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Vasia loved the smell of the library. The tang of leather, the crisp, almost woody scent of parchment. It gave her a feeling of peace like nowhere else. Idly, the blonde ran a finger across the middle shelf of the cabinet she stood before, still surprised every time at the sheer volume of knowledge that was held here.
She could not understand those who did not use it, who didn’t see the worth to be found in the thoughts of so many who were better than they, wiser. Vasia knew of course that she was blessed with privilege, that there were those who could not pay the requisite coin to benefit from the Scholero. But she also knew that there were enough arrogant fools amongst her peers who took no interest in this sprawling palace of wisdom.
She had been young, younger when she had first come here. Wide eyed and so impressionable, dazzled by the lofty ideas and the passionate way in which people owned their theories. And as she paused to pull out a scroll, Vasia felt her lips curl into a smile. Not people perhaps.
Zoser had tangled her up in his stories, and she had been happily swept away for the time he had spared her. It was a bittersweet thing to dwell upon, her foolish naievty embarassing to look upon, but still Vasia could not make herself regret it. She drew a quick, sharp breath, glancing about her and dismissing the recollections as quickly as they had come upon her. It had been long years since she had seen the Egyptian man, and she was not so soft hearted now. But her love of stories and learning had endured even if that had not.
Carefullly collecting three scrolls, the blonde woman carried them to a table that was positioned under the shaded window, set them down before she gathered the fall of dark silk from around her legs and swept it to the side, lowering herself to the klismos elegantly, long slender fingers already working to unfasten the leather binding of the first scroll.
When it had been unfurled, Vasia soon found herself absorbed in the script. Some new writings questioning the very expanse of the skies themselves, and it was all too easy to imagine those pin prick stars as being only the beginning of something much more vast. How insignificant they must be in comparison. How far did the Gods hold sway over that vastness?
She was so deep in her musings that Vasia actually startled at the realisation that someone had drawn close without her realising, and her gaze was sharp as it slid upwards to look upon the one who had disturbed her, though a smile was quick to follow along with a subtle lift of a brow
“Mistress Elysia. What a pleasant surprise. I did not know you attended the University?”
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Vasia loved the smell of the library. The tang of leather, the crisp, almost woody scent of parchment. It gave her a feeling of peace like nowhere else. Idly, the blonde ran a finger across the middle shelf of the cabinet she stood before, still surprised every time at the sheer volume of knowledge that was held here.
She could not understand those who did not use it, who didn’t see the worth to be found in the thoughts of so many who were better than they, wiser. Vasia knew of course that she was blessed with privilege, that there were those who could not pay the requisite coin to benefit from the Scholero. But she also knew that there were enough arrogant fools amongst her peers who took no interest in this sprawling palace of wisdom.
She had been young, younger when she had first come here. Wide eyed and so impressionable, dazzled by the lofty ideas and the passionate way in which people owned their theories. And as she paused to pull out a scroll, Vasia felt her lips curl into a smile. Not people perhaps.
Zoser had tangled her up in his stories, and she had been happily swept away for the time he had spared her. It was a bittersweet thing to dwell upon, her foolish naievty embarassing to look upon, but still Vasia could not make herself regret it. She drew a quick, sharp breath, glancing about her and dismissing the recollections as quickly as they had come upon her. It had been long years since she had seen the Egyptian man, and she was not so soft hearted now. But her love of stories and learning had endured even if that had not.
Carefullly collecting three scrolls, the blonde woman carried them to a table that was positioned under the shaded window, set them down before she gathered the fall of dark silk from around her legs and swept it to the side, lowering herself to the klismos elegantly, long slender fingers already working to unfasten the leather binding of the first scroll.
When it had been unfurled, Vasia soon found herself absorbed in the script. Some new writings questioning the very expanse of the skies themselves, and it was all too easy to imagine those pin prick stars as being only the beginning of something much more vast. How insignificant they must be in comparison. How far did the Gods hold sway over that vastness?
She was so deep in her musings that Vasia actually startled at the realisation that someone had drawn close without her realising, and her gaze was sharp as it slid upwards to look upon the one who had disturbed her, though a smile was quick to follow along with a subtle lift of a brow
“Mistress Elysia. What a pleasant surprise. I did not know you attended the University?”
Vasia loved the smell of the library. The tang of leather, the crisp, almost woody scent of parchment. It gave her a feeling of peace like nowhere else. Idly, the blonde ran a finger across the middle shelf of the cabinet she stood before, still surprised every time at the sheer volume of knowledge that was held here.
She could not understand those who did not use it, who didn’t see the worth to be found in the thoughts of so many who were better than they, wiser. Vasia knew of course that she was blessed with privilege, that there were those who could not pay the requisite coin to benefit from the Scholero. But she also knew that there were enough arrogant fools amongst her peers who took no interest in this sprawling palace of wisdom.
