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She had been reeling a little after her conversation with Vangelis. So much was settled, and yet everything felt as if it was still out of her hands. Selene would stay with the Kotas family for the duration of the war, which had been her hope. After all, it was where she felt the safest. And if she could get a heads up on what her responsibilities would be as princess and queen, she saw no reason to delay that. Her sister would remain here, and that was enough of a reason for her to stay at her side (even if things between them were uncertain). Perhaps, if nothing else, she would be able to convince her sister that she would have an ally in her husband in the quest to retake the throne.
As long as it didn’t involve harm to Theo and Achilleas, at least.
Either way, she was at least glad to know where she would be. She had never felt more safe than she did within these walls, and she was hopeful that it wouldn’t change with Vangelis’s absense. After all, the stony island would not be without protection. There was a comfort in that, too.
Still, there was much that wasn’t certain-- like the return of her betrothed. She hadn’t been lying when she said that she would rather wait here for news than at home. Under the Kotas roof, she figured that anything that happened would be more likely to be heard first there, rather than having to wait until word could be sent to her back home. And if he did perish, she wanted nothing more than to find closure on the shores of Colchis, then head back home to reevaluate her life. But the idea that he would not return at all was keeping her up.
She knew she was resilient enough to wait (how long had she been unmarried?), but it did not mean that she would not lose sleep over it. And it appeared that tonight was going to be the first of many nights where she found herself unable to calm her mind enough to sleep. Perhaps it would get easier, and perhaps she could speak to Queen Yanni about it once the men had left. Some guidance on how to manage it would do her good. But tonight, as the moon rose high in the sky, there was little she could do.
She found that the small meal she had shared with Vangelis in the library earlier that evening was all but gone, causing further discomfort. Rising from bed, she debating calling for Jo, but knew the girl to be abed as well. And there was no reason to wake her. Instead, she pulled the long, heavy himation that had belonged to Vangelis (which she still had selfishly yet to return) and wrapped it tightly around her body for both warmth and decency. A thin pair of sandals slipped onto her feet as she left her room, Selene took extra care to be quiet as she moved through the halls.
Stepping into the kitchens, she was pleased to see it was still warm, as the hour was not so late that the fires would have completely died down. Her mission to find a little something to eat and drink made her blind to the figure already in front of the fire. If she had realized that it was the King, she probably would have left the room to give him his peace. But instead, she was searching for the sweet rolls that had been served with dinner.
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She had been reeling a little after her conversation with Vangelis. So much was settled, and yet everything felt as if it was still out of her hands. Selene would stay with the Kotas family for the duration of the war, which had been her hope. After all, it was where she felt the safest. And if she could get a heads up on what her responsibilities would be as princess and queen, she saw no reason to delay that. Her sister would remain here, and that was enough of a reason for her to stay at her side (even if things between them were uncertain). Perhaps, if nothing else, she would be able to convince her sister that she would have an ally in her husband in the quest to retake the throne.
As long as it didn’t involve harm to Theo and Achilleas, at least.
Either way, she was at least glad to know where she would be. She had never felt more safe than she did within these walls, and she was hopeful that it wouldn’t change with Vangelis’s absense. After all, the stony island would not be without protection. There was a comfort in that, too.
Still, there was much that wasn’t certain-- like the return of her betrothed. She hadn’t been lying when she said that she would rather wait here for news than at home. Under the Kotas roof, she figured that anything that happened would be more likely to be heard first there, rather than having to wait until word could be sent to her back home. And if he did perish, she wanted nothing more than to find closure on the shores of Colchis, then head back home to reevaluate her life. But the idea that he would not return at all was keeping her up.
She knew she was resilient enough to wait (how long had she been unmarried?), but it did not mean that she would not lose sleep over it. And it appeared that tonight was going to be the first of many nights where she found herself unable to calm her mind enough to sleep. Perhaps it would get easier, and perhaps she could speak to Queen Yanni about it once the men had left. Some guidance on how to manage it would do her good. But tonight, as the moon rose high in the sky, there was little she could do.
She found that the small meal she had shared with Vangelis in the library earlier that evening was all but gone, causing further discomfort. Rising from bed, she debating calling for Jo, but knew the girl to be abed as well. And there was no reason to wake her. Instead, she pulled the long, heavy himation that had belonged to Vangelis (which she still had selfishly yet to return) and wrapped it tightly around her body for both warmth and decency. A thin pair of sandals slipped onto her feet as she left her room, Selene took extra care to be quiet as she moved through the halls.
Stepping into the kitchens, she was pleased to see it was still warm, as the hour was not so late that the fires would have completely died down. Her mission to find a little something to eat and drink made her blind to the figure already in front of the fire. If she had realized that it was the King, she probably would have left the room to give him his peace. But instead, she was searching for the sweet rolls that had been served with dinner.
She had been reeling a little after her conversation with Vangelis. So much was settled, and yet everything felt as if it was still out of her hands. Selene would stay with the Kotas family for the duration of the war, which had been her hope. After all, it was where she felt the safest. And if she could get a heads up on what her responsibilities would be as princess and queen, she saw no reason to delay that. Her sister would remain here, and that was enough of a reason for her to stay at her side (even if things between them were uncertain). Perhaps, if nothing else, she would be able to convince her sister that she would have an ally in her husband in the quest to retake the throne.
As long as it didn’t involve harm to Theo and Achilleas, at least.
Either way, she was at least glad to know where she would be. She had never felt more safe than she did within these walls, and she was hopeful that it wouldn’t change with Vangelis’s absense. After all, the stony island would not be without protection. There was a comfort in that, too.
Still, there was much that wasn’t certain-- like the return of her betrothed. She hadn’t been lying when she said that she would rather wait here for news than at home. Under the Kotas roof, she figured that anything that happened would be more likely to be heard first there, rather than having to wait until word could be sent to her back home. And if he did perish, she wanted nothing more than to find closure on the shores of Colchis, then head back home to reevaluate her life. But the idea that he would not return at all was keeping her up.
She knew she was resilient enough to wait (how long had she been unmarried?), but it did not mean that she would not lose sleep over it. And it appeared that tonight was going to be the first of many nights where she found herself unable to calm her mind enough to sleep. Perhaps it would get easier, and perhaps she could speak to Queen Yanni about it once the men had left. Some guidance on how to manage it would do her good. But tonight, as the moon rose high in the sky, there was little she could do.
She found that the small meal she had shared with Vangelis in the library earlier that evening was all but gone, causing further discomfort. Rising from bed, she debating calling for Jo, but knew the girl to be abed as well. And there was no reason to wake her. Instead, she pulled the long, heavy himation that had belonged to Vangelis (which she still had selfishly yet to return) and wrapped it tightly around her body for both warmth and decency. A thin pair of sandals slipped onto her feet as she left her room, Selene took extra care to be quiet as she moved through the halls.
Stepping into the kitchens, she was pleased to see it was still warm, as the hour was not so late that the fires would have completely died down. Her mission to find a little something to eat and drink made her blind to the figure already in front of the fire. If she had realized that it was the King, she probably would have left the room to give him his peace. But instead, she was searching for the sweet rolls that had been served with dinner.
Tython often struggled to find sleep when he came home from a campaign. Even the calming presence of Yanni did not always soothe him, but to come home from one war and land directly into another was the only thing on his mind. Such thoughts left him needing a quiet respite from questions and expectant looks. Tython had yet to yield anything of what had come upon him and the troops while on their last excursion and that much was purposeful. The man would tell it in his own time; specifically when his own thoughts had sorted themselves out about the best way to approach such a subject. No amount of prodding would see him speaking his mind until he was good and ready. His family, at least, was used to such behavior from him.
His people, his visitors? Not so much.
With an overactive mind and a mild ache in his bones from the cold that was starting to seep into the Panamos weather, Tython soon found himself out of bed, moving as slowly as possible so as to not wake his wife. He dressed in a generic chiton with a heavy himation wrapped around him for further warmth. Though he was a little cold, he still opted for his sandals, trailing through the darkened halls of his home. The home that he had lived in for the entirety of his life. There had been multiple points throughout his life that Tython had been afeared that he would never see this place, nor his family again. It was like a breath of relief to be here again.
At least his family had been saved the true grief of never having seen him again. His only fear now was going to war and meeting a fate that had been chasing him down since he had riden out on his first war campaign with his own father. Tython was only more glad that all of his sons had also avoided such a tragic fate, as Kotas men often did. He did not know whether that was a blessing or a curse, but at least they all still had their lives ahead of them.
That was all the father of five could ever truly ask for.
Knowing that the kitchens would be one of the warmest rooms in the manor even at this time of night, Tython had settled down in the large chamber, pulling up a stool close to the fire pit and starting the fire once more after the cook had doused it earlier. Focused on finding a bit more warmth at first, the King eventually reached for a small bit of wood from the bundle of logs close to the fire before searching the kitchens for a small knife that was sharp enough to carve at the wood in his hand. Then, Tython had just settled there, warm by the fire and focused on whittling instead of anything that was on his mind.
The King had to bite back his sheer amusement at noting that one of their guests, Lady Selene of Leventi, did not initially notice him when she entered the kitchens in search for food later into the night. By then, Tython had had the basic shape of an owl carved in his hands, though it had no detail at all just yet. His gaze was far too fixated on the young blonde for him to continue to focus on his craft.
