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Vangelis was no naive idiot. He was perfectly aware that the next few hours of his life were going to be a complete and utter shit show - a phrase he had learnt from other soldiers when a battle went from conflict to skirmish to full out mud wrestling. A shit show in the extreme.
How he was supposed to explain to his parents that Selene had moved out of the manor and Thea had moved in, in the space of two days, and that his entire plans for marriage and matrimony had suddenly become of an urgent nature just with a different woman, he wasn't sure.
But he was a direct man by nature, so direct was exactly what he was going to be. Because what was the point of dancing around a subject that had just physical evidence to its claim? Physical evidence that was only going to get larger and move obvious as the months passed by.
And so, Vangelis - being no fool, and no coward - so no reason to flutter and flurry and to simply be as clear, concise and informative as he could. And, with that in mind, he went to see his parents the same day that he spoke with Selene. For all intents and purposes, he was trying to quarterize the wound as quickly as possible, so that they could all accept the pain and the discomfort and the practical difficulties and just move on as quickly as possible following the new status of the world as he saw it:
On the first day after he had discovered the news, he had brought Thea to the manor. That night he had spoken to Zanon, and the next morning he had made the revelation to Selene. That afternoon she had moved out of the Kotas manor and attended back to the Leventi's home in Midas and it was that evening - just an hour after his would-be bride had left the estate - that he went in search of his parents.
When the steward on duty that day informed Vangelis that his father and mother were both already within their suite and chambers for the evening, Vangelis felt a momentary hesitation, not wanting to disturb. But at the same time, he knew that little happened within this household that his mother didn't immediately know about and he wanted to be the first to bear the awkward news. So, with all the courage a son took when disturbing the privacy of his parents, Vangelis strode to the chambers of the king and queen and raised a hand to knock with determination upon the door.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Vangelis was no naive idiot. He was perfectly aware that the next few hours of his life were going to be a complete and utter shit show - a phrase he had learnt from other soldiers when a battle went from conflict to skirmish to full out mud wrestling. A shit show in the extreme.
How he was supposed to explain to his parents that Selene had moved out of the manor and Thea had moved in, in the space of two days, and that his entire plans for marriage and matrimony had suddenly become of an urgent nature just with a different woman, he wasn't sure.
But he was a direct man by nature, so direct was exactly what he was going to be. Because what was the point of dancing around a subject that had just physical evidence to its claim? Physical evidence that was only going to get larger and move obvious as the months passed by.
And so, Vangelis - being no fool, and no coward - so no reason to flutter and flurry and to simply be as clear, concise and informative as he could. And, with that in mind, he went to see his parents the same day that he spoke with Selene. For all intents and purposes, he was trying to quarterize the wound as quickly as possible, so that they could all accept the pain and the discomfort and the practical difficulties and just move on as quickly as possible following the new status of the world as he saw it:
On the first day after he had discovered the news, he had brought Thea to the manor. That night he had spoken to Zanon, and the next morning he had made the revelation to Selene. That afternoon she had moved out of the Kotas manor and attended back to the Leventi's home in Midas and it was that evening - just an hour after his would-be bride had left the estate - that he went in search of his parents.
When the steward on duty that day informed Vangelis that his father and mother were both already within their suite and chambers for the evening, Vangelis felt a momentary hesitation, not wanting to disturb. But at the same time, he knew that little happened within this household that his mother didn't immediately know about and he wanted to be the first to bear the awkward news. So, with all the courage a son took when disturbing the privacy of his parents, Vangelis strode to the chambers of the king and queen and raised a hand to knock with determination upon the door.
Vangelis was no naive idiot. He was perfectly aware that the next few hours of his life were going to be a complete and utter shit show - a phrase he had learnt from other soldiers when a battle went from conflict to skirmish to full out mud wrestling. A shit show in the extreme.
How he was supposed to explain to his parents that Selene had moved out of the manor and Thea had moved in, in the space of two days, and that his entire plans for marriage and matrimony had suddenly become of an urgent nature just with a different woman, he wasn't sure.
But he was a direct man by nature, so direct was exactly what he was going to be. Because what was the point of dancing around a subject that had just physical evidence to its claim? Physical evidence that was only going to get larger and move obvious as the months passed by.
And so, Vangelis - being no fool, and no coward - so no reason to flutter and flurry and to simply be as clear, concise and informative as he could. And, with that in mind, he went to see his parents the same day that he spoke with Selene. For all intents and purposes, he was trying to quarterize the wound as quickly as possible, so that they could all accept the pain and the discomfort and the practical difficulties and just move on as quickly as possible following the new status of the world as he saw it:
On the first day after he had discovered the news, he had brought Thea to the manor. That night he had spoken to Zanon, and the next morning he had made the revelation to Selene. That afternoon she had moved out of the Kotas manor and attended back to the Leventi's home in Midas and it was that evening - just an hour after his would-be bride had left the estate - that he went in search of his parents.
When the steward on duty that day informed Vangelis that his father and mother were both already within their suite and chambers for the evening, Vangelis felt a momentary hesitation, not wanting to disturb. But at the same time, he knew that little happened within this household that his mother didn't immediately know about and he wanted to be the first to bear the awkward news. So, with all the courage a son took when disturbing the privacy of his parents, Vangelis strode to the chambers of the king and queen and raised a hand to knock with determination upon the door.
Yanni and Tython had been taking every moment possible to be alone before Tython had to leave once more, some of their time had been spent merely talking and enjoying each others company, but a lot of their time had been spent behind closed doors a little less innocently. That was what they were currently up to when a knock at their door interrupted them. Normally Yanni would have been happy to ignore the knock and deal with what ever it was the next day, but with so much going on, including a lot of important matters, she thought they ought to at least see who it was. Besides, everyone knew better than to disturb the two of them when they had retired for the night, unless it was dire.
Yanni quickly dressed herself, throwing on a casual dress and a light himation over top to cover more of herself for the sake of modesty. She didn’t have time to do much more than attempt to flatten her hair from the slight mess it had become. She looked back at her husband to make sure that he was decent, unable to help the small giggle that escaped her, though she covered her mouth to muffle it. There he stood, with nothing but a blanket wrapped around his hips to cover himself. It was moments like this, when the two weren’t King and Queen, when they were just a husband and wife who loved each other to the ends of the world, that she treasured the most.
She composed herself and opened the door just enough to see who had knocked, surprised to see Vang standing there.
“Vangelis.” She greeted before she opened the door more so Vang could enter, motioning for him to come in so she could close the door. It was one thing for Vangelis to see his parents looking as such, but no one else needed to see the King and Queen outside of their usual put together and regal looking selves.
She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, looking at her son. She felt a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach at the look in his eyes. This couldn’t be good news, he wouldn’t have bothered his parents if it was something casual, he would have waiting until morning to speak with them. She attempted to keep her expression neutral, but she was sure her oldest son and husband could both tell she was a bit tense, anxious to find out why Vangelis was here and what had brought him there.
She glanced over at her husband, seeing if there was any sign that he felt the same. Looking at him made her settle a little, he had always done that for her. He had always guided them through everything that had happened, and she was thankful to have a husband who was strong enough to do so.
Her attentions turned from her husband and back to her son, waiting anxiously to hear what was going on and hoping that no one was hurt or worse.
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Yanni and Tython had been taking every moment possible to be alone before Tython had to leave once more, some of their time had been spent merely talking and enjoying each others company, but a lot of their time had been spent behind closed doors a little less innocently. That was what they were currently up to when a knock at their door interrupted them. Normally Yanni would have been happy to ignore the knock and deal with what ever it was the next day, but with so much going on, including a lot of important matters, she thought they ought to at least see who it was. Besides, everyone knew better than to disturb the two of them when they had retired for the night, unless it was dire.
