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Always, Elias of Stravos tried to keep his emotions in check. To balance one's feelings against the bulwark of rationale was an almost impossible task, for it pitted Elias against himself. There were countless enemies of the Stravos lineage, enemies that were for himself, Keikelius and Circenia to fight. But, no matter what the conflict, Elias of Stravos could not bring himself to admit the faults of self. To reveal such flaws was without question the greatest form of self-sabotage for a young baron on the precipice of rule. And now, more than ever, it was impossible for him to fight that battle.
Elias of Stravos was in pain. He felt the choking, searing heat of humiliation, of resentment that swelled into anger, and the anguish. Anguish was unacceptable. It was the weakness that Elias refused to reconcile. Others could experience it and in fact, many had at the hands of the lord. But for him to share this with his family was impossible. In this moment, Elias could only think of one person to share this with. Marietta was the Stravos' closest confidante, a woman he'd known all of his life, and while she wasn't the closest friend with whom he could share the heights of achievement, she was the greatest of his allies in times of crisis.
His only ally in times of crisis.
It was the lord's first trip back from the barony of Lyncestia. He'd used anger as an outlet, fury let out like an arrow allowed to fly. And in his wake, three vandals were strung together and left to die in one cavern among many in the coves of his province. Their bodies would never be found and rather than feel remorse, his rage did not subside. It persisted, a distraction from his anger up until he allowed himself the opportunity to consult with Marietta, after his schedule was let to rest for a few days. Elias had no intention of seeing anyone else. He brought no one with him, and when the lord at last met with a servant, his features were a mask.
"Fetch me Lady Marietta of Antonis. No one else is to know of this meeting," he warned, letting the implication hover as a blade in the night. The sun began to set in Athenia, and the Headlord's first objective once arriving was this. He'd tell Marietta, try to, at last, separate himself from the hatred. From the disdain of it all.
Feelings have never been my strong suit, but perhaps they are Marietta's. She knows me. Not the baron of Lyncestia. She knows ME. And she can help me with how to move forward, he ruminated. Once it was clear that Marietta was retrieved and there was no one else to intercept their conversation, the lord gestured for her to follow him. Always, the lord needed to be secretive. Always, he needed to present the mask. For, it was easier and better for undue rumours to form than even the slightest implication of a truth he refused to accept to do so.
No one else can know. Not the details, he reflected. Of course, given time, Elias and Iris' separation would be known to the public, but Marietta could help him understand his own feelings about the matter before everyone else gathered their own assumptions.
She can help patch up the holes in the mask, he thought as they left Lord Alehandros' estate and guided her out and into the remainder of the inner circle. More than most everyone else in the royal houses, Elias enjoyed his walks, and he was of the sort to bring Marietta in on them.
"It's over, Marietta," he admitted to her.
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Rage.
Always, Elias of Stravos tried to keep his emotions in check. To balance one's feelings against the bulwark of rationale was an almost impossible task, for it pitted Elias against himself. There were countless enemies of the Stravos lineage, enemies that were for himself, Keikelius and Circenia to fight. But, no matter what the conflict, Elias of Stravos could not bring himself to admit the faults of self. To reveal such flaws was without question the greatest form of self-sabotage for a young baron on the precipice of rule. And now, more than ever, it was impossible for him to fight that battle.
Elias of Stravos was in pain. He felt the choking, searing heat of humiliation, of resentment that swelled into anger, and the anguish. Anguish was unacceptable. It was the weakness that Elias refused to reconcile. Others could experience it and in fact, many had at the hands of the lord. But for him to share this with his family was impossible. In this moment, Elias could only think of one person to share this with. Marietta was the Stravos' closest confidante, a woman he'd known all of his life, and while she wasn't the closest friend with whom he could share the heights of achievement, she was the greatest of his allies in times of crisis.
His only ally in times of crisis.
It was the lord's first trip back from the barony of Lyncestia. He'd used anger as an outlet, fury let out like an arrow allowed to fly. And in his wake, three vandals were strung together and left to die in one cavern among many in the coves of his province. Their bodies would never be found and rather than feel remorse, his rage did not subside. It persisted, a distraction from his anger up until he allowed himself the opportunity to consult with Marietta, after his schedule was let to rest for a few days. Elias had no intention of seeing anyone else. He brought no one with him, and when the lord at last met with a servant, his features were a mask.
"Fetch me Lady Marietta of Antonis. No one else is to know of this meeting," he warned, letting the implication hover as a blade in the night. The sun began to set in Athenia, and the Headlord's first objective once arriving was this. He'd tell Marietta, try to, at last, separate himself from the hatred. From the disdain of it all.
Feelings have never been my strong suit, but perhaps they are Marietta's. She knows me. Not the baron of Lyncestia. She knows ME. And she can help me with how to move forward, he ruminated. Once it was clear that Marietta was retrieved and there was no one else to intercept their conversation, the lord gestured for her to follow him. Always, the lord needed to be secretive. Always, he needed to present the mask. For, it was easier and better for undue rumours to form than even the slightest implication of a truth he refused to accept to do so.
No one else can know. Not the details, he reflected. Of course, given time, Elias and Iris' separation would be known to the public, but Marietta could help him understand his own feelings about the matter before everyone else gathered their own assumptions.
She can help patch up the holes in the mask, he thought as they left Lord Alehandros' estate and guided her out and into the remainder of the inner circle. More than most everyone else in the royal houses, Elias enjoyed his walks, and he was of the sort to bring Marietta in on them.
"It's over, Marietta," he admitted to her.
Rage.
Always, Elias of Stravos tried to keep his emotions in check. To balance one's feelings against the bulwark of rationale was an almost impossible task, for it pitted Elias against himself. There were countless enemies of the Stravos lineage, enemies that were for himself, Keikelius and Circenia to fight. But, no matter what the conflict, Elias of Stravos could not bring himself to admit the faults of self. To reveal such flaws was without question the greatest form of self-sabotage for a young baron on the precipice of rule. And now, more than ever, it was impossible for him to fight that battle.
Elias of Stravos was in pain. He felt the choking, searing heat of humiliation, of resentment that swelled into anger, and the anguish. Anguish was unacceptable. It was the weakness that Elias refused to reconcile. Others could experience it and in fact, many had at the hands of the lord. But for him to share this with his family was impossible. In this moment, Elias could only think of one person to share this with. Marietta was the Stravos' closest confidante, a woman he'd known all of his life, and while she wasn't the closest friend with whom he could share the heights of achievement, she was the greatest of his allies in times of crisis.
His only ally in times of crisis.
It was the lord's first trip back from the barony of Lyncestia. He'd used anger as an outlet, fury let out like an arrow allowed to fly. And in his wake, three vandals were strung together and left to die in one cavern among many in the coves of his province. Their bodies would never be found and rather than feel remorse, his rage did not subside. It persisted, a distraction from his anger up until he allowed himself the opportunity to consult with Marietta, after his schedule was let to rest for a few days. Elias had no intention of seeing anyone else. He brought no one with him, and when the lord at last met with a servant, his features were a mask.
"Fetch me Lady Marietta of Antonis. No one else is to know of this meeting," he warned, letting the implication hover as a blade in the night. The sun began to set in Athenia, and the Headlord's first objective once arriving was this. He'd tell Marietta, try to, at last, separate himself from the hatred. From the disdain of it all.
Feelings have never been my strong suit, but perhaps they are Marietta's. She knows me. Not the baron of Lyncestia. She knows ME. And she can help me with how to move forward, he ruminated. Once it was clear that Marietta was retrieved and there was no one else to intercept their conversation, the lord gestured for her to follow him. Always, the lord needed to be secretive. Always, he needed to present the mask. For, it was easier and better for undue rumours to form than even the slightest implication of a truth he refused to accept to do so.
No one else can know. Not the details, he reflected. Of course, given time, Elias and Iris' separation would be known to the public, but Marietta could help him understand his own feelings about the matter before everyone else gathered their own assumptions.
She can help patch up the holes in the mask, he thought as they left Lord Alehandros' estate and guided her out and into the remainder of the inner circle. More than most everyone else in the royal houses, Elias enjoyed his walks, and he was of the sort to bring Marietta in on them.
"It's over, Marietta," he admitted to her.
Mischievous, light, and easily raised, but hard to bear and difficult to get rid of.
Marietta made a mistake. There was no way around that fact. She made a terrible mistake. The nervous girl who struggled so often to find words suffered that fate to the woman who could cause a great pain to whom she cared so much for. Marietta enjoyed gossip. It was something she partook with often to Sofia. It was an easy way to get a topic started, and the more scandalous the words, the easier it was to carry the conversation. Marietta, however, typically only had idle rumors. Her words carried no weight and only served for momentary amusement. She was not anyone who knew anything. She did not put herself in situations that she did not belong.
But this time, everything was different.
One single moment, a lapse in judgement, had Marietta speaking when best silent. Nervousness around Iris, the woman her best friend was dating, forced words from her lips about a moment that she had witnessed earlier that day. A kiss at the market with someone other than Iris. It was a merchant’s wife from the looks of it. And nothing afterwards could take back the rumor Marietta put into the world. Perhaps it wasn’t him. She could try to say. I must have seen wrong. But the only thing, in Marietta’s mind, sharper than a knife is the venomous tongue of those who shares secrets. In that moment Marietta’s tongue was a dagger going straight towards her friend’s heart.
Regret could not will that day away. Marietta had to live with the consequences and guilt that riddled her. Her stomach fell ill, sensitive to all but water. Her heart felt heavy in the passing days. She could only hope that Iris did not take any stock to her words. She could only pray Marietta looked like a gossip spinning tales for attention. Marietta would rather tarnish her own reputation than interfere with Eli’s relationship.
“Lady Marietta?” A voice called to her. It was a quiet day, both a blessing and a curse. There was no one to bother her. No siblings seeking her attention, parents making any requests. It was a day where Marietta could be left alone to her own devices, specifically painting. It was also a day, however, where she was left alone to her thoughts. The thoughts translated to the work she was creating. Dark colors swirled together, crashing and fighting each other in a sea of guilt and remorse. “Lord Elias of Stravos calls for you.”
Marietta’s hand slipped, pushing the vase off the surface with a crash. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He knew. He knew of Marietta’s misdeeds. Was he here to yell? To punish her? To break their years of friendship? Any and all of that would be deserved. Disloyalty was something Marietta abhorred, and it was something that she herself had done to Elias.
“Clean this up,” Marietta told the servant as she stood to her feet. She had to gather herself. She ignored her stomach as it raged a battle within. The young woman left the room she was in, careful to step over the shards of vase, and went to greet her friend.