Wanting to leave her to her peace for a few moments longer, Tython did not speak until Selene had been searching for food for at least a few minutes. Then, the man cleared his throat by the fire, lifting a think eyebrow. "Is there something that I could help you with, Lady Leventi? Should I perhaps call the cook to prepare you a light meal?"
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Tython often struggled to find sleep when he came home from a campaign. Even the calming presence of Yanni did not always soothe him, but to come home from one war and land directly into another was the only thing on his mind. Such thoughts left him needing a quiet respite from questions and expectant looks. Tython had yet to yield anything of what had come upon him and the troops while on their last excursion and that much was purposeful. The man would tell it in his own time; specifically when his own thoughts had sorted themselves out about the best way to approach such a subject. No amount of prodding would see him speaking his mind until he was good and ready. His family, at least, was used to such behavior from him.
His people, his visitors? Not so much.
With an overactive mind and a mild ache in his bones from the cold that was starting to seep into the Panamos weather, Tython soon found himself out of bed, moving as slowly as possible so as to not wake his wife. He dressed in a generic chiton with a heavy himation wrapped around him for further warmth. Though he was a little cold, he still opted for his sandals, trailing through the darkened halls of his home. The home that he had lived in for the entirety of his life. There had been multiple points throughout his life that Tython had been afeared that he would never see this place, nor his family again. It was like a breath of relief to be here again.
At least his family had been saved the true grief of never having seen him again. His only fear now was going to war and meeting a fate that had been chasing him down since he had riden out on his first war campaign with his own father. Tython was only more glad that all of his sons had also avoided such a tragic fate, as Kotas men often did. He did not know whether that was a blessing or a curse, but at least they all still had their lives ahead of them.
That was all the father of five could ever truly ask for.
Knowing that the kitchens would be one of the warmest rooms in the manor even at this time of night, Tython had settled down in the large chamber, pulling up a stool close to the fire pit and starting the fire once more after the cook had doused it earlier. Focused on finding a bit more warmth at first, the King eventually reached for a small bit of wood from the bundle of logs close to the fire before searching the kitchens for a small knife that was sharp enough to carve at the wood in his hand. Then, Tython had just settled there, warm by the fire and focused on whittling instead of anything that was on his mind.
The King had to bite back his sheer amusement at noting that one of their guests, Lady Selene of Leventi, did not initially notice him when she entered the kitchens in search for food later into the night. By then, Tython had had the basic shape of an owl carved in his hands, though it had no detail at all just yet. His gaze was far too fixated on the young blonde for him to continue to focus on his craft.
Wanting to leave her to her peace for a few moments longer, Tython did not speak until Selene had been searching for food for at least a few minutes. Then, the man cleared his throat by the fire, lifting a think eyebrow. "Is there something that I could help you with, Lady Leventi? Should I perhaps call the cook to prepare you a light meal?"
Tython often struggled to find sleep when he came home from a campaign. Even the calming presence of Yanni did not always soothe him, but to come home from one war and land directly into another was the only thing on his mind. Such thoughts left him needing a quiet respite from questions and expectant looks. Tython had yet to yield anything of what had come upon him and the troops while on their last excursion and that much was purposeful. The man would tell it in his own time; specifically when his own thoughts had sorted themselves out about the best way to approach such a subject. No amount of prodding would see him speaking his mind until he was good and ready. His family, at least, was used to such behavior from him.
His people, his visitors? Not so much.
With an overactive mind and a mild ache in his bones from the cold that was starting to seep into the Panamos weather, Tython soon found himself out of bed, moving as slowly as possible so as to not wake his wife. He dressed in a generic chiton with a heavy himation wrapped around him for further warmth. Though he was a little cold, he still opted for his sandals, trailing through the darkened halls of his home. The home that he had lived in for the entirety of his life. There had been multiple points throughout his life that Tython had been afeared that he would never see this place, nor his family again. It was like a breath of relief to be here again.
At least his family had been saved the true grief of never having seen him again. His only fear now was going to war and meeting a fate that had been chasing him down since he had riden out on his first war campaign with his own father. Tython was only more glad that all of his sons had also avoided such a tragic fate, as Kotas men often did. He did not know whether that was a blessing or a curse, but at least they all still had their lives ahead of them.
That was all the father of five could ever truly ask for.
Knowing that the kitchens would be one of the warmest rooms in the manor even at this time of night, Tython had settled down in the large chamber, pulling up a stool close to the fire pit and starting the fire once more after the cook had doused it earlier. Focused on finding a bit more warmth at first, the King eventually reached for a small bit of wood from the bundle of logs close to the fire before searching the kitchens for a small knife that was sharp enough to carve at the wood in his hand. Then, Tython had just settled there, warm by the fire and focused on whittling instead of anything that was on his mind.
The King had to bite back his sheer amusement at noting that one of their guests, Lady Selene of Leventi, did not initially notice him when she entered the kitchens in search for food later into the night. By then, Tython had had the basic shape of an owl carved in his hands, though it had no detail at all just yet. His gaze was far too fixated on the young blonde for him to continue to focus on his craft.
Wanting to leave her to her peace for a few moments longer, Tython did not speak until Selene had been searching for food for at least a few minutes. Then, the man cleared his throat by the fire, lifting a think eyebrow. "Is there something that I could help you with, Lady Leventi? Should I perhaps call the cook to prepare you a light meal?"
The longer she found herself poking around the kitchen, the quicker she realized that she should have just called on one of the slaves to bring her something to eat. If she had done that, she thought to herself, she would have already had a roll with some warm goat’s milk and would have been closer to sleep than she was now. In all her desires to be considerate to the staff, she ended up just keeping herself up longer.
She was lifting up the lid of a crock that should, in most households, contain butter, when the deep timbre of a male voice caught her by surprise. Had the lid been any higher from the base, it may have broken as she dropped it from shock. Luckily for her, the sound of the two pieces of clay coming together was much softer than it sounded in her ears. Heat covering her face, she turned to face a familiar yet new face.
King Tython was a handsome man, and she could tell that he had been incredibly attractive in his youth. Dark hair, deep set eyes that seemed to hold a patient look within them, Selene couldn’t help but warm at glimpse into her own future. If Vangelis aged like this man did, she would spend her years with a very captivating man indeed. Even the gentle salt and pepper of his hair, firelight casting shadows to accent the contrasts, was a cost of age she couldn’t help but appreciate. Perhaps the Gods favored the Kotas men, she reasoned, knowing just how close to death they seemed to come.
Pulling the himation closer to her body (and hoping that he didn’t think twice about its origin) she bowed her head and dipped her knees in a bow, ”Your Majesty…” She stuttered softly, obviously a bit taken back by his presence in the kitchens. ”My apologies.” She knew how she must have looked, scouring the kitchens as if she a beggar after scraps instead of a welcomed guest in their house. ”I thought the house was sleeping and did not wish to bother any one.”
She let thick himation loosen around her shoulders. ”I did not mean to disturb you.” She stepped out from the large island in the middle of the kitchen, moving a bit closer to the fire, to get a better view of what the King was hunched over. The small pile of wood shavings on the floor made it obvious that he was doing something with the knife in his hands, but she didn’t pry. ”Perhaps you may just point me towards the sweet rolls, if there are any left from dinner, then I can be out of your hair.” She stopped herself for a moment, curious as to what would have brought him from his bed to the kitchens.
He was obviously in search of a quiet moment, where his wife would not be awakened by his own busy mind. And while she may not have known him long, the amused look on his face made her smile, unable to truly be ashamed of her journey. ”Unless you wish a little company, then I would offer to make you a plate as well.” Selene’s eyes danced in the firelight, hoping the man would not be offended by her offer. And, in turn, she hoped that he knew that she would not take it personally if he preferred for her to be on her way.
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The longer she found herself poking around the kitchen, the quicker she realized that she should have just called on one of the slaves to bring her something to eat. If she had done that, she thought to herself, she would have already had a roll with some warm goat’s milk and would have been closer to sleep than she was now. In all her desires to be considerate to the staff, she ended up just keeping herself up longer.
She was lifting up the lid of a crock that should, in most households, contain butter, when the deep timbre of a male voice caught her by surprise. Had the lid been any higher from the base, it may have broken as she dropped it from shock. Luckily for her, the sound of the two pieces of clay coming together was much softer than it sounded in her ears. Heat covering her face, she turned to face a familiar yet new face.
King Tython was a handsome man, and she could tell that he had been incredibly attractive in his youth. Dark hair, deep set eyes that seemed to hold a patient look within them, Selene couldn’t help but warm at glimpse into her own future. If Vangelis aged like this man did, she would spend her years with a very captivating man indeed. Even the gentle salt and pepper of his hair, firelight casting shadows to accent the contrasts, was a cost of age she couldn’t help but appreciate. Perhaps the Gods favored the Kotas men, she reasoned, knowing just how close to death they seemed to come.
Pulling the himation closer to her body (and hoping that he didn’t think twice about its origin) she bowed her head and dipped her knees in a bow, ”Your Majesty…” She stuttered softly, obviously a bit taken back by his presence in the kitchens. ”My apologies.” She knew how she must have looked, scouring the kitchens as if she a beggar after scraps instead of a welcomed guest in their house. ”I thought the house was sleeping and did not wish to bother any one.”