Yanni quickly dressed herself, throwing on a casual dress and a light himation over top to cover more of herself for the sake of modesty. She didn’t have time to do much more than attempt to flatten her hair from the slight mess it had become. She looked back at her husband to make sure that he was decent, unable to help the small giggle that escaped her, though she covered her mouth to muffle it. There he stood, with nothing but a blanket wrapped around his hips to cover himself. It was moments like this, when the two weren’t King and Queen, when they were just a husband and wife who loved each other to the ends of the world, that she treasured the most.
She composed herself and opened the door just enough to see who had knocked, surprised to see Vang standing there.
“Vangelis.” She greeted before she opened the door more so Vang could enter, motioning for him to come in so she could close the door. It was one thing for Vangelis to see his parents looking as such, but no one else needed to see the King and Queen outside of their usual put together and regal looking selves.
She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, looking at her son. She felt a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach at the look in his eyes. This couldn’t be good news, he wouldn’t have bothered his parents if it was something casual, he would have waiting until morning to speak with them. She attempted to keep her expression neutral, but she was sure her oldest son and husband could both tell she was a bit tense, anxious to find out why Vangelis was here and what had brought him there.
She glanced over at her husband, seeing if there was any sign that he felt the same. Looking at him made her settle a little, he had always done that for her. He had always guided them through everything that had happened, and she was thankful to have a husband who was strong enough to do so.
Her attentions turned from her husband and back to her son, waiting anxiously to hear what was going on and hoping that no one was hurt or worse.
Yanni and Tython had been taking every moment possible to be alone before Tython had to leave once more, some of their time had been spent merely talking and enjoying each others company, but a lot of their time had been spent behind closed doors a little less innocently. That was what they were currently up to when a knock at their door interrupted them. Normally Yanni would have been happy to ignore the knock and deal with what ever it was the next day, but with so much going on, including a lot of important matters, she thought they ought to at least see who it was. Besides, everyone knew better than to disturb the two of them when they had retired for the night, unless it was dire.
Yanni quickly dressed herself, throwing on a casual dress and a light himation over top to cover more of herself for the sake of modesty. She didn’t have time to do much more than attempt to flatten her hair from the slight mess it had become. She looked back at her husband to make sure that he was decent, unable to help the small giggle that escaped her, though she covered her mouth to muffle it. There he stood, with nothing but a blanket wrapped around his hips to cover himself. It was moments like this, when the two weren’t King and Queen, when they were just a husband and wife who loved each other to the ends of the world, that she treasured the most.
She composed herself and opened the door just enough to see who had knocked, surprised to see Vang standing there.
“Vangelis.” She greeted before she opened the door more so Vang could enter, motioning for him to come in so she could close the door. It was one thing for Vangelis to see his parents looking as such, but no one else needed to see the King and Queen outside of their usual put together and regal looking selves.
She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, looking at her son. She felt a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach at the look in his eyes. This couldn’t be good news, he wouldn’t have bothered his parents if it was something casual, he would have waiting until morning to speak with them. She attempted to keep her expression neutral, but she was sure her oldest son and husband could both tell she was a bit tense, anxious to find out why Vangelis was here and what had brought him there.
She glanced over at her husband, seeing if there was any sign that he felt the same. Looking at him made her settle a little, he had always done that for her. He had always guided them through everything that had happened, and she was thankful to have a husband who was strong enough to do so.
Her attentions turned from her husband and back to her son, waiting anxiously to hear what was going on and hoping that no one was hurt or worse.
As a general rule, the King and Queen were not to be disturbed once they had retired together. Not unless something was vitally important. Tython had a rather smooth, calm temperament, but he was still a man. And being interrupted from what he truly wanted in that moment was still just as frustrating for him as it would be for anyone else. Already annoyed by the knock on their chamber door, Tython even groaned low, mumbling something about interruptions but nothing more.
He might have gotten fully dressed if he thought it was needed, but there was a feeling in his gut that told him it would be Vangelis at the door. So Tython sat up from the bed, grabbing one of the blankets and slinging it around his hips to give him some bit of modesty while Yanni dressed fully in order to open the door to their chambers. Tython was correct. It was their eldest son, and he immediately moved to settle on the edge of the bed, his stormy gaze fixed on the prince with quiet consideration. He felt the irritation melting away, but the man still chewed at one of his nails, waiting patiently for the man to tell him why it was that he was here at this hour.
Admittedly, Tython had a feeling that it was not a good reason, otherwise Vangelis would have waited until the next morning to tell them. Their son seemed anxious, which was also out of character for him... unless he had actually done something that warranted him looking so ruffled. An almost imperceptable squinting of his eyes had Tython looking Vang up and down for any sign of injury or otherwise, one hand settled in his lap and the other still being busied with one of Tython's few bad habits.
"What is it, son?" Tython asked in a casually unnerving way that was always meant to come off as impassive, but still sounded accusatory regardless. These were the moments that one of their children usually admitted some sort of transgression or mistake, and Tython usually welcomed them at first. What he did or said after the secrets were divulged was a different story. Initially, he had not taken Zanon's request to Evras of Thanasi well. Not at all. Tython had been much more pleased at the engagement between Vangelis and Selene of Leventi. He had somewhat of a soft spot for the woman and was more than keen to have her in the family.
Inwardly, he wondered if that was still the intention, as the look on Vangelis' face was somewhat similar to the one that had been on Zanon's all those years ago. "Spit it out."
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As a general rule, the King and Queen were not to be disturbed once they had retired together. Not unless something was vitally important. Tython had a rather smooth, calm temperament, but he was still a man. And being interrupted from what he truly wanted in that moment was still just as frustrating for him as it would be for anyone else. Already annoyed by the knock on their chamber door, Tython even groaned low, mumbling something about interruptions but nothing more.
He might have gotten fully dressed if he thought it was needed, but there was a feeling in his gut that told him it would be Vangelis at the door. So Tython sat up from the bed, grabbing one of the blankets and slinging it around his hips to give him some bit of modesty while Yanni dressed fully in order to open the door to their chambers. Tython was correct. It was their eldest son, and he immediately moved to settle on the edge of the bed, his stormy gaze fixed on the prince with quiet consideration. He felt the irritation melting away, but the man still chewed at one of his nails, waiting patiently for the man to tell him why it was that he was here at this hour.
Admittedly, Tython had a feeling that it was not a good reason, otherwise Vangelis would have waited until the next morning to tell them. Their son seemed anxious, which was also out of character for him... unless he had actually done something that warranted him looking so ruffled. An almost imperceptable squinting of his eyes had Tython looking Vang up and down for any sign of injury or otherwise, one hand settled in his lap and the other still being busied with one of Tython's few bad habits.
"What is it, son?" Tython asked in a casually unnerving way that was always meant to come off as impassive, but still sounded accusatory regardless. These were the moments that one of their children usually admitted some sort of transgression or mistake, and Tython usually welcomed them at first. What he did or said after the secrets were divulged was a different story. Initially, he had not taken Zanon's request to Evras of Thanasi well. Not at all. Tython had been much more pleased at the engagement between Vangelis and Selene of Leventi. He had somewhat of a soft spot for the woman and was more than keen to have her in the family.
Inwardly, he wondered if that was still the intention, as the look on Vangelis' face was somewhat similar to the one that had been on Zanon's all those years ago. "Spit it out."
As a general rule, the King and Queen were not to be disturbed once they had retired together. Not unless something was vitally important. Tython had a rather smooth, calm temperament, but he was still a man. And being interrupted from what he truly wanted in that moment was still just as frustrating for him as it would be for anyone else. Already annoyed by the knock on their chamber door, Tython even groaned low, mumbling something about interruptions but nothing more.
He might have gotten fully dressed if he thought it was needed, but there was a feeling in his gut that told him it would be Vangelis at the door. So Tython sat up from the bed, grabbing one of the blankets and slinging it around his hips to give him some bit of modesty while Yanni dressed fully in order to open the door to their chambers. Tython was correct. It was their eldest son, and he immediately moved to settle on the edge of the bed, his stormy gaze fixed on the prince with quiet consideration. He felt the irritation melting away, but the man still chewed at one of his nails, waiting patiently for the man to tell him why it was that he was here at this hour.