She had been young, younger when she had first come here. Wide eyed and so impressionable, dazzled by the lofty ideas and the passionate way in which people owned their theories. And as she paused to pull out a scroll, Vasia felt her lips curl into a smile. Not people perhaps.
Zoser had tangled her up in his stories, and she had been happily swept away for the time he had spared her. It was a bittersweet thing to dwell upon, her foolish naievty embarassing to look upon, but still Vasia could not make herself regret it. She drew a quick, sharp breath, glancing about her and dismissing the recollections as quickly as they had come upon her. It had been long years since she had seen the Egyptian man, and she was not so soft hearted now. But her love of stories and learning had endured even if that had not.
Carefullly collecting three scrolls, the blonde woman carried them to a table that was positioned under the shaded window, set them down before she gathered the fall of dark silk from around her legs and swept it to the side, lowering herself to the klismos elegantly, long slender fingers already working to unfasten the leather binding of the first scroll.
When it had been unfurled, Vasia soon found herself absorbed in the script. Some new writings questioning the very expanse of the skies themselves, and it was all too easy to imagine those pin prick stars as being only the beginning of something much more vast. How insignificant they must be in comparison. How far did the Gods hold sway over that vastness?
She was so deep in her musings that Vasia actually startled at the realisation that someone had drawn close without her realising, and her gaze was sharp as it slid upwards to look upon the one who had disturbed her, though a smile was quick to follow along with a subtle lift of a brow
“Mistress Elysia. What a pleasant surprise. I did not know you attended the University?”
The university was a place that she loved almost as much as her own home. She was not a student there and never had been, but she was drawn to the minds and people that moved inside these graceful white walls. The columns that held up the university’s roof were kept free of climbing vines and were always clean and beautiful. This building was almost sacred to Athenians, nearly more so than the temples of the gods. It was here that one came to learn, to expand the mind, to heal the inner soul from the stupidity of others.
As much as she liked and needed to mingle with people, Elysia loved to read more. Books did not hide things, they did not lie, they did not argue. They were objects that freely gave up their information. Treat a book well and all it asked for was to be read. Books did not need bribes or touches or lies. Books had no hidden agendas. Books were not fatiguing. They simply were.
She moved through the room, her fingertips sliding along the bookshelves, looking at the embossed titles on the spines of the newer books. The ones that were terribly expensive to make, and thus only readable here, in the library. This room was round and most of its light came from tall windows in its walls, and from windows in the roof, leaving her with huge swaths of shadow, and then brilliant white squares of sunlight to wade through.
Lady Vasia and herself were hardly the only people in the library. Young men and women were littered about the place, taking up floorspace with discussion circles, or holed up on their own, tucked onto klines or chairs or hunched over tables as they painstakingly copied the pages of a book into their notes. The scratch of quills softly echoed off the walls but was muffled by the shelves. Elysia moved from the book section to the taller shelves that housed rows upon rows of scrolls, all neatly incased in squares, some stored in hard rolls of boiled leather casements, others only clasped by leather straps.
Through the gaps in one of the shelves, she saw a familiar blonde head, bent over a scroll. Elysia smiled to herself touched her fingers to her hair to ensure it was still a tidy cascade of brown curls, and stepped around the shelf. At first her presence went unacknowledged, but Lady Vasia finally lifted her head and smiled. The question that the other woman asked made Elysia smile in return and shake her head. Her hands were clasped demurely in front of her and she indicated a seat across from Lady Vasia, silently asking if she could take it, even as she presumed to do so.
“No, I have never attended. My uncle made sure that we had a private tutor at home, but I never aspired to anything more formal myself. My husband is often here,” she said and looked around as though he’d appear at that instant. Obviously he did not and she turned back to Lady Vasia. “I saw you reading and thought that you looked just like a painting.” Leaning forward, she eyed the scroll in front of the other girl and pointedly smiled. “What is it that has you so entranced?”
Someone coughed in the distance behind her. This was answered by an even further away cough. From somewhere unseen, one of the curators of the library shushed both of those interrupters of the peaceful silence. Elysia’s voice was kept low for that exact purpose, to escape the notice of the librarians and not to court their irritation. It wouldn’t do to have Cicero hearing that she was being disruptive in one of his favorite retreats.
“Perhaps I should study for myself,” she mused, after Vasia told her what she was reading. “I do, often, but today I came seeking my husband. He does not seem to be here, though.” Although, just because she hadn’t seen him didn’t mean he wasn’t around. Cicero could be literally anywhere on campus and it was big enough that if she checked one place and moved on, he might come there after her and so would be an endless circle of trying to locate him. It was why she never tried very hard and if she really did need his presence immediately, she dispatched a servant.
“You know,” she said after a pause. “You look lovely just like this. Have you considered having yourself immortalized as a statue? I’m sure any number of sculptors wouldn’t mind taking your likeness down.” What that might cost, she didn’t know. She didn’t pretend to anything so grand, herself.