She let thick himation loosen around her shoulders. ”I did not mean to disturb you.” She stepped out from the large island in the middle of the kitchen, moving a bit closer to the fire, to get a better view of what the King was hunched over. The small pile of wood shavings on the floor made it obvious that he was doing something with the knife in his hands, but she didn’t pry. ”Perhaps you may just point me towards the sweet rolls, if there are any left from dinner, then I can be out of your hair.” She stopped herself for a moment, curious as to what would have brought him from his bed to the kitchens.
He was obviously in search of a quiet moment, where his wife would not be awakened by his own busy mind. And while she may not have known him long, the amused look on his face made her smile, unable to truly be ashamed of her journey. ”Unless you wish a little company, then I would offer to make you a plate as well.” Selene’s eyes danced in the firelight, hoping the man would not be offended by her offer. And, in turn, she hoped that he knew that she would not take it personally if he preferred for her to be on her way.
The longer she found herself poking around the kitchen, the quicker she realized that she should have just called on one of the slaves to bring her something to eat. If she had done that, she thought to herself, she would have already had a roll with some warm goat’s milk and would have been closer to sleep than she was now. In all her desires to be considerate to the staff, she ended up just keeping herself up longer.
She was lifting up the lid of a crock that should, in most households, contain butter, when the deep timbre of a male voice caught her by surprise. Had the lid been any higher from the base, it may have broken as she dropped it from shock. Luckily for her, the sound of the two pieces of clay coming together was much softer than it sounded in her ears. Heat covering her face, she turned to face a familiar yet new face.
King Tython was a handsome man, and she could tell that he had been incredibly attractive in his youth. Dark hair, deep set eyes that seemed to hold a patient look within them, Selene couldn’t help but warm at glimpse into her own future. If Vangelis aged like this man did, she would spend her years with a very captivating man indeed. Even the gentle salt and pepper of his hair, firelight casting shadows to accent the contrasts, was a cost of age she couldn’t help but appreciate. Perhaps the Gods favored the Kotas men, she reasoned, knowing just how close to death they seemed to come.
Pulling the himation closer to her body (and hoping that he didn’t think twice about its origin) she bowed her head and dipped her knees in a bow, ”Your Majesty…” She stuttered softly, obviously a bit taken back by his presence in the kitchens. ”My apologies.” She knew how she must have looked, scouring the kitchens as if she a beggar after scraps instead of a welcomed guest in their house. ”I thought the house was sleeping and did not wish to bother any one.”
She let thick himation loosen around her shoulders. ”I did not mean to disturb you.” She stepped out from the large island in the middle of the kitchen, moving a bit closer to the fire, to get a better view of what the King was hunched over. The small pile of wood shavings on the floor made it obvious that he was doing something with the knife in his hands, but she didn’t pry. ”Perhaps you may just point me towards the sweet rolls, if there are any left from dinner, then I can be out of your hair.” She stopped herself for a moment, curious as to what would have brought him from his bed to the kitchens.
He was obviously in search of a quiet moment, where his wife would not be awakened by his own busy mind. And while she may not have known him long, the amused look on his face made her smile, unable to truly be ashamed of her journey. ”Unless you wish a little company, then I would offer to make you a plate as well.” Selene’s eyes danced in the firelight, hoping the man would not be offended by her offer. And, in turn, she hoped that he knew that she would not take it personally if he preferred for her to be on her way.
The King couldn't help the very slight, almost snorting laugh that escaped his lips. It was clear that the young Leventi lady was used to sneaking into kitchens for a snack at night in her own home. Admittedly, Tython had one the same when he had been far younger. And the placements of utensils an extra foods had not changed since Queen Kaiti and King Silas ha walked these halls. While this only proved to Tython that he was truly a man of deep habits who liked his things and his house run just so, there had been no reason to change what already worked. To do so would speak to a stark inefficiency in how the kitchens would run.
Especially because one of the cooks for House Kotas had worked here since the previous royals walked the halls and dined at these tables. She was quickly barrelling toward her 70s, but Tython was intent on allowing her to die in thise home. JUst has she had been born in it.
Selene's shock was amusing and Tython let his smirk settle on his features as she spoke quickly, likely sure that she might find trouble if she did not explain herself. Tython was not bothere by the way his guest explored his home. He found reason to encourage it, even. Her question of the location of the sweet rolls had Tython smiling minutely larger in the moment.
"Phoebe, the head cook, hides those," Tython said in a smooth voice, "We never found out which child it was, but one of my brood had a tendency of sneaking down here and eating them all in one sitting," he explained. With his hans braced to his knees, the king pressed himself to his feet and set his wooden project aside on the massive kitchen countertop in the center of the room. "Here," he said lowly, striding across the expanse and reaching up to the highest shelf that held a small wooden crate. He pulled it down and shifted to set it on the counter.
"We know it wasn't Vangelis, at least," Tython's tone took on an almost teasing lily as he lifted the lid of the box. It was lined in cloth and held an abundance of rolls and breads. Motioning to the box, he stepped back, "Take hat you like, but you don't have to leave. I think I would like some company," he admitted, shuffling back to his own seat by the fire.
"I will admit that I'm curious about what has kept your mind so busy this late into the night," he noted, settling back down with his carving. The king started to make the detailing in the body of his wooden owl, curving the blade to start making feathers in the wood.
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The King couldn't help the very slight, almost snorting laugh that escaped his lips. It was clear that the young Leventi lady was used to sneaking into kitchens for a snack at night in her own home. Admittedly, Tython had one the same when he had been far younger. And the placements of utensils an extra foods had not changed since Queen Kaiti and King Silas ha walked these halls. While this only proved to Tython that he was truly a man of deep habits who liked his things and his house run just so, there had been no reason to change what already worked. To do so would speak to a stark inefficiency in how the kitchens would run.
Especially because one of the cooks for House Kotas had worked here since the previous royals walked the halls and dined at these tables. She was quickly barrelling toward her 70s, but Tython was intent on allowing her to die in thise home. JUst has she had been born in it.
Selene's shock was amusing and Tython let his smirk settle on his features as she spoke quickly, likely sure that she might find trouble if she did not explain herself. Tython was not bothere by the way his guest explored his home. He found reason to encourage it, even. Her question of the location of the sweet rolls had Tython smiling minutely larger in the moment.
"Phoebe, the head cook, hides those," Tython said in a smooth voice, "We never found out which child it was, but one of my brood had a tendency of sneaking down here and eating them all in one sitting," he explained. With his hans braced to his knees, the king pressed himself to his feet and set his wooden project aside on the massive kitchen countertop in the center of the room. "Here," he said lowly, striding across the expanse and reaching up to the highest shelf that held a small wooden crate. He pulled it down and shifted to set it on the counter.
"We know it wasn't Vangelis, at least," Tython's tone took on an almost teasing lily as he lifted the lid of the box. It was lined in cloth and held an abundance of rolls and breads. Motioning to the box, he stepped back, "Take hat you like, but you don't have to leave. I think I would like some company," he admitted, shuffling back to his own seat by the fire.
"I will admit that I'm curious about what has kept your mind so busy this late into the night," he noted, settling back down with his carving. The king started to make the detailing in the body of his wooden owl, curving the blade to start making feathers in the wood.
The King couldn't help the very slight, almost snorting laugh that escaped his lips. It was clear that the young Leventi lady was used to sneaking into kitchens for a snack at night in her own home. Admittedly, Tython had one the same when he had been far younger. And the placements of utensils an extra foods had not changed since Queen Kaiti and King Silas ha walked these halls. While this only proved to Tython that he was truly a man of deep habits who liked his things and his house run just so, there had been no reason to change what already worked. To do so would speak to a stark inefficiency in how the kitchens would run.
Especially because one of the cooks for House Kotas had worked here since the previous royals walked the halls and dined at these tables. She was quickly barrelling toward her 70s, but Tython was intent on allowing her to die in thise home. JUst has she had been born in it.
Selene's shock was amusing and Tython let his smirk settle on his features as she spoke quickly, likely sure that she might find trouble if she did not explain herself. Tython was not bothere by the way his guest explored his home. He found reason to encourage it, even. Her question of the location of the sweet rolls had Tython smiling minutely larger in the moment.
"Phoebe, the head cook, hides those," Tython said in a smooth voice, "We never found out which child it was, but one of my brood had a tendency of sneaking down here and eating them all in one sitting," he explained. With his hans braced to his knees, the king pressed himself to his feet and set his wooden project aside on the massive kitchen countertop in the center of the room. "Here," he said lowly, striding across the expanse and reaching up to the highest shelf that held a small wooden crate. He pulled it down and shifted to set it on the counter.
"We know it wasn't Vangelis, at least," Tython's tone took on an almost teasing lily as he lifted the lid of the box. It was lined in cloth and held an abundance of rolls and breads. Motioning to the box, he stepped back, "Take hat you like, but you don't have to leave. I think I would like some company," he admitted, shuffling back to his own seat by the fire.
"I will admit that I'm curious about what has kept your mind so busy this late into the night," he noted, settling back down with his carving. The king started to make the detailing in the body of his wooden owl, curving the blade to start making feathers in the wood.
At the sound of his laughter, Selene’s cheeks flushed even more in embarrassment for her actions. She hadn’t counted on finding him in here, hadn’t counted on being caught red-handed trying to find a roll from the meal she hadn’t been able to take part in. But even the laugh had a very Kotas way about it, not focusing on her but on her actions. She was not being mocked, but simply brought amusement to the man in front of her. And she allowed a sheepish grin to cover her face as he smirked, too.