Admittedly, Tython had a feeling that it was not a good reason, otherwise Vangelis would have waited until the next morning to tell them. Their son seemed anxious, which was also out of character for him... unless he had actually done something that warranted him looking so ruffled. An almost imperceptable squinting of his eyes had Tython looking Vang up and down for any sign of injury or otherwise, one hand settled in his lap and the other still being busied with one of Tython's few bad habits.
"What is it, son?" Tython asked in a casually unnerving way that was always meant to come off as impassive, but still sounded accusatory regardless. These were the moments that one of their children usually admitted some sort of transgression or mistake, and Tython usually welcomed them at first. What he did or said after the secrets were divulged was a different story. Initially, he had not taken Zanon's request to Evras of Thanasi well. Not at all. Tython had been much more pleased at the engagement between Vangelis and Selene of Leventi. He had somewhat of a soft spot for the woman and was more than keen to have her in the family.
Inwardly, he wondered if that was still the intention, as the look on Vangelis' face was somewhat similar to the one that had been on Zanon's all those years ago. "Spit it out."
When is mother came to the door, her lithe figure appearing the crack of the open doorway, Vangelis felt a sense of unsettled awkwardness at her casual appearance. A man used to seeing his mother in the more human visage that common peerage would never have witnessed, it wasn’t the fact that she was missing her grown and regal raiment that had his neck stiffen and his stance hinting at just the faintest sense of awkward. Now a grown man, he understood what he had interrupted when his mother’s hair was wayward, her cheeks flushed and her state of dress unkempt.
Not easily embarrassed, however, Vangelis took his mother’s judgement of the situation as gospel and, when she opened the door a little wider to permit him inside, Vangelis stepped through. Accompanying him into the room was the odd sense that children always felt when entering into a chamber that was clearly so open and familiar to those that inhabited it but unknown to themselves. The suite was lit with candles and the living room opened into the sleeping chamber were an unmade bed could be witnessed. Perched upon it was his father, wrapped in the linen of the furniture and holding no shame for it.
It was odd to see the king in so unformal a sense, clearly naked beneath the sheets and biting on his thumb nail in a manner that was almost human. It had been his mother’s constant yet affectionate nags at the man over the habit, all through is childhood, that had stopped him from developing the habit himself.
As his mother moved back towards the bedchamber without shame or care of what her eldest child might think of his parents’ activities, Vangelis followed her lead and her step.
Pausing on the threshold of the doorway, not willing to break the atmosphere of privacy within the space beyond, he stood with his hands behind his back and is feet braced. It was a stance that had become natural and familiar to him when speaking to is father – both professionally and personally – but particularly when he was in a position were his father would play judgment on his behaviour.
Having not been present during the talks between his brother and his father – he had been in the Northern Lands at the time, defending their borders - he had only the news of his brother’s engagement and stories of his father’s anger for his knowledge. As such, he had no ideas as to the similarities or differences between his position now and Zanon’s near thirteen years ago. He knew only that Zanon had asked for his father’s blessings to be wed to Evras, in lieu of the Head of the Kotas House being abroad. He knew that it had gone down with all the success of a bread shield and that it had taken several weeks of negotiation before it had been permitted.
Now, the political dynamic was ever so slightly different. Vangelis was the Head of the House of Kotas. It was his decision as to whom he married and who was permitted to marry him. If his father wanted to create an entire law or edict that prohibited the match then technically he could but, in all reality, this was Vangelis’ choice to make.
Therefore, as he spoke to his father over the match, he did not ask permission. He simply informed.
“The Lady Selene has left the manor and resides now with her family at the Leventi estate I the capitol.” He stated, simple and factual. “Lady Thea of Thanasi has been moved into the guest suites here, under my order.” Vangelis watched the expressions on his parents’ face but he did not offer any upon his own. Whilst he had always respected the decisions and judgements of his mother, his eyes were tracking strongly upon the appearance of his father. His eyes watched the king’s features, searching for a disappointment and chastisement that he had rarely seen but all the more spent his life fearing. “Whilst a matrimony is impossible this side of the Egyptian campaign, I have made a formal offer to the Lady Thea and renounced such a claim upon Selene…” There was a pause, as Vangelis knew that he had yet to give a full explanation of the sudden turnaround that, given the secrecy of is relationship with Thea, would be confusing otherwise.
“She is with child.” He stated calmly, seeing no reason to confirm the paternity of such a thing. For, why else, would he be insisting upon a marriage that ran roughshod over a previously successful and eagerly awaited betrothal…?
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When is mother came to the door, her lithe figure appearing the crack of the open doorway, Vangelis felt a sense of unsettled awkwardness at her casual appearance. A man used to seeing his mother in the more human visage that common peerage would never have witnessed, it wasn’t the fact that she was missing her grown and regal raiment that had his neck stiffen and his stance hinting at just the faintest sense of awkward. Now a grown man, he understood what he had interrupted when his mother’s hair was wayward, her cheeks flushed and her state of dress unkempt.
Not easily embarrassed, however, Vangelis took his mother’s judgement of the situation as gospel and, when she opened the door a little wider to permit him inside, Vangelis stepped through. Accompanying him into the room was the odd sense that children always felt when entering into a chamber that was clearly so open and familiar to those that inhabited it but unknown to themselves. The suite was lit with candles and the living room opened into the sleeping chamber were an unmade bed could be witnessed. Perched upon it was his father, wrapped in the linen of the furniture and holding no shame for it.
It was odd to see the king in so unformal a sense, clearly naked beneath the sheets and biting on his thumb nail in a manner that was almost human. It had been his mother’s constant yet affectionate nags at the man over the habit, all through is childhood, that had stopped him from developing the habit himself.
As his mother moved back towards the bedchamber without shame or care of what her eldest child might think of his parents’ activities, Vangelis followed her lead and her step.
Pausing on the threshold of the doorway, not willing to break the atmosphere of privacy within the space beyond, he stood with his hands behind his back and is feet braced. It was a stance that had become natural and familiar to him when speaking to is father – both professionally and personally – but particularly when he was in a position were his father would play judgment on his behaviour.
Having not been present during the talks between his brother and his father – he had been in the Northern Lands at the time, defending their borders - he had only the news of his brother’s engagement and stories of his father’s anger for his knowledge. As such, he had no ideas as to the similarities or differences between his position now and Zanon’s near thirteen years ago. He knew only that Zanon had asked for his father’s blessings to be wed to Evras, in lieu of the Head of the Kotas House being abroad. He knew that it had gone down with all the success of a bread shield and that it had taken several weeks of negotiation before it had been permitted.
Now, the political dynamic was ever so slightly different. Vangelis was the Head of the House of Kotas. It was his decision as to whom he married and who was permitted to marry him. If his father wanted to create an entire law or edict that prohibited the match then technically he could but, in all reality, this was Vangelis’ choice to make.
Therefore, as he spoke to his father over the match, he did not ask permission. He simply informed.
“The Lady Selene has left the manor and resides now with her family at the Leventi estate I the capitol.” He stated, simple and factual. “Lady Thea of Thanasi has been moved into the guest suites here, under my order.” Vangelis watched the expressions on his parents’ face but he did not offer any upon his own. Whilst he had always respected the decisions and judgements of his mother, his eyes were tracking strongly upon the appearance of his father. His eyes watched the king’s features, searching for a disappointment and chastisement that he had rarely seen but all the more spent his life fearing. “Whilst a matrimony is impossible this side of the Egyptian campaign, I have made a formal offer to the Lady Thea and renounced such a claim upon Selene…” There was a pause, as Vangelis knew that he had yet to give a full explanation of the sudden turnaround that, given the secrecy of is relationship with Thea, would be confusing otherwise.
“She is with child.” He stated calmly, seeing no reason to confirm the paternity of such a thing. For, why else, would he be insisting upon a marriage that ran roughshod over a previously successful and eagerly awaited betrothal…?