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The university was a place that she loved almost as much as her own home. She was not a student there and never had been, but she was drawn to the minds and people that moved inside these graceful white walls. The columns that held up the university’s roof were kept free of climbing vines and were always clean and beautiful. This building was almost sacred to Athenians, nearly more so than the temples of the gods. It was here that one came to learn, to expand the mind, to heal the inner soul from the stupidity of others.
As much as she liked and needed to mingle with people, Elysia loved to read more. Books did not hide things, they did not lie, they did not argue. They were objects that freely gave up their information. Treat a book well and all it asked for was to be read. Books did not need bribes or touches or lies. Books had no hidden agendas. Books were not fatiguing. They simply were.
She moved through the room, her fingertips sliding along the bookshelves, looking at the embossed titles on the spines of the newer books. The ones that were terribly expensive to make, and thus only readable here, in the library. This room was round and most of its light came from tall windows in its walls, and from windows in the roof, leaving her with huge swaths of shadow, and then brilliant white squares of sunlight to wade through.
Lady Vasia and herself were hardly the only people in the library. Young men and women were littered about the place, taking up floorspace with discussion circles, or holed up on their own, tucked onto klines or chairs or hunched over tables as they painstakingly copied the pages of a book into their notes. The scratch of quills softly echoed off the walls but was muffled by the shelves. Elysia moved from the book section to the taller shelves that housed rows upon rows of scrolls, all neatly incased in squares, some stored in hard rolls of boiled leather casements, others only clasped by leather straps.
Through the gaps in one of the shelves, she saw a familiar blonde head, bent over a scroll. Elysia smiled to herself touched her fingers to her hair to ensure it was still a tidy cascade of brown curls, and stepped around the shelf. At first her presence went unacknowledged, but Lady Vasia finally lifted her head and smiled. The question that the other woman asked made Elysia smile in return and shake her head. Her hands were clasped demurely in front of her and she indicated a seat across from Lady Vasia, silently asking if she could take it, even as she presumed to do so.
“No, I have never attended. My uncle made sure that we had a private tutor at home, but I never aspired to anything more formal myself. My husband is often here,” she said and looked around as though he’d appear at that instant. Obviously he did not and she turned back to Lady Vasia. “I saw you reading and thought that you looked just like a painting.” Leaning forward, she eyed the scroll in front of the other girl and pointedly smiled. “What is it that has you so entranced?”
Someone coughed in the distance behind her. This was answered by an even further away cough. From somewhere unseen, one of the curators of the library shushed both of those interrupters of the peaceful silence. Elysia’s voice was kept low for that exact purpose, to escape the notice of the librarians and not to court their irritation. It wouldn’t do to have Cicero hearing that she was being disruptive in one of his favorite retreats.
“Perhaps I should study for myself,” she mused, after Vasia told her what she was reading. “I do, often, but today I came seeking my husband. He does not seem to be here, though.” Although, just because she hadn’t seen him didn’t mean he wasn’t around. Cicero could be literally anywhere on campus and it was big enough that if she checked one place and moved on, he might come there after her and so would be an endless circle of trying to locate him. It was why she never tried very hard and if she really did need his presence immediately, she dispatched a servant.
“You know,” she said after a pause. “You look lovely just like this. Have you considered having yourself immortalized as a statue? I’m sure any number of sculptors wouldn’t mind taking your likeness down.” What that might cost, she didn’t know. She didn’t pretend to anything so grand, herself.
The university was a place that she loved almost as much as her own home. She was not a student there and never had been, but she was drawn to the minds and people that moved inside these graceful white walls. The columns that held up the university’s roof were kept free of climbing vines and were always clean and beautiful. This building was almost sacred to Athenians, nearly more so than the temples of the gods. It was here that one came to learn, to expand the mind, to heal the inner soul from the stupidity of others.
As much as she liked and needed to mingle with people, Elysia loved to read more. Books did not hide things, they did not lie, they did not argue. They were objects that freely gave up their information. Treat a book well and all it asked for was to be read. Books did not need bribes or touches or lies. Books had no hidden agendas. Books were not fatiguing. They simply were.
She moved through the room, her fingertips sliding along the bookshelves, looking at the embossed titles on the spines of the newer books. The ones that were terribly expensive to make, and thus only readable here, in the library. This room was round and most of its light came from tall windows in its walls, and from windows in the roof, leaving her with huge swaths of shadow, and then brilliant white squares of sunlight to wade through.
Lady Vasia and herself were hardly the only people in the library. Young men and women were littered about the place, taking up floorspace with discussion circles, or holed up on their own, tucked onto klines or chairs or hunched over tables as they painstakingly copied the pages of a book into their notes. The scratch of quills softly echoed off the walls but was muffled by the shelves. Elysia moved from the book section to the taller shelves that housed rows upon rows of scrolls, all neatly incased in squares, some stored in hard rolls of boiled leather casements, others only clasped by leather straps.
