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At sixteen years of age, it had been eighteen months since Persephone had become an adult in the eyes of Athenian law. Yet, it had been far longer than that since she had considered herself to be out of her childhood years. Upon the death of her mother, Persephone had taken over as matriarch of the familial needs of her bloodline. Her father had fallen intro grief and her sister had been at a loss for a maternal guide in life. Persephone had seen to both, caring for her father and encouraging him in his day to day duties, and ensuring that Emilia was supported and doted on as Lucille had once done for Persephone.
A year later and Persephone had taken over the running of the Athenian Court. Too young to be considered its official head at twelve years of age, it had been only her status as the daughter of the king that had permitted her to attend at all. With elder, loyal Courtiers at her right hand to ensure that she behaved with a maturity beyond her years, Persephone had taken hold of the proceedings of court with an intelligence she was only able to possess through years of directed tutorage.
The Senate would become her second demesne of power. Though, in this, she acted only on occasion and, when the chances were presented, as her father's mouthpiece. Such happenings had only been allowed since she turned fifteen and it had been a year and a half since Persephone's training in law and senatorial procedure could be put to good use.
Now, with her father accepting of the loss of his wife and able to carry on his duties, the administration requirements that Persephone had taken off of his hands in past years had never been reclaimed. Instead, the two of them ruled through a single figure head but with the determination of two hearts. Persephone was responsible for ensuring the legality of everything they completed, from tax reports to clerical records and her father was the mind that made all of the decisions, as was his right as king.
Whether Minas had never taken back such duties because it made his life easier or because he recognised a potential within Persephone no-one seemed willing to risk his displeasure by asking. Instead, the women of the Court and the men of the Senate had grown to be used to Persephone's presence in both and any who spoke directly to her would be able to recognised a knowledge and intelligence over the proceedings that is rare in a female royal.
On this particular morning, Persephone's knowledge was tested in a new field. With her father ill from a cough that he seemed to be catching on a not irregular basis, Persephone had been sent the message via servant that the Master Informer had an appointment with her father to discuss his monthly report on matters in the capitol and beyond. As the king was unaware of anything more significant to be discussed in the meeting, he had assigned his daughter to greet the Master in his place. As such, Persephone rallied her determination and the etiquette of posture and elegance that had been drilled into her since birth and turned her attentions to such a discussion that afternoon.
Arranging for one of the meeting chambers in the royal palace to be arranged for his visit, Persephone ensured that wine, fresh water and fruit juices were prepared along with breads, oils, and some dried meats. She also ensured that she, as an individual, was presentable after her morning duties had been carried out and was dressed in a fine gown of bright yellow. The colour graduated into a deeper colour with golden thread highlighting the weaves and curls of the silk and a golden ring around her neck supported the front of the gown. Her back was left bare but her hair coiled into a braided spiral upon her head and a laurel ring was set about her temples, proclaiming her role as princess of the kingdom. In contrast to her darker skin and black hair, her dress was ornate and appropriate for her station; Persephone was elegance incarnate. But she knew the Master Informer by reputation and momentary meet and greets over the years and had surmised him to be a man with little interest in appearance. The gown was more a message of status than it was of beauty as she had learnt early on that the first meeting with a male senator was always the one in which she was forced the overcome an assumption of uselessness that had been orchestrated upon her persona.
Without fear of this assumption and accepting the reality that her gender dictated, Persephone simply arranged that she was seated in the meeting chamber in question, the gossamer curtains between the pillars of the room open to the afternoon sunshine, when a servant escorted the Master Informer into her presence and made the appropriate announcements of his arrival.
“Master Cicero.” Persephone greeted, offering a hand for a formal greeting, the back of her fingers turned towards him. “My apologies that my father is unable to attend to you this afternoon. But I assure your that your report is valued and will be equally heard by myself.” With her other hand, she gestured lightly to the jugs of refreshment upon the little table between the chaises and smiled. “It is bright today, is it not? Please avail yourself of any beverage you may prefer…”
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At sixteen years of age, it had been eighteen months since Persephone had become an adult in the eyes of Athenian law. Yet, it had been far longer than that since she had considered herself to be out of her childhood years. Upon the death of her mother, Persephone had taken over as matriarch of the familial needs of her bloodline. Her father had fallen intro grief and her sister had been at a loss for a maternal guide in life. Persephone had seen to both, caring for her father and encouraging him in his day to day duties, and ensuring that Emilia was supported and doted on as Lucille had once done for Persephone.
A year later and Persephone had taken over the running of the Athenian Court. Too young to be considered its official head at twelve years of age, it had been only her status as the daughter of the king that had permitted her to attend at all. With elder, loyal Courtiers at her right hand to ensure that she behaved with a maturity beyond her years, Persephone had taken hold of the proceedings of court with an intelligence she was only able to possess through years of directed tutorage.
The Senate would become her second demesne of power. Though, in this, she acted only on occasion and, when the chances were presented, as her father's mouthpiece. Such happenings had only been allowed since she turned fifteen and it had been a year and a half since Persephone's training in law and senatorial procedure could be put to good use.
Now, with her father accepting of the loss of his wife and able to carry on his duties, the administration requirements that Persephone had taken off of his hands in past years had never been reclaimed. Instead, the two of them ruled through a single figure head but with the determination of two hearts. Persephone was responsible for ensuring the legality of everything they completed, from tax reports to clerical records and her father was the mind that made all of the decisions, as was his right as king.