When is mother came to the door, her lithe figure appearing the crack of the open doorway, Vangelis felt a sense of unsettled awkwardness at her casual appearance. A man used to seeing his mother in the more human visage that common peerage would never have witnessed, it wasn’t the fact that she was missing her grown and regal raiment that had his neck stiffen and his stance hinting at just the faintest sense of awkward. Now a grown man, he understood what he had interrupted when his mother’s hair was wayward, her cheeks flushed and her state of dress unkempt.
Not easily embarrassed, however, Vangelis took his mother’s judgement of the situation as gospel and, when she opened the door a little wider to permit him inside, Vangelis stepped through. Accompanying him into the room was the odd sense that children always felt when entering into a chamber that was clearly so open and familiar to those that inhabited it but unknown to themselves. The suite was lit with candles and the living room opened into the sleeping chamber were an unmade bed could be witnessed. Perched upon it was his father, wrapped in the linen of the furniture and holding no shame for it.
It was odd to see the king in so unformal a sense, clearly naked beneath the sheets and biting on his thumb nail in a manner that was almost human. It had been his mother’s constant yet affectionate nags at the man over the habit, all through is childhood, that had stopped him from developing the habit himself.
As his mother moved back towards the bedchamber without shame or care of what her eldest child might think of his parents’ activities, Vangelis followed her lead and her step.
Pausing on the threshold of the doorway, not willing to break the atmosphere of privacy within the space beyond, he stood with his hands behind his back and is feet braced. It was a stance that had become natural and familiar to him when speaking to is father – both professionally and personally – but particularly when he was in a position were his father would play judgment on his behaviour.
Having not been present during the talks between his brother and his father – he had been in the Northern Lands at the time, defending their borders - he had only the news of his brother’s engagement and stories of his father’s anger for his knowledge. As such, he had no ideas as to the similarities or differences between his position now and Zanon’s near thirteen years ago. He knew only that Zanon had asked for his father’s blessings to be wed to Evras, in lieu of the Head of the Kotas House being abroad. He knew that it had gone down with all the success of a bread shield and that it had taken several weeks of negotiation before it had been permitted.
Now, the political dynamic was ever so slightly different. Vangelis was the Head of the House of Kotas. It was his decision as to whom he married and who was permitted to marry him. If his father wanted to create an entire law or edict that prohibited the match then technically he could but, in all reality, this was Vangelis’ choice to make.
Therefore, as he spoke to his father over the match, he did not ask permission. He simply informed.
“The Lady Selene has left the manor and resides now with her family at the Leventi estate I the capitol.” He stated, simple and factual. “Lady Thea of Thanasi has been moved into the guest suites here, under my order.” Vangelis watched the expressions on his parents’ face but he did not offer any upon his own. Whilst he had always respected the decisions and judgements of his mother, his eyes were tracking strongly upon the appearance of his father. His eyes watched the king’s features, searching for a disappointment and chastisement that he had rarely seen but all the more spent his life fearing. “Whilst a matrimony is impossible this side of the Egyptian campaign, I have made a formal offer to the Lady Thea and renounced such a claim upon Selene…” There was a pause, as Vangelis knew that he had yet to give a full explanation of the sudden turnaround that, given the secrecy of is relationship with Thea, would be confusing otherwise.
“She is with child.” He stated calmly, seeing no reason to confirm the paternity of such a thing. For, why else, would he be insisting upon a marriage that ran roughshod over a previously successful and eagerly awaited betrothal…?
Yanni waited, knowing that what ever news had driven Vangelis to their door after they retired was not going to be good. Many scenarios ran through her head, but never in her life did she think that her eldest son would make the same mistake as her second son had so many years ago. And yet his words rang clear in the room, hanging heavy between son and parents. She knew that her husband would likely be as angry as he was when Zanon had presented them with similar news so long ago.
She felt her heart sink, and couldn’t help but wonder where she had gone wrong as a mother that two of her four sons had made the same mistake. What part of her parenting had gone so wrong that this was a situation the family would find themselves in once more.
She didn’t speak out loud, but the look on her face and the disappointment in her eyes spoke volumes as she looked at her son. Her expression clearly showing that he had let her down greatly, despite his willingness to marry the woman so the child would not be born a bastard. Yanni wasn’t sure if she should be disappointed in her son, or herself for having raised him.
She sat there silently, unable to quite form any words that she wished to say to Vangelis, and knowing that Tython would likely have words that would speak for the both of them. Vang seemed more intent on getting his fathers reaction than his mothers anyways. She had been there when Zanon had told his father similar news, and she had witnessed an anger in her husband that she hadn’t been witness to before. She doubted that Vang quite knew what he was in for if the King were to have the same reaction.
Yanni absolutely hated the thought of another Thanasi woman in her family, let alone one that would one day hold the title she now held. It seemed that the Thanasi family wasn’t content enough to have wormed one daughter into the Kotas’, they had to get another in there. She doubted this was an accident, not on the Thanasi’s behalf anyways.
No, this was part of a plan for the family to take power, she was sure of it. And apparently both of her eldest sons were fool enough to fall for it.
“Gods I hope my remaining two sons are the smart ones.” She said, not meaning to say the words outloud, but they slipped past her normally composed self. She was frustrated, first at being interrupted and then at the news that this interruption had brought. She wanted nothing more than to stand from her spot sitting on the side of the bed and smack Vangelis on the back of the head. Perhaps if she hit him hard enough it would knock some sense into him.
She fell silent once more, her gaze switching to her husband, attempting to determine what thoughts must be going through his head.
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Yanni waited, knowing that what ever news had driven Vangelis to their door after they retired was not going to be good. Many scenarios ran through her head, but never in her life did she think that her eldest son would make the same mistake as her second son had so many years ago. And yet his words rang clear in the room, hanging heavy between son and parents. She knew that her husband would likely be as angry as he was when Zanon had presented them with similar news so long ago.
She felt her heart sink, and couldn’t help but wonder where she had gone wrong as a mother that two of her four sons had made the same mistake. What part of her parenting had gone so wrong that this was a situation the family would find themselves in once more.
She didn’t speak out loud, but the look on her face and the disappointment in her eyes spoke volumes as she looked at her son. Her expression clearly showing that he had let her down greatly, despite his willingness to marry the woman so the child would not be born a bastard. Yanni wasn’t sure if she should be disappointed in her son, or herself for having raised him.
She sat there silently, unable to quite form any words that she wished to say to Vangelis, and knowing that Tython would likely have words that would speak for the both of them. Vang seemed more intent on getting his fathers reaction than his mothers anyways. She had been there when Zanon had told his father similar news, and she had witnessed an anger in her husband that she hadn’t been witness to before. She doubted that Vang quite knew what he was in for if the King were to have the same reaction.
Yanni absolutely hated the thought of another Thanasi woman in her family, let alone one that would one day hold the title she now held. It seemed that the Thanasi family wasn’t content enough to have wormed one daughter into the Kotas’, they had to get another in there. She doubted this was an accident, not on the Thanasi’s behalf anyways.
No, this was part of a plan for the family to take power, she was sure of it. And apparently both of her eldest sons were fool enough to fall for it.
“Gods I hope my remaining two sons are the smart ones.” She said, not meaning to say the words outloud, but they slipped past her normally composed self. She was frustrated, first at being interrupted and then at the news that this interruption had brought. She wanted nothing more than to stand from her spot sitting on the side of the bed and smack Vangelis on the back of the head. Perhaps if she hit him hard enough it would knock some sense into him.
She fell silent once more, her gaze switching to her husband, attempting to determine what thoughts must be going through his head.
Yanni waited, knowing that what ever news had driven Vangelis to their door after they retired was not going to be good. Many scenarios ran through her head, but never in her life did she think that her eldest son would make the same mistake as her second son had so many years ago. And yet his words rang clear in the room, hanging heavy between son and parents. She knew that her husband would likely be as angry as he was when Zanon had presented them with similar news so long ago.
She felt her heart sink, and couldn’t help but wonder where she had gone wrong as a mother that two of her four sons had made the same mistake. What part of her parenting had gone so wrong that this was a situation the family would find themselves in once more.