Through the gaps in one of the shelves, she saw a familiar blonde head, bent over a scroll. Elysia smiled to herself touched her fingers to her hair to ensure it was still a tidy cascade of brown curls, and stepped around the shelf. At first her presence went unacknowledged, but Lady Vasia finally lifted her head and smiled. The question that the other woman asked made Elysia smile in return and shake her head. Her hands were clasped demurely in front of her and she indicated a seat across from Lady Vasia, silently asking if she could take it, even as she presumed to do so.
“No, I have never attended. My uncle made sure that we had a private tutor at home, but I never aspired to anything more formal myself. My husband is often here,” she said and looked around as though he’d appear at that instant. Obviously he did not and she turned back to Lady Vasia. “I saw you reading and thought that you looked just like a painting.” Leaning forward, she eyed the scroll in front of the other girl and pointedly smiled. “What is it that has you so entranced?”
Someone coughed in the distance behind her. This was answered by an even further away cough. From somewhere unseen, one of the curators of the library shushed both of those interrupters of the peaceful silence. Elysia’s voice was kept low for that exact purpose, to escape the notice of the librarians and not to court their irritation. It wouldn’t do to have Cicero hearing that she was being disruptive in one of his favorite retreats.
“Perhaps I should study for myself,” she mused, after Vasia told her what she was reading. “I do, often, but today I came seeking my husband. He does not seem to be here, though.” Although, just because she hadn’t seen him didn’t mean he wasn’t around. Cicero could be literally anywhere on campus and it was big enough that if she checked one place and moved on, he might come there after her and so would be an endless circle of trying to locate him. It was why she never tried very hard and if she really did need his presence immediately, she dispatched a servant.
“You know,” she said after a pause. “You look lovely just like this. Have you considered having yourself immortalized as a statue? I’m sure any number of sculptors wouldn’t mind taking your likeness down.” What that might cost, she didn’t know. She didn’t pretend to anything so grand, herself.
Vasia was perhaps not thrilled to have been interrupted, but now her attention had been drawn away from her reading, she focused it all on the brunette woman before her. Elysia was known well enough to the Antonis woman, her husband held an important position in Athenia, and Vasia knew well enough that no small part of his success could be attributed to the workings of the wife at his side. She wondered what would have motivated the woman to seek her out.
“Yes, I see him often” she offered in response to Elysia’s words pertaining to the Master of Secrets, adding a “I haven’t seen him today though” in case the woman was searching for him. But it appeared not as the conversation continued, and Vasia let out a quiet chuckle at the observation that the other made.
“You are kind to me I think. Unless it were to be a painting depicting intense concentration and an unflattering creased brow!”
She was smiling but it was a little guarded still, and Vasia glanced down towards the unfurled scroll before at Elysia’s question, and sketched a finger over the script there. Opening her mouth to reply, she stopped herself when there was an obvious shushing from across the expanse of the library, not aimed at them but still a reminder to keep her voice low as she did answer. “ It is some new writings on cosmology, and terribly complicated, hence me probably looking as if I was trying to read Coptic backwards. But fascinating all the same.”
She gave a brief, close lipped smile, not being familiar enough with the text to offer up any more on it just then and thinking that really that was not what had drawn Elysia to strike up a conversation with her. Perhaps she really was just looking for her husband?
“As I said, I haven’t seen him at all today” Vasia replied quietly “ Though he does have a rather alarming ability to appear from seemingly nowhere. It must be most unsettling to live with the man” She was mostly joking, though Cicero of Athenia was most definitely a man with a certain set of skills that made him very good at his job, and that in itself was enough to give her a slight unease about the man, despite what seemed a personable nature. And Vasia most certainly wasn't one to underestimate her fellow women either, so Elysia was deserving of respect despite her more humble birth.
At the suggestion that she might be immortalised in stone, Vasia shook her head. “I’m quite sure I do not have the patience to sit for such a thing, though you are very sweet. Nor would any sculptor wish to listen to me complain about such idleness. I’m sure that there are those much better suited to it than me.” The blonde raised finely arched brows “ Perhaps it is a thing you should entertain yourself? If it is an interest, my Aunt probably knows sculptors who would be delighted, as you say, to spend so many hours staring at a feminine form.” There was a little roll of her eyes before Vasia asked “ Was it something important you needed Master Cicero for? He sometimes is found in the gallery.”
She left the words hanging, her eyes darting down towards the scroll she had been reading and back up again. “Of course, you are welcome to join me if you wanted to read?”
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Vasia was perhaps not thrilled to have been interrupted, but now her attention had been drawn away from her reading, she focused it all on the brunette woman before her. Elysia was known well enough to the Antonis woman, her husband held an important position in Athenia, and Vasia knew well enough that no small part of his success could be attributed to the workings of the wife at his side. She wondered what would have motivated the woman to seek her out.