Whether Minas had never taken back such duties because it made his life easier or because he recognised a potential within Persephone no-one seemed willing to risk his displeasure by asking. Instead, the women of the Court and the men of the Senate had grown to be used to Persephone's presence in both and any who spoke directly to her would be able to recognised a knowledge and intelligence over the proceedings that is rare in a female royal.
On this particular morning, Persephone's knowledge was tested in a new field. With her father ill from a cough that he seemed to be catching on a not irregular basis, Persephone had been sent the message via servant that the Master Informer had an appointment with her father to discuss his monthly report on matters in the capitol and beyond. As the king was unaware of anything more significant to be discussed in the meeting, he had assigned his daughter to greet the Master in his place. As such, Persephone rallied her determination and the etiquette of posture and elegance that had been drilled into her since birth and turned her attentions to such a discussion that afternoon.
Arranging for one of the meeting chambers in the royal palace to be arranged for his visit, Persephone ensured that wine, fresh water and fruit juices were prepared along with breads, oils, and some dried meats. She also ensured that she, as an individual, was presentable after her morning duties had been carried out and was dressed in a fine gown of bright yellow. The colour graduated into a deeper colour with golden thread highlighting the weaves and curls of the silk and a golden ring around her neck supported the front of the gown. Her back was left bare but her hair coiled into a braided spiral upon her head and a laurel ring was set about her temples, proclaiming her role as princess of the kingdom. In contrast to her darker skin and black hair, her dress was ornate and appropriate for her station; Persephone was elegance incarnate. But she knew the Master Informer by reputation and momentary meet and greets over the years and had surmised him to be a man with little interest in appearance. The gown was more a message of status than it was of beauty as she had learnt early on that the first meeting with a male senator was always the one in which she was forced the overcome an assumption of uselessness that had been orchestrated upon her persona.
Without fear of this assumption and accepting the reality that her gender dictated, Persephone simply arranged that she was seated in the meeting chamber in question, the gossamer curtains between the pillars of the room open to the afternoon sunshine, when a servant escorted the Master Informer into her presence and made the appropriate announcements of his arrival.
“Master Cicero.” Persephone greeted, offering a hand for a formal greeting, the back of her fingers turned towards him. “My apologies that my father is unable to attend to you this afternoon. But I assure your that your report is valued and will be equally heard by myself.” With her other hand, she gestured lightly to the jugs of refreshment upon the little table between the chaises and smiled. “It is bright today, is it not? Please avail yourself of any beverage you may prefer…”
At sixteen years of age, it had been eighteen months since Persephone had become an adult in the eyes of Athenian law. Yet, it had been far longer than that since she had considered herself to be out of her childhood years. Upon the death of her mother, Persephone had taken over as matriarch of the familial needs of her bloodline. Her father had fallen intro grief and her sister had been at a loss for a maternal guide in life. Persephone had seen to both, caring for her father and encouraging him in his day to day duties, and ensuring that Emilia was supported and doted on as Lucille had once done for Persephone.
A year later and Persephone had taken over the running of the Athenian Court. Too young to be considered its official head at twelve years of age, it had been only her status as the daughter of the king that had permitted her to attend at all. With elder, loyal Courtiers at her right hand to ensure that she behaved with a maturity beyond her years, Persephone had taken hold of the proceedings of court with an intelligence she was only able to possess through years of directed tutorage.
The Senate would become her second demesne of power. Though, in this, she acted only on occasion and, when the chances were presented, as her father's mouthpiece. Such happenings had only been allowed since she turned fifteen and it had been a year and a half since Persephone's training in law and senatorial procedure could be put to good use.
Now, with her father accepting of the loss of his wife and able to carry on his duties, the administration requirements that Persephone had taken off of his hands in past years had never been reclaimed. Instead, the two of them ruled through a single figure head but with the determination of two hearts. Persephone was responsible for ensuring the legality of everything they completed, from tax reports to clerical records and her father was the mind that made all of the decisions, as was his right as king.
Whether Minas had never taken back such duties because it made his life easier or because he recognised a potential within Persephone no-one seemed willing to risk his displeasure by asking. Instead, the women of the Court and the men of the Senate had grown to be used to Persephone's presence in both and any who spoke directly to her would be able to recognised a knowledge and intelligence over the proceedings that is rare in a female royal.
On this particular morning, Persephone's knowledge was tested in a new field. With her father ill from a cough that he seemed to be catching on a not irregular basis, Persephone had been sent the message via servant that the Master Informer had an appointment with her father to discuss his monthly report on matters in the capitol and beyond. As the king was unaware of anything more significant to be discussed in the meeting, he had assigned his daughter to greet the Master in his place. As such, Persephone rallied her determination and the etiquette of posture and elegance that had been drilled into her since birth and turned her attentions to such a discussion that afternoon.