Perhaps her worry had stemmed from the fact that she still considered herself a guest in this home. Even with the conversation between the pair, Selene still had a difficult time in feeling like her place was here. Yes, she was to marry and be the one to manage the house, but with no date in place, there was little she could do to settle in. She felt a bit out of place, but perhaps it would soon feel more and more like home for her.
She watched with interest as he stood, moving to the grab the box from the highest shelf to reveal the breads within. Her nose scrunched as she realized that she was far too short to be able to reach it on her own. Making a note of the cook’s name, Selene wondered if she would be able to arrange a roll or two sent up to her at night so she wouldn’t have to pull the shelf down in the process of recovering them. ”Yiannis, perhaps. Or Zanon.” She suggested with a bit of mirth in her voice. ”Vangelis would have starved before he tried to sneak an extra roll, I’m sure.” It would have been hard for her to hide the fondness in her voice, and she found herself wondering how much this man knew of her family’s desire for power. Would it color his opinion of her? Would he think she was just pretending to care for his clan, simply so that she could claim the crown?
With the way Vangelis seemed to take things as they were and not as they were assumed, she had to hope that he would not think less of her family’s desires.
The crock of butter was easy to find, and there was no shame in the two rolls that she pulled apart, lathering the set with butter before closing up the box and crock. Placing them onto a spare cloth, she took a seat at the counter, glad that he didn’t seem to mind her company. There was a desire to know the man who would be her father in law, who would be grandfather to her children. Moments like this would be impossible to set up in a time like this, where preparation for war and time with loved ones was far more important than an interview with the house guest. But maybe, just maybe, he wanted to know her, too. After all, she would soon be his daughter. He had appeared to be a man who thought family was the most important thing above all.
The stool she’d chosen was across the table, so she quietly moved it so that she was close to the man while not leaving the surface. Taking a small bite of bread, she watched him for a moment before smiling. ”I could ask you the same thing.” She teased gently, just as surprised to have seen him as she had been to see her. But after her jest, she grew a bit quiet. Gathering her thoughts, she left out the softest sigh as she prepared herself to be a little vulnerable with him. ”When Vangelis did not show up for dinner, I took it upon myself to prepare a small meal for him. We dined within the library, and after much conversation...” she trailed off for a moment, wondering just how much he cared. But with the lack of her own father, it seemed right to turn to him. ”I have much to think about.” She lifted her shoulders in another shrug. ”I am looking forward to becoming a Kotas, and I very much so wish there was time to see it done before the lot of you leave.”
It was not as if she was telling him anything he didn’t know. He was aware that the wedding would not happen until after the war. ”But I am a patient woman, so I will wait and spend precious time with the ones here.” She was trying to look on the bright side, even though it didn’t feel like there was one. ”What about you, Your Majesty? What keeps you from bed?”
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At the sound of his laughter, Selene’s cheeks flushed even more in embarrassment for her actions. She hadn’t counted on finding him in here, hadn’t counted on being caught red-handed trying to find a roll from the meal she hadn’t been able to take part in. But even the laugh had a very Kotas way about it, not focusing on her but on her actions. She was not being mocked, but simply brought amusement to the man in front of her. And she allowed a sheepish grin to cover her face as he smirked, too.
Perhaps her worry had stemmed from the fact that she still considered herself a guest in this home. Even with the conversation between the pair, Selene still had a difficult time in feeling like her place was here. Yes, she was to marry and be the one to manage the house, but with no date in place, there was little she could do to settle in. She felt a bit out of place, but perhaps it would soon feel more and more like home for her.
She watched with interest as he stood, moving to the grab the box from the highest shelf to reveal the breads within. Her nose scrunched as she realized that she was far too short to be able to reach it on her own. Making a note of the cook’s name, Selene wondered if she would be able to arrange a roll or two sent up to her at night so she wouldn’t have to pull the shelf down in the process of recovering them. ”Yiannis, perhaps. Or Zanon.” She suggested with a bit of mirth in her voice. ”Vangelis would have starved before he tried to sneak an extra roll, I’m sure.” It would have been hard for her to hide the fondness in her voice, and she found herself wondering how much this man knew of her family’s desire for power. Would it color his opinion of her? Would he think she was just pretending to care for his clan, simply so that she could claim the crown?
With the way Vangelis seemed to take things as they were and not as they were assumed, she had to hope that he would not think less of her family’s desires.
The crock of butter was easy to find, and there was no shame in the two rolls that she pulled apart, lathering the set with butter before closing up the box and crock. Placing them onto a spare cloth, she took a seat at the counter, glad that he didn’t seem to mind her company. There was a desire to know the man who would be her father in law, who would be grandfather to her children. Moments like this would be impossible to set up in a time like this, where preparation for war and time with loved ones was far more important than an interview with the house guest. But maybe, just maybe, he wanted to know her, too. After all, she would soon be his daughter. He had appeared to be a man who thought family was the most important thing above all.
The stool she’d chosen was across the table, so she quietly moved it so that she was close to the man while not leaving the surface. Taking a small bite of bread, she watched him for a moment before smiling. ”I could ask you the same thing.” She teased gently, just as surprised to have seen him as she had been to see her. But after her jest, she grew a bit quiet. Gathering her thoughts, she left out the softest sigh as she prepared herself to be a little vulnerable with him. ”When Vangelis did not show up for dinner, I took it upon myself to prepare a small meal for him. We dined within the library, and after much conversation...” she trailed off for a moment, wondering just how much he cared. But with the lack of her own father, it seemed right to turn to him. ”I have much to think about.” She lifted her shoulders in another shrug. ”I am looking forward to becoming a Kotas, and I very much so wish there was time to see it done before the lot of you leave.”
It was not as if she was telling him anything he didn’t know. He was aware that the wedding would not happen until after the war. ”But I am a patient woman, so I will wait and spend precious time with the ones here.” She was trying to look on the bright side, even though it didn’t feel like there was one. ”What about you, Your Majesty? What keeps you from bed?”
At the sound of his laughter, Selene’s cheeks flushed even more in embarrassment for her actions. She hadn’t counted on finding him in here, hadn’t counted on being caught red-handed trying to find a roll from the meal she hadn’t been able to take part in. But even the laugh had a very Kotas way about it, not focusing on her but on her actions. She was not being mocked, but simply brought amusement to the man in front of her. And she allowed a sheepish grin to cover her face as he smirked, too.
Perhaps her worry had stemmed from the fact that she still considered herself a guest in this home. Even with the conversation between the pair, Selene still had a difficult time in feeling like her place was here. Yes, she was to marry and be the one to manage the house, but with no date in place, there was little she could do to settle in. She felt a bit out of place, but perhaps it would soon feel more and more like home for her.
She watched with interest as he stood, moving to the grab the box from the highest shelf to reveal the breads within. Her nose scrunched as she realized that she was far too short to be able to reach it on her own. Making a note of the cook’s name, Selene wondered if she would be able to arrange a roll or two sent up to her at night so she wouldn’t have to pull the shelf down in the process of recovering them. ”Yiannis, perhaps. Or Zanon.” She suggested with a bit of mirth in her voice. ”Vangelis would have starved before he tried to sneak an extra roll, I’m sure.” It would have been hard for her to hide the fondness in her voice, and she found herself wondering how much this man knew of her family’s desire for power. Would it color his opinion of her? Would he think she was just pretending to care for his clan, simply so that she could claim the crown?
With the way Vangelis seemed to take things as they were and not as they were assumed, she had to hope that he would not think less of her family’s desires.
The crock of butter was easy to find, and there was no shame in the two rolls that she pulled apart, lathering the set with butter before closing up the box and crock. Placing them onto a spare cloth, she took a seat at the counter, glad that he didn’t seem to mind her company. There was a desire to know the man who would be her father in law, who would be grandfather to her children. Moments like this would be impossible to set up in a time like this, where preparation for war and time with loved ones was far more important than an interview with the house guest. But maybe, just maybe, he wanted to know her, too. After all, she would soon be his daughter. He had appeared to be a man who thought family was the most important thing above all.
The stool she’d chosen was across the table, so she quietly moved it so that she was close to the man while not leaving the surface. Taking a small bite of bread, she watched him for a moment before smiling. ”I could ask you the same thing.” She teased gently, just as surprised to have seen him as she had been to see her. But after her jest, she grew a bit quiet. Gathering her thoughts, she left out the softest sigh as she prepared herself to be a little vulnerable with him. ”When Vangelis did not show up for dinner, I took it upon myself to prepare a small meal for him. We dined within the library, and after much conversation...” she trailed off for a moment, wondering just how much he cared. But with the lack of her own father, it seemed right to turn to him. ”I have much to think about.” She lifted her shoulders in another shrug. ”I am looking forward to becoming a Kotas, and I very much so wish there was time to see it done before the lot of you leave.”
It was not as if she was telling him anything he didn’t know. He was aware that the wedding would not happen until after the war. ”But I am a patient woman, so I will wait and spend precious time with the ones here.” She was trying to look on the bright side, even though it didn’t feel like there was one. ”What about you, Your Majesty? What keeps you from bed?”
Tython didn't catch much of the movement that Selene made, once more letting his gaze drop to the carving that he was working on. The owl needed a lot more detail before it was finished, but these long, waking nights often gave him a lot of time to work with anyway. Even holding a conversation would not be a problem while he worked by the firelight. His fingers worked in a deft way, the same way that he worked the smaller blades that he preferred to fight with. Sometimes it was difficult to manage such things in close combat, but he was still alive, so that had to mean something.