She didn’t speak out loud, but the look on her face and the disappointment in her eyes spoke volumes as she looked at her son. Her expression clearly showing that he had let her down greatly, despite his willingness to marry the woman so the child would not be born a bastard. Yanni wasn’t sure if she should be disappointed in her son, or herself for having raised him.
She sat there silently, unable to quite form any words that she wished to say to Vangelis, and knowing that Tython would likely have words that would speak for the both of them. Vang seemed more intent on getting his fathers reaction than his mothers anyways. She had been there when Zanon had told his father similar news, and she had witnessed an anger in her husband that she hadn’t been witness to before. She doubted that Vang quite knew what he was in for if the King were to have the same reaction.
Yanni absolutely hated the thought of another Thanasi woman in her family, let alone one that would one day hold the title she now held. It seemed that the Thanasi family wasn’t content enough to have wormed one daughter into the Kotas’, they had to get another in there. She doubted this was an accident, not on the Thanasi’s behalf anyways.
No, this was part of a plan for the family to take power, she was sure of it. And apparently both of her eldest sons were fool enough to fall for it.
“Gods I hope my remaining two sons are the smart ones.” She said, not meaning to say the words outloud, but they slipped past her normally composed self. She was frustrated, first at being interrupted and then at the news that this interruption had brought. She wanted nothing more than to stand from her spot sitting on the side of the bed and smack Vangelis on the back of the head. Perhaps if she hit him hard enough it would knock some sense into him.
She fell silent once more, her gaze switching to her husband, attempting to determine what thoughts must be going through his head.
The King very quickly found himself wishing that he had stepped away to at least dress his lower half. If only because the words that started to flow off Vangelis' lips and continued to do so for far too long left him feeling so heated with rage that he wanted to lay the boy out on the marble. Boy. He nearly scoffed to himself, fixing his gaze so intently on Vangelis that he may as well have been an enemy. He wasn't, and Vangelis would be forgiven overall, but Tython was still going to struggle to hold his tongue regardless.
His grip turned almost savage on the blanket around his waist, his knuckles turning a color he often did not see unless he was on a killing field. The color his skin turned when adrenaline coursed his veins and he held his blade so hard that he felt like he might snap the hilt in half. Except this was soft fabric and his fingers ached in a much different way.
Tython also spoke no words at first, only staring blankly at his eldest son for the longest time. Then he lifted a hand as if to illustrate that he needed a moment and stepped away from the bed in order to bring himself around to a small privacy screen that he had tossed his breeches over previously. The blanket made an almost muted shuffling sound as it hit the floor. Tython pulled his pants off from over the screen and slipped one leg and then the other into them, hiking them up and securing the clasp. He didn't bother with a shirt, stalking out from behind the screen with both of his fists clenched sharply at his sides and his shoulders as tense as a lion held back by a gladiators spear.
The king's irritation was clear in his gaze, though his tone was as calm as ever. He reached for Vangelis, pressing his hand against the back of the prince's neck. He lightly gripped his neck, turning the boy away from the bedchamber of his quarters and walking him into the common area slowly. "Is that all, Vangelis?" he asked calmly, wanting to lash out but knowing that would do no one any good. If anything, he was far more angry than when Zanon pulled a similar stunt, but his anger was cold and calm and it would remain that way.
When he and Vangelis were in the sitting area, he let go of his son and then looked the man right in the face. "You are a man, and I trust you to make the decisions that will be best for the Kingdom as the future King of Colchis," Tython said evenly, his dark brows furrowed, "I was hoping for more forethought from you," he said blandly, crossing his arms against his chest and putting a bit of distance between himself and Vangelis. "The choices you make now pave the path of your future. As you've made your bed, I'm going to let you, and Colchis, lay in it. If you're done," Tython said calmly, motioning to the door of his chambers as if he was immediately being dismissed. "Unless there is something else."
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The King very quickly found himself wishing that he had stepped away to at least dress his lower half. If only because the words that started to flow off Vangelis' lips and continued to do so for far too long left him feeling so heated with rage that he wanted to lay the boy out on the marble. Boy. He nearly scoffed to himself, fixing his gaze so intently on Vangelis that he may as well have been an enemy. He wasn't, and Vangelis would be forgiven overall, but Tython was still going to struggle to hold his tongue regardless.
His grip turned almost savage on the blanket around his waist, his knuckles turning a color he often did not see unless he was on a killing field. The color his skin turned when adrenaline coursed his veins and he held his blade so hard that he felt like he might snap the hilt in half. Except this was soft fabric and his fingers ached in a much different way.
Tython also spoke no words at first, only staring blankly at his eldest son for the longest time. Then he lifted a hand as if to illustrate that he needed a moment and stepped away from the bed in order to bring himself around to a small privacy screen that he had tossed his breeches over previously. The blanket made an almost muted shuffling sound as it hit the floor. Tython pulled his pants off from over the screen and slipped one leg and then the other into them, hiking them up and securing the clasp. He didn't bother with a shirt, stalking out from behind the screen with both of his fists clenched sharply at his sides and his shoulders as tense as a lion held back by a gladiators spear.
The king's irritation was clear in his gaze, though his tone was as calm as ever. He reached for Vangelis, pressing his hand against the back of the prince's neck. He lightly gripped his neck, turning the boy away from the bedchamber of his quarters and walking him into the common area slowly. "Is that all, Vangelis?" he asked calmly, wanting to lash out but knowing that would do no one any good. If anything, he was far more angry than when Zanon pulled a similar stunt, but his anger was cold and calm and it would remain that way.
When he and Vangelis were in the sitting area, he let go of his son and then looked the man right in the face. "You are a man, and I trust you to make the decisions that will be best for the Kingdom as the future King of Colchis," Tython said evenly, his dark brows furrowed, "I was hoping for more forethought from you," he said blandly, crossing his arms against his chest and putting a bit of distance between himself and Vangelis. "The choices you make now pave the path of your future. As you've made your bed, I'm going to let you, and Colchis, lay in it. If you're done," Tython said calmly, motioning to the door of his chambers as if he was immediately being dismissed. "Unless there is something else."
The King very quickly found himself wishing that he had stepped away to at least dress his lower half. If only because the words that started to flow off Vangelis' lips and continued to do so for far too long left him feeling so heated with rage that he wanted to lay the boy out on the marble. Boy. He nearly scoffed to himself, fixing his gaze so intently on Vangelis that he may as well have been an enemy. He wasn't, and Vangelis would be forgiven overall, but Tython was still going to struggle to hold his tongue regardless.
His grip turned almost savage on the blanket around his waist, his knuckles turning a color he often did not see unless he was on a killing field. The color his skin turned when adrenaline coursed his veins and he held his blade so hard that he felt like he might snap the hilt in half. Except this was soft fabric and his fingers ached in a much different way.
Tython also spoke no words at first, only staring blankly at his eldest son for the longest time. Then he lifted a hand as if to illustrate that he needed a moment and stepped away from the bed in order to bring himself around to a small privacy screen that he had tossed his breeches over previously. The blanket made an almost muted shuffling sound as it hit the floor. Tython pulled his pants off from over the screen and slipped one leg and then the other into them, hiking them up and securing the clasp. He didn't bother with a shirt, stalking out from behind the screen with both of his fists clenched sharply at his sides and his shoulders as tense as a lion held back by a gladiators spear.
The king's irritation was clear in his gaze, though his tone was as calm as ever. He reached for Vangelis, pressing his hand against the back of the prince's neck. He lightly gripped his neck, turning the boy away from the bedchamber of his quarters and walking him into the common area slowly. "Is that all, Vangelis?" he asked calmly, wanting to lash out but knowing that would do no one any good. If anything, he was far more angry than when Zanon pulled a similar stunt, but his anger was cold and calm and it would remain that way.