She followed him as he led her away from those who might bear witness to their conversation. Each step they took made Marietta’s heart beat harder and harder. She was ready for the anger, the vitriol that may deservedly come from her friend. It didn’t come, however. Instead three simple words were said.
Did he not know? Marietta did not know how to react at first. Did Iris not tell him what the two had spoken about previously? Or maybe Elias was testing her, seeing if his friend would be honest? Marietta blinked, confused at first.
“By your hand or her’s?” Marietta’s voice was soft and even. She kept her eyes ahead, only glancing occasionally at her friend as they walked. She had not wanted to meet his eyes, should Elias see the guilt hidden beneath them. Marietta knew not how to lie outside a game of dice, but should it preserve their friendship and even his feelings, she would attempt to learn on this day.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Mischievous, light, and easily raised, but hard to bear and difficult to get rid of.
Marietta made a mistake. There was no way around that fact. She made a terrible mistake. The nervous girl who struggled so often to find words suffered that fate to the woman who could cause a great pain to whom she cared so much for. Marietta enjoyed gossip. It was something she partook with often to Sofia. It was an easy way to get a topic started, and the more scandalous the words, the easier it was to carry the conversation. Marietta, however, typically only had idle rumors. Her words carried no weight and only served for momentary amusement. She was not anyone who knew anything. She did not put herself in situations that she did not belong.
But this time, everything was different.
One single moment, a lapse in judgement, had Marietta speaking when best silent. Nervousness around Iris, the woman her best friend was dating, forced words from her lips about a moment that she had witnessed earlier that day. A kiss at the market with someone other than Iris. It was a merchant’s wife from the looks of it. And nothing afterwards could take back the rumor Marietta put into the world. Perhaps it wasn’t him. She could try to say. I must have seen wrong. But the only thing, in Marietta’s mind, sharper than a knife is the venomous tongue of those who shares secrets. In that moment Marietta’s tongue was a dagger going straight towards her friend’s heart.
Regret could not will that day away. Marietta had to live with the consequences and guilt that riddled her. Her stomach fell ill, sensitive to all but water. Her heart felt heavy in the passing days. She could only hope that Iris did not take any stock to her words. She could only pray Marietta looked like a gossip spinning tales for attention. Marietta would rather tarnish her own reputation than interfere with Eli’s relationship.
“Lady Marietta?” A voice called to her. It was a quiet day, both a blessing and a curse. There was no one to bother her. No siblings seeking her attention, parents making any requests. It was a day where Marietta could be left alone to her own devices, specifically painting. It was also a day, however, where she was left alone to her thoughts. The thoughts translated to the work she was creating. Dark colors swirled together, crashing and fighting each other in a sea of guilt and remorse. “Lord Elias of Stravos calls for you.”
Marietta’s hand slipped, pushing the vase off the surface with a crash. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He knew. He knew of Marietta’s misdeeds. Was he here to yell? To punish her? To break their years of friendship? Any and all of that would be deserved. Disloyalty was something Marietta abhorred, and it was something that she herself had done to Elias.
“Clean this up,” Marietta told the servant as she stood to her feet. She had to gather herself. She ignored her stomach as it raged a battle within. The young woman left the room she was in, careful to step over the shards of vase, and went to greet her friend.
She followed him as he led her away from those who might bear witness to their conversation. Each step they took made Marietta’s heart beat harder and harder. She was ready for the anger, the vitriol that may deservedly come from her friend. It didn’t come, however. Instead three simple words were said.
Did he not know? Marietta did not know how to react at first. Did Iris not tell him what the two had spoken about previously? Or maybe Elias was testing her, seeing if his friend would be honest? Marietta blinked, confused at first.
“By your hand or her’s?” Marietta’s voice was soft and even. She kept her eyes ahead, only glancing occasionally at her friend as they walked. She had not wanted to meet his eyes, should Elias see the guilt hidden beneath them. Marietta knew not how to lie outside a game of dice, but should it preserve their friendship and even his feelings, she would attempt to learn on this day.
Mischievous, light, and easily raised, but hard to bear and difficult to get rid of.
Marietta made a mistake. There was no way around that fact. She made a terrible mistake. The nervous girl who struggled so often to find words suffered that fate to the woman who could cause a great pain to whom she cared so much for. Marietta enjoyed gossip. It was something she partook with often to Sofia. It was an easy way to get a topic started, and the more scandalous the words, the easier it was to carry the conversation. Marietta, however, typically only had idle rumors. Her words carried no weight and only served for momentary amusement. She was not anyone who knew anything. She did not put herself in situations that she did not belong.
But this time, everything was different.
One single moment, a lapse in judgement, had Marietta speaking when best silent. Nervousness around Iris, the woman her best friend was dating, forced words from her lips about a moment that she had witnessed earlier that day. A kiss at the market with someone other than Iris. It was a merchant’s wife from the looks of it. And nothing afterwards could take back the rumor Marietta put into the world. Perhaps it wasn’t him. She could try to say. I must have seen wrong. But the only thing, in Marietta’s mind, sharper than a knife is the venomous tongue of those who shares secrets. In that moment Marietta’s tongue was a dagger going straight towards her friend’s heart.
Regret could not will that day away. Marietta had to live with the consequences and guilt that riddled her. Her stomach fell ill, sensitive to all but water. Her heart felt heavy in the passing days. She could only hope that Iris did not take any stock to her words. She could only pray Marietta looked like a gossip spinning tales for attention. Marietta would rather tarnish her own reputation than interfere with Eli’s relationship.
“Lady Marietta?” A voice called to her. It was a quiet day, both a blessing and a curse. There was no one to bother her. No siblings seeking her attention, parents making any requests. It was a day where Marietta could be left alone to her own devices, specifically painting. It was also a day, however, where she was left alone to her thoughts. The thoughts translated to the work she was creating. Dark colors swirled together, crashing and fighting each other in a sea of guilt and remorse. “Lord Elias of Stravos calls for you.”
Marietta’s hand slipped, pushing the vase off the surface with a crash. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He knew. He knew of Marietta’s misdeeds. Was he here to yell? To punish her? To break their years of friendship? Any and all of that would be deserved. Disloyalty was something Marietta abhorred, and it was something that she herself had done to Elias.
“Clean this up,” Marietta told the servant as she stood to her feet. She had to gather herself. She ignored her stomach as it raged a battle within. The young woman left the room she was in, careful to step over the shards of vase, and went to greet her friend.
She followed him as he led her away from those who might bear witness to their conversation. Each step they took made Marietta’s heart beat harder and harder. She was ready for the anger, the vitriol that may deservedly come from her friend. It didn’t come, however. Instead three simple words were said.
Did he not know? Marietta did not know how to react at first. Did Iris not tell him what the two had spoken about previously? Or maybe Elias was testing her, seeing if his friend would be honest? Marietta blinked, confused at first.
“By your hand or her’s?” Marietta’s voice was soft and even. She kept her eyes ahead, only glancing occasionally at her friend as they walked. She had not wanted to meet his eyes, should Elias see the guilt hidden beneath them. Marietta knew not how to lie outside a game of dice, but should it preserve their friendship and even his feelings, she would attempt to learn on this day.
Elias of Stravos was unaccustomed to the sensation of failure. Always, he placed himself in positions that found failure difficult to rear its ugly head. Business propositions that seemed attractive coming from immaculate lips. Warm bodies that seared pleasure and satisfaction through his mind and loins. The rule of his lands even, a newer trial and tribulation but one he found suited his sensibilities. Even the roles he took on invited success rather than the premise of failure or being given to someone more talented. Everything that Elias of Stravos did in his past invited success, and the idea of losing a woman due to something directly related to a failure of his? It repulsed him. Iris left the details of her rationale vague, and that more than the act itself drew his ire.
He wanted to hate her. He needed to hate her for the idea of being repulsed by oneself was something left to the ugly, the weak and the lesser worms of the world. Elias of Stravos? There was only perfection and absolute beauty that others could hate for their infinite jealousy roused it within them. He convinced himself of that fact, but whatever he made himself think, it did not stop the burning within his chest at the idea of being unable to visit this woman in Argyris manor or summon her to Athenia. Separation was a foul beast, for the hunger for her made appetite for others turn stale and rancid by comparison. What creature could compare to the exquisite Iris of Argyris, who made him feel such foreign feelings that seemed so welcome at the sight of her?
The disappointment and frustration turned to anger, unable to understand the what and why of how he felt or what was happening inside of him. It drew curiosity from him to see Marietta seem so tense around him. Worse still, she tried to hide it. It was not an altogether unfamiliar sight, for the reputation and power Elias of Stravos wielded was perhaps an intimidating thing. But, the girl he'd known since childhood, the young woman who went to all of his performances? It was impossible for him not to know the feelings that rested on her expression, even as the source of them escaped his understanding.
"Hers," he seethed, taking them further along. The pillars of one of Athenia's many forums surrounded them, and Elias allowed his hand to drift along the length of one before he took them along. Not one to remain still for very long, Elias was forced to slow his stride in order to keep Marietta next to him. Having to turn back and speak to her or having her huffing and puffing in an effort to catch up to him simply wouldn't do. The girl had enough anxieties about being in public to exacerbate them by exhausting her.
"Without cause or explanation. It's infuriating! How could she do that to me. If she wants to end it... Fine! But tell me the cause or be known as a coward!" He struggled not to raise his voice, the normally confident tones thick with the anger and conflict that resided. It grew more and more difficult to remain calm, and the gaze he met Marietta with was suffused with the suffering he imposed upon himself. It was an ill look for him, he was sure, but nonetheless, he kept it obscured from the rest of the forum. Elias of Stravos raised his himation over his head like a hood, one of the very few times he'd ever chosen to hide his face from public scrutiny.
"I want to hate her," he insisted, knowing very well the lie that escaped him.
"But... before I do... You're on good terms with Lady Iris, aren't you? Could you try to figure out what happened to make her hate me so much as to torment me with ignorance?"
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Elias of Stravos was unaccustomed to the sensation of failure. Always, he placed himself in positions that found failure difficult to rear its ugly head. Business propositions that seemed attractive coming from immaculate lips. Warm bodies that seared pleasure and satisfaction through his mind and loins. The rule of his lands even, a newer trial and tribulation but one he found suited his sensibilities. Even the roles he took on invited success rather than the premise of failure or being given to someone more talented. Everything that Elias of Stravos did in his past invited success, and the idea of losing a woman due to something directly related to a failure of his? It repulsed him. Iris left the details of her rationale vague, and that more than the act itself drew his ire.