"Vangelis is an honorable man, yes," Tython noted almost absently, blowing on the small block of wood to brush away the shavings that had started to gather beside his thumb. He knew that in his bones. He had known that it hadn't been Vangelis and that was why they had hid them up sigh. None of his other sons were so tall as either Tython or Vangelis, and that was the beauty of it, really. It amused Tython simply to think about before he dragged his gaze away from his work and back to Lady Selene.
Her assertions taht she was looking forward to becoming part of the family made Tython smile slightly. His dark gaze was still stormy even in the dim firelight in the kitchens, but they still spoke volumes. "My son is pensive, and he likes to ensure that others think of all of the same points and issues that he does," Tython said slowly, letting out a deep breath. "Don't think too hard, Lady Selene," he said softly, "Not all decisions require such deep consideration. I can see that the two of you care for one another. My son is naturally stoic, but I have already seen the way he looks at you and its in stark contrast to anything I've witnessed before. I am sure that you will become a welcomed and warm member of the Kotas family," he said slowly, rolling his shoulders and sitting up straighter to ease some of the ache in his back.
"I, too, wish that I could see the two of you married before we leave, but such things are not in the cards... and you deserve better than a simple and quick affair," the king murmured in his low, gravelly tone. "My mind is often active," he finally amended, observing his carving closely, "I find that I would rather not wake my queen and instead try to tire my mind out wherever one of the fires is still burning in the manor."
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Tython didn't catch much of the movement that Selene made, once more letting his gaze drop to the carving that he was working on. The owl needed a lot more detail before it was finished, but these long, waking nights often gave him a lot of time to work with anyway. Even holding a conversation would not be a problem while he worked by the firelight. His fingers worked in a deft way, the same way that he worked the smaller blades that he preferred to fight with. Sometimes it was difficult to manage such things in close combat, but he was still alive, so that had to mean something.
"Vangelis is an honorable man, yes," Tython noted almost absently, blowing on the small block of wood to brush away the shavings that had started to gather beside his thumb. He knew that in his bones. He had known that it hadn't been Vangelis and that was why they had hid them up sigh. None of his other sons were so tall as either Tython or Vangelis, and that was the beauty of it, really. It amused Tython simply to think about before he dragged his gaze away from his work and back to Lady Selene.
Her assertions taht she was looking forward to becoming part of the family made Tython smile slightly. His dark gaze was still stormy even in the dim firelight in the kitchens, but they still spoke volumes. "My son is pensive, and he likes to ensure that others think of all of the same points and issues that he does," Tython said slowly, letting out a deep breath. "Don't think too hard, Lady Selene," he said softly, "Not all decisions require such deep consideration. I can see that the two of you care for one another. My son is naturally stoic, but I have already seen the way he looks at you and its in stark contrast to anything I've witnessed before. I am sure that you will become a welcomed and warm member of the Kotas family," he said slowly, rolling his shoulders and sitting up straighter to ease some of the ache in his back.
"I, too, wish that I could see the two of you married before we leave, but such things are not in the cards... and you deserve better than a simple and quick affair," the king murmured in his low, gravelly tone. "My mind is often active," he finally amended, observing his carving closely, "I find that I would rather not wake my queen and instead try to tire my mind out wherever one of the fires is still burning in the manor."
Tython didn't catch much of the movement that Selene made, once more letting his gaze drop to the carving that he was working on. The owl needed a lot more detail before it was finished, but these long, waking nights often gave him a lot of time to work with anyway. Even holding a conversation would not be a problem while he worked by the firelight. His fingers worked in a deft way, the same way that he worked the smaller blades that he preferred to fight with. Sometimes it was difficult to manage such things in close combat, but he was still alive, so that had to mean something.
"Vangelis is an honorable man, yes," Tython noted almost absently, blowing on the small block of wood to brush away the shavings that had started to gather beside his thumb. He knew that in his bones. He had known that it hadn't been Vangelis and that was why they had hid them up sigh. None of his other sons were so tall as either Tython or Vangelis, and that was the beauty of it, really. It amused Tython simply to think about before he dragged his gaze away from his work and back to Lady Selene.
Her assertions taht she was looking forward to becoming part of the family made Tython smile slightly. His dark gaze was still stormy even in the dim firelight in the kitchens, but they still spoke volumes. "My son is pensive, and he likes to ensure that others think of all of the same points and issues that he does," Tython said slowly, letting out a deep breath. "Don't think too hard, Lady Selene," he said softly, "Not all decisions require such deep consideration. I can see that the two of you care for one another. My son is naturally stoic, but I have already seen the way he looks at you and its in stark contrast to anything I've witnessed before. I am sure that you will become a welcomed and warm member of the Kotas family," he said slowly, rolling his shoulders and sitting up straighter to ease some of the ache in his back.
"I, too, wish that I could see the two of you married before we leave, but such things are not in the cards... and you deserve better than a simple and quick affair," the king murmured in his low, gravelly tone. "My mind is often active," he finally amended, observing his carving closely, "I find that I would rather not wake my queen and instead try to tire my mind out wherever one of the fires is still burning in the manor."
She tried to move quietly around the kitchens, hopeful to give the king the peace he was looking for. There was no intention of her to ruin whatever he was looking for. She had been looking for something similar, and perhaps it was just the comfort of food that she needed. But there was no denying how fortuitous that it was, in her mind, that he’d been here. She had been far too long without her own father that the presence of a father figure was a comfort in and of itself.
It made her realize just how much she missed her own father, missed the comfort of his knowledge and gentle direction. And it made it more apparent how much she would miss Georgios. She would no longer seem him day to day, no longer race him in their home. Maybe one day she would have a similar bond with the man hunched over the fire, whittling something with wood and a knife. She hoped that she would, for the connection between herself and her father would be a difficult one to lose. But she was thankful for her fondness of letters-- that would make it easier.
Selene slowly ate her roll, listening to his advice about his son. He knew him better than she did, and knew his quirks. And she listened, much like she’d done with Yanni as well. She wanted to know as much about him as she could, wanted to make the best choice so that she could be the best wife. As much as she had been around him, there was still much she didn’t know. And a part of her ached at the thought of the years that could be between this conversation and the next. The years between the departure and their wedding. How could one bear it all? How would she learn to just accept it? It seemed so daunting now, but perhaps it would ease. She would have to pay great attention to Yanni and learn from her.
His compliment brought a blush to her cheeks, unsure if she knew the look he was speaking of. It wasn’t something she would have been able to pick out, but both Tython and Zanon had mentioned it, had told her not to worry based on the way he watched her. “I had hoped,” she said softly, staring at the crumbs from her roll on her hands, brushing them gently onto her nightdress. “That we would be married before he left, is all.” It was the topic she had to think on, to come to terms with. “An heir would have provided hope.” She felt useless, in limbo and unable to do much to really be of assistance.
She would have been happy with a simple affair, regardless of what those around her felt she deserved. What would have been better than a victorious return to a happy wife? But it seemed that everyone wished for her best interests-- a chance to marry should he fall, or a grand wedding deserving of the heir to the kingdom. It did bring her some joy to know that he did approve of the marriage. She knew how much his opinion mattered to Vangelis, so his quiet approval kept the smile on her face. Moving one of the low stools from the corner closer to the fire, Selene took a seat by him, trying to sneak a peek at what he was working on. “Is that an owl? Homage to Athena?” She said with a smile, curious at the work in his hand. “Does it help? The activity? Perhaps I should find something similar to help. I am sure that the night ahead will be restless in a way they have never been before.” She’d been very young during the last war, so much that it hadn’t affected her life but in vain ways-- silks were harder to come by during that time.
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She tried to move quietly around the kitchens, hopeful to give the king the peace he was looking for. There was no intention of her to ruin whatever he was looking for. She had been looking for something similar, and perhaps it was just the comfort of food that she needed. But there was no denying how fortuitous that it was, in her mind, that he’d been here. She had been far too long without her own father that the presence of a father figure was a comfort in and of itself.
It made her realize just how much she missed her own father, missed the comfort of his knowledge and gentle direction. And it made it more apparent how much she would miss Georgios. She would no longer seem him day to day, no longer race him in their home. Maybe one day she would have a similar bond with the man hunched over the fire, whittling something with wood and a knife. She hoped that she would, for the connection between herself and her father would be a difficult one to lose. But she was thankful for her fondness of letters-- that would make it easier.
Selene slowly ate her roll, listening to his advice about his son. He knew him better than she did, and knew his quirks. And she listened, much like she’d done with Yanni as well. She wanted to know as much about him as she could, wanted to make the best choice so that she could be the best wife. As much as she had been around him, there was still much she didn’t know. And a part of her ached at the thought of the years that could be between this conversation and the next. The years between the departure and their wedding. How could one bear it all? How would she learn to just accept it? It seemed so daunting now, but perhaps it would ease. She would have to pay great attention to Yanni and learn from her.
His compliment brought a blush to her cheeks, unsure if she knew the look he was speaking of. It wasn’t something she would have been able to pick out, but both Tython and Zanon had mentioned it, had told her not to worry based on the way he watched her. “I had hoped,” she said softly, staring at the crumbs from her roll on her hands, brushing them gently onto her nightdress. “That we would be married before he left, is all.” It was the topic she had to think on, to come to terms with. “An heir would have provided hope.” She felt useless, in limbo and unable to do much to really be of assistance.