When he and Vangelis were in the sitting area, he let go of his son and then looked the man right in the face. "You are a man, and I trust you to make the decisions that will be best for the Kingdom as the future King of Colchis," Tython said evenly, his dark brows furrowed, "I was hoping for more forethought from you," he said blandly, crossing his arms against his chest and putting a bit of distance between himself and Vangelis. "The choices you make now pave the path of your future. As you've made your bed, I'm going to let you, and Colchis, lay in it. If you're done," Tython said calmly, motioning to the door of his chambers as if he was immediately being dismissed. "Unless there is something else."
One thing could be said for Vangelis... He did not pander; he did not beg. And he did not ask for forgiveness. A man fully aware of his mistakes when he made them and able to berate and chastise himself enough to need no such judgement from others, he saw little in the ways of regret and forgiveness. What was done had been done. And he could not alter that fact whether he had his parent's forgiveness or not. It would be what it was, and it was down to the King and Queen to decide how they felt about it... about him.
So, unable to snivel and weep and claim ignorance or grief, Vangelis said nothing. He didn't argue that he had been able to have a sexual relationship with Thea for near eight years with no such outcome. He didn't lay claim to intelligent trust based on experience where Thea was concerned. He didn't defend the fact that he had never made such a mistake in his role of Prince or General ever before. And he didn't seek an excuse in the fact that the single instance of conception had occurred when he had been out of his mind with grief and stress of taking over from a father that he had believed to be dead. All would have been defensible; all would have held some kind of value in most logical arguments. But Vangelis had been raised to understand that intentions didn't matter. Actions were what counted. And he had failed his family and his kingdom by placing physical desire above common sense.
When his mother spoke the words of stupidity under her breath, implying Vangelis' lack of intelligence, he felt his brow tighten and his jaw clench shut. There was a tear somewhere in his gut that made him feel as if the acid of his belly were burning away at his innards. To hear his mother claim disappointment in him as an entirely new experience and one that he was not physically comfortable with. Even his guts knew that he should be punished; roasted from the inside out for his ineptitude.
He said nothing, however, defended himself not at all, and gave no reaction to his mother's comment. He stood firmly and with resolve, awaiting his father's verdict as he changed into clothing and wondering if the man might be dressing simply so that he could have his hands free and lay him to the floor. He was half tempted to believe such a suspicion when Tython came forwards and wrapped a hand around Vangelis' neck. Vangelis remained tall and unyielding under his father's touch.
"Yes, Sire." The words left his mouth in a respectful and formal bark of a soldier to his commanding officer, and Vangelis met his father's gaze with a strength unlikely for a condemned man. Again, there was nothing he could do about the situation. He had made his choice. And soon his father would not be here to make comment on such choices. He had to stand by his decisions himself; whether they led to victory or disaster.
Under his father's guidance via the hand on the back of his neck, Vangelis was turned and encouraged back towards the parlour chamber of his parents' suite. He followed where he was bid but the straight back of a man who retained his honour.
As far as he was concerned, he had made a mistake. And now he was honouring it and doing the right thing. If his parents disagreed with that - however gutting that was to him personally - it would not sway him from his choice and would not dent his honour when he believed himself to be doing the right thing.
His father offered a similar yet still dismissive and frustrated reaction to Vangelis' revelations. Turning to face his son and releasing his hold, Tython gave his verdict. Vangelis gave no reaction to the chastisement he was laboured with, beyond a simple swallow that might have spoken of shame in such disappointment from his father.
When Tython asked if there was anything else and dismissed him from the room, Vangelis turned to leave with the efficiency and determination of a soldier dismissed from his monthly review.
"No sir." He confirmed, before turning and heading for the door.
As he approached the portal, reaching of the hand that would offer him an escape from the awkwardness in the room, Vangelis paused. His shoulders stiffened and his fingers flexed around the handle in a moment of self-preservation. For a moment, he thought to defend himself. To insist that he had only ever done what he thought to be right. But such excuses were not valid. Intentions did not matter. Only actions.
So, after a moment’s hesitation, Vangelis turned the handle, opened the door and left his mother and father to the news that he had dropped upon them.
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One thing could be said for Vangelis... He did not pander; he did not beg. And he did not ask for forgiveness. A man fully aware of his mistakes when he made them and able to berate and chastise himself enough to need no such judgement from others, he saw little in the ways of regret and forgiveness. What was done had been done. And he could not alter that fact whether he had his parent's forgiveness or not. It would be what it was, and it was down to the King and Queen to decide how they felt about it... about him.
So, unable to snivel and weep and claim ignorance or grief, Vangelis said nothing. He didn't argue that he had been able to have a sexual relationship with Thea for near eight years with no such outcome. He didn't lay claim to intelligent trust based on experience where Thea was concerned. He didn't defend the fact that he had never made such a mistake in his role of Prince or General ever before. And he didn't seek an excuse in the fact that the single instance of conception had occurred when he had been out of his mind with grief and stress of taking over from a father that he had believed to be dead. All would have been defensible; all would have held some kind of value in most logical arguments. But Vangelis had been raised to understand that intentions didn't matter. Actions were what counted. And he had failed his family and his kingdom by placing physical desire above common sense.
When his mother spoke the words of stupidity under her breath, implying Vangelis' lack of intelligence, he felt his brow tighten and his jaw clench shut. There was a tear somewhere in his gut that made him feel as if the acid of his belly were burning away at his innards. To hear his mother claim disappointment in him as an entirely new experience and one that he was not physically comfortable with. Even his guts knew that he should be punished; roasted from the inside out for his ineptitude.
He said nothing, however, defended himself not at all, and gave no reaction to his mother's comment. He stood firmly and with resolve, awaiting his father's verdict as he changed into clothing and wondering if the man might be dressing simply so that he could have his hands free and lay him to the floor. He was half tempted to believe such a suspicion when Tython came forwards and wrapped a hand around Vangelis' neck. Vangelis remained tall and unyielding under his father's touch.
"Yes, Sire." The words left his mouth in a respectful and formal bark of a soldier to his commanding officer, and Vangelis met his father's gaze with a strength unlikely for a condemned man. Again, there was nothing he could do about the situation. He had made his choice. And soon his father would not be here to make comment on such choices. He had to stand by his decisions himself; whether they led to victory or disaster.
Under his father's guidance via the hand on the back of his neck, Vangelis was turned and encouraged back towards the parlour chamber of his parents' suite. He followed where he was bid but the straight back of a man who retained his honour.
As far as he was concerned, he had made a mistake. And now he was honouring it and doing the right thing. If his parents disagreed with that - however gutting that was to him personally - it would not sway him from his choice and would not dent his honour when he believed himself to be doing the right thing.
His father offered a similar yet still dismissive and frustrated reaction to Vangelis' revelations. Turning to face his son and releasing his hold, Tython gave his verdict. Vangelis gave no reaction to the chastisement he was laboured with, beyond a simple swallow that might have spoken of shame in such disappointment from his father.
When Tython asked if there was anything else and dismissed him from the room, Vangelis turned to leave with the efficiency and determination of a soldier dismissed from his monthly review.
"No sir." He confirmed, before turning and heading for the door.
As he approached the portal, reaching of the hand that would offer him an escape from the awkwardness in the room, Vangelis paused. His shoulders stiffened and his fingers flexed around the handle in a moment of self-preservation. For a moment, he thought to defend himself. To insist that he had only ever done what he thought to be right. But such excuses were not valid. Intentions did not matter. Only actions.
So, after a moment’s hesitation, Vangelis turned the handle, opened the door and left his mother and father to the news that he had dropped upon them.
One thing could be said for Vangelis... He did not pander; he did not beg. And he did not ask for forgiveness. A man fully aware of his mistakes when he made them and able to berate and chastise himself enough to need no such judgement from others, he saw little in the ways of regret and forgiveness. What was done had been done. And he could not alter that fact whether he had his parent's forgiveness or not. It would be what it was, and it was down to the King and Queen to decide how they felt about it... about him.