“Yes, I see him often” she offered in response to Elysia’s words pertaining to the Master of Secrets, adding a “I haven’t seen him today though” in case the woman was searching for him. But it appeared not as the conversation continued, and Vasia let out a quiet chuckle at the observation that the other made.
“You are kind to me I think. Unless it were to be a painting depicting intense concentration and an unflattering creased brow!”
She was smiling but it was a little guarded still, and Vasia glanced down towards the unfurled scroll before at Elysia’s question, and sketched a finger over the script there. Opening her mouth to reply, she stopped herself when there was an obvious shushing from across the expanse of the library, not aimed at them but still a reminder to keep her voice low as she did answer. “ It is some new writings on cosmology, and terribly complicated, hence me probably looking as if I was trying to read Coptic backwards. But fascinating all the same.”
She gave a brief, close lipped smile, not being familiar enough with the text to offer up any more on it just then and thinking that really that was not what had drawn Elysia to strike up a conversation with her. Perhaps she really was just looking for her husband?
“As I said, I haven’t seen him at all today” Vasia replied quietly “ Though he does have a rather alarming ability to appear from seemingly nowhere. It must be most unsettling to live with the man” She was mostly joking, though Cicero of Athenia was most definitely a man with a certain set of skills that made him very good at his job, and that in itself was enough to give her a slight unease about the man, despite what seemed a personable nature. And Vasia most certainly wasn't one to underestimate her fellow women either, so Elysia was deserving of respect despite her more humble birth.
At the suggestion that she might be immortalised in stone, Vasia shook her head. “I’m quite sure I do not have the patience to sit for such a thing, though you are very sweet. Nor would any sculptor wish to listen to me complain about such idleness. I’m sure that there are those much better suited to it than me.” The blonde raised finely arched brows “ Perhaps it is a thing you should entertain yourself? If it is an interest, my Aunt probably knows sculptors who would be delighted, as you say, to spend so many hours staring at a feminine form.” There was a little roll of her eyes before Vasia asked “ Was it something important you needed Master Cicero for? He sometimes is found in the gallery.”
She left the words hanging, her eyes darting down towards the scroll she had been reading and back up again. “Of course, you are welcome to join me if you wanted to read?”
Vasia was perhaps not thrilled to have been interrupted, but now her attention had been drawn away from her reading, she focused it all on the brunette woman before her. Elysia was known well enough to the Antonis woman, her husband held an important position in Athenia, and Vasia knew well enough that no small part of his success could be attributed to the workings of the wife at his side. She wondered what would have motivated the woman to seek her out.
“Yes, I see him often” she offered in response to Elysia’s words pertaining to the Master of Secrets, adding a “I haven’t seen him today though” in case the woman was searching for him. But it appeared not as the conversation continued, and Vasia let out a quiet chuckle at the observation that the other made.
“You are kind to me I think. Unless it were to be a painting depicting intense concentration and an unflattering creased brow!”
She was smiling but it was a little guarded still, and Vasia glanced down towards the unfurled scroll before at Elysia’s question, and sketched a finger over the script there. Opening her mouth to reply, she stopped herself when there was an obvious shushing from across the expanse of the library, not aimed at them but still a reminder to keep her voice low as she did answer. “ It is some new writings on cosmology, and terribly complicated, hence me probably looking as if I was trying to read Coptic backwards. But fascinating all the same.”
She gave a brief, close lipped smile, not being familiar enough with the text to offer up any more on it just then and thinking that really that was not what had drawn Elysia to strike up a conversation with her. Perhaps she really was just looking for her husband?
“As I said, I haven’t seen him at all today” Vasia replied quietly “ Though he does have a rather alarming ability to appear from seemingly nowhere. It must be most unsettling to live with the man” She was mostly joking, though Cicero of Athenia was most definitely a man with a certain set of skills that made him very good at his job, and that in itself was enough to give her a slight unease about the man, despite what seemed a personable nature. And Vasia most certainly wasn't one to underestimate her fellow women either, so Elysia was deserving of respect despite her more humble birth.
At the suggestion that she might be immortalised in stone, Vasia shook her head. “I’m quite sure I do not have the patience to sit for such a thing, though you are very sweet. Nor would any sculptor wish to listen to me complain about such idleness. I’m sure that there are those much better suited to it than me.” The blonde raised finely arched brows “ Perhaps it is a thing you should entertain yourself? If it is an interest, my Aunt probably knows sculptors who would be delighted, as you say, to spend so many hours staring at a feminine form.” There was a little roll of her eyes before Vasia asked “ Was it something important you needed Master Cicero for? He sometimes is found in the gallery.”