She would have been happy with a simple affair, regardless of what those around her felt she deserved. What would have been better than a victorious return to a happy wife? But it seemed that everyone wished for her best interests-- a chance to marry should he fall, or a grand wedding deserving of the heir to the kingdom. It did bring her some joy to know that he did approve of the marriage. She knew how much his opinion mattered to Vangelis, so his quiet approval kept the smile on her face. Moving one of the low stools from the corner closer to the fire, Selene took a seat by him, trying to sneak a peek at what he was working on. “Is that an owl? Homage to Athena?” She said with a smile, curious at the work in his hand. “Does it help? The activity? Perhaps I should find something similar to help. I am sure that the night ahead will be restless in a way they have never been before.” She’d been very young during the last war, so much that it hadn’t affected her life but in vain ways-- silks were harder to come by during that time.
She tried to move quietly around the kitchens, hopeful to give the king the peace he was looking for. There was no intention of her to ruin whatever he was looking for. She had been looking for something similar, and perhaps it was just the comfort of food that she needed. But there was no denying how fortuitous that it was, in her mind, that he’d been here. She had been far too long without her own father that the presence of a father figure was a comfort in and of itself.
It made her realize just how much she missed her own father, missed the comfort of his knowledge and gentle direction. And it made it more apparent how much she would miss Georgios. She would no longer seem him day to day, no longer race him in their home. Maybe one day she would have a similar bond with the man hunched over the fire, whittling something with wood and a knife. She hoped that she would, for the connection between herself and her father would be a difficult one to lose. But she was thankful for her fondness of letters-- that would make it easier.
Selene slowly ate her roll, listening to his advice about his son. He knew him better than she did, and knew his quirks. And she listened, much like she’d done with Yanni as well. She wanted to know as much about him as she could, wanted to make the best choice so that she could be the best wife. As much as she had been around him, there was still much she didn’t know. And a part of her ached at the thought of the years that could be between this conversation and the next. The years between the departure and their wedding. How could one bear it all? How would she learn to just accept it? It seemed so daunting now, but perhaps it would ease. She would have to pay great attention to Yanni and learn from her.
His compliment brought a blush to her cheeks, unsure if she knew the look he was speaking of. It wasn’t something she would have been able to pick out, but both Tython and Zanon had mentioned it, had told her not to worry based on the way he watched her. “I had hoped,” she said softly, staring at the crumbs from her roll on her hands, brushing them gently onto her nightdress. “That we would be married before he left, is all.” It was the topic she had to think on, to come to terms with. “An heir would have provided hope.” She felt useless, in limbo and unable to do much to really be of assistance.
She would have been happy with a simple affair, regardless of what those around her felt she deserved. What would have been better than a victorious return to a happy wife? But it seemed that everyone wished for her best interests-- a chance to marry should he fall, or a grand wedding deserving of the heir to the kingdom. It did bring her some joy to know that he did approve of the marriage. She knew how much his opinion mattered to Vangelis, so his quiet approval kept the smile on her face. Moving one of the low stools from the corner closer to the fire, Selene took a seat by him, trying to sneak a peek at what he was working on. “Is that an owl? Homage to Athena?” She said with a smile, curious at the work in his hand. “Does it help? The activity? Perhaps I should find something similar to help. I am sure that the night ahead will be restless in a way they have never been before.” She’d been very young during the last war, so much that it hadn’t affected her life but in vain ways-- silks were harder to come by during that time.
Tython kept his gaze on his carving while Selene moved about the kitchens, working another careful notch into the wood in the dim light of the fire. This was something he had picked up long ago, something he had done here and there as a boy but focused more on as war took him away from his home shores far more often. It was an outlet when he needed to think far more deeply than a situation allowed. Hyperfocusing on a menial task with his hands leant itself to allowing him to keep his thoughts on plans, supply lines, ships in a harbor, batallions on the field. Tonight, his thoughts were on the events of his return and the nearing event of his leaving for yet another war.
His entire being was tired, but that didn't mean that the King of Colchis was going to give up. But these moments of quiet silence became ever more important whenever he had them. It wasn't completely silent, but he enjoyed his company, so the lack of quiet did not entirely matter to Tython in the moment. He understood Selene's want of being married and to have an heir before Vangelis and the rest of the Colchian militants were to go off to Egypt, but it could not be done in such a short time. The rites to the gods themselves took longer than they had now.
So he picked his words carefully, hoping to soothe the mind of the young woman to his side, working on a few of the sweet rolls from their previous dinner. "I think you should recognize, Lady Selene, that you are all the hope that Colchis needs right now," the king murmured, "Your engagement will have been spoken of from here to the shores already," Tython continued, "They don't need an heir, they need a queen in the making," he murmured, "Thus, I hope that you fall in with the queen quite well. Attend to her functions and duties beside her so that you may see what will be expected of you when Vangelis returns from war," he murmured, completely negating himself from that group that was to return after battle. He doubted he would. His luck had to run out sometime, and he was sure that the gods would not favor his life so for much longer.
Showing Selene the full carving, Tython nodded at her question of it being an owl. "Yes," he said calmly, "I hope to give it to Athanasia before I leave," was all that he said at first, listening to Selene's further question on his trade. He hadn't really given thought to the women of his family having other activities to perform other than their courtly duties and leading the people, but he supposed, just like himself, it was beneficial to have something to distract ones mind. "The nights will begin to grow much colder," the king murmured, "Find an activity that keeps you warm when someone else cannot." A rare smirk graced his lips before he focused on the wood in his hand once more, working the knife along one of the grooves he had already made, trying to make it more pronounced than before.
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Tython kept his gaze on his carving while Selene moved about the kitchens, working another careful notch into the wood in the dim light of the fire. This was something he had picked up long ago, something he had done here and there as a boy but focused more on as war took him away from his home shores far more often. It was an outlet when he needed to think far more deeply than a situation allowed. Hyperfocusing on a menial task with his hands leant itself to allowing him to keep his thoughts on plans, supply lines, ships in a harbor, batallions on the field. Tonight, his thoughts were on the events of his return and the nearing event of his leaving for yet another war.
His entire being was tired, but that didn't mean that the King of Colchis was going to give up. But these moments of quiet silence became ever more important whenever he had them. It wasn't completely silent, but he enjoyed his company, so the lack of quiet did not entirely matter to Tython in the moment. He understood Selene's want of being married and to have an heir before Vangelis and the rest of the Colchian militants were to go off to Egypt, but it could not be done in such a short time. The rites to the gods themselves took longer than they had now.
So he picked his words carefully, hoping to soothe the mind of the young woman to his side, working on a few of the sweet rolls from their previous dinner. "I think you should recognize, Lady Selene, that you are all the hope that Colchis needs right now," the king murmured, "Your engagement will have been spoken of from here to the shores already," Tython continued, "They don't need an heir, they need a queen in the making," he murmured, "Thus, I hope that you fall in with the queen quite well. Attend to her functions and duties beside her so that you may see what will be expected of you when Vangelis returns from war," he murmured, completely negating himself from that group that was to return after battle. He doubted he would. His luck had to run out sometime, and he was sure that the gods would not favor his life so for much longer.
Showing Selene the full carving, Tython nodded at her question of it being an owl. "Yes," he said calmly, "I hope to give it to Athanasia before I leave," was all that he said at first, listening to Selene's further question on his trade. He hadn't really given thought to the women of his family having other activities to perform other than their courtly duties and leading the people, but he supposed, just like himself, it was beneficial to have something to distract ones mind. "The nights will begin to grow much colder," the king murmured, "Find an activity that keeps you warm when someone else cannot." A rare smirk graced his lips before he focused on the wood in his hand once more, working the knife along one of the grooves he had already made, trying to make it more pronounced than before.
Tython kept his gaze on his carving while Selene moved about the kitchens, working another careful notch into the wood in the dim light of the fire. This was something he had picked up long ago, something he had done here and there as a boy but focused more on as war took him away from his home shores far more often. It was an outlet when he needed to think far more deeply than a situation allowed. Hyperfocusing on a menial task with his hands leant itself to allowing him to keep his thoughts on plans, supply lines, ships in a harbor, batallions on the field. Tonight, his thoughts were on the events of his return and the nearing event of his leaving for yet another war.
His entire being was tired, but that didn't mean that the King of Colchis was going to give up. But these moments of quiet silence became ever more important whenever he had them. It wasn't completely silent, but he enjoyed his company, so the lack of quiet did not entirely matter to Tython in the moment. He understood Selene's want of being married and to have an heir before Vangelis and the rest of the Colchian militants were to go off to Egypt, but it could not be done in such a short time. The rites to the gods themselves took longer than they had now.
So he picked his words carefully, hoping to soothe the mind of the young woman to his side, working on a few of the sweet rolls from their previous dinner. "I think you should recognize, Lady Selene, that you are all the hope that Colchis needs right now," the king murmured, "Your engagement will have been spoken of from here to the shores already," Tython continued, "They don't need an heir, they need a queen in the making," he murmured, "Thus, I hope that you fall in with the queen quite well. Attend to her functions and duties beside her so that you may see what will be expected of you when Vangelis returns from war," he murmured, completely negating himself from that group that was to return after battle. He doubted he would. His luck had to run out sometime, and he was sure that the gods would not favor his life so for much longer.