Arranging for one of the meeting chambers in the royal palace to be arranged for his visit, Persephone ensured that wine, fresh water and fruit juices were prepared along with breads, oils, and some dried meats. She also ensured that she, as an individual, was presentable after her morning duties had been carried out and was dressed in a fine gown of bright yellow. The colour graduated into a deeper colour with golden thread highlighting the weaves and curls of the silk and a golden ring around her neck supported the front of the gown. Her back was left bare but her hair coiled into a braided spiral upon her head and a laurel ring was set about her temples, proclaiming her role as princess of the kingdom. In contrast to her darker skin and black hair, her dress was ornate and appropriate for her station; Persephone was elegance incarnate. But she knew the Master Informer by reputation and momentary meet and greets over the years and had surmised him to be a man with little interest in appearance. The gown was more a message of status than it was of beauty as she had learnt early on that the first meeting with a male senator was always the one in which she was forced the overcome an assumption of uselessness that had been orchestrated upon her persona.
Without fear of this assumption and accepting the reality that her gender dictated, Persephone simply arranged that she was seated in the meeting chamber in question, the gossamer curtains between the pillars of the room open to the afternoon sunshine, when a servant escorted the Master Informer into her presence and made the appropriate announcements of his arrival.
“Master Cicero.” Persephone greeted, offering a hand for a formal greeting, the back of her fingers turned towards him. “My apologies that my father is unable to attend to you this afternoon. But I assure your that your report is valued and will be equally heard by myself.” With her other hand, she gestured lightly to the jugs of refreshment upon the little table between the chaises and smiled. “It is bright today, is it not? Please avail yourself of any beverage you may prefer…”
If he were to be brutally honest about it - and Cicero did have a tendency to be exactly that - the monthly reportings into the King were one of the tedious tasks that his job entailed. It was not that he had any particular dislike for his monarch, indeed King Minas was relatively likeable as far as people went. It was more the humdrum, mundane subject matter such sessions tended toward. If there were anything of note then, of course, it would be brought to the attention of the King long before a monthly scheduled meeting. And as such, the topics discussed tended toward the insignificant, dreary, inutile matters that Cicero would much prefer to leave in the care of his young clerk and not become involved in.
But it was a necessary evil, and so the Master of Secrets had dutifully presented himself at the Palati, precisely when he was due to be received by the King. Sometimes he would come a little early and catch up with those little whisperers he had in the palace, but this was not such a day. Instead, the man followed the servant through the sweeping halls of the palace. Under his arm was tucked the usual stack of papers, ostensibly written accounts of all that would be discussed, though they were rarely referred to. Instead, Cicero would just drop them with a thunk onto the desk of the chief scribe on his way out of the palati, smiling a catlike smile at the man who would then have to decipher the Master of Secret’s rather unique way of cataloguing his thoughts.
As he idly hefted the papers, he did not doubt that today would follow suit, having no reason to expect the meeting to run any differently from the usual.
At least that was the assumption he was working under until he was shown into the meeting chamber not into the presence of the King, but instead to his elder daughter, the Princess Persephone.
There was no flicker of surprise evident on the man’s inscrutable expression though, not as he let his cool blue eyes take a dispassionate assessment of the young woman, nor as he moved forward to take her hand and bow in greeting.
“Quite so, your highness. I should expect nothing less from one such as yourself” the man’s answer came as he straightened back to his full height. Not particularly brawny, the spymaster was instead of a leaner form, tall and lanky almost beneath the dark emerald chiton and subtle gold accessories. Those were only upon Elysia’s insistence: Cicero’s claim that he was valued by the crown for his mind, not his appearance only being met with a snide remark about how they couldn’t see his mind. He had conceded because marriage had at least taught him the value of choosing his battles.
Cicero set the papers he carried down upon the edge of the chaise he stood next to, and reaching for the watered wine, looked questioningly at the young woman. “May I pour for yourself, your highness?” When and only when he was certain the young Princess was catered for did he seat himself opposite her.
The elder daughter of King Minas had been a presence at court and within the senate for as long as Cicero had held his role of Master of Secrets, and the man held a cautious level of respect for a girl of her years who had proven herself so capable. Still, it was rather a novelty for Cicero to have such a chance to deal with the Princess on a one to one basis. Sitting back, he gestured towards the papers beside him. “ I have, of course, detailed everything in writing so you will be able to share with his majesty if necessary” he began. “ Are you...familiar with my work, Princess Persephone?”
It was not the most subtle way of probing at the level of understanding the young woman had, but sometimes Cicero could not be bothered, and it would save them both a lot of time if they just cleared it up from the offset.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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If he were to be brutally honest about it - and Cicero did have a tendency to be exactly that - the monthly reportings into the King were one of the tedious tasks that his job entailed. It was not that he had any particular dislike for his monarch, indeed King Minas was relatively likeable as far as people went. It was more the humdrum, mundane subject matter such sessions tended toward. If there were anything of note then, of course, it would be brought to the attention of the King long before a monthly scheduled meeting. And as such, the topics discussed tended toward the insignificant, dreary, inutile matters that Cicero would much prefer to leave in the care of his young clerk and not become involved in.
But it was a necessary evil, and so the Master of Secrets had dutifully presented himself at the Palati, precisely when he was due to be received by the King. Sometimes he would come a little early and catch up with those little whisperers he had in the palace, but this was not such a day. Instead, the man followed the servant through the sweeping halls of the palace. Under his arm was tucked the usual stack of papers, ostensibly written accounts of all that would be discussed, though they were rarely referred to. Instead, Cicero would just drop them with a thunk onto the desk of the chief scribe on his way out of the palati, smiling a catlike smile at the man who would then have to decipher the Master of Secret’s rather unique way of cataloguing his thoughts.