He wanted to hate her. He needed to hate her for the idea of being repulsed by oneself was something left to the ugly, the weak and the lesser worms of the world. Elias of Stravos? There was only perfection and absolute beauty that others could hate for their infinite jealousy roused it within them. He convinced himself of that fact, but whatever he made himself think, it did not stop the burning within his chest at the idea of being unable to visit this woman in Argyris manor or summon her to Athenia. Separation was a foul beast, for the hunger for her made appetite for others turn stale and rancid by comparison. What creature could compare to the exquisite Iris of Argyris, who made him feel such foreign feelings that seemed so welcome at the sight of her?
The disappointment and frustration turned to anger, unable to understand the what and why of how he felt or what was happening inside of him. It drew curiosity from him to see Marietta seem so tense around him. Worse still, she tried to hide it. It was not an altogether unfamiliar sight, for the reputation and power Elias of Stravos wielded was perhaps an intimidating thing. But, the girl he'd known since childhood, the young woman who went to all of his performances? It was impossible for him not to know the feelings that rested on her expression, even as the source of them escaped his understanding.
"Hers," he seethed, taking them further along. The pillars of one of Athenia's many forums surrounded them, and Elias allowed his hand to drift along the length of one before he took them along. Not one to remain still for very long, Elias was forced to slow his stride in order to keep Marietta next to him. Having to turn back and speak to her or having her huffing and puffing in an effort to catch up to him simply wouldn't do. The girl had enough anxieties about being in public to exacerbate them by exhausting her.
"Without cause or explanation. It's infuriating! How could she do that to me. If she wants to end it... Fine! But tell me the cause or be known as a coward!" He struggled not to raise his voice, the normally confident tones thick with the anger and conflict that resided. It grew more and more difficult to remain calm, and the gaze he met Marietta with was suffused with the suffering he imposed upon himself. It was an ill look for him, he was sure, but nonetheless, he kept it obscured from the rest of the forum. Elias of Stravos raised his himation over his head like a hood, one of the very few times he'd ever chosen to hide his face from public scrutiny.
"I want to hate her," he insisted, knowing very well the lie that escaped him.
"But... before I do... You're on good terms with Lady Iris, aren't you? Could you try to figure out what happened to make her hate me so much as to torment me with ignorance?"
Elias of Stravos was unaccustomed to the sensation of failure. Always, he placed himself in positions that found failure difficult to rear its ugly head. Business propositions that seemed attractive coming from immaculate lips. Warm bodies that seared pleasure and satisfaction through his mind and loins. The rule of his lands even, a newer trial and tribulation but one he found suited his sensibilities. Even the roles he took on invited success rather than the premise of failure or being given to someone more talented. Everything that Elias of Stravos did in his past invited success, and the idea of losing a woman due to something directly related to a failure of his? It repulsed him. Iris left the details of her rationale vague, and that more than the act itself drew his ire.
He wanted to hate her. He needed to hate her for the idea of being repulsed by oneself was something left to the ugly, the weak and the lesser worms of the world. Elias of Stravos? There was only perfection and absolute beauty that others could hate for their infinite jealousy roused it within them. He convinced himself of that fact, but whatever he made himself think, it did not stop the burning within his chest at the idea of being unable to visit this woman in Argyris manor or summon her to Athenia. Separation was a foul beast, for the hunger for her made appetite for others turn stale and rancid by comparison. What creature could compare to the exquisite Iris of Argyris, who made him feel such foreign feelings that seemed so welcome at the sight of her?
The disappointment and frustration turned to anger, unable to understand the what and why of how he felt or what was happening inside of him. It drew curiosity from him to see Marietta seem so tense around him. Worse still, she tried to hide it. It was not an altogether unfamiliar sight, for the reputation and power Elias of Stravos wielded was perhaps an intimidating thing. But, the girl he'd known since childhood, the young woman who went to all of his performances? It was impossible for him not to know the feelings that rested on her expression, even as the source of them escaped his understanding.
"Hers," he seethed, taking them further along. The pillars of one of Athenia's many forums surrounded them, and Elias allowed his hand to drift along the length of one before he took them along. Not one to remain still for very long, Elias was forced to slow his stride in order to keep Marietta next to him. Having to turn back and speak to her or having her huffing and puffing in an effort to catch up to him simply wouldn't do. The girl had enough anxieties about being in public to exacerbate them by exhausting her.
"Without cause or explanation. It's infuriating! How could she do that to me. If she wants to end it... Fine! But tell me the cause or be known as a coward!" He struggled not to raise his voice, the normally confident tones thick with the anger and conflict that resided. It grew more and more difficult to remain calm, and the gaze he met Marietta with was suffused with the suffering he imposed upon himself. It was an ill look for him, he was sure, but nonetheless, he kept it obscured from the rest of the forum. Elias of Stravos raised his himation over his head like a hood, one of the very few times he'd ever chosen to hide his face from public scrutiny.
"I want to hate her," he insisted, knowing very well the lie that escaped him.
"But... before I do... You're on good terms with Lady Iris, aren't you? Could you try to figure out what happened to make her hate me so much as to torment me with ignorance?"
Time was like like the ocean. Most days it ebbed in and out, at a calm steady pace. But then others it would catch you in its current. And no matter how hard you struggled, no matter how hard you wished you could go back, you were trapped and left to suffocate, drown in your foolish decisions and worst regrets. Marietta could feel time as it washed over her, dragging it down to it’s darkest pits. With each passing second she choked more and more, it’s tendrils wrapping around her throat. There was no escape. There was no going back. Marietta was at time’s whim.
She could feel the anger radiating off of her friend. As they move forward the guilt in her stomach continued to boil. This was her fault. She caused Iris and Elias an insurmountable amount of pain. She said words that she could never take back? And for what reason? What did Marietta hope to gain? Nothing, absolutely nothing.
Her eyes for the most part were trained ahead of her. Occasionally she would look at Elias only for her eyes to move back to where they were. Marietta worried if her face was betraying her. If there was one person who could see through that facade it would be Elias, the man who taught it to her years prior.
Due to Marietta’s exiguous social abilities she had made a mess. Her rumor stymied their relationship, preventing what could have been a refulgent love. And now she was presented with the decision of whether or not honesty would be the best course of action. And as he questioned the reasoning, spewed anger from the lack of clarity, Marietta’s heart squeezed more. She knew the reason: His best friend had a loose tongue.
But was she completely to blame? Should she had remained silent, would that have saved their relationship? Could that not had been said about the misplaced kiss Elias shared at the market? Did they not share responsibility for this outcome? Must Marietta bear all the blame on her shoulders alone?
Once Elias finally finished speaking, Marietta looked up. “Me.. close with Iris? Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” She wasn’t a stranger to the Lady, but Marietta could hardly say close. “I… I don’t know if I would be the best one for that job. I, well you know how I struggle to speak with people.”
“But without any cause? Are you sure?” Marietta raised an eyebrow at her hooded friend. “Perhaps that may be true. Women are fickle creatures. We often change our minds on a whim. But, let’s look at this through the eyes of Iris, shall we? Was there anything that you’ve said that could have upset her? Or… anything you’ve done?” Marietta spoke carefully. “The politesse of court and the politesse of courtship are not one and the same. Is there any instance that you can think of that may have upset the Lady?”
Marietta ran a hand through the soft waves of her hair. She was getting nervous as she toed the line towards the real reason. How did she let her friend know without pointing blame to herself? He deserved to know the reason, simply not the… full reason. Having all the information would not help him in his suffering, after all. “Either way, Eli. She made a mistake. One that she will regret with time. And you can lament, you can suffer, or you can prove to her and to everyone else that doubts you that you are not a man to be tormented by, as you say, ignorance.”
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Time was like like the ocean. Most days it ebbed in and out, at a calm steady pace. But then others it would catch you in its current. And no matter how hard you struggled, no matter how hard you wished you could go back, you were trapped and left to suffocate, drown in your foolish decisions and worst regrets. Marietta could feel time as it washed over her, dragging it down to it’s darkest pits. With each passing second she choked more and more, it’s tendrils wrapping around her throat. There was no escape. There was no going back. Marietta was at time’s whim.
She could feel the anger radiating off of her friend. As they move forward the guilt in her stomach continued to boil. This was her fault. She caused Iris and Elias an insurmountable amount of pain. She said words that she could never take back? And for what reason? What did Marietta hope to gain? Nothing, absolutely nothing.
Her eyes for the most part were trained ahead of her. Occasionally she would look at Elias only for her eyes to move back to where they were. Marietta worried if her face was betraying her. If there was one person who could see through that facade it would be Elias, the man who taught it to her years prior.
Due to Marietta’s exiguous social abilities she had made a mess. Her rumor stymied their relationship, preventing what could have been a refulgent love. And now she was presented with the decision of whether or not honesty would be the best course of action. And as he questioned the reasoning, spewed anger from the lack of clarity, Marietta’s heart squeezed more. She knew the reason: His best friend had a loose tongue.
But was she completely to blame? Should she had remained silent, would that have saved their relationship? Could that not had been said about the misplaced kiss Elias shared at the market? Did they not share responsibility for this outcome? Must Marietta bear all the blame on her shoulders alone?
Once Elias finally finished speaking, Marietta looked up. “Me.. close with Iris? Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” She wasn’t a stranger to the Lady, but Marietta could hardly say close. “I… I don’t know if I would be the best one for that job. I, well you know how I struggle to speak with people.”
“But without any cause? Are you sure?” Marietta raised an eyebrow at her hooded friend. “Perhaps that may be true. Women are fickle creatures. We often change our minds on a whim. But, let’s look at this through the eyes of Iris, shall we? Was there anything that you’ve said that could have upset her? Or… anything you’ve done?” Marietta spoke carefully. “The politesse of court and the politesse of courtship are not one and the same. Is there any instance that you can think of that may have upset the Lady?”
Marietta ran a hand through the soft waves of her hair. She was getting nervous as she toed the line towards the real reason. How did she let her friend know without pointing blame to herself? He deserved to know the reason, simply not the… full reason. Having all the information would not help him in his suffering, after all. “Either way, Eli. She made a mistake. One that she will regret with time. And you can lament, you can suffer, or you can prove to her and to everyone else that doubts you that you are not a man to be tormented by, as you say, ignorance.”
Time was like like the ocean. Most days it ebbed in and out, at a calm steady pace. But then others it would catch you in its current. And no matter how hard you struggled, no matter how hard you wished you could go back, you were trapped and left to suffocate, drown in your foolish decisions and worst regrets. Marietta could feel time as it washed over her, dragging it down to it’s darkest pits. With each passing second she choked more and more, it’s tendrils wrapping around her throat. There was no escape. There was no going back. Marietta was at time’s whim.