Showing Selene the full carving, Tython nodded at her question of it being an owl. "Yes," he said calmly, "I hope to give it to Athanasia before I leave," was all that he said at first, listening to Selene's further question on his trade. He hadn't really given thought to the women of his family having other activities to perform other than their courtly duties and leading the people, but he supposed, just like himself, it was beneficial to have something to distract ones mind. "The nights will begin to grow much colder," the king murmured, "Find an activity that keeps you warm when someone else cannot." A rare smirk graced his lips before he focused on the wood in his hand once more, working the knife along one of the grooves he had already made, trying to make it more pronounced than before.
With as much time as she had spent in the Kotas manor, Selene found herself searching for the pieces of his sons within the man in front of her. Though they had not talked long, nor had they any other moment prior to this one alone, she had spent enough time with his children to see how each one had taken after the man before her. Vangelis was easy-- the serious way in which he took his duty to his people was a direct result of the way Tython had raised him. The subtle care in which he felt for those close to him was Zanon. The secret way he managed to wait things out was a trait she’d seen in Yiannis. And the wry jokes and sideways smile was Silas through and through.
And Athanasia? She was undoubtedly the best of him.
Selene was quiet as she listened to him speak of a different kind of hope. She had never thought of herself as hope, if she was being honest. At least, not on a scale in which he was suggesting. She had always been the hope of her family to secure a match that would put any doubts of security at ease for a family full of unmarried daughters. Her role had been limited to how she could put the mind of her parents at ease. But never had she considered a marriage with Vangelis as hope itself. But he was right-- the idea that life would continue on after the war, that a new line would reign and that children would come-- that was all hope. And it would have to be enough. “I had not considered that. I expected gossip, but not such widespread anticipation of such things.” She let herself smile, listening into his advice.
Yanni was far less daunting as she had been prior to meeting. When she had first met the Queen, Selene had been nervous about her opinion of the young girl. But now, she was greatly looking forward to the chance to get to know her, to learn the routine of the Queen of Colchis. And she was looking forward to a chance to get to know exactly how Yanni was able to be alone for as long as she was, ever the faithful wife and Queen. It must have been difficult to be married to a Colchian King gone more often than home. The thought brought a pang of longing for Selene, to know that she would one day have to teach a similar lesson. “I am looking forward to learning what I can from her. She has been wonderful so far.”
Her cheeks flushed at his offhand comment about finding something to keep warm by. And she giggled, knowing that he had meant it in good faith and humor. Perhaps for some it was easier to just find another bedmate-- but for the couple she was destined to follow, they would not go that route. So he had chosen to carve out wood. “Must be why I ride so much.” She said with a slight giggle, teasing herself a bit. Her virginal status was well known, and she had no trouble poking a bit of good-hearted fun at herself.
She let a quiet moment pass between them, watching intently as he worked on the small figure that was now between them. It made her wonder just how much he was home, how often he had found himself in front of this fire. Perhaps that would be a new game of hers-- to try and locate anything with this house that had been made by his hand. “I shall make sure I include you in my prayers. That the Gods may make haste of this war so that you can be warm in your own bed.” She meant it with her whole heart-- she would pray for his return, because she wanted nothing more than to build a relationship with her father in law.
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With as much time as she had spent in the Kotas manor, Selene found herself searching for the pieces of his sons within the man in front of her. Though they had not talked long, nor had they any other moment prior to this one alone, she had spent enough time with his children to see how each one had taken after the man before her. Vangelis was easy-- the serious way in which he took his duty to his people was a direct result of the way Tython had raised him. The subtle care in which he felt for those close to him was Zanon. The secret way he managed to wait things out was a trait she’d seen in Yiannis. And the wry jokes and sideways smile was Silas through and through.
And Athanasia? She was undoubtedly the best of him.
Selene was quiet as she listened to him speak of a different kind of hope. She had never thought of herself as hope, if she was being honest. At least, not on a scale in which he was suggesting. She had always been the hope of her family to secure a match that would put any doubts of security at ease for a family full of unmarried daughters. Her role had been limited to how she could put the mind of her parents at ease. But never had she considered a marriage with Vangelis as hope itself. But he was right-- the idea that life would continue on after the war, that a new line would reign and that children would come-- that was all hope. And it would have to be enough. “I had not considered that. I expected gossip, but not such widespread anticipation of such things.” She let herself smile, listening into his advice.
Yanni was far less daunting as she had been prior to meeting. When she had first met the Queen, Selene had been nervous about her opinion of the young girl. But now, she was greatly looking forward to the chance to get to know her, to learn the routine of the Queen of Colchis. And she was looking forward to a chance to get to know exactly how Yanni was able to be alone for as long as she was, ever the faithful wife and Queen. It must have been difficult to be married to a Colchian King gone more often than home. The thought brought a pang of longing for Selene, to know that she would one day have to teach a similar lesson. “I am looking forward to learning what I can from her. She has been wonderful so far.”
Her cheeks flushed at his offhand comment about finding something to keep warm by. And she giggled, knowing that he had meant it in good faith and humor. Perhaps for some it was easier to just find another bedmate-- but for the couple she was destined to follow, they would not go that route. So he had chosen to carve out wood. “Must be why I ride so much.” She said with a slight giggle, teasing herself a bit. Her virginal status was well known, and she had no trouble poking a bit of good-hearted fun at herself.
She let a quiet moment pass between them, watching intently as he worked on the small figure that was now between them. It made her wonder just how much he was home, how often he had found himself in front of this fire. Perhaps that would be a new game of hers-- to try and locate anything with this house that had been made by his hand. “I shall make sure I include you in my prayers. That the Gods may make haste of this war so that you can be warm in your own bed.” She meant it with her whole heart-- she would pray for his return, because she wanted nothing more than to build a relationship with her father in law.
With as much time as she had spent in the Kotas manor, Selene found herself searching for the pieces of his sons within the man in front of her. Though they had not talked long, nor had they any other moment prior to this one alone, she had spent enough time with his children to see how each one had taken after the man before her. Vangelis was easy-- the serious way in which he took his duty to his people was a direct result of the way Tython had raised him. The subtle care in which he felt for those close to him was Zanon. The secret way he managed to wait things out was a trait she’d seen in Yiannis. And the wry jokes and sideways smile was Silas through and through.
And Athanasia? She was undoubtedly the best of him.
Selene was quiet as she listened to him speak of a different kind of hope. She had never thought of herself as hope, if she was being honest. At least, not on a scale in which he was suggesting. She had always been the hope of her family to secure a match that would put any doubts of security at ease for a family full of unmarried daughters. Her role had been limited to how she could put the mind of her parents at ease. But never had she considered a marriage with Vangelis as hope itself. But he was right-- the idea that life would continue on after the war, that a new line would reign and that children would come-- that was all hope. And it would have to be enough. “I had not considered that. I expected gossip, but not such widespread anticipation of such things.” She let herself smile, listening into his advice.
Yanni was far less daunting as she had been prior to meeting. When she had first met the Queen, Selene had been nervous about her opinion of the young girl. But now, she was greatly looking forward to the chance to get to know her, to learn the routine of the Queen of Colchis. And she was looking forward to a chance to get to know exactly how Yanni was able to be alone for as long as she was, ever the faithful wife and Queen. It must have been difficult to be married to a Colchian King gone more often than home. The thought brought a pang of longing for Selene, to know that she would one day have to teach a similar lesson. “I am looking forward to learning what I can from her. She has been wonderful so far.”
Her cheeks flushed at his offhand comment about finding something to keep warm by. And she giggled, knowing that he had meant it in good faith and humor. Perhaps for some it was easier to just find another bedmate-- but for the couple she was destined to follow, they would not go that route. So he had chosen to carve out wood. “Must be why I ride so much.” She said with a slight giggle, teasing herself a bit. Her virginal status was well known, and she had no trouble poking a bit of good-hearted fun at herself.
She let a quiet moment pass between them, watching intently as he worked on the small figure that was now between them. It made her wonder just how much he was home, how often he had found himself in front of this fire. Perhaps that would be a new game of hers-- to try and locate anything with this house that had been made by his hand. “I shall make sure I include you in my prayers. That the Gods may make haste of this war so that you can be warm in your own bed.” She meant it with her whole heart-- she would pray for his return, because she wanted nothing more than to build a relationship with her father in law.
Tython smiled a little at Lady Selene, quickly finding himself calmed and more and more tired by the minute. These were the moments that he waited for when he could not sleep. His mind had been so set to racing with every thought to do with the coming war and leaving his family that he had been unable to settle himself. Such was not an outright terrible thing, but the man simply did not wish to disturb his wife, nor did he want to go out to the forge. This had been the perfect escape, and the conversation along with it had been calming and only asserted Tython's want for Lady Selene to join the Kotas ranks.
"She is wonderful, isn't she? Likely the only woman other than my sister who would have ever been able to deal with me for this long," the King joked quietly, shaking his head. "Coming and going like I have everywhere to be but next to her," he added, his smile turning a little sad. "Take what time you can with Vangelis before he leaves, Lady Leventi," the King said, rising slowly.
Her next words made him bow his head a little, "I thank you for your kindness, my lady," Tython noted quietly, "I pray the same for my wife," he murmured, "So that she may not sleep alone for long. This shall be my last war," he declared quietly, "She has said it many times before, but I can stay in Colchis if I chose to. And I have chosen that if I survive this war, I will not fight in another," he admitted, "So keep praying. I wish to be with my wife for my last moments."