She left the words hanging, her eyes darting down towards the scroll she had been reading and back up again. “Of course, you are welcome to join me if you wanted to read?”
The introduction of the subject of Cicero had really only been a way to strike up a conversation. Elysia would have been surprised if Vasia knew of her husband’s precise location at that very moment. And obviously would have followed up with the question of ‘why’ she knew that. But, as the conversation moved away from Cicero and onto Vasia herself, Elysia allowed a small, interested smile to play about her lips as she listened to Lady Vasia demurely attempt to get out of the compliment. It was cute.
“You are kind to me I think. Unless it were to be a painting depicting intense concentration and an unflattering creased brow!”
“I am kind,” Elysia agreed. “But not without merit, I flatter myself. Intense concentration becomes you. You take on a certain hardness to your features which lends an air of confidence. Confidence is attractive,” she smiled and drew nearer in order to look down at the paper as Vasia offered up her vague explanation of what it was she was reading.
“Cosmology?” She lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head. “What a subject!” But it was one she, herself, was not at all interested in. Why did one need to know about the beginning of the universe? The titans were there, of course, and brought everything into being. From there, Zeus and the other Olympians. It was almost sacrilegious to be studying this, but she thought it brave of Vasia, all the same. “I subscribe to the old ways, myself,” she tapped her own chest, right under her clavicle as she thought. Her eyes stayed on the paper, rather than on Vasia as she spoke. “Safer, I find.”
The very thought that their world was not in the hands of gods and left in the hands of…...nothing? That was dizzyingly awful to contemplate. She wasn’t completely ruling it out, of course. That would be silly, and Elysia did not want to be silly, but she was willing to find answers when they presented themselves. Thus far, she’d found more evidence of gods tampering with things than not.
How else was one to explain the existence of spiders? Disgusting.
“As I said, I haven’t seen him at all today. Though he does have a rather alarming ability to appear from seemingly nowhere. It must be most unsettling to live with the man.”
“I find it quite the reverse,” Elysia gently countered, unwilling not to present the most united of fronts, even if Cicero would never know. “I rarely have to find him. He appears when I need and if I don’t need him, there’s generally a reason he’s there. I prefer him as a companion,” she press her lips together the smallest bit and added, “He’s intriguing and I love nothing so much as puzzles. Now I have a man I can attempt to figure out for the rest of my life. He’s quite perfect in that way.”
To the sculpture comment, Vasia, again, demurred that she could never, which was something that made Elysia smile thinly. Never was a long time. Again, she did not debate the point, more because the comments were passing and not something she felt overly strongly about either way, though when Vasia suggested that maybe she was better suited and it was evident that this was not a compliment. “I thank you,” she said with a nod of her head. “If you happen to think of it while in your aunt’s presence, do have her send me a list.” Perhaps she’d have herself statued across all of Athenia. Maybe model herself after Aphrodite. She’d see what sort of insult she’d get then.
“Was it something important you needed Master Cicero for? He sometimes is found in the gallery.” Vasia said, and then added, it sounded a little unwillfully, “Of course, you are welcome to join me if you wanted to read?”
Elysia laughed softly. “I wouldn’t dream of boring you with the details of what I needed with Master Cicero. And I would not wish to interrupt your repose, either, on such a serious subject, my lady.” She dipped into a curtsey that befitted Vasia’s station and smiled. “Please, continue with your intellectual pursuits. Good day!” That said, Elysia left the library before she lost her temper. It seemed that she would need to speak to Vasia of Antonis a little more often than she had been. The woman was insufferable and she wanted to know why.
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The introduction of the subject of Cicero had really only been a way to strike up a conversation. Elysia would have been surprised if Vasia knew of her husband’s precise location at that very moment. And obviously would have followed up with the question of ‘why’ she knew that. But, as the conversation moved away from Cicero and onto Vasia herself, Elysia allowed a small, interested smile to play about her lips as she listened to Lady Vasia demurely attempt to get out of the compliment. It was cute.
“You are kind to me I think. Unless it were to be a painting depicting intense concentration and an unflattering creased brow!”
“I am kind,” Elysia agreed. “But not without merit, I flatter myself. Intense concentration becomes you. You take on a certain hardness to your features which lends an air of confidence. Confidence is attractive,” she smiled and drew nearer in order to look down at the paper as Vasia offered up her vague explanation of what it was she was reading.
“Cosmology?” She lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head. “What a subject!” But it was one she, herself, was not at all interested in. Why did one need to know about the beginning of the universe? The titans were there, of course, and brought everything into being. From there, Zeus and the other Olympians. It was almost sacrilegious to be studying this, but she thought it brave of Vasia, all the same. “I subscribe to the old ways, myself,” she tapped her own chest, right under her clavicle as she thought. Her eyes stayed on the paper, rather than on Vasia as she spoke. “Safer, I find.”