She could feel the anger radiating off of her friend. As they move forward the guilt in her stomach continued to boil. This was her fault. She caused Iris and Elias an insurmountable amount of pain. She said words that she could never take back? And for what reason? What did Marietta hope to gain? Nothing, absolutely nothing.
Her eyes for the most part were trained ahead of her. Occasionally she would look at Elias only for her eyes to move back to where they were. Marietta worried if her face was betraying her. If there was one person who could see through that facade it would be Elias, the man who taught it to her years prior.
Due to Marietta’s exiguous social abilities she had made a mess. Her rumor stymied their relationship, preventing what could have been a refulgent love. And now she was presented with the decision of whether or not honesty would be the best course of action. And as he questioned the reasoning, spewed anger from the lack of clarity, Marietta’s heart squeezed more. She knew the reason: His best friend had a loose tongue.
But was she completely to blame? Should she had remained silent, would that have saved their relationship? Could that not had been said about the misplaced kiss Elias shared at the market? Did they not share responsibility for this outcome? Must Marietta bear all the blame on her shoulders alone?
Once Elias finally finished speaking, Marietta looked up. “Me.. close with Iris? Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” She wasn’t a stranger to the Lady, but Marietta could hardly say close. “I… I don’t know if I would be the best one for that job. I, well you know how I struggle to speak with people.”
“But without any cause? Are you sure?” Marietta raised an eyebrow at her hooded friend. “Perhaps that may be true. Women are fickle creatures. We often change our minds on a whim. But, let’s look at this through the eyes of Iris, shall we? Was there anything that you’ve said that could have upset her? Or… anything you’ve done?” Marietta spoke carefully. “The politesse of court and the politesse of courtship are not one and the same. Is there any instance that you can think of that may have upset the Lady?”
Marietta ran a hand through the soft waves of her hair. She was getting nervous as she toed the line towards the real reason. How did she let her friend know without pointing blame to herself? He deserved to know the reason, simply not the… full reason. Having all the information would not help him in his suffering, after all. “Either way, Eli. She made a mistake. One that she will regret with time. And you can lament, you can suffer, or you can prove to her and to everyone else that doubts you that you are not a man to be tormented by, as you say, ignorance.”
You know how I struggle to talk to people...
But, Marietta was the only person who could help him. Elias of Stravos did not trust his conquests with any sort of message or appeal to reason for the would-be Argyris baronness. She was as distant as Marietta liked to be, but more so, who else but Marietta could Elias trust with matters sensitive to the heart? She was among his closest of friends, a place where only Rafail of Marikas knew himself to be. However, unlike Rafail, who he spoke to of women and partied like animals with to his heart's content, that same heart could not share the deepest of feelings with the man. It was perhaps embarrassment, or the caution of reprimand from a slightly older playboy who shared so many of Elias' inclinations.
Before Iris, Elias did not think himself capable of feeling this way. Before Iris, Elias was pleased to entertain himself with the hearts and bodies of women. Before Iris, he never knew what it was to feel pain in his chest. The stabbing pain of rejection was something he'd never felt so staunchly, for while he'd been turned away by women for his conduct, never had he been thrown aside like this. Elias narrowed his gaze as Marietta went on, questioning him before going on to prove his point. What cause could there be but his falling out of favour for naught a reason? Then, she asked him to empathize, to look through the eyes of another, and he nearly rolled his eyes at the idea of it all.
Iris of Argyris challenged Elias, she was straight-forward with him in most respects and he had no doubt in his mind that if something he said or did to her was the cause of this nonsensical departure from the norm, he'd be informed of it. Did he underestimate her? Did his affections spurn him at the very end, in choosing a coward unwilling to share with him her grievances? White-hot rage coursed throughout his body as he listened to Marietta, shaking his head at the very notion of him upsetting her. There was misconduct, certainly, but the idea of being judged for something she could never known him to have done? Elias remembered the kiss he shared with the beautiful woman merchant that night, the only bit of misconduct he'd done in his time with Iris.
He thought on it, and still felt the taste of her lips on his own. He'd orchestrated the endeavor perfectly, letting his father meet with the husband as he sought to turn the wife to his intentions. Father was always so proficient at his negotiations, and he had no doubt that their success was guaranteed. However, Elias wanted more. He wanted to ensure that their purchases were ratified by both sides of the business and further still that they traded deeper into the favour of the Stravoses. He used his greatest gift, the Gods-given body to tempt her with, and while he'd not gone so far as to bed her, he'd kissed her under the setting sun and coaxed her into seeing the deal to his benefit.
But, Iris couldn't have possibly known about that. She was in Aetaea, and but a kiss? A kiss meant to secure a business tie even deeper than mere talk or commerce could entail? It was silly to think that Iris of Argyris would be so stupid as to fall into that ploy unless she was ignorant and the tale was told to her by other mouths less privy to the machinations of Stravos business tactics. He shook his head as he took to Marietta's gaze once more.
"You speak of possible betrayal, but there is nothing I have done to garner her ill will. While I do not see the benefit to any sort of monogamy and that lust is to be satisfied as it will..." he trailed off, knowing quite well he was venturing into reputation and into subject matter that might put his significantly more prudish friend ill at ease.
"Iris of Argyris is... of tastes to my own. I've not needed to stray in those desires, and there is no other who would hope to catch my eye while such a prize lays with me whenever either of us wishes it."
She mentioned the making of mistakes, and Elias couldn't help but agree. How could two so perfect in sync possibly venture apart but for the arrangement of a marriage that separated them? Elias was not so blind as to believe Iris capable of being his wife... but until either of them was married, he hoped for her to stay by his side.
"No. Ignorance is to be banished. You will not lead me astray with advice such as this. If you'll abstain from helping me, then I'll take other means to secure what I wish to know. It is disappointing, but I will find this out with or without you."
Resentment. It built within his chest, a fire ready to consume his heart altogether.
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You know how I struggle to talk to people...
But, Marietta was the only person who could help him. Elias of Stravos did not trust his conquests with any sort of message or appeal to reason for the would-be Argyris baronness. She was as distant as Marietta liked to be, but more so, who else but Marietta could Elias trust with matters sensitive to the heart? She was among his closest of friends, a place where only Rafail of Marikas knew himself to be. However, unlike Rafail, who he spoke to of women and partied like animals with to his heart's content, that same heart could not share the deepest of feelings with the man. It was perhaps embarrassment, or the caution of reprimand from a slightly older playboy who shared so many of Elias' inclinations.
Before Iris, Elias did not think himself capable of feeling this way. Before Iris, Elias was pleased to entertain himself with the hearts and bodies of women. Before Iris, he never knew what it was to feel pain in his chest. The stabbing pain of rejection was something he'd never felt so staunchly, for while he'd been turned away by women for his conduct, never had he been thrown aside like this. Elias narrowed his gaze as Marietta went on, questioning him before going on to prove his point. What cause could there be but his falling out of favour for naught a reason? Then, she asked him to empathize, to look through the eyes of another, and he nearly rolled his eyes at the idea of it all.
Iris of Argyris challenged Elias, she was straight-forward with him in most respects and he had no doubt in his mind that if something he said or did to her was the cause of this nonsensical departure from the norm, he'd be informed of it. Did he underestimate her? Did his affections spurn him at the very end, in choosing a coward unwilling to share with him her grievances? White-hot rage coursed throughout his body as he listened to Marietta, shaking his head at the very notion of him upsetting her. There was misconduct, certainly, but the idea of being judged for something she could never known him to have done? Elias remembered the kiss he shared with the beautiful woman merchant that night, the only bit of misconduct he'd done in his time with Iris.
He thought on it, and still felt the taste of her lips on his own. He'd orchestrated the endeavor perfectly, letting his father meet with the husband as he sought to turn the wife to his intentions. Father was always so proficient at his negotiations, and he had no doubt that their success was guaranteed. However, Elias wanted more. He wanted to ensure that their purchases were ratified by both sides of the business and further still that they traded deeper into the favour of the Stravoses. He used his greatest gift, the Gods-given body to tempt her with, and while he'd not gone so far as to bed her, he'd kissed her under the setting sun and coaxed her into seeing the deal to his benefit.
But, Iris couldn't have possibly known about that. She was in Aetaea, and but a kiss? A kiss meant to secure a business tie even deeper than mere talk or commerce could entail? It was silly to think that Iris of Argyris would be so stupid as to fall into that ploy unless she was ignorant and the tale was told to her by other mouths less privy to the machinations of Stravos business tactics. He shook his head as he took to Marietta's gaze once more.
"You speak of possible betrayal, but there is nothing I have done to garner her ill will. While I do not see the benefit to any sort of monogamy and that lust is to be satisfied as it will..." he trailed off, knowing quite well he was venturing into reputation and into subject matter that might put his significantly more prudish friend ill at ease.
"Iris of Argyris is... of tastes to my own. I've not needed to stray in those desires, and there is no other who would hope to catch my eye while such a prize lays with me whenever either of us wishes it."
She mentioned the making of mistakes, and Elias couldn't help but agree. How could two so perfect in sync possibly venture apart but for the arrangement of a marriage that separated them? Elias was not so blind as to believe Iris capable of being his wife... but until either of them was married, he hoped for her to stay by his side.
"No. Ignorance is to be banished. You will not lead me astray with advice such as this. If you'll abstain from helping me, then I'll take other means to secure what I wish to know. It is disappointing, but I will find this out with or without you."
Resentment. It built within his chest, a fire ready to consume his heart altogether.
You know how I struggle to talk to people...
But, Marietta was the only person who could help him. Elias of Stravos did not trust his conquests with any sort of message or appeal to reason for the would-be Argyris baronness. She was as distant as Marietta liked to be, but more so, who else but Marietta could Elias trust with matters sensitive to the heart? She was among his closest of friends, a place where only Rafail of Marikas knew himself to be. However, unlike Rafail, who he spoke to of women and partied like animals with to his heart's content, that same heart could not share the deepest of feelings with the man. It was perhaps embarrassment, or the caution of reprimand from a slightly older playboy who shared so many of Elias' inclinations.
Before Iris, Elias did not think himself capable of feeling this way. Before Iris, Elias was pleased to entertain himself with the hearts and bodies of women. Before Iris, he never knew what it was to feel pain in his chest. The stabbing pain of rejection was something he'd never felt so staunchly, for while he'd been turned away by women for his conduct, never had he been thrown aside like this. Elias narrowed his gaze as Marietta went on, questioning him before going on to prove his point. What cause could there be but his falling out of favour for naught a reason? Then, she asked him to empathize, to look through the eyes of another, and he nearly rolled his eyes at the idea of it all.