As he idly hefted the papers, he did not doubt that today would follow suit, having no reason to expect the meeting to run any differently from the usual.
At least that was the assumption he was working under until he was shown into the meeting chamber not into the presence of the King, but instead to his elder daughter, the Princess Persephone.
There was no flicker of surprise evident on the man’s inscrutable expression though, not as he let his cool blue eyes take a dispassionate assessment of the young woman, nor as he moved forward to take her hand and bow in greeting.
“Quite so, your highness. I should expect nothing less from one such as yourself” the man’s answer came as he straightened back to his full height. Not particularly brawny, the spymaster was instead of a leaner form, tall and lanky almost beneath the dark emerald chiton and subtle gold accessories. Those were only upon Elysia’s insistence: Cicero’s claim that he was valued by the crown for his mind, not his appearance only being met with a snide remark about how they couldn’t see his mind. He had conceded because marriage had at least taught him the value of choosing his battles.
Cicero set the papers he carried down upon the edge of the chaise he stood next to, and reaching for the watered wine, looked questioningly at the young woman. “May I pour for yourself, your highness?” When and only when he was certain the young Princess was catered for did he seat himself opposite her.
The elder daughter of King Minas had been a presence at court and within the senate for as long as Cicero had held his role of Master of Secrets, and the man held a cautious level of respect for a girl of her years who had proven herself so capable. Still, it was rather a novelty for Cicero to have such a chance to deal with the Princess on a one to one basis. Sitting back, he gestured towards the papers beside him. “ I have, of course, detailed everything in writing so you will be able to share with his majesty if necessary” he began. “ Are you...familiar with my work, Princess Persephone?”
It was not the most subtle way of probing at the level of understanding the young woman had, but sometimes Cicero could not be bothered, and it would save them both a lot of time if they just cleared it up from the offset.
If he were to be brutally honest about it - and Cicero did have a tendency to be exactly that - the monthly reportings into the King were one of the tedious tasks that his job entailed. It was not that he had any particular dislike for his monarch, indeed King Minas was relatively likeable as far as people went. It was more the humdrum, mundane subject matter such sessions tended toward. If there were anything of note then, of course, it would be brought to the attention of the King long before a monthly scheduled meeting. And as such, the topics discussed tended toward the insignificant, dreary, inutile matters that Cicero would much prefer to leave in the care of his young clerk and not become involved in.
But it was a necessary evil, and so the Master of Secrets had dutifully presented himself at the Palati, precisely when he was due to be received by the King. Sometimes he would come a little early and catch up with those little whisperers he had in the palace, but this was not such a day. Instead, the man followed the servant through the sweeping halls of the palace. Under his arm was tucked the usual stack of papers, ostensibly written accounts of all that would be discussed, though they were rarely referred to. Instead, Cicero would just drop them with a thunk onto the desk of the chief scribe on his way out of the palati, smiling a catlike smile at the man who would then have to decipher the Master of Secret’s rather unique way of cataloguing his thoughts.
As he idly hefted the papers, he did not doubt that today would follow suit, having no reason to expect the meeting to run any differently from the usual.
At least that was the assumption he was working under until he was shown into the meeting chamber not into the presence of the King, but instead to his elder daughter, the Princess Persephone.
There was no flicker of surprise evident on the man’s inscrutable expression though, not as he let his cool blue eyes take a dispassionate assessment of the young woman, nor as he moved forward to take her hand and bow in greeting.
“Quite so, your highness. I should expect nothing less from one such as yourself” the man’s answer came as he straightened back to his full height. Not particularly brawny, the spymaster was instead of a leaner form, tall and lanky almost beneath the dark emerald chiton and subtle gold accessories. Those were only upon Elysia’s insistence: Cicero’s claim that he was valued by the crown for his mind, not his appearance only being met with a snide remark about how they couldn’t see his mind. He had conceded because marriage had at least taught him the value of choosing his battles.
Cicero set the papers he carried down upon the edge of the chaise he stood next to, and reaching for the watered wine, looked questioningly at the young woman. “May I pour for yourself, your highness?” When and only when he was certain the young Princess was catered for did he seat himself opposite her.
The elder daughter of King Minas had been a presence at court and within the senate for as long as Cicero had held his role of Master of Secrets, and the man held a cautious level of respect for a girl of her years who had proven herself so capable. Still, it was rather a novelty for Cicero to have such a chance to deal with the Princess on a one to one basis. Sitting back, he gestured towards the papers beside him. “ I have, of course, detailed everything in writing so you will be able to share with his majesty if necessary” he began. “ Are you...familiar with my work, Princess Persephone?”
It was not the most subtle way of probing at the level of understanding the young woman had, but sometimes Cicero could not be bothered, and it would save them both a lot of time if they just cleared it up from the offset.
A skilled socialiser, Persephone rarely found it trying to read another; to witness beyond the mask of their features, what they were thinking within their more cloaked intentions. For Athenians never spoke what their faces might show and rarely did either match their mind. They were skilled wordsmiths and the higher borne of the kingdom were well educated and encouraged to never reveal their hand to another. It was this protectiveness of their inner mind that had given rise the reputation of Athenians being aloof, cold and distant. Yet, to themselves, and within their own social interactions, it was simply the normal way of life.