The very thought that their world was not in the hands of gods and left in the hands of…...nothing? That was dizzyingly awful to contemplate. She wasn’t completely ruling it out, of course. That would be silly, and Elysia did not want to be silly, but she was willing to find answers when they presented themselves. Thus far, she’d found more evidence of gods tampering with things than not.
How else was one to explain the existence of spiders? Disgusting.
“As I said, I haven’t seen him at all today. Though he does have a rather alarming ability to appear from seemingly nowhere. It must be most unsettling to live with the man.”
“I find it quite the reverse,” Elysia gently countered, unwilling not to present the most united of fronts, even if Cicero would never know. “I rarely have to find him. He appears when I need and if I don’t need him, there’s generally a reason he’s there. I prefer him as a companion,” she press her lips together the smallest bit and added, “He’s intriguing and I love nothing so much as puzzles. Now I have a man I can attempt to figure out for the rest of my life. He’s quite perfect in that way.”
To the sculpture comment, Vasia, again, demurred that she could never, which was something that made Elysia smile thinly. Never was a long time. Again, she did not debate the point, more because the comments were passing and not something she felt overly strongly about either way, though when Vasia suggested that maybe she was better suited and it was evident that this was not a compliment. “I thank you,” she said with a nod of her head. “If you happen to think of it while in your aunt’s presence, do have her send me a list.” Perhaps she’d have herself statued across all of Athenia. Maybe model herself after Aphrodite. She’d see what sort of insult she’d get then.
“Was it something important you needed Master Cicero for? He sometimes is found in the gallery.” Vasia said, and then added, it sounded a little unwillfully, “Of course, you are welcome to join me if you wanted to read?”
Elysia laughed softly. “I wouldn’t dream of boring you with the details of what I needed with Master Cicero. And I would not wish to interrupt your repose, either, on such a serious subject, my lady.” She dipped into a curtsey that befitted Vasia’s station and smiled. “Please, continue with your intellectual pursuits. Good day!” That said, Elysia left the library before she lost her temper. It seemed that she would need to speak to Vasia of Antonis a little more often than she had been. The woman was insufferable and she wanted to know why.
The introduction of the subject of Cicero had really only been a way to strike up a conversation. Elysia would have been surprised if Vasia knew of her husband’s precise location at that very moment. And obviously would have followed up with the question of ‘why’ she knew that. But, as the conversation moved away from Cicero and onto Vasia herself, Elysia allowed a small, interested smile to play about her lips as she listened to Lady Vasia demurely attempt to get out of the compliment. It was cute.
“You are kind to me I think. Unless it were to be a painting depicting intense concentration and an unflattering creased brow!”
“I am kind,” Elysia agreed. “But not without merit, I flatter myself. Intense concentration becomes you. You take on a certain hardness to your features which lends an air of confidence. Confidence is attractive,” she smiled and drew nearer in order to look down at the paper as Vasia offered up her vague explanation of what it was she was reading.
“Cosmology?” She lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head. “What a subject!” But it was one she, herself, was not at all interested in. Why did one need to know about the beginning of the universe? The titans were there, of course, and brought everything into being. From there, Zeus and the other Olympians. It was almost sacrilegious to be studying this, but she thought it brave of Vasia, all the same. “I subscribe to the old ways, myself,” she tapped her own chest, right under her clavicle as she thought. Her eyes stayed on the paper, rather than on Vasia as she spoke. “Safer, I find.”
The very thought that their world was not in the hands of gods and left in the hands of…...nothing? That was dizzyingly awful to contemplate. She wasn’t completely ruling it out, of course. That would be silly, and Elysia did not want to be silly, but she was willing to find answers when they presented themselves. Thus far, she’d found more evidence of gods tampering with things than not.
How else was one to explain the existence of spiders? Disgusting.
“As I said, I haven’t seen him at all today. Though he does have a rather alarming ability to appear from seemingly nowhere. It must be most unsettling to live with the man.”
“I find it quite the reverse,” Elysia gently countered, unwilling not to present the most united of fronts, even if Cicero would never know. “I rarely have to find him. He appears when I need and if I don’t need him, there’s generally a reason he’s there. I prefer him as a companion,” she press her lips together the smallest bit and added, “He’s intriguing and I love nothing so much as puzzles. Now I have a man I can attempt to figure out for the rest of my life. He’s quite perfect in that way.”
To the sculpture comment, Vasia, again, demurred that she could never, which was something that made Elysia smile thinly. Never was a long time. Again, she did not debate the point, more because the comments were passing and not something she felt overly strongly about either way, though when Vasia suggested that maybe she was better suited and it was evident that this was not a compliment. “I thank you,” she said with a nod of her head. “If you happen to think of it while in your aunt’s presence, do have her send me a list.” Perhaps she’d have herself statued across all of Athenia. Maybe model herself after Aphrodite. She’d see what sort of insult she’d get then.
