone to be well and up to date on what would happen in the coming future." The warning in the timbre of his voice was beyond strict, and it was obvious that should any of them act out of place, Irakles was not beneath appropriate punishment, blood relation or not. "Do not embarass the house." And do not embarass me. It was an unspoken warning, and before any of them could say anything else, the retired general pushed away, motioning at Meena to come with him before he retreated to his bedchamber.
It was settled then, the brothers would pay a visit to Meganea and see if they could turn up anything that might vindicate their cousin. Achilleas remained confused about why their father seemed to think it a viable source for information but he figured he had crossed swords enough with the man on this night, the eve of what was to be a celebration.
Taking a sip of his wine, his gaze flickered to Emilios as his younger brother started up a conversation with Sara. Achilleas looked automatically to his mother, but she was gracious in never letting any discontent show. Unlike the woman his father chose to parade around, Achilleas had not missed the daggers Meena had shot at the younger of her daughters when the girl had piped up to speak to him directly. It was almost enough to have him continue te conversation just to irk her, but he told himself he was above such pettiness and busied himself eating what little he could stomach of the meal.
When his father began lecturing, he looked up, opening his mouth to protest at the idea that Meena had any role to play in preparing the manor. That was his mother’s role, but it was her quieting touch on his arm that had him bite his tongue again. There were words for Sara and Tasia too, and Achilleas waited, but it would seem their father had passed enough judgement on he and his brother for one evening, and it was just a lowly spoken order for no one to embarrass the house that he left them with.
With Meena rising from the table to accompany him to their chambers, the slightly oppressive air of the room lifted when they had departed, and Achilleas sighed and set down his utensils. He had little appetite, whether it be from that conversation or nerves regarding the next day’s events, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he felt the need for a little space. And apparently, he needed to do something with his hair.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think I shall retire for the evening also,” he said, pushing to his feet. Moving around the table to kiss his mother’s cheek, Achilleas spared a smile for her before he nodded to Emilios and briefly the girls before taking his leave.
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It was settled then, the brothers would pay a visit to Meganea and see if they could turn up anything that might vindicate their cousin. Achilleas remained confused about why their father seemed to think it a viable source for information but he figured he had crossed swords enough with the man on this night, the eve of what was to be a celebration.
Taking a sip of his wine, his gaze flickered to Emilios as his younger brother started up a conversation with Sara. Achilleas looked automatically to his mother, but she was gracious in never letting any discontent show. Unlike the woman his father chose to parade around, Achilleas had not missed the daggers Meena had shot at the younger of her daughters when the girl had piped up to speak to him directly. It was almost enough to have him continue te conversation just to irk her, but he told himself he was above such pettiness and busied himself eating what little he could stomach of the meal.
When his father began lecturing, he looked up, opening his mouth to protest at the idea that Meena had any role to play in preparing the manor. That was his mother’s role, but it was her quieting touch on his arm that had him bite his tongue again. There were words for Sara and Tasia too, and Achilleas waited, but it would seem their father had passed enough judgement on he and his brother for one evening, and it was just a lowly spoken order for no one to embarrass the house that he left them with.
With Meena rising from the table to accompany him to their chambers, the slightly oppressive air of the room lifted when they had departed, and Achilleas sighed and set down his utensils. He had little appetite, whether it be from that conversation or nerves regarding the next day’s events, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he felt the need for a little space. And apparently, he needed to do something with his hair.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think I shall retire for the evening also,” he said, pushing to his feet. Moving around the table to kiss his mother’s cheek, Achilleas spared a smile for her before he nodded to Emilios and briefly the girls before taking his leave.
It was settled then, the brothers would pay a visit to Meganea and see if they could turn up anything that might vindicate their cousin. Achilleas remained confused about why their father seemed to think it a viable source for information but he figured he had crossed swords enough with the man on this night, the eve of what was to be a celebration.