With this in mind, Persephone had been raised with skilled tutors, taught to analyse facial expressions, to learn the histories of families and how each of the royal houses raised their own offspring... how members of the Court whom she might have never met on a personal basis might think and feel; where they might stand on particular issues. She knew a handful of potential routes that their mindset might take them over a decision she made or a statement she spoke before either had been revealed to them. And then the barest hints of reaction that could not be entirely hidden were hers to read as guidance on which prophetic interpretation had been correct.
Long before her mother had passed, Persephone was able to read people. And since then, it had been a primary purpose of both her lessons and her life. As a woman without as much legal power behind her as a prince would hold - or that her father had to his name and crown - Persephone had had to learn to swim in shark-infested waters by her own skill, rather than attach herself to a boat or vessel.
So, when the Master Cicero entered the solar chamber and greeted her with all the appropriate propriety but a face that revealed almost nothing of his internal thoughts, Persephone was surprised to find that he was harder to assess than others. His tone was dry and calm to the point where it could have been found as sarcastic or bored. And yet his eyes were alight and his mind clearly applied and it offered a sense of genuineness. Together, the contradiction left an audience none the wiser as to which was true.
When he stepped forward to take her hand and offer a bow, his mannerisms were just as noncommittal in either direction and Persephone chastised herself for a fool over her egotism. For of course this man would be difficult to read, regardless of her training from a young age. Just exactly what did she expect him to do for a profession?
As Master Informer of Athenia, Cicero was privy to the secrets and whispers of all. Be they of the upper classes or common born, it was his role and duty to learn and know every thought in every heard of the nation. Not exactly a small order to manage. Generally, his reports focused upon Senators and then Courtiers with the general populace and peerage falling somewhere lower on the list. Smaller communities tended to think and speak with one voice and their general feeling summarised in a report equally universal. Those with power to their name were potentially more dangerous in individual thought.
When the man found himself a seat, setting his papers down to one side and reaching for the watered wine as his preference of drink, Persephone settled herself across from him in a manner that defiantly ladylike but unmistakeable in its authority. Seated elegantly on the edge of the chaise, her knees together and to one side and her body turned to face the senator, Persephone placed her hands demurely in her lap, folded together and her head was held straight and true. Had the posture been adopted by any other than a lady of royal rank it might have been considered austere or lauding to sit so. But for a princess to hold herself with the grace of a statue... it was expected rather than judged.
With a single raising of her hand, the ball of her palm still upon the silks of her skirts, her palm out towards her guest, Persephone declined the efforts of him pouring her a glass.
"Thank you, but no." she stated simply, not thirsty in that moment. He accepted the answer and turned to the business at hand, settling himself upon the seat and the edges of his emerald chiton baring an inch more of ankle.
When he commented on bringing his work to her in physical form and then queried her familiarity with the dealings in his field, Persephone inclined her head.
"I can assure you that I am, Master Cicero." She stated with a simple and pleasant tone to her voice. "I have read your reports for the last seven lunar cycles and must compliment you on their detail. Your work speaks of a perfectionist nature that I ne'er wish to find fault upon." Such a statement might have been seen a pure flattery but it rolled from Persephone's tongue in a manner that was natural and appeared sincere. "I am sure my father will be equally pleased by this month's report though I find my curiosity stealing the better of me so that I may ask if the younger Lady Eleros yet knows that it is Lady Meras of Laconis that has been blackmailing her brother?"
The last report that the Master Informer had submitted was to confirm that the younger daughter of the House of Eleros had discovered such a shadow over her brother but gave no name of the perpetrator. Persephone had discovered that for herself within gossip of the Courts, picking little pieces of dialogue here and there and forming them into a working and understandable motive. She had yet to confirm such a theory but thought it strong enough in foundation to present it as potential fact before the man whose duty it was to know all the decant details...
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Check out their information page here.
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A skilled socialiser, Persephone rarely found it trying to read another; to witness beyond the mask of their features, what they were thinking within their more cloaked intentions. For Athenians never spoke what their faces might show and rarely did either match their mind. They were skilled wordsmiths and the higher borne of the kingdom were well educated and encouraged to never reveal their hand to another. It was this protectiveness of their inner mind that had given rise the reputation of Athenians being aloof, cold and distant. Yet, to themselves, and within their own social interactions, it was simply the normal way of life.
With this in mind, Persephone had been raised with skilled tutors, taught to analyse facial expressions, to learn the histories of families and how each of the royal houses raised their own offspring... how members of the Court whom she might have never met on a personal basis might think and feel; where they might stand on particular issues. She knew a handful of potential routes that their mindset might take them over a decision she made or a statement she spoke before either had been revealed to them. And then the barest hints of reaction that could not be entirely hidden were hers to read as guidance on which prophetic interpretation had been correct.
Long before her mother had passed, Persephone was able to read people. And since then, it had been a primary purpose of both her lessons and her life. As a woman without as much legal power behind her as a prince would hold - or that her father had to his name and crown - Persephone had had to learn to swim in shark-infested waters by her own skill, rather than attach herself to a boat or vessel.