Iris of Argyris challenged Elias, she was straight-forward with him in most respects and he had no doubt in his mind that if something he said or did to her was the cause of this nonsensical departure from the norm, he'd be informed of it. Did he underestimate her? Did his affections spurn him at the very end, in choosing a coward unwilling to share with him her grievances? White-hot rage coursed throughout his body as he listened to Marietta, shaking his head at the very notion of him upsetting her. There was misconduct, certainly, but the idea of being judged for something she could never known him to have done? Elias remembered the kiss he shared with the beautiful woman merchant that night, the only bit of misconduct he'd done in his time with Iris.
He thought on it, and still felt the taste of her lips on his own. He'd orchestrated the endeavor perfectly, letting his father meet with the husband as he sought to turn the wife to his intentions. Father was always so proficient at his negotiations, and he had no doubt that their success was guaranteed. However, Elias wanted more. He wanted to ensure that their purchases were ratified by both sides of the business and further still that they traded deeper into the favour of the Stravoses. He used his greatest gift, the Gods-given body to tempt her with, and while he'd not gone so far as to bed her, he'd kissed her under the setting sun and coaxed her into seeing the deal to his benefit.
But, Iris couldn't have possibly known about that. She was in Aetaea, and but a kiss? A kiss meant to secure a business tie even deeper than mere talk or commerce could entail? It was silly to think that Iris of Argyris would be so stupid as to fall into that ploy unless she was ignorant and the tale was told to her by other mouths less privy to the machinations of Stravos business tactics. He shook his head as he took to Marietta's gaze once more.
"You speak of possible betrayal, but there is nothing I have done to garner her ill will. While I do not see the benefit to any sort of monogamy and that lust is to be satisfied as it will..." he trailed off, knowing quite well he was venturing into reputation and into subject matter that might put his significantly more prudish friend ill at ease.
"Iris of Argyris is... of tastes to my own. I've not needed to stray in those desires, and there is no other who would hope to catch my eye while such a prize lays with me whenever either of us wishes it."
She mentioned the making of mistakes, and Elias couldn't help but agree. How could two so perfect in sync possibly venture apart but for the arrangement of a marriage that separated them? Elias was not so blind as to believe Iris capable of being his wife... but until either of them was married, he hoped for her to stay by his side.
"No. Ignorance is to be banished. You will not lead me astray with advice such as this. If you'll abstain from helping me, then I'll take other means to secure what I wish to know. It is disappointing, but I will find this out with or without you."
Resentment. It built within his chest, a fire ready to consume his heart altogether.
The guilt was going to eat Marietta alive. Every word he spoke twisted her heart even more. She was suffocating under the weight of what she done. Her mask was slipping. How much longer could she hide this injustice that she did?
No, Marietta. It’s not your fault. Elias is the one who did wrong. All you did was tell the truth. A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered. And yet with that thought came a whole other wave of guilt. It was not Iris of Argyris that she was best friends with. It was not Iris who taught her dice, nor was it Iris who showed a real interest in her art when so many others cared not. She was not the one who coaxed Marietta out of her shy shell and became her first friend. She did not inspire Marietta to be better, to be braver, to step outside her zone of comfort and try something new. Iris was kind, yes, but she was not her friend, not like Elias was.
Loyalty was something that was important to the Antonis, to Marietta. Her family was loyal, to the crown, to the people, and Marietta showed that same trait to her friends and family. But by spreading one rumor, saying one thing to the wrong person, she caused that friend more hurt than she could have ever imagined possible. The one thing Marietta held so dear to her heart was forsaken in a moment’s foolishness. And what was once a palmy relationship withered away into nothing, leaving behind sadness and anger. Elias was likely not the only one in pain. She could not imagine the hurt Iris also went through. And so in this, Marietta disagreed with Elias. Ignorance should not be banished. It would have been better if the pair remained ignorant.
But Elias was not a man who stopped when it came to his desires, and right now his desires were focused on the unsaid knowledge that he believed only Iris had. And so when they had turned a corner and Marietta noticed that there truly were no people around, she stopped. Her eyes were trained completely on the ground. She could not look at her friend, for if she did he would see them shining with tears that she so rarely spilled. In fact, Marietta could not remember a time in which she cried in front of her friend. Even when in pain, the young Lady never cried. But the turmoil over the situation was threatening to crack the shield she held around her heart. The tears may yet roll.
“You kissed a woman,” Marietta said quietly. “At the market. I… I saw it. And I meant to forget it, I truly did, had I not later run into Iris. She was so kind helping me with my carriage when it had gotten stuck. And I… I’m so nervous. I babble, Elias. I hadn’t meant to say a word. I would never desire to hurt you, I swear it. And when I told her what I saw, I immediately regretted it. But there was no way to rewind time. There was no stopping the damage that was done. But even with the secret spilled, I didn’t think she would go this far. I’m so sorry, Elias. This… this isn’t something you deserve.”
When Marietta was six, it was Elias who first approached her. They played together, laughed together, and made memories together. Marietta would go to each of her friend’s plays, help him with his lines. Elias was always the first to see her paintings, even before her family, and to hear the songs that she created on her harp. Elias encouraged her in her creative pursuits, and in turn she did the same with whatever that she could. They had 12 years of friendship, so surely he must believe her when she said this was never what she intended.
Finally, glistening grey eyes looked up at her best friend. Marietta’s throat was tight and her heart was beating so fast that her chest hurt. “I really am sorry, Elias. And I will spend my days doing whatever I can to make it up for you. Should it be throwing my pride away and getting on my knees to Iris to beg her to change her mind, I will. This was my fault. This was all my fault.”
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The guilt was going to eat Marietta alive. Every word he spoke twisted her heart even more. She was suffocating under the weight of what she done. Her mask was slipping. How much longer could she hide this injustice that she did?
No, Marietta. It’s not your fault. Elias is the one who did wrong. All you did was tell the truth. A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered. And yet with that thought came a whole other wave of guilt. It was not Iris of Argyris that she was best friends with. It was not Iris who taught her dice, nor was it Iris who showed a real interest in her art when so many others cared not. She was not the one who coaxed Marietta out of her shy shell and became her first friend. She did not inspire Marietta to be better, to be braver, to step outside her zone of comfort and try something new. Iris was kind, yes, but she was not her friend, not like Elias was.
Loyalty was something that was important to the Antonis, to Marietta. Her family was loyal, to the crown, to the people, and Marietta showed that same trait to her friends and family. But by spreading one rumor, saying one thing to the wrong person, she caused that friend more hurt than she could have ever imagined possible. The one thing Marietta held so dear to her heart was forsaken in a moment’s foolishness. And what was once a palmy relationship withered away into nothing, leaving behind sadness and anger. Elias was likely not the only one in pain. She could not imagine the hurt Iris also went through. And so in this, Marietta disagreed with Elias. Ignorance should not be banished. It would have been better if the pair remained ignorant.
But Elias was not a man who stopped when it came to his desires, and right now his desires were focused on the unsaid knowledge that he believed only Iris had. And so when they had turned a corner and Marietta noticed that there truly were no people around, she stopped. Her eyes were trained completely on the ground. She could not look at her friend, for if she did he would see them shining with tears that she so rarely spilled. In fact, Marietta could not remember a time in which she cried in front of her friend. Even when in pain, the young Lady never cried. But the turmoil over the situation was threatening to crack the shield she held around her heart. The tears may yet roll.
“You kissed a woman,” Marietta said quietly. “At the market. I… I saw it. And I meant to forget it, I truly did, had I not later run into Iris. She was so kind helping me with my carriage when it had gotten stuck. And I… I’m so nervous. I babble, Elias. I hadn’t meant to say a word. I would never desire to hurt you, I swear it. And when I told her what I saw, I immediately regretted it. But there was no way to rewind time. There was no stopping the damage that was done. But even with the secret spilled, I didn’t think she would go this far. I’m so sorry, Elias. This… this isn’t something you deserve.”
When Marietta was six, it was Elias who first approached her. They played together, laughed together, and made memories together. Marietta would go to each of her friend’s plays, help him with his lines. Elias was always the first to see her paintings, even before her family, and to hear the songs that she created on her harp. Elias encouraged her in her creative pursuits, and in turn she did the same with whatever that she could. They had 12 years of friendship, so surely he must believe her when she said this was never what she intended.
Finally, glistening grey eyes looked up at her best friend. Marietta’s throat was tight and her heart was beating so fast that her chest hurt. “I really am sorry, Elias. And I will spend my days doing whatever I can to make it up for you. Should it be throwing my pride away and getting on my knees to Iris to beg her to change her mind, I will. This was my fault. This was all my fault.”
The guilt was going to eat Marietta alive. Every word he spoke twisted her heart even more. She was suffocating under the weight of what she done. Her mask was slipping. How much longer could she hide this injustice that she did?
No, Marietta. It’s not your fault. Elias is the one who did wrong. All you did was tell the truth. A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered. And yet with that thought came a whole other wave of guilt. It was not Iris of Argyris that she was best friends with. It was not Iris who taught her dice, nor was it Iris who showed a real interest in her art when so many others cared not. She was not the one who coaxed Marietta out of her shy shell and became her first friend. She did not inspire Marietta to be better, to be braver, to step outside her zone of comfort and try something new. Iris was kind, yes, but she was not her friend, not like Elias was.
Loyalty was something that was important to the Antonis, to Marietta. Her family was loyal, to the crown, to the people, and Marietta showed that same trait to her friends and family. But by spreading one rumor, saying one thing to the wrong person, she caused that friend more hurt than she could have ever imagined possible. The one thing Marietta held so dear to her heart was forsaken in a moment’s foolishness. And what was once a palmy relationship withered away into nothing, leaving behind sadness and anger. Elias was likely not the only one in pain. She could not imagine the hurt Iris also went through. And so in this, Marietta disagreed with Elias. Ignorance should not be banished. It would have been better if the pair remained ignorant.
But Elias was not a man who stopped when it came to his desires, and right now his desires were focused on the unsaid knowledge that he believed only Iris had. And so when they had turned a corner and Marietta noticed that there truly were no people around, she stopped. Her eyes were trained completely on the ground. She could not look at her friend, for if she did he would see them shining with tears that she so rarely spilled. In fact, Marietta could not remember a time in which she cried in front of her friend. Even when in pain, the young Lady never cried. But the turmoil over the situation was threatening to crack the shield she held around her heart. The tears may yet roll.