So, unable to snivel and weep and claim ignorance or grief, Vangelis said nothing. He didn't argue that he had been able to have a sexual relationship with Thea for near eight years with no such outcome. He didn't lay claim to intelligent trust based on experience where Thea was concerned. He didn't defend the fact that he had never made such a mistake in his role of Prince or General ever before. And he didn't seek an excuse in the fact that the single instance of conception had occurred when he had been out of his mind with grief and stress of taking over from a father that he had believed to be dead. All would have been defensible; all would have held some kind of value in most logical arguments. But Vangelis had been raised to understand that intentions didn't matter. Actions were what counted. And he had failed his family and his kingdom by placing physical desire above common sense.
When his mother spoke the words of stupidity under her breath, implying Vangelis' lack of intelligence, he felt his brow tighten and his jaw clench shut. There was a tear somewhere in his gut that made him feel as if the acid of his belly were burning away at his innards. To hear his mother claim disappointment in him as an entirely new experience and one that he was not physically comfortable with. Even his guts knew that he should be punished; roasted from the inside out for his ineptitude.
He said nothing, however, defended himself not at all, and gave no reaction to his mother's comment. He stood firmly and with resolve, awaiting his father's verdict as he changed into clothing and wondering if the man might be dressing simply so that he could have his hands free and lay him to the floor. He was half tempted to believe such a suspicion when Tython came forwards and wrapped a hand around Vangelis' neck. Vangelis remained tall and unyielding under his father's touch.
"Yes, Sire." The words left his mouth in a respectful and formal bark of a soldier to his commanding officer, and Vangelis met his father's gaze with a strength unlikely for a condemned man. Again, there was nothing he could do about the situation. He had made his choice. And soon his father would not be here to make comment on such choices. He had to stand by his decisions himself; whether they led to victory or disaster.
Under his father's guidance via the hand on the back of his neck, Vangelis was turned and encouraged back towards the parlour chamber of his parents' suite. He followed where he was bid but the straight back of a man who retained his honour.
As far as he was concerned, he had made a mistake. And now he was honouring it and doing the right thing. If his parents disagreed with that - however gutting that was to him personally - it would not sway him from his choice and would not dent his honour when he believed himself to be doing the right thing.
His father offered a similar yet still dismissive and frustrated reaction to Vangelis' revelations. Turning to face his son and releasing his hold, Tython gave his verdict. Vangelis gave no reaction to the chastisement he was laboured with, beyond a simple swallow that might have spoken of shame in such disappointment from his father.
When Tython asked if there was anything else and dismissed him from the room, Vangelis turned to leave with the efficiency and determination of a soldier dismissed from his monthly review.
"No sir." He confirmed, before turning and heading for the door.
As he approached the portal, reaching of the hand that would offer him an escape from the awkwardness in the room, Vangelis paused. His shoulders stiffened and his fingers flexed around the handle in a moment of self-preservation. For a moment, he thought to defend himself. To insist that he had only ever done what he thought to be right. But such excuses were not valid. Intentions did not matter. Only actions.
So, after a moment’s hesitation, Vangelis turned the handle, opened the door and left his mother and father to the news that he had dropped upon them.
Yanni could feel the waves of rage rolling off of her husband who sat beside her, a familiar feeling, but one she had only felt a few times before. One of them being when their second son had presented the same problem years ago. Now it seemed that Vangelis was copying Zanon in such things, and Tython didn’t take the news any better the second time around. She remained silent, she had already said what she had to say to her son, and she was sure that he understood just how she felt about the entire situation.
She remained seated as Tython lead their son away, clearly wishing to speak to him out of her ear shot, and she knew better than to try and push her way into what ever conversation the men were having. She would speak to Tython once their son was gone, and she would determine then whether her husband wanted to talk about the situation, or if he needed some time to process to himself. What ever he needed, Yanni would be there, she could deal with her own thoughts and feelings later.
When the Queen heard the door close, signalling her son’s exit from their room, she stood and let her feet move her over towards her husband. She stood at his side, resting one hand on his broad chest, looking up at the much taller man, the man she had loved for the majority of her life, and the man she would remain loyal to for what ever time she had remaining.
“My King.” She spoke softly, her gaze speaking more than her words did. She would do what ever he needed her to, support him in any way he needed while he worked out what ever he was feeling. This was huge news for the family, and a huge disappointment because she knew how much Tython had been looking forward to having Selene be part of their family. Yanni had as well, she had seemed like such a sweet woman, and her son had seemed to have quite strong feelings for her.
Unfortunately it seemed as if life had another path for Vangelis, and it was not a path that his parents agreed with. She could see how it was the right thing to do, at least from Vangelis’ side of things, but for the future of Colchis, and as the future King, having a Thanasi as the Queen was not ideal. She did not trust the family, nor the woman that he had gotten pregnant.
For now, Yanni would put that aside though, in favour of supporting her own husband. She would think on things herself later, and sort out her own feelings. For now, her focus was solely on her husband and how he felt.
“Come my love, let us go back to bed, and we will work this out how ever you prefer.” She said softly, attempting to guide him to the bed, though if he resisted, she could do little to move her much larger husband.
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Yanni could feel the waves of rage rolling off of her husband who sat beside her, a familiar feeling, but one she had only felt a few times before. One of them being when their second son had presented the same problem years ago. Now it seemed that Vangelis was copying Zanon in such things, and Tython didn’t take the news any better the second time around. She remained silent, she had already said what she had to say to her son, and she was sure that he understood just how she felt about the entire situation.
She remained seated as Tython lead their son away, clearly wishing to speak to him out of her ear shot, and she knew better than to try and push her way into what ever conversation the men were having. She would speak to Tython once their son was gone, and she would determine then whether her husband wanted to talk about the situation, or if he needed some time to process to himself. What ever he needed, Yanni would be there, she could deal with her own thoughts and feelings later.
When the Queen heard the door close, signalling her son’s exit from their room, she stood and let her feet move her over towards her husband. She stood at his side, resting one hand on his broad chest, looking up at the much taller man, the man she had loved for the majority of her life, and the man she would remain loyal to for what ever time she had remaining.
“My King.” She spoke softly, her gaze speaking more than her words did. She would do what ever he needed her to, support him in any way he needed while he worked out what ever he was feeling. This was huge news for the family, and a huge disappointment because she knew how much Tython had been looking forward to having Selene be part of their family. Yanni had as well, she had seemed like such a sweet woman, and her son had seemed to have quite strong feelings for her.
Unfortunately it seemed as if life had another path for Vangelis, and it was not a path that his parents agreed with. She could see how it was the right thing to do, at least from Vangelis’ side of things, but for the future of Colchis, and as the future King, having a Thanasi as the Queen was not ideal. She did not trust the family, nor the woman that he had gotten pregnant.
For now, Yanni would put that aside though, in favour of supporting her own husband. She would think on things herself later, and sort out her own feelings. For now, her focus was solely on her husband and how he felt.
“Come my love, let us go back to bed, and we will work this out how ever you prefer.” She said softly, attempting to guide him to the bed, though if he resisted, she could do little to move her much larger husband.
Yanni could feel the waves of rage rolling off of her husband who sat beside her, a familiar feeling, but one she had only felt a few times before. One of them being when their second son had presented the same problem years ago. Now it seemed that Vangelis was copying Zanon in such things, and Tython didn’t take the news any better the second time around. She remained silent, she had already said what she had to say to her son, and she was sure that he understood just how she felt about the entire situation.
She remained seated as Tython lead their son away, clearly wishing to speak to him out of her ear shot, and she knew better than to try and push her way into what ever conversation the men were having. She would speak to Tython once their son was gone, and she would determine then whether her husband wanted to talk about the situation, or if he needed some time to process to himself. What ever he needed, Yanni would be there, she could deal with her own thoughts and feelings later.
When the Queen heard the door close, signalling her son’s exit from their room, she stood and let her feet move her over towards her husband. She stood at his side, resting one hand on his broad chest, looking up at the much taller man, the man she had loved for the majority of her life, and the man she would remain loyal to for what ever time she had remaining.