So, when the Master Cicero entered the solar chamber and greeted her with all the appropriate propriety but a face that revealed almost nothing of his internal thoughts, Persephone was surprised to find that he was harder to assess than others. His tone was dry and calm to the point where it could have been found as sarcastic or bored. And yet his eyes were alight and his mind clearly applied and it offered a sense of genuineness. Together, the contradiction left an audience none the wiser as to which was true.
When he stepped forward to take her hand and offer a bow, his mannerisms were just as noncommittal in either direction and Persephone chastised herself for a fool over her egotism. For of course this man would be difficult to read, regardless of her training from a young age. Just exactly what did she expect him to do for a profession?
As Master Informer of Athenia, Cicero was privy to the secrets and whispers of all. Be they of the upper classes or common born, it was his role and duty to learn and know every thought in every heard of the nation. Not exactly a small order to manage. Generally, his reports focused upon Senators and then Courtiers with the general populace and peerage falling somewhere lower on the list. Smaller communities tended to think and speak with one voice and their general feeling summarised in a report equally universal. Those with power to their name were potentially more dangerous in individual thought.
When the man found himself a seat, setting his papers down to one side and reaching for the watered wine as his preference of drink, Persephone settled herself across from him in a manner that defiantly ladylike but unmistakeable in its authority. Seated elegantly on the edge of the chaise, her knees together and to one side and her body turned to face the senator, Persephone placed her hands demurely in her lap, folded together and her head was held straight and true. Had the posture been adopted by any other than a lady of royal rank it might have been considered austere or lauding to sit so. But for a princess to hold herself with the grace of a statue... it was expected rather than judged.
With a single raising of her hand, the ball of her palm still upon the silks of her skirts, her palm out towards her guest, Persephone declined the efforts of him pouring her a glass.
"Thank you, but no." she stated simply, not thirsty in that moment. He accepted the answer and turned to the business at hand, settling himself upon the seat and the edges of his emerald chiton baring an inch more of ankle.
When he commented on bringing his work to her in physical form and then queried her familiarity with the dealings in his field, Persephone inclined her head.
"I can assure you that I am, Master Cicero." She stated with a simple and pleasant tone to her voice. "I have read your reports for the last seven lunar cycles and must compliment you on their detail. Your work speaks of a perfectionist nature that I ne'er wish to find fault upon." Such a statement might have been seen a pure flattery but it rolled from Persephone's tongue in a manner that was natural and appeared sincere. "I am sure my father will be equally pleased by this month's report though I find my curiosity stealing the better of me so that I may ask if the younger Lady Eleros yet knows that it is Lady Meras of Laconis that has been blackmailing her brother?"
The last report that the Master Informer had submitted was to confirm that the younger daughter of the House of Eleros had discovered such a shadow over her brother but gave no name of the perpetrator. Persephone had discovered that for herself within gossip of the Courts, picking little pieces of dialogue here and there and forming them into a working and understandable motive. She had yet to confirm such a theory but thought it strong enough in foundation to present it as potential fact before the man whose duty it was to know all the decant details...
A skilled socialiser, Persephone rarely found it trying to read another; to witness beyond the mask of their features, what they were thinking within their more cloaked intentions. For Athenians never spoke what their faces might show and rarely did either match their mind. They were skilled wordsmiths and the higher borne of the kingdom were well educated and encouraged to never reveal their hand to another. It was this protectiveness of their inner mind that had given rise the reputation of Athenians being aloof, cold and distant. Yet, to themselves, and within their own social interactions, it was simply the normal way of life.
With this in mind, Persephone had been raised with skilled tutors, taught to analyse facial expressions, to learn the histories of families and how each of the royal houses raised their own offspring... how members of the Court whom she might have never met on a personal basis might think and feel; where they might stand on particular issues. She knew a handful of potential routes that their mindset might take them over a decision she made or a statement she spoke before either had been revealed to them. And then the barest hints of reaction that could not be entirely hidden were hers to read as guidance on which prophetic interpretation had been correct.
Long before her mother had passed, Persephone was able to read people. And since then, it had been a primary purpose of both her lessons and her life. As a woman without as much legal power behind her as a prince would hold - or that her father had to his name and crown - Persephone had had to learn to swim in shark-infested waters by her own skill, rather than attach herself to a boat or vessel.
So, when the Master Cicero entered the solar chamber and greeted her with all the appropriate propriety but a face that revealed almost nothing of his internal thoughts, Persephone was surprised to find that he was harder to assess than others. His tone was dry and calm to the point where it could have been found as sarcastic or bored. And yet his eyes were alight and his mind clearly applied and it offered a sense of genuineness. Together, the contradiction left an audience none the wiser as to which was true.
When he stepped forward to take her hand and offer a bow, his mannerisms were just as noncommittal in either direction and Persephone chastised herself for a fool over her egotism. For of course this man would be difficult to read, regardless of her training from a young age. Just exactly what did she expect him to do for a profession?
As Master Informer of Athenia, Cicero was privy to the secrets and whispers of all. Be they of the upper classes or common born, it was his role and duty to learn and know every thought in every heard of the nation. Not exactly a small order to manage. Generally, his reports focused upon Senators and then Courtiers with the general populace and peerage falling somewhere lower on the list. Smaller communities tended to think and speak with one voice and their general feeling summarised in a report equally universal. Those with power to their name were potentially more dangerous in individual thought.