And then the King was rising to his feet, his carving in one hand and the small whittling knife in the other. "I will bid you goodnight here, my lady," he said slowly, "I have found my peace in our conversation so I shall take my leave before my queen realizes that I have gone off," he said lightly, giving a careful bow and then starting toward the door. The man paused for a moment, "Take as much of the sweet roll to your room as you wish. I shall play dumb to the kitchen staff come morning," he mused with a smile.
And then the King of Colchis took his leave, leaving Lady Selene to her own thoughts, as well as her midnight snack.
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Tython smiled a little at Lady Selene, quickly finding himself calmed and more and more tired by the minute. These were the moments that he waited for when he could not sleep. His mind had been so set to racing with every thought to do with the coming war and leaving his family that he had been unable to settle himself. Such was not an outright terrible thing, but the man simply did not wish to disturb his wife, nor did he want to go out to the forge. This had been the perfect escape, and the conversation along with it had been calming and only asserted Tython's want for Lady Selene to join the Kotas ranks.
"She is wonderful, isn't she? Likely the only woman other than my sister who would have ever been able to deal with me for this long," the King joked quietly, shaking his head. "Coming and going like I have everywhere to be but next to her," he added, his smile turning a little sad. "Take what time you can with Vangelis before he leaves, Lady Leventi," the King said, rising slowly.
Her next words made him bow his head a little, "I thank you for your kindness, my lady," Tython noted quietly, "I pray the same for my wife," he murmured, "So that she may not sleep alone for long. This shall be my last war," he declared quietly, "She has said it many times before, but I can stay in Colchis if I chose to. And I have chosen that if I survive this war, I will not fight in another," he admitted, "So keep praying. I wish to be with my wife for my last moments."
And then the King was rising to his feet, his carving in one hand and the small whittling knife in the other. "I will bid you goodnight here, my lady," he said slowly, "I have found my peace in our conversation so I shall take my leave before my queen realizes that I have gone off," he said lightly, giving a careful bow and then starting toward the door. The man paused for a moment, "Take as much of the sweet roll to your room as you wish. I shall play dumb to the kitchen staff come morning," he mused with a smile.
And then the King of Colchis took his leave, leaving Lady Selene to her own thoughts, as well as her midnight snack.
Tython smiled a little at Lady Selene, quickly finding himself calmed and more and more tired by the minute. These were the moments that he waited for when he could not sleep. His mind had been so set to racing with every thought to do with the coming war and leaving his family that he had been unable to settle himself. Such was not an outright terrible thing, but the man simply did not wish to disturb his wife, nor did he want to go out to the forge. This had been the perfect escape, and the conversation along with it had been calming and only asserted Tython's want for Lady Selene to join the Kotas ranks.
"She is wonderful, isn't she? Likely the only woman other than my sister who would have ever been able to deal with me for this long," the King joked quietly, shaking his head. "Coming and going like I have everywhere to be but next to her," he added, his smile turning a little sad. "Take what time you can with Vangelis before he leaves, Lady Leventi," the King said, rising slowly.
Her next words made him bow his head a little, "I thank you for your kindness, my lady," Tython noted quietly, "I pray the same for my wife," he murmured, "So that she may not sleep alone for long. This shall be my last war," he declared quietly, "She has said it many times before, but I can stay in Colchis if I chose to. And I have chosen that if I survive this war, I will not fight in another," he admitted, "So keep praying. I wish to be with my wife for my last moments."
And then the King was rising to his feet, his carving in one hand and the small whittling knife in the other. "I will bid you goodnight here, my lady," he said slowly, "I have found my peace in our conversation so I shall take my leave before my queen realizes that I have gone off," he said lightly, giving a careful bow and then starting toward the door. The man paused for a moment, "Take as much of the sweet roll to your room as you wish. I shall play dumb to the kitchen staff come morning," he mused with a smile.
And then the King of Colchis took his leave, leaving Lady Selene to her own thoughts, as well as her midnight snack.
Vangelis had always spoken of his father with great pride, that the man was firm in his love of country and a leader in every way that mattered. Yet she imagined that this was not a side of him that he had seen often. For while a man might open up to his son about his concerns, there was a gentler demeanor when a woman was involved. Men softened in a way, they all did, to try and adjust for their delicate constitutions. And most men misjudged the amount of difficult news a woman could handle. By guarding themselves, they often revealed a part of their nature they weren’t even aware of.
While Tython may have been the very definition of a Colchian King, he was also a man who deeply loved his wife and family. And perhaps that was the very reason he fought so hard, went off to war so that they could continue to know safety and security. He appreciated his family, the time he got with his wife. And he also seemed to not only understand the sacrifice his wife made for him, but value her all the more for it.
She found herself wondering if Vangelis knew just how much his father loved his mother.
The suggestion that she find as much time with her intended as she was able brought a flush to her cheeks, for he must have seen that Selene’s affection for Vangelis had been more that just that of a woman after a title. They had spent so little time with him, and yet he must have known that she wished for his speedy return so that they could start their lives together. It must have been all over her face, the desire she had in her heart. And he all but gave his blessing for her to pull him away from his duty to give her moments to keep herself sane while he was gone. All she could do was bow her head and thank him, though she did not say anything in the way of promising to do just that.
For as much as he had seen of her affections for Vangelis, she was certain that he knew how duty bound the man was. It would be difficult to distract him if he had preparations to make.
His words had left her deep in thought, and she bowed her head to him as he stood to take his leave. He had left her with much to think about, and yet his parting words were that of a partner in crime, promising to keep her secret as to the rolls she’d come to devour. A soft giggle escaped her lips as he left, gathering an extra one to take back with her to her own room. While she knew that she would take a bit longer before she found sleep, the conversation with the king had brought her an odd sense of calm.
And the full, happy stomach.
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Vangelis had always spoken of his father with great pride, that the man was firm in his love of country and a leader in every way that mattered. Yet she imagined that this was not a side of him that he had seen often. For while a man might open up to his son about his concerns, there was a gentler demeanor when a woman was involved. Men softened in a way, they all did, to try and adjust for their delicate constitutions. And most men misjudged the amount of difficult news a woman could handle. By guarding themselves, they often revealed a part of their nature they weren’t even aware of.
While Tython may have been the very definition of a Colchian King, he was also a man who deeply loved his wife and family. And perhaps that was the very reason he fought so hard, went off to war so that they could continue to know safety and security. He appreciated his family, the time he got with his wife. And he also seemed to not only understand the sacrifice his wife made for him, but value her all the more for it.
She found herself wondering if Vangelis knew just how much his father loved his mother.
The suggestion that she find as much time with her intended as she was able brought a flush to her cheeks, for he must have seen that Selene’s affection for Vangelis had been more that just that of a woman after a title. They had spent so little time with him, and yet he must have known that she wished for his speedy return so that they could start their lives together. It must have been all over her face, the desire she had in her heart. And he all but gave his blessing for her to pull him away from his duty to give her moments to keep herself sane while he was gone. All she could do was bow her head and thank him, though she did not say anything in the way of promising to do just that.
For as much as he had seen of her affections for Vangelis, she was certain that he knew how duty bound the man was. It would be difficult to distract him if he had preparations to make.
His words had left her deep in thought, and she bowed her head to him as he stood to take his leave. He had left her with much to think about, and yet his parting words were that of a partner in crime, promising to keep her secret as to the rolls she’d come to devour. A soft giggle escaped her lips as he left, gathering an extra one to take back with her to her own room. While she knew that she would take a bit longer before she found sleep, the conversation with the king had brought her an odd sense of calm.
And the full, happy stomach.
Vangelis had always spoken of his father with great pride, that the man was firm in his love of country and a leader in every way that mattered. Yet she imagined that this was not a side of him that he had seen often. For while a man might open up to his son about his concerns, there was a gentler demeanor when a woman was involved. Men softened in a way, they all did, to try and adjust for their delicate constitutions. And most men misjudged the amount of difficult news a woman could handle. By guarding themselves, they often revealed a part of their nature they weren’t even aware of.
While Tython may have been the very definition of a Colchian King, he was also a man who deeply loved his wife and family. And perhaps that was the very reason he fought so hard, went off to war so that they could continue to know safety and security. He appreciated his family, the time he got with his wife. And he also seemed to not only understand the sacrifice his wife made for him, but value her all the more for it.
She found herself wondering if Vangelis knew just how much his father loved his mother.
The suggestion that she find as much time with her intended as she was able brought a flush to her cheeks, for he must have seen that Selene’s affection for Vangelis had been more that just that of a woman after a title. They had spent so little time with him, and yet he must have known that she wished for his speedy return so that they could start their lives together. It must have been all over her face, the desire she had in her heart. And he all but gave his blessing for her to pull him away from his duty to give her moments to keep herself sane while he was gone. All she could do was bow her head and thank him, though she did not say anything in the way of promising to do just that.
For as much as he had seen of her affections for Vangelis, she was certain that he knew how duty bound the man was. It would be difficult to distract him if he had preparations to make.
His words had left her deep in thought, and she bowed her head to him as he stood to take his leave. He had left her with much to think about, and yet his parting words were that of a partner in crime, promising to keep her secret as to the rolls she’d come to devour. A soft giggle escaped her lips as he left, gathering an extra one to take back with her to her own room. While she knew that she would take a bit longer before she found sleep, the conversation with the king had brought her an odd sense of calm.