“You kissed a woman,” Marietta said quietly. “At the market. I… I saw it. And I meant to forget it, I truly did, had I not later run into Iris. She was so kind helping me with my carriage when it had gotten stuck. And I… I’m so nervous. I babble, Elias. I hadn’t meant to say a word. I would never desire to hurt you, I swear it. And when I told her what I saw, I immediately regretted it. But there was no way to rewind time. There was no stopping the damage that was done. But even with the secret spilled, I didn’t think she would go this far. I’m so sorry, Elias. This… this isn’t something you deserve.”
When Marietta was six, it was Elias who first approached her. They played together, laughed together, and made memories together. Marietta would go to each of her friend’s plays, help him with his lines. Elias was always the first to see her paintings, even before her family, and to hear the songs that she created on her harp. Elias encouraged her in her creative pursuits, and in turn she did the same with whatever that she could. They had 12 years of friendship, so surely he must believe her when she said this was never what she intended.
Finally, glistening grey eyes looked up at her best friend. Marietta’s throat was tight and her heart was beating so fast that her chest hurt. “I really am sorry, Elias. And I will spend my days doing whatever I can to make it up for you. Should it be throwing my pride away and getting on my knees to Iris to beg her to change her mind, I will. This was my fault. This was all my fault.”
The two of them wandered through the city, neither much caring for where they ended up. So long as they remained within the inner walls of the central, wealthier parts of the capitol, they would hardly be left out of luck. And Elias found that physical activity helped to burn off the frustration. As his feet stamped upon the marble and his thighs ate up the distance of first one street and then another, he tried to imagine the seething ire in his belly growing fainter. Used to fuel his muscles and see him on his path to cerebral clarity. And yet, the walking did little to cool his mind. The tiredness that slowly wrapped around his limbs only made his head less patient and his heart less kind. And with every word out of Marietta's mouth she only heightened his frustrations.
Whilst he had said to himself that he had needed his friend's cool head. Needed her ability to remain rational and fair. Had wanted her to help him to unpick the puzzle of why he had been unceremoniously discarded by a woman of lower birth than he!... He had said all of things to himself and yet now when she was as he knew Marietta to be, her rational and fairness to Iris was only serving to piss him off. He had been wrong. He didn't want her to be productive in this conversation. He wanted her to be angry. To be full of vengeful vile towards the woman that had brought a dark mark to his bright and clean life of easy successes. Wanted her to be fired with anger on his behalf.
What he had not expected, was for Marietta to start blabbering about her own part in such events. A part he had not known about until the admission tumbled from her own traitorous lips.
As soon as Marietta confessed to having seen his kiss with the merchant's daughter - a kiss that had meant nothing beyond an economic connection for the Stravos - Elias felt a hollow lead enter his stomach. His feet drew to a stumbling stop that only fell short of being ungraceful because of his years of tutorship and theatre work. It was an unconscious existence for him to look poised in all moments, just as it was for him to turn to gold everything that he touched.
And yet, here was Marietta, explaining just how this one happenstance, this one failing that had torn him in half behind his mask of social etiquette had not only not been his fault, but had been the work of his best friend! A woman who would not harm an animal for the sake of its hide or a book for the sake of its author. She would protect all those around her and deal no harm to any. Except him.
To him she dealt the mightiest of blows and the cruellest of injustices. The betrayal of a best friend.
Not only was this betrayal all the worse for its originator, but also for its choice of moment. She couldn't have messed with a business deal able to be reclaimed elsewhere, or his chances with a whore that could be wooed by with just a little more gold. No. She had cast her knife to the exact point in his back that would snag his heart and see the only woman he had wanted beyond a single night, scorned and scathing at his very existence.
This can't be happening... She can't be serious...
Ration did not enter into Elias's mind. Rage had long since replaced any logic. Unable to think over the years of friendship they had shared, over the excuses and apologies that tripped over Marietta's lying tongue now... Elias could only see this as a well-timed and superior assault from a woman who must have been lying in wait to find the perfect moment to strike.
Happenstance had found him and Marietta outside of one of the colossal forums at the heightened centre of the city. On market day, when all activity swam in the other direction, it was near empty, bar a few stragglers that paid them little attention. Lost in the columns of the structure, Elias was free of the shackles of public retribution but he could not follow his instincts to violence.
His hand had reached up as if to strike at Marietta's face, his fingers then curled to form a fist. His face held an expression of murderous rage and his eyes the deepest hurt. It didn't matter that Marietta was crying, her contrition meant nothing to him. All he could feel were his own emotions, tumultuous and painful.
His fist shook, his chest heaved and with equal parts anger and disappointment he threw his fist back down to his side. He closed his eyes and breathed low. before looking up at the woman who had once been his friend.
"You... She..." He didn't seem able to put his words into order, to find what he wanted to say beneath all the hatred. Finally, he simply gazed at her with a look of cold violence and personal distrust.
"Go home, Marietta. We have nothing more to say to one another."
And he turned on his heel, intent on leaving her standing there alone.
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The two of them wandered through the city, neither much caring for where they ended up. So long as they remained within the inner walls of the central, wealthier parts of the capitol, they would hardly be left out of luck. And Elias found that physical activity helped to burn off the frustration. As his feet stamped upon the marble and his thighs ate up the distance of first one street and then another, he tried to imagine the seething ire in his belly growing fainter. Used to fuel his muscles and see him on his path to cerebral clarity. And yet, the walking did little to cool his mind. The tiredness that slowly wrapped around his limbs only made his head less patient and his heart less kind. And with every word out of Marietta's mouth she only heightened his frustrations.
Whilst he had said to himself that he had needed his friend's cool head. Needed her ability to remain rational and fair. Had wanted her to help him to unpick the puzzle of why he had been unceremoniously discarded by a woman of lower birth than he!... He had said all of things to himself and yet now when she was as he knew Marietta to be, her rational and fairness to Iris was only serving to piss him off. He had been wrong. He didn't want her to be productive in this conversation. He wanted her to be angry. To be full of vengeful vile towards the woman that had brought a dark mark to his bright and clean life of easy successes. Wanted her to be fired with anger on his behalf.
What he had not expected, was for Marietta to start blabbering about her own part in such events. A part he had not known about until the admission tumbled from her own traitorous lips.
As soon as Marietta confessed to having seen his kiss with the merchant's daughter - a kiss that had meant nothing beyond an economic connection for the Stravos - Elias felt a hollow lead enter his stomach. His feet drew to a stumbling stop that only fell short of being ungraceful because of his years of tutorship and theatre work. It was an unconscious existence for him to look poised in all moments, just as it was for him to turn to gold everything that he touched.
And yet, here was Marietta, explaining just how this one happenstance, this one failing that had torn him in half behind his mask of social etiquette had not only not been his fault, but had been the work of his best friend! A woman who would not harm an animal for the sake of its hide or a book for the sake of its author. She would protect all those around her and deal no harm to any. Except him.
To him she dealt the mightiest of blows and the cruellest of injustices. The betrayal of a best friend.
Not only was this betrayal all the worse for its originator, but also for its choice of moment. She couldn't have messed with a business deal able to be reclaimed elsewhere, or his chances with a whore that could be wooed by with just a little more gold. No. She had cast her knife to the exact point in his back that would snag his heart and see the only woman he had wanted beyond a single night, scorned and scathing at his very existence.
This can't be happening... She can't be serious...
Ration did not enter into Elias's mind. Rage had long since replaced any logic. Unable to think over the years of friendship they had shared, over the excuses and apologies that tripped over Marietta's lying tongue now... Elias could only see this as a well-timed and superior assault from a woman who must have been lying in wait to find the perfect moment to strike.
Happenstance had found him and Marietta outside of one of the colossal forums at the heightened centre of the city. On market day, when all activity swam in the other direction, it was near empty, bar a few stragglers that paid them little attention. Lost in the columns of the structure, Elias was free of the shackles of public retribution but he could not follow his instincts to violence.
His hand had reached up as if to strike at Marietta's face, his fingers then curled to form a fist. His face held an expression of murderous rage and his eyes the deepest hurt. It didn't matter that Marietta was crying, her contrition meant nothing to him. All he could feel were his own emotions, tumultuous and painful.
His fist shook, his chest heaved and with equal parts anger and disappointment he threw his fist back down to his side. He closed his eyes and breathed low. before looking up at the woman who had once been his friend.
"You... She..." He didn't seem able to put his words into order, to find what he wanted to say beneath all the hatred. Finally, he simply gazed at her with a look of cold violence and personal distrust.
"Go home, Marietta. We have nothing more to say to one another."
And he turned on his heel, intent on leaving her standing there alone.
The two of them wandered through the city, neither much caring for where they ended up. So long as they remained within the inner walls of the central, wealthier parts of the capitol, they would hardly be left out of luck. And Elias found that physical activity helped to burn off the frustration. As his feet stamped upon the marble and his thighs ate up the distance of first one street and then another, he tried to imagine the seething ire in his belly growing fainter. Used to fuel his muscles and see him on his path to cerebral clarity. And yet, the walking did little to cool his mind. The tiredness that slowly wrapped around his limbs only made his head less patient and his heart less kind. And with every word out of Marietta's mouth she only heightened his frustrations.
Whilst he had said to himself that he had needed his friend's cool head. Needed her ability to remain rational and fair. Had wanted her to help him to unpick the puzzle of why he had been unceremoniously discarded by a woman of lower birth than he!... He had said all of things to himself and yet now when she was as he knew Marietta to be, her rational and fairness to Iris was only serving to piss him off. He had been wrong. He didn't want her to be productive in this conversation. He wanted her to be angry. To be full of vengeful vile towards the woman that had brought a dark mark to his bright and clean life of easy successes. Wanted her to be fired with anger on his behalf.
What he had not expected, was for Marietta to start blabbering about her own part in such events. A part he had not known about until the admission tumbled from her own traitorous lips.
As soon as Marietta confessed to having seen his kiss with the merchant's daughter - a kiss that had meant nothing beyond an economic connection for the Stravos - Elias felt a hollow lead enter his stomach. His feet drew to a stumbling stop that only fell short of being ungraceful because of his years of tutorship and theatre work. It was an unconscious existence for him to look poised in all moments, just as it was for him to turn to gold everything that he touched.
And yet, here was Marietta, explaining just how this one happenstance, this one failing that had torn him in half behind his mask of social etiquette had not only not been his fault, but had been the work of his best friend! A woman who would not harm an animal for the sake of its hide or a book for the sake of its author. She would protect all those around her and deal no harm to any. Except him.