When the man found himself a seat, setting his papers down to one side and reaching for the watered wine as his preference of drink, Persephone settled herself across from him in a manner that defiantly ladylike but unmistakeable in its authority. Seated elegantly on the edge of the chaise, her knees together and to one side and her body turned to face the senator, Persephone placed her hands demurely in her lap, folded together and her head was held straight and true. Had the posture been adopted by any other than a lady of royal rank it might have been considered austere or lauding to sit so. But for a princess to hold herself with the grace of a statue... it was expected rather than judged.
With a single raising of her hand, the ball of her palm still upon the silks of her skirts, her palm out towards her guest, Persephone declined the efforts of him pouring her a glass.
"Thank you, but no." she stated simply, not thirsty in that moment. He accepted the answer and turned to the business at hand, settling himself upon the seat and the edges of his emerald chiton baring an inch more of ankle.
When he commented on bringing his work to her in physical form and then queried her familiarity with the dealings in his field, Persephone inclined her head.
"I can assure you that I am, Master Cicero." She stated with a simple and pleasant tone to her voice. "I have read your reports for the last seven lunar cycles and must compliment you on their detail. Your work speaks of a perfectionist nature that I ne'er wish to find fault upon." Such a statement might have been seen a pure flattery but it rolled from Persephone's tongue in a manner that was natural and appeared sincere. "I am sure my father will be equally pleased by this month's report though I find my curiosity stealing the better of me so that I may ask if the younger Lady Eleros yet knows that it is Lady Meras of Laconis that has been blackmailing her brother?"
The last report that the Master Informer had submitted was to confirm that the younger daughter of the House of Eleros had discovered such a shadow over her brother but gave no name of the perpetrator. Persephone had discovered that for herself within gossip of the Courts, picking little pieces of dialogue here and there and forming them into a working and understandable motive. She had yet to confirm such a theory but thought it strong enough in foundation to present it as potential fact before the man whose duty it was to know all the decant details...
Whilst Persephone was busy chastising herself for not being able to get a good read on the man before her, Cicero himself was quietly impressed at her own inscrutability. It was a good thing to foster, particularly in one of royal blood. No accidental offence to be given by a fleeting expression, nor secrets revealed by an inability to guard one's thoughts or feelings. He could applaud the young Princess for having already progressed some way towards that.
He gave a nod when she refused wine, sat opposite the young woman and took a sip himself before he set out his question, and looked on as she made her answer. If he were either surprised or impressed by her diligence in keeping abreast of his work, the man made no show of it, but he did raise his brows a little at the compliment. Were it genuine, he could offer some approval in finding one who could appreciate his detailed, if not always the most organised, of notes.
“My apologies” he murmured dryly, before offering an explanation “I am certain you must have more entertaining reading material available to you, my lady.” As Persephone went on though, it became apparent that not only had she read those reports, but had actually retained pertinent facts within enough to embellish with her own findings. That had the Master of Secrets smile a small, tight smile and Cicero leant forward to place his chalice on the table between them.
“My congratulations to you, your highness, on piecing together the puzzle that our dear Lady Eleros has not yet been able to. I have detailed the current state of play within my report, but I would assume you have learnt the most of it? Pray tell me, how was it you found yourself at this conclusion?”
It had not taken much to uncover, but then Cicero had a wealth of resources at his fingertips that he believed were rather unique to him. The Princess must be sharp of mind and a good observer herself if she had whittled the answer from her days in court. Of course, there was nothing on great impact associated with the attempted extortion. Cicero had long grown tired with the trials of young Lords who could not keep in their pants, and scorned young ladies who did wished to exact their revenge. Still, it was worthy to keep the royals appraised of such cases where there was a risk of wider upset, should gossip and petty grudges become anything more serious.
“I take it as I have had no instruction that you do not wish me to intercede at this point, your highness? I have more than a few things that I could leverage against the Lady Meras should it be your wish to end this?”
It was a sad fact that the woman’s honour could be as easily tarnished as the man’s, with likely more far reaching consequences. Cicero would only have to send a carefully worded missive and he had the feeling that the protagonist in that particular little saga would be quick to halt in her machinations.
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Whilst Persephone was busy chastising herself for not being able to get a good read on the man before her, Cicero himself was quietly impressed at her own inscrutability. It was a good thing to foster, particularly in one of royal blood. No accidental offence to be given by a fleeting expression, nor secrets revealed by an inability to guard one's thoughts or feelings. He could applaud the young Princess for having already progressed some way towards that.
He gave a nod when she refused wine, sat opposite the young woman and took a sip himself before he set out his question, and looked on as she made her answer. If he were either surprised or impressed by her diligence in keeping abreast of his work, the man made no show of it, but he did raise his brows a little at the compliment. Were it genuine, he could offer some approval in finding one who could appreciate his detailed, if not always the most organised, of notes.
“My apologies” he murmured dryly, before offering an explanation “I am certain you must have more entertaining reading material available to you, my lady.” As Persephone went on though, it became apparent that not only had she read those reports, but had actually retained pertinent facts within enough to embellish with her own findings. That had the Master of Secrets smile a small, tight smile and Cicero leant forward to place his chalice on the table between them.
“My congratulations to you, your highness, on piecing together the puzzle that our dear Lady Eleros has not yet been able to. I have detailed the current state of play within my report, but I would assume you have learnt the most of it? Pray tell me, how was it you found yourself at this conclusion?”