Taking a sip of his wine, his gaze flickered to Emilios as his younger brother started up a conversation with Sara. Achilleas looked automatically to his mother, but she was gracious in never letting any discontent show. Unlike the woman his father chose to parade around, Achilleas had not missed the daggers Meena had shot at the younger of her daughters when the girl had piped up to speak to him directly. It was almost enough to have him continue te conversation just to irk her, but he told himself he was above such pettiness and busied himself eating what little he could stomach of the meal.
When his father began lecturing, he looked up, opening his mouth to protest at the idea that Meena had any role to play in preparing the manor. That was his mother’s role, but it was her quieting touch on his arm that had him bite his tongue again. There were words for Sara and Tasia too, and Achilleas waited, but it would seem their father had passed enough judgement on he and his brother for one evening, and it was just a lowly spoken order for no one to embarrass the house that he left them with.
With Meena rising from the table to accompany him to their chambers, the slightly oppressive air of the room lifted when they had departed, and Achilleas sighed and set down his utensils. He had little appetite, whether it be from that conversation or nerves regarding the next day’s events, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he felt the need for a little space. And apparently, he needed to do something with his hair.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think I shall retire for the evening also,” he said, pushing to his feet. Moving around the table to kiss his mother’s cheek, Achilleas spared a smile for her before he nodded to Emilios and briefly the girls before taking his leave.
Emilios had always wanted another sibling, someone he could be the example for. While he had grown jealous of Achilleas as they got older, there was a quiet part of his heart that remembered the days when he hung on his brother’s every word. His mother used to call him the shadow, the way he was always closely behind the older boy in everything he did. It wasn’t until he got older that jealousy had taken over the feelings of affection with his brother. He had always wanted to be as good as Achilleas at anything, and then when it was obvious he would never be, it began to hurt far more than he thought it would.
So while he hadn’t connected to Tasia in any sort of sibling respect, he found himself drawn to Sara. He hadn’t minded the way she always seemed to find him alone to ask dozens of questions to, or that she had given him something to smile about when he had been trying to hide his pain. She was a light, and had she not been born a bastard, the girl might have had a chance at a decent marriage.
There was poetic justice in knowing that the only one Irakles was remotely proud of could never be anything-- bastards would be lucky to marry a shopkeep.
He didn’t seem to care that his parents were glaring at him, that hers was staring him down-- had he ever? Instead, he was too focused on the way her eyes lit up at the chance for a court event. The comment about stepping on his toes made him wince in amusement, remembering the damage done. “This time, I’ll be prepared for it.” He said with a wink, spending the rest of the meal amusing her with conversation.
It was good for his soul to have this distraction while the idea of losing the only woman he ever loved hung over his head. While his father might not have wanted embarrassment, he just needed to make it through the next few days. He knew the moment he left this table, he would be left alone with this thoughts, the desire to drown them out in drink would have been too strong for him to resist. So he could sit her, and make her giggle under her breath, while the others glared throughout the meal.
It was as the meal was finished that he finally gave his father another glance. Bowing his head at his words, he didn’t give the elders another glance, save for his mother. The look on her face was hard to explain, even as her eldest son kissed her cheek and left. He was sure that this was hard on her. So, it seemed only right to press a sloppy, playful kiss onto Sara’s cheek, toss a glare to Tasia, and move to his mother’s side. “Come, I’ll escort you to your chambers, Mother.” He said with a smile, knowing that conversation with her would do him some good.
So with that, he escorted the Queen from the hall, leaving the rest of the bunch behind to figure out what they needed for the next day.
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Emilios had always wanted another sibling, someone he could be the example for. While he had grown jealous of Achilleas as they got older, there was a quiet part of his heart that remembered the days when he hung on his brother’s every word. His mother used to call him the shadow, the way he was always closely behind the older boy in everything he did. It wasn’t until he got older that jealousy had taken over the feelings of affection with his brother. He had always wanted to be as good as Achilleas at anything, and then when it was obvious he would never be, it began to hurt far more than he thought it would.
So while he hadn’t connected to Tasia in any sort of sibling respect, he found himself drawn to Sara. He hadn’t minded the way she always seemed to find him alone to ask dozens of questions to, or that she had given him something to smile about when he had been trying to hide his pain. She was a light, and had she not been born a bastard, the girl might have had a chance at a decent marriage.