“My King.” She spoke softly, her gaze speaking more than her words did. She would do what ever he needed her to, support him in any way he needed while he worked out what ever he was feeling. This was huge news for the family, and a huge disappointment because she knew how much Tython had been looking forward to having Selene be part of their family. Yanni had as well, she had seemed like such a sweet woman, and her son had seemed to have quite strong feelings for her.
Unfortunately it seemed as if life had another path for Vangelis, and it was not a path that his parents agreed with. She could see how it was the right thing to do, at least from Vangelis’ side of things, but for the future of Colchis, and as the future King, having a Thanasi as the Queen was not ideal. She did not trust the family, nor the woman that he had gotten pregnant.
For now, Yanni would put that aside though, in favour of supporting her own husband. She would think on things herself later, and sort out her own feelings. For now, her focus was solely on her husband and how he felt.
“Come my love, let us go back to bed, and we will work this out how ever you prefer.” She said softly, attempting to guide him to the bed, though if he resisted, she could do little to move her much larger husband.
He was seething. Generally, the king would have also left the room and gone to his forge. It was his way of coping with anger that he could not often let out in any other outlet. But his hours with his wife were numbered before he returned to war, and escaping into solitude was the very last thing that he wanted to do. Now when she was here and warm and beautiful and she made his anger melt almost immediately.
It was amazing what touch did. She brought her hand down against his chest and he reached for it, bringing her knuckles up to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss there. They were alone again and he didn't want to think long and hard about how he felt he had failed both of his sons. Had he not taught them better? Truth be told, he could not fault Evras. She was sweeter than he had ever expected and he found that he had a soft spot for her. It had grown over the years, but Tython had come to love her as the daughter she had become. Protective to a fault, he did actually adore the Thanasi princess.
Tython even had a bit of a weak spot for Thea, if only because she was much like Evras in temperament. They seemed worlds away and entirely different from their elder sister or their father. In that instant, it seemed as if the reports on Lady Thea's actions when Vangelis had been poisoned made so much more sense after the fact. What would Tython had done if he had been in such a situation? He wasn't so it was hard to imagine, but he would have taken the same course of action. Married the mother of his child rather than the one who made him happy and who was good for the whole fo the Kingdom.
Frowning deeply, Tython simply sighed. "He is doing what is right in his mind, and what both you and I would consider correct form," the king reasoned quietly, closing his eyes a moment as if to sort out his thoughts. "I am angry, but I find it harder to fault him now than I did moments ago. As much as I do with it would be Lady Selene that will sit upon our throne, we can't change what Vangelis has done and we will have to be secure in the thought that if Vangelis truly thought that Lady Thea would be bad all around for his Kingdom, he would not have done the honorable thing at all."
Letting himself breathe a moment, he simply held Yanni's hand now, letting her push him back toward their bed chamber. Smiling a little weakly, "I'm still angry," he repeated, wanting her to know that he was unhappy by the news, though he wouldn't dwell on it for long now that it was done and over with. He was far too old to keep holding onto his anger like this. Not when there were so many ways to relieve the strain. Like wandering back to bed with his queen where it was safe and warm and she felt of the heavens. "I think you know what I want," the king declared quietly, leaning down to catch her lips and twist them both around so that it was Yanni that now had to walk backwards.
And he put Vangelis and Lady Thea entirely out of his mind, ready to simply face the music come morning and not a moment before.
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He was seething. Generally, the king would have also left the room and gone to his forge. It was his way of coping with anger that he could not often let out in any other outlet. But his hours with his wife were numbered before he returned to war, and escaping into solitude was the very last thing that he wanted to do. Now when she was here and warm and beautiful and she made his anger melt almost immediately.
It was amazing what touch did. She brought her hand down against his chest and he reached for it, bringing her knuckles up to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss there. They were alone again and he didn't want to think long and hard about how he felt he had failed both of his sons. Had he not taught them better? Truth be told, he could not fault Evras. She was sweeter than he had ever expected and he found that he had a soft spot for her. It had grown over the years, but Tython had come to love her as the daughter she had become. Protective to a fault, he did actually adore the Thanasi princess.
Tython even had a bit of a weak spot for Thea, if only because she was much like Evras in temperament. They seemed worlds away and entirely different from their elder sister or their father. In that instant, it seemed as if the reports on Lady Thea's actions when Vangelis had been poisoned made so much more sense after the fact. What would Tython had done if he had been in such a situation? He wasn't so it was hard to imagine, but he would have taken the same course of action. Married the mother of his child rather than the one who made him happy and who was good for the whole fo the Kingdom.
Frowning deeply, Tython simply sighed. "He is doing what is right in his mind, and what both you and I would consider correct form," the king reasoned quietly, closing his eyes a moment as if to sort out his thoughts. "I am angry, but I find it harder to fault him now than I did moments ago. As much as I do with it would be Lady Selene that will sit upon our throne, we can't change what Vangelis has done and we will have to be secure in the thought that if Vangelis truly thought that Lady Thea would be bad all around for his Kingdom, he would not have done the honorable thing at all."
Letting himself breathe a moment, he simply held Yanni's hand now, letting her push him back toward their bed chamber. Smiling a little weakly, "I'm still angry," he repeated, wanting her to know that he was unhappy by the news, though he wouldn't dwell on it for long now that it was done and over with. He was far too old to keep holding onto his anger like this. Not when there were so many ways to relieve the strain. Like wandering back to bed with his queen where it was safe and warm and she felt of the heavens. "I think you know what I want," the king declared quietly, leaning down to catch her lips and twist them both around so that it was Yanni that now had to walk backwards.
And he put Vangelis and Lady Thea entirely out of his mind, ready to simply face the music come morning and not a moment before.
He was seething. Generally, the king would have also left the room and gone to his forge. It was his way of coping with anger that he could not often let out in any other outlet. But his hours with his wife were numbered before he returned to war, and escaping into solitude was the very last thing that he wanted to do. Now when she was here and warm and beautiful and she made his anger melt almost immediately.
It was amazing what touch did. She brought her hand down against his chest and he reached for it, bringing her knuckles up to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss there. They were alone again and he didn't want to think long and hard about how he felt he had failed both of his sons. Had he not taught them better? Truth be told, he could not fault Evras. She was sweeter than he had ever expected and he found that he had a soft spot for her. It had grown over the years, but Tython had come to love her as the daughter she had become. Protective to a fault, he did actually adore the Thanasi princess.
Tython even had a bit of a weak spot for Thea, if only because she was much like Evras in temperament. They seemed worlds away and entirely different from their elder sister or their father. In that instant, it seemed as if the reports on Lady Thea's actions when Vangelis had been poisoned made so much more sense after the fact. What would Tython had done if he had been in such a situation? He wasn't so it was hard to imagine, but he would have taken the same course of action. Married the mother of his child rather than the one who made him happy and who was good for the whole fo the Kingdom.
Frowning deeply, Tython simply sighed. "He is doing what is right in his mind, and what both you and I would consider correct form," the king reasoned quietly, closing his eyes a moment as if to sort out his thoughts. "I am angry, but I find it harder to fault him now than I did moments ago. As much as I do with it would be Lady Selene that will sit upon our throne, we can't change what Vangelis has done and we will have to be secure in the thought that if Vangelis truly thought that Lady Thea would be bad all around for his Kingdom, he would not have done the honorable thing at all."
Letting himself breathe a moment, he simply held Yanni's hand now, letting her push him back toward their bed chamber. Smiling a little weakly, "I'm still angry," he repeated, wanting her to know that he was unhappy by the news, though he wouldn't dwell on it for long now that it was done and over with. He was far too old to keep holding onto his anger like this. Not when there were so many ways to relieve the strain. Like wandering back to bed with his queen where it was safe and warm and she felt of the heavens. "I think you know what I want," the king declared quietly, leaning down to catch her lips and twist them both around so that it was Yanni that now had to walk backwards.
And he put Vangelis and Lady Thea entirely out of his mind, ready to simply face the music come morning and not a moment before.