To him she dealt the mightiest of blows and the cruellest of injustices. The betrayal of a best friend.
Not only was this betrayal all the worse for its originator, but also for its choice of moment. She couldn't have messed with a business deal able to be reclaimed elsewhere, or his chances with a whore that could be wooed by with just a little more gold. No. She had cast her knife to the exact point in his back that would snag his heart and see the only woman he had wanted beyond a single night, scorned and scathing at his very existence.
This can't be happening... She can't be serious...
Ration did not enter into Elias's mind. Rage had long since replaced any logic. Unable to think over the years of friendship they had shared, over the excuses and apologies that tripped over Marietta's lying tongue now... Elias could only see this as a well-timed and superior assault from a woman who must have been lying in wait to find the perfect moment to strike.
Happenstance had found him and Marietta outside of one of the colossal forums at the heightened centre of the city. On market day, when all activity swam in the other direction, it was near empty, bar a few stragglers that paid them little attention. Lost in the columns of the structure, Elias was free of the shackles of public retribution but he could not follow his instincts to violence.
His hand had reached up as if to strike at Marietta's face, his fingers then curled to form a fist. His face held an expression of murderous rage and his eyes the deepest hurt. It didn't matter that Marietta was crying, her contrition meant nothing to him. All he could feel were his own emotions, tumultuous and painful.
His fist shook, his chest heaved and with equal parts anger and disappointment he threw his fist back down to his side. He closed his eyes and breathed low. before looking up at the woman who had once been his friend.
"You... She..." He didn't seem able to put his words into order, to find what he wanted to say beneath all the hatred. Finally, he simply gazed at her with a look of cold violence and personal distrust.
"Go home, Marietta. We have nothing more to say to one another."
And he turned on his heel, intent on leaving her standing there alone.
It wasn’t his words that hurt Marietta. It was that look. They had known each other for over a decade. They had been friends for so long. And it wasn’t without fights, necessarily. But they were always small, meaningless really. Marietta would nag Elias, he would ignore her. Elias would try to convince Marietta to do something against her very nature, like gamblings, and she would try to resist before always caving. Those fights weren’t real fights. They were… just bickering.
And it was weird. Elias and Marietta on paper were the two people you would never expect to be friends. Elias was a charismatic, strong, socialite and Marietta was… well, Marietta. She was shy. She was unconfident. She was… plain. At least compared to her friend. But despite their differences, to which they were numerous, and despite what everyone thought of the pair… they were best friends.
And it was because of that, the look of distrust, and the… cold anger within his eyes made Marietta felt like her heart was breaking in two. She couldn’t let her tears tumble, she refused to. But it didn’t stop them for wanting to form. Because what Marietta did was wrong. And it was so… unlike the Antonis. For her family were loyal. They were loyal to the crown they served. They were loyal to each other, their family. And they were loyal to their friends.
And Marietta of Antonis was not. Elias was not just a best friend - he was a brother. He was the man she would hide behind in court when too many people tried to talk to her. He was the man she confided to her worries and insecurities. He was the man she would tease and joke with relentlessly, and worry about just as she did with Evi, Hebe, and Sanasa. And he was the man Marietta hurt. All because… Marietta was weak. She allowed nerves to, once again, control her. She allowed them to tear secrets from her lips, and gossip about the man she cared about most. It wasn’t a romantic love Marietta felt for Elias, it was so much stronger than that. Romance comes and goes, but the two had a bond that was near as this as blood. And despite this bond… she threw it away just because she was uncomfortable and scared of silence.
And so Marietta knew that she deserved that look. She deserved Elias turning his back to her. But Marietta wouldn’t give up. She wouldn’t let her friendship end like that. ”Elias, I’m sorry. ” She stressed again, eyes wide with panic and devastation. “I know… I know it doesn’t help. But… but let me make it up to you.” Her voice was threatening to crack. Her throat felt so tight. But she couldn’t cry. She had to be strong, so that way she could convince him to let her try to gain his forgiveness. Marietta rushed after the man, intent on reaching out to grab his wrist and stop him from going.
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It wasn’t his words that hurt Marietta. It was that look. They had known each other for over a decade. They had been friends for so long. And it wasn’t without fights, necessarily. But they were always small, meaningless really. Marietta would nag Elias, he would ignore her. Elias would try to convince Marietta to do something against her very nature, like gamblings, and she would try to resist before always caving. Those fights weren’t real fights. They were… just bickering.
And it was weird. Elias and Marietta on paper were the two people you would never expect to be friends. Elias was a charismatic, strong, socialite and Marietta was… well, Marietta. She was shy. She was unconfident. She was… plain. At least compared to her friend. But despite their differences, to which they were numerous, and despite what everyone thought of the pair… they were best friends.
And it was because of that, the look of distrust, and the… cold anger within his eyes made Marietta felt like her heart was breaking in two. She couldn’t let her tears tumble, she refused to. But it didn’t stop them for wanting to form. Because what Marietta did was wrong. And it was so… unlike the Antonis. For her family were loyal. They were loyal to the crown they served. They were loyal to each other, their family. And they were loyal to their friends.
And Marietta of Antonis was not. Elias was not just a best friend - he was a brother. He was the man she would hide behind in court when too many people tried to talk to her. He was the man she confided to her worries and insecurities. He was the man she would tease and joke with relentlessly, and worry about just as she did with Evi, Hebe, and Sanasa. And he was the man Marietta hurt. All because… Marietta was weak. She allowed nerves to, once again, control her. She allowed them to tear secrets from her lips, and gossip about the man she cared about most. It wasn’t a romantic love Marietta felt for Elias, it was so much stronger than that. Romance comes and goes, but the two had a bond that was near as this as blood. And despite this bond… she threw it away just because she was uncomfortable and scared of silence.
And so Marietta knew that she deserved that look. She deserved Elias turning his back to her. But Marietta wouldn’t give up. She wouldn’t let her friendship end like that. ”Elias, I’m sorry. ” She stressed again, eyes wide with panic and devastation. “I know… I know it doesn’t help. But… but let me make it up to you.” Her voice was threatening to crack. Her throat felt so tight. But she couldn’t cry. She had to be strong, so that way she could convince him to let her try to gain his forgiveness. Marietta rushed after the man, intent on reaching out to grab his wrist and stop him from going.
It wasn’t his words that hurt Marietta. It was that look. They had known each other for over a decade. They had been friends for so long. And it wasn’t without fights, necessarily. But they were always small, meaningless really. Marietta would nag Elias, he would ignore her. Elias would try to convince Marietta to do something against her very nature, like gamblings, and she would try to resist before always caving. Those fights weren’t real fights. They were… just bickering.
And it was weird. Elias and Marietta on paper were the two people you would never expect to be friends. Elias was a charismatic, strong, socialite and Marietta was… well, Marietta. She was shy. She was unconfident. She was… plain. At least compared to her friend. But despite their differences, to which they were numerous, and despite what everyone thought of the pair… they were best friends.
And it was because of that, the look of distrust, and the… cold anger within his eyes made Marietta felt like her heart was breaking in two. She couldn’t let her tears tumble, she refused to. But it didn’t stop them for wanting to form. Because what Marietta did was wrong. And it was so… unlike the Antonis. For her family were loyal. They were loyal to the crown they served. They were loyal to each other, their family. And they were loyal to their friends.
And Marietta of Antonis was not. Elias was not just a best friend - he was a brother. He was the man she would hide behind in court when too many people tried to talk to her. He was the man she confided to her worries and insecurities. He was the man she would tease and joke with relentlessly, and worry about just as she did with Evi, Hebe, and Sanasa. And he was the man Marietta hurt. All because… Marietta was weak. She allowed nerves to, once again, control her. She allowed them to tear secrets from her lips, and gossip about the man she cared about most. It wasn’t a romantic love Marietta felt for Elias, it was so much stronger than that. Romance comes and goes, but the two had a bond that was near as this as blood. And despite this bond… she threw it away just because she was uncomfortable and scared of silence.
And so Marietta knew that she deserved that look. She deserved Elias turning his back to her. But Marietta wouldn’t give up. She wouldn’t let her friendship end like that. ”Elias, I’m sorry. ” She stressed again, eyes wide with panic and devastation. “I know… I know it doesn’t help. But… but let me make it up to you.” Her voice was threatening to crack. Her throat felt so tight. But she couldn’t cry. She had to be strong, so that way she could convince him to let her try to gain his forgiveness. Marietta rushed after the man, intent on reaching out to grab his wrist and stop him from going.
Marietta's pleas fell on deaf ears.
In a better mood, in a position of calm that would have seen his mind open and his heart even just a little generous, Elias might have stilled his feet and been content to listen. He might have tried to hear the emotion in Marietta's words and the genuine contrition in her voice. It was clear that her act of accidental betrayal ate her up inside and punished her over and again.
But Elias was not in that open mood. He was not in a mindset that would see the truth behind her words clear to him. He did not care for her emotions and her self-flagellation for her cruelty to his own state of bliss. Instead, he was too angry to see or hear any of it. He was blistering with rage, barely able to contain the cold and aching heat of hurt in his gut. He had been generous enough by turning away from her, in not launching accusations and aggression in her direction.
For not making her feel ten times worse than she already did and trying to peacefully remove himself from the conversation, he was a fucking saint.
And yet here she was, pulling at him to come back with her words and wanting so much to have him accept her apology. To understand her feelings of regret and to allow her to continue to be his friend - a friend whose accidents he accepted and mistakes he forgave. So that she could set her mind and heart at ease.
She wanted him to make her feel better.
It was a fucking joke.
And with that realisation, that moment of pure wrath at Marietta's sheer selfishness in needing his help to still her pain, Elias completely lost it.
As his friend's fingers came around his wrist and tried to pull him back towards her, Elias was violent in the way that he shook her off. His hand flung up and back, to shake away her touch and break her fingers from their hold. It worked. But it also saw the back of his hand fling hard against the side of Marietta's face.
Having not known exactly how close she was to him; the slap had been unintentional. But, in his rage, Elias could not bring himself to be apologetic for it. She deserved it and oh so much more for the betrayal she had issued against their friendship - the years of trust she had destroyed. She was a stupid little girl who had forgotten all that had been precious to the both of them. And a little sting to her cheek wasn't going to last anywhere near as long as the wound she had inflicted upon him.
As such, he neither apologised nor showed contrition. He simply glared with anger and hostility.
"Leave me alone Marietta. Unless you have some other part of my life you wish to destroy?"