There was poetic justice in knowing that the only one Irakles was remotely proud of could never be anything-- bastards would be lucky to marry a shopkeep.
He didn’t seem to care that his parents were glaring at him, that hers was staring him down-- had he ever? Instead, he was too focused on the way her eyes lit up at the chance for a court event. The comment about stepping on his toes made him wince in amusement, remembering the damage done. “This time, I’ll be prepared for it.” He said with a wink, spending the rest of the meal amusing her with conversation.
It was good for his soul to have this distraction while the idea of losing the only woman he ever loved hung over his head. While his father might not have wanted embarrassment, he just needed to make it through the next few days. He knew the moment he left this table, he would be left alone with this thoughts, the desire to drown them out in drink would have been too strong for him to resist. So he could sit her, and make her giggle under her breath, while the others glared throughout the meal.
It was as the meal was finished that he finally gave his father another glance. Bowing his head at his words, he didn’t give the elders another glance, save for his mother. The look on her face was hard to explain, even as her eldest son kissed her cheek and left. He was sure that this was hard on her. So, it seemed only right to press a sloppy, playful kiss onto Sara’s cheek, toss a glare to Tasia, and move to his mother’s side. “Come, I’ll escort you to your chambers, Mother.” He said with a smile, knowing that conversation with her would do him some good.
So with that, he escorted the Queen from the hall, leaving the rest of the bunch behind to figure out what they needed for the next day.
Emilios had always wanted another sibling, someone he could be the example for. While he had grown jealous of Achilleas as they got older, there was a quiet part of his heart that remembered the days when he hung on his brother’s every word. His mother used to call him the shadow, the way he was always closely behind the older boy in everything he did. It wasn’t until he got older that jealousy had taken over the feelings of affection with his brother. He had always wanted to be as good as Achilleas at anything, and then when it was obvious he would never be, it began to hurt far more than he thought it would.
So while he hadn’t connected to Tasia in any sort of sibling respect, he found himself drawn to Sara. He hadn’t minded the way she always seemed to find him alone to ask dozens of questions to, or that she had given him something to smile about when he had been trying to hide his pain. She was a light, and had she not been born a bastard, the girl might have had a chance at a decent marriage.
There was poetic justice in knowing that the only one Irakles was remotely proud of could never be anything-- bastards would be lucky to marry a shopkeep.
He didn’t seem to care that his parents were glaring at him, that hers was staring him down-- had he ever? Instead, he was too focused on the way her eyes lit up at the chance for a court event. The comment about stepping on his toes made him wince in amusement, remembering the damage done. “This time, I’ll be prepared for it.” He said with a wink, spending the rest of the meal amusing her with conversation.
It was good for his soul to have this distraction while the idea of losing the only woman he ever loved hung over his head. While his father might not have wanted embarrassment, he just needed to make it through the next few days. He knew the moment he left this table, he would be left alone with this thoughts, the desire to drown them out in drink would have been too strong for him to resist. So he could sit her, and make her giggle under her breath, while the others glared throughout the meal.
It was as the meal was finished that he finally gave his father another glance. Bowing his head at his words, he didn’t give the elders another glance, save for his mother. The look on her face was hard to explain, even as her eldest son kissed her cheek and left. He was sure that this was hard on her. So, it seemed only right to press a sloppy, playful kiss onto Sara’s cheek, toss a glare to Tasia, and move to his mother’s side. “Come, I’ll escort you to your chambers, Mother.” He said with a smile, knowing that conversation with her would do him some good.
So with that, he escorted the Queen from the hall, leaving the rest of the bunch behind to figure out what they needed for the next day.
Dinner continued, and Sara was quite pleased with her bravery in speaking up -- it having led to not one but two successful conversations with her brothers, no matter how brief. It warmed her right through, a secret happy glow that would keep her eyes bright for a long time. She did not even seem to mind the glare that her mother had leveled her with, trying to simmer the youngster’s spirits; nor the calm facade of her sister which meant that she was most likely jealous.
