Vangelis was not one for celebrations.

Not because he was a doldrum or because he hated anything that involved cheer and light-heartedness. If he was honest and his thoughts vocalised fewer would call him the Stone Prince and his true feelings would be more obvious to the masses. Such events as these made Vangelis' heart soar. It made his chest expand and his soul feel lighter. This was what he had fought for over half his life to protect. This was what he spent so many weeks, months and years away from his home for - fighting those who might take the freedom of his people. This was life. And it was what Vangelis had vowed since he was fourteen to do everything in his power to keep safe.

So, within his own mind and his own conscience, Vangelis loved these kinds of events. He loved seeing the bright colours of the market stalls, the smiling faces of his people - the joy and abandon that the music and dancing were able to give to those who might tomorrow have to wake up with pressures on their shoulders and burdens on their backs.

The reason Vangelis was not one for such events, however, was the simple fact that, in order to protect this kind of enjoyment - his own world had been taken down a very particular path. One that was not conducive to building social skills or making him comfortable interacting with strangers or large groups of people.

There was a discipline to the army. A rigidity that was clear, structured and secure. And within that Vangelis had total control. He was General, he was Prince, - the drachmae stopped with him. In this kind of situation, there was no control. There was no order. Everyone was all over the place. And that meant anything could happen at any time. And it was hard for a seasoned military man to turn off those concerns at the wave of a hand or the sip from a wine cup. A man used to living on the edge of death for so long saw danger everywhere. There was little they could do about it. And so relaxing - when the world around them was in joyful abandon - was hard.

Vangelis could tell that the same feeling applied to Lazaros, who walked with them around the market but did so in the same way that Vangelis meandered - with straight back, sharp eyes and head on a swivel. There was no relaxation about the two men.

Leaving Nike to handle Asia and his brothers being able to handle themselves, Vangelis attempted to blend and inspect the items at some of the stalls he passed. It was harder than it might seem given that his mere presence at any stall had the owner standing straighter, bowing and acting generally unnaturally. Not easy to act like everyone else when you were never treated as such.

The only time in which he caught himself lingering was at a stall from one of the southern isles - not far from Greece but outside of normal trading routes. The woman who owned it was dark in skin-tone and had jet black hair and eyes. She smiled and her teeth were shock of pearly white in her face.

"Anything in particular I can help you with, Your Highness?" The woman asked, the aged creases in her face suddenly obvious in her smile.

Vangelis frowned and pointed at a particular item to the back of the table.

"What is that?" He asked the woman, his tone polite and his words efficient.

The woman reached for the item, the bangles on her wrist clinking as she moved and selected the item he had identified. The piece was a small statue of white marble, soft and shiny white with ribbons of the palest blue. It was about four inches tall and appropriate in proportion to its depiction. A small, shrouded adonis, the feminine male figure holding his cloak around himself; not in fear but in pleasant comfort.

"'Tis Phantasos, my Lord." The woman said. "Son of Hypnos... It was sold to be at a temple in the South. I was told it would promote good dreams..."

Vangelis was not a man to delay over decisions and linger on choices. He paid for the item, took it from the woman who wrapped it in a piece of cloth to protect its smooth surface and then placed the purchase inside the small leather bag at his belt, with the rest of his money.

By the time he had moved to catch up with his family, his sister Asia had joined her cousin and - to Vangelis' great surprise - Lazaros, out in the middle of the courtyard in order to dance along to the merry music.

Vangelis watched for a while, standing to one side and folding his arms to watch the jovial pandemonium with hard features but kind eyes.

It wasn't long, however, before he started to notice that Asia was not her usual rambunctious self. Her movements were a little languid and she was starting to appear ungraceful.

Concerned that she was too tired to remain out for the evening and that she would damage her image as the princess among the Kotas men by appearing ungainly if she was involved in the entertainment for much longer, Vangelis decided it was time to call her activities to an end and escort her back to the Kotas manor.

Moving the head through the crowd towards his sister, Vangelis made only a small detour to tap on the shoulder of one Magnus - the man who was one of his most trusted advisors in anything outside of the military.

"I'll see you at the manor first thing in the morning, Magnus." Vangelis commented. "I leave the kingdom in a week's time. We have things to discuss."

Vangelis' eyes lingered on Timaeus, noting his recent bruises without reaction. He had yet to decide whether one of the things he would be speaking with Magnus about was the House of Valaoritis and their recent transgression against his sister in law.

But it was standard, at least, for him to speak with the man before he left the kingdom. He always liked to be in touch with Magnus both as soon as he arrived and immediately before he left. They were able to exchange information on exactly what was happening within a kingdom Vangelis intended to rule but was rarely in attendance of.

Having settled that piece of business, Vangelis bowed his head politely at the Lady Iolanthe based on her gender and then headed towards his sister where he stopped her dancing with a simple hand to her shoulder.

"I think it time to call an end to this evening." He encouraged her, his hand moving from her shoulder to her arm, where he hooked it through his own to escort her.

"Lord Lazaros, perhaps you might offer your services to escort the Lady Imeeya home?" He suggested, before offering Imeeya the same nod he had given Iolanthe. "You'll have to excuse myself and the princess, cousin. Enjoy the rest of the celebrations."

And with that, Vangelis steered his sister away from the festivities regardless of protest.

Looking around and catching site of his nephew with the young Eliades boys - two menaces that he could never tell apart. Vangelis simply stood watching them until the three of them came to a crashing halt in their adventures. Once he had their attention, he simply raised an eyebrow, his meaning clear, as Dion bid his goodbyes and hurried over to join his uncle and aunt.

"Come on..." He told the boy. "Your parents will be waiting."

And having somehow become the official baby-sitter to the youngest members of his family, Vangelis guided the two of them through the crowds, occasionally placing a large hand on his nephew's head in order to redirect him towards less crowded areas or out of the path of on-coming merchants, blind over their bundles of goods.

This was what life would have in store for him. Guiding small children and tethering teenagers... God help him if he ever had kids...