And with that as his final word on the matter, Elias stormed away down the steps of the columned forum and headed back to the Stravos manor, feeling no shame in leaving an unescorted woman alone in the streets of the capitol.
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Marietta's pleas fell on deaf ears.
In a better mood, in a position of calm that would have seen his mind open and his heart even just a little generous, Elias might have stilled his feet and been content to listen. He might have tried to hear the emotion in Marietta's words and the genuine contrition in her voice. It was clear that her act of accidental betrayal ate her up inside and punished her over and again.
But Elias was not in that open mood. He was not in a mindset that would see the truth behind her words clear to him. He did not care for her emotions and her self-flagellation for her cruelty to his own state of bliss. Instead, he was too angry to see or hear any of it. He was blistering with rage, barely able to contain the cold and aching heat of hurt in his gut. He had been generous enough by turning away from her, in not launching accusations and aggression in her direction.
For not making her feel ten times worse than she already did and trying to peacefully remove himself from the conversation, he was a fucking saint.
And yet here she was, pulling at him to come back with her words and wanting so much to have him accept her apology. To understand her feelings of regret and to allow her to continue to be his friend - a friend whose accidents he accepted and mistakes he forgave. So that she could set her mind and heart at ease.
She wanted him to make her feel better.
It was a fucking joke.
And with that realisation, that moment of pure wrath at Marietta's sheer selfishness in needing his help to still her pain, Elias completely lost it.
As his friend's fingers came around his wrist and tried to pull him back towards her, Elias was violent in the way that he shook her off. His hand flung up and back, to shake away her touch and break her fingers from their hold. It worked. But it also saw the back of his hand fling hard against the side of Marietta's face.
Having not known exactly how close she was to him; the slap had been unintentional. But, in his rage, Elias could not bring himself to be apologetic for it. She deserved it and oh so much more for the betrayal she had issued against their friendship - the years of trust she had destroyed. She was a stupid little girl who had forgotten all that had been precious to the both of them. And a little sting to her cheek wasn't going to last anywhere near as long as the wound she had inflicted upon him.
As such, he neither apologised nor showed contrition. He simply glared with anger and hostility.
"Leave me alone Marietta. Unless you have some other part of my life you wish to destroy?"
And with that as his final word on the matter, Elias stormed away down the steps of the columned forum and headed back to the Stravos manor, feeling no shame in leaving an unescorted woman alone in the streets of the capitol.
Marietta's pleas fell on deaf ears.
In a better mood, in a position of calm that would have seen his mind open and his heart even just a little generous, Elias might have stilled his feet and been content to listen. He might have tried to hear the emotion in Marietta's words and the genuine contrition in her voice. It was clear that her act of accidental betrayal ate her up inside and punished her over and again.
But Elias was not in that open mood. He was not in a mindset that would see the truth behind her words clear to him. He did not care for her emotions and her self-flagellation for her cruelty to his own state of bliss. Instead, he was too angry to see or hear any of it. He was blistering with rage, barely able to contain the cold and aching heat of hurt in his gut. He had been generous enough by turning away from her, in not launching accusations and aggression in her direction.
For not making her feel ten times worse than she already did and trying to peacefully remove himself from the conversation, he was a fucking saint.
And yet here she was, pulling at him to come back with her words and wanting so much to have him accept her apology. To understand her feelings of regret and to allow her to continue to be his friend - a friend whose accidents he accepted and mistakes he forgave. So that she could set her mind and heart at ease.
She wanted him to make her feel better.
It was a fucking joke.
And with that realisation, that moment of pure wrath at Marietta's sheer selfishness in needing his help to still her pain, Elias completely lost it.
As his friend's fingers came around his wrist and tried to pull him back towards her, Elias was violent in the way that he shook her off. His hand flung up and back, to shake away her touch and break her fingers from their hold. It worked. But it also saw the back of his hand fling hard against the side of Marietta's face.
Having not known exactly how close she was to him; the slap had been unintentional. But, in his rage, Elias could not bring himself to be apologetic for it. She deserved it and oh so much more for the betrayal she had issued against their friendship - the years of trust she had destroyed. She was a stupid little girl who had forgotten all that had been precious to the both of them. And a little sting to her cheek wasn't going to last anywhere near as long as the wound she had inflicted upon him.
As such, he neither apologised nor showed contrition. He simply glared with anger and hostility.
"Leave me alone Marietta. Unless you have some other part of my life you wish to destroy?"
And with that as his final word on the matter, Elias stormed away down the steps of the columned forum and headed back to the Stravos manor, feeling no shame in leaving an unescorted woman alone in the streets of the capitol.
Huh.
This was odd. The sadness Marietta felt was suddenly gone. The guilt she felt for betraying her best friend disappeared. Instead, she felt this hardness inside of her. It was cold and made her heart beat faster and faster. It removed the tears from her eyes, but it caused them to widen in shock. And then she realized what this was.
Anger.
Marietta’s head snapped to the side from the force of his hand as he brought the back of it across her face. She tasted iron in her mouth and when she slowly raised her fingertips to the corner of her lips, she felt the sticky, red liquid.
Marietta abhorred violence, despite being in a family that was fairly militaristic. She was afraid, quite frankly. She was a coward still afraid of the dark and requesting to sleep with a candle lit and the curtains drawn so the moonlight could leak through. So getting slapped should be something that caused her whimper and cower. The tears should be sliding now. But instead, she felt pissed. Yes, what Marietta did was terrible. But how dare he slap her! How dare he lay a finger on her! She wasn’t a slave, a commoner, a whore. She wasn’t his to slap. She was Lady Marietta of Antonis. She used to be his best friend.
Her hand lowered and wrapped into a fist and finally she looked back up, but Elias was already down the stairs having left Marietta alone with the sun beginning to set. Well fine, She sniffed, glaring at his back. She had tried to apologize, she had tried to make things right. And it was Elias who ruined everything. It was Elias’s fault.
And there it came rushing back to Marietta. The girl who avoided any sort of dark, negative emotion felt the guilt once more along with the sadness of a friendship broken. But now with this depression came the fury of a woman wronged. For his slap did not just leave a scar that may or may not heal, but it brought flame to everything the two had worked towards and tossed away all the memories they have made. All because he could not forgive. (And because Marietta couldn’t keep her mouth shut.)
She wanted to swear. She wanted to yell. She wanted to threaten to tell her cousins and send the Antonis men against the lone Stravos. She wanted to… she wanted to…
Marietta kicked a rock and watched as it bounced down the stairs. She wrapped her arms around herself, and finally moved from the spot she was rooted to. What Marietta wanted most was to just go home.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Huh.
This was odd. The sadness Marietta felt was suddenly gone. The guilt she felt for betraying her best friend disappeared. Instead, she felt this hardness inside of her. It was cold and made her heart beat faster and faster. It removed the tears from her eyes, but it caused them to widen in shock. And then she realized what this was.
Anger.
Marietta’s head snapped to the side from the force of his hand as he brought the back of it across her face. She tasted iron in her mouth and when she slowly raised her fingertips to the corner of her lips, she felt the sticky, red liquid.
Marietta abhorred violence, despite being in a family that was fairly militaristic. She was afraid, quite frankly. She was a coward still afraid of the dark and requesting to sleep with a candle lit and the curtains drawn so the moonlight could leak through. So getting slapped should be something that caused her whimper and cower. The tears should be sliding now. But instead, she felt pissed. Yes, what Marietta did was terrible. But how dare he slap her! How dare he lay a finger on her! She wasn’t a slave, a commoner, a whore. She wasn’t his to slap. She was Lady Marietta of Antonis. She used to be his best friend.
Her hand lowered and wrapped into a fist and finally she looked back up, but Elias was already down the stairs having left Marietta alone with the sun beginning to set. Well fine, She sniffed, glaring at his back. She had tried to apologize, she had tried to make things right. And it was Elias who ruined everything. It was Elias’s fault.
And there it came rushing back to Marietta. The girl who avoided any sort of dark, negative emotion felt the guilt once more along with the sadness of a friendship broken. But now with this depression came the fury of a woman wronged. For his slap did not just leave a scar that may or may not heal, but it brought flame to everything the two had worked towards and tossed away all the memories they have made. All because he could not forgive. (And because Marietta couldn’t keep her mouth shut.)
She wanted to swear. She wanted to yell. She wanted to threaten to tell her cousins and send the Antonis men against the lone Stravos. She wanted to… she wanted to…
Marietta kicked a rock and watched as it bounced down the stairs. She wrapped her arms around herself, and finally moved from the spot she was rooted to. What Marietta wanted most was to just go home.
Huh.
This was odd. The sadness Marietta felt was suddenly gone. The guilt she felt for betraying her best friend disappeared. Instead, she felt this hardness inside of her. It was cold and made her heart beat faster and faster. It removed the tears from her eyes, but it caused them to widen in shock. And then she realized what this was.
Anger.
Marietta’s head snapped to the side from the force of his hand as he brought the back of it across her face. She tasted iron in her mouth and when she slowly raised her fingertips to the corner of her lips, she felt the sticky, red liquid.
Marietta abhorred violence, despite being in a family that was fairly militaristic. She was afraid, quite frankly. She was a coward still afraid of the dark and requesting to sleep with a candle lit and the curtains drawn so the moonlight could leak through. So getting slapped should be something that caused her whimper and cower. The tears should be sliding now. But instead, she felt pissed. Yes, what Marietta did was terrible. But how dare he slap her! How dare he lay a finger on her! She wasn’t a slave, a commoner, a whore. She wasn’t his to slap. She was Lady Marietta of Antonis. She used to be his best friend.
Her hand lowered and wrapped into a fist and finally she looked back up, but Elias was already down the stairs having left Marietta alone with the sun beginning to set. Well fine, She sniffed, glaring at his back. She had tried to apologize, she had tried to make things right. And it was Elias who ruined everything. It was Elias’s fault.
And there it came rushing back to Marietta. The girl who avoided any sort of dark, negative emotion felt the guilt once more along with the sadness of a friendship broken. But now with this depression came the fury of a woman wronged. For his slap did not just leave a scar that may or may not heal, but it brought flame to everything the two had worked towards and tossed away all the memories they have made. All because he could not forgive. (And because Marietta couldn’t keep her mouth shut.)
She wanted to swear. She wanted to yell. She wanted to threaten to tell her cousins and send the Antonis men against the lone Stravos. She wanted to… she wanted to…
Marietta kicked a rock and watched as it bounced down the stairs. She wrapped her arms around herself, and finally moved from the spot she was rooted to. What Marietta wanted most was to just go home.