When her father rose from the table, she let herself relax a little more. At least now she didn’t have to pretend to ignore the eyes boring into her. It was no surprise at all that Achilleas was gone quickly afterward, and her happiness dimmed just a little as she knew that this family affair was coming to an end. It was no matter, for tomorrow would be a day full of activity. One by one, or two by two, the family seemed to dissipate to prepare for an evening of rest before a busy day.
Sara’s face scrunched as Emilios planted a kiss on her cheek, her own flushing with color as she wiped it away in mock disgust. Still, she laughed again -- shaking her head as she took the final bites of her meal. She wanted to say something to Lady Myrto, but she had learned quite early in life that it was best not to speak to the woman -- even though it pained someone like Sara. She could feel Tasia’s judgemental stare, and then her sister was rising from the table as well without a word -- off to do whatever it was that she would need to in order to be ready for tomorrow.
The youngest in the house was left sitting alone, the servants not afraid to begin cleaning up while she still sat there. Tomorrow will be a happy day. She thought, her smile softening. And before long, she too was rising and departing for her chambers. She would certainly need her rest for the day ahead.
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Dinner continued, and Sara was quite pleased with her bravery in speaking up -- it having led to not one but two successful conversations with her brothers, no matter how brief. It warmed her right through, a secret happy glow that would keep her eyes bright for a long time. She did not even seem to mind the glare that her mother had leveled her with, trying to simmer the youngster’s spirits; nor the calm facade of her sister which meant that she was most likely jealous.
When her father rose from the table, she let herself relax a little more. At least now she didn’t have to pretend to ignore the eyes boring into her. It was no surprise at all that Achilleas was gone quickly afterward, and her happiness dimmed just a little as she knew that this family affair was coming to an end. It was no matter, for tomorrow would be a day full of activity. One by one, or two by two, the family seemed to dissipate to prepare for an evening of rest before a busy day.
Sara’s face scrunched as Emilios planted a kiss on her cheek, her own flushing with color as she wiped it away in mock disgust. Still, she laughed again -- shaking her head as she took the final bites of her meal. She wanted to say something to Lady Myrto, but she had learned quite early in life that it was best not to speak to the woman -- even though it pained someone like Sara. She could feel Tasia’s judgemental stare, and then her sister was rising from the table as well without a word -- off to do whatever it was that she would need to in order to be ready for tomorrow.
The youngest in the house was left sitting alone, the servants not afraid to begin cleaning up while she still sat there. Tomorrow will be a happy day. She thought, her smile softening. And before long, she too was rising and departing for her chambers. She would certainly need her rest for the day ahead.
Dinner continued, and Sara was quite pleased with her bravery in speaking up -- it having led to not one but two successful conversations with her brothers, no matter how brief. It warmed her right through, a secret happy glow that would keep her eyes bright for a long time. She did not even seem to mind the glare that her mother had leveled her with, trying to simmer the youngster’s spirits; nor the calm facade of her sister which meant that she was most likely jealous.
When her father rose from the table, she let herself relax a little more. At least now she didn’t have to pretend to ignore the eyes boring into her. It was no surprise at all that Achilleas was gone quickly afterward, and her happiness dimmed just a little as she knew that this family affair was coming to an end. It was no matter, for tomorrow would be a day full of activity. One by one, or two by two, the family seemed to dissipate to prepare for an evening of rest before a busy day.
Sara’s face scrunched as Emilios planted a kiss on her cheek, her own flushing with color as she wiped it away in mock disgust. Still, she laughed again -- shaking her head as she took the final bites of her meal. She wanted to say something to Lady Myrto, but she had learned quite early in life that it was best not to speak to the woman -- even though it pained someone like Sara. She could feel Tasia’s judgemental stare, and then her sister was rising from the table as well without a word -- off to do whatever it was that she would need to in order to be ready for tomorrow.
The youngest in the house was left sitting alone, the servants not afraid to begin cleaning up while she still sat there. Tomorrow will be a happy day. She thought, her smile softening. And before long, she too was rising and departing for her chambers. She would certainly need her rest for the day ahead.