“Was it something important you needed Master Cicero for? He sometimes is found in the gallery.” Vasia said, and then added, it sounded a little unwillfully, “Of course, you are welcome to join me if you wanted to read?”
Elysia laughed softly. “I wouldn’t dream of boring you with the details of what I needed with Master Cicero. And I would not wish to interrupt your repose, either, on such a serious subject, my lady.” She dipped into a curtsey that befitted Vasia’s station and smiled. “Please, continue with your intellectual pursuits. Good day!” That said, Elysia left the library before she lost her temper. It seemed that she would need to speak to Vasia of Antonis a little more often than she had been. The woman was insufferable and she wanted to know why.
Vasia gave a bland sort of smile in return for what she thought was a compliment, her gaze resting steadily on Elysia on a moment before she tilted her head. “If you say so. On that we can agree anyway, I am a great believer in confidence being an attractive quality. There are too few of us women who embrace the fact though.
When the brunette turned her attention to the scroll, the Antonis woman gave a small shrug. “Of course I would see the tales of our Gods replaced” she was quick to reassure “But there is something intriguing about the study of stars dont you think? What else might be up there. How far it is?” But she could see that Elysia’s interests did not lie in the writings and so did not try and force her enthusiasm on the other woman.
And she did not have to encourage Elysia’s enthusiasm for her husband it seemed, and somehow that made Vasia like her more. The Master of Secrets was not the easiest of men to decipher, but it appeared a match well made between the two of them. She was half-hoping the other woman might take the cue and leave but it appeared Elysia wanted to linger for some reason so Vasia found herself making smalltalk about sitting for sculptures, and though she tried to deflect the compliment back towards the other woman again she somehow felt she’d been clumsy in it which was frustrating.
Her thoughts were still on the words she'd been digesting, clearly.
The blonde woman could allow herself a little relief then, when Elysia seemed to catch on to the subtle clues she was giving that she was not in the most chatty of moods, and excused herself quite abruptly. Vasia nodded and wished the woman well in finding her husband, watching her depart with a slight frown before she returned to her reading.
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Vasia gave a bland sort of smile in return for what she thought was a compliment, her gaze resting steadily on Elysia on a moment before she tilted her head. “If you say so. On that we can agree anyway, I am a great believer in confidence being an attractive quality. There are too few of us women who embrace the fact though.
When the brunette turned her attention to the scroll, the Antonis woman gave a small shrug. “Of course I would see the tales of our Gods replaced” she was quick to reassure “But there is something intriguing about the study of stars dont you think? What else might be up there. How far it is?” But she could see that Elysia’s interests did not lie in the writings and so did not try and force her enthusiasm on the other woman.
And she did not have to encourage Elysia’s enthusiasm for her husband it seemed, and somehow that made Vasia like her more. The Master of Secrets was not the easiest of men to decipher, but it appeared a match well made between the two of them. She was half-hoping the other woman might take the cue and leave but it appeared Elysia wanted to linger for some reason so Vasia found herself making smalltalk about sitting for sculptures, and though she tried to deflect the compliment back towards the other woman again she somehow felt she’d been clumsy in it which was frustrating.
Her thoughts were still on the words she'd been digesting, clearly.
The blonde woman could allow herself a little relief then, when Elysia seemed to catch on to the subtle clues she was giving that she was not in the most chatty of moods, and excused herself quite abruptly. Vasia nodded and wished the woman well in finding her husband, watching her depart with a slight frown before she returned to her reading.
Vasia gave a bland sort of smile in return for what she thought was a compliment, her gaze resting steadily on Elysia on a moment before she tilted her head. “If you say so. On that we can agree anyway, I am a great believer in confidence being an attractive quality. There are too few of us women who embrace the fact though.
When the brunette turned her attention to the scroll, the Antonis woman gave a small shrug. “Of course I would see the tales of our Gods replaced” she was quick to reassure “But there is something intriguing about the study of stars dont you think? What else might be up there. How far it is?” But she could see that Elysia’s interests did not lie in the writings and so did not try and force her enthusiasm on the other woman.
And she did not have to encourage Elysia’s enthusiasm for her husband it seemed, and somehow that made Vasia like her more. The Master of Secrets was not the easiest of men to decipher, but it appeared a match well made between the two of them. She was half-hoping the other woman might take the cue and leave but it appeared Elysia wanted to linger for some reason so Vasia found herself making smalltalk about sitting for sculptures, and though she tried to deflect the compliment back towards the other woman again she somehow felt she’d been clumsy in it which was frustrating.
Her thoughts were still on the words she'd been digesting, clearly.
The blonde woman could allow herself a little relief then, when Elysia seemed to catch on to the subtle clues she was giving that she was not in the most chatty of moods, and excused herself quite abruptly. Vasia nodded and wished the woman well in finding her husband, watching her depart with a slight frown before she returned to her reading.