It had not taken much to uncover, but then Cicero had a wealth of resources at his fingertips that he believed were rather unique to him. The Princess must be sharp of mind and a good observer herself if she had whittled the answer from her days in court. Of course, there was nothing on great impact associated with the attempted extortion. Cicero had long grown tired with the trials of young Lords who could not keep in their pants, and scorned young ladies who did wished to exact their revenge. Still, it was worthy to keep the royals appraised of such cases where there was a risk of wider upset, should gossip and petty grudges become anything more serious.
“I take it as I have had no instruction that you do not wish me to intercede at this point, your highness? I have more than a few things that I could leverage against the Lady Meras should it be your wish to end this?”
It was a sad fact that the woman’s honour could be as easily tarnished as the man’s, with likely more far reaching consequences. Cicero would only have to send a carefully worded missive and he had the feeling that the protagonist in that particular little saga would be quick to halt in her machinations.
Whilst Persephone was busy chastising herself for not being able to get a good read on the man before her, Cicero himself was quietly impressed at her own inscrutability. It was a good thing to foster, particularly in one of royal blood. No accidental offence to be given by a fleeting expression, nor secrets revealed by an inability to guard one's thoughts or feelings. He could applaud the young Princess for having already progressed some way towards that.
He gave a nod when she refused wine, sat opposite the young woman and took a sip himself before he set out his question, and looked on as she made her answer. If he were either surprised or impressed by her diligence in keeping abreast of his work, the man made no show of it, but he did raise his brows a little at the compliment. Were it genuine, he could offer some approval in finding one who could appreciate his detailed, if not always the most organised, of notes.
“My apologies” he murmured dryly, before offering an explanation “I am certain you must have more entertaining reading material available to you, my lady.” As Persephone went on though, it became apparent that not only had she read those reports, but had actually retained pertinent facts within enough to embellish with her own findings. That had the Master of Secrets smile a small, tight smile and Cicero leant forward to place his chalice on the table between them.
“My congratulations to you, your highness, on piecing together the puzzle that our dear Lady Eleros has not yet been able to. I have detailed the current state of play within my report, but I would assume you have learnt the most of it? Pray tell me, how was it you found yourself at this conclusion?”
It had not taken much to uncover, but then Cicero had a wealth of resources at his fingertips that he believed were rather unique to him. The Princess must be sharp of mind and a good observer herself if she had whittled the answer from her days in court. Of course, there was nothing on great impact associated with the attempted extortion. Cicero had long grown tired with the trials of young Lords who could not keep in their pants, and scorned young ladies who did wished to exact their revenge. Still, it was worthy to keep the royals appraised of such cases where there was a risk of wider upset, should gossip and petty grudges become anything more serious.
“I take it as I have had no instruction that you do not wish me to intercede at this point, your highness? I have more than a few things that I could leverage against the Lady Meras should it be your wish to end this?”
It was a sad fact that the woman’s honour could be as easily tarnished as the man’s, with likely more far reaching consequences. Cicero would only have to send a carefully worded missive and he had the feeling that the protagonist in that particular little saga would be quick to halt in her machinations.
Persephone watched the man across from her, noting the rising of his brows when she spoke of her compliments to him. When he suggested that she might have finer or more entertaining material to read, Persephone made a mental note of the sorts of female royals that Cicero was perhaps more used to dealing with. Or perhaps the impression he had gotten of her over the years he had held his post. Perhaps he thought her of a similar ilk to Emilia - able to be distracted by anything that was pretty or with a desire to see to fun over duty. She wasn't offended by this assumption, for she knew many princesses that held to that belief including at one point or another both of her aunts and her sister. She simply found herself renewed in her ambition to prove such a visage - if it had formed in the mind of the Master Informer - inaccurate.
When the man asked how it was that she had become aware of such things, Persephone smiled and ducked her gaze a little in a show of demure modesty over her claims. She shook her head a little as if to dispell any sense of praise that might come her way for discovering what she had, for it had not been some voyage of discovery of truth that had led her to the conclusions she had. Conclusions proven correct by the Master Informer's answer. It had been simple Court politics.
"I confess I was not entirely certain of the claim until you confirmed it. I pieced it together for a series of details, any one of which might be inaccurate." Despite the admittance of weakness, Persephone sat with a tall spine and a forthright manner of dignity that showed now shame in being fallible.
"The young girl named Lissa, I knew, stayed with the House of Eleros a few months ago. She stayed with them for several weeks in order to learn from their eldest daughter and perhaps acquire a retainer position. She was introduced at the weekly Court session and seemed, to me, to hold all the appropriate qualities that a fine lady in waiting should harbour. As each session of Court progressed during her visit her behaviour grew more confident, more feminine." Persephone paused and offered only an amused expression. "Some ladies do such things with only the perception of attention from a man they enjoy the gaze of, I find." She then reached to pick up a piece of the cheese that rested on the silver plate of refreshment. She ate it quickly and then dusted her fingers on a provided cloth before continuing. "It was a surprise to many when the Lady Lissa never became a Lady at all and Lady Eleros' brother insisted that she be sent back home. My interest was piqued as to why he should care when he himself was betrothed to another girl entirely."
Persephone turned back to the Master Informer and nodded towards the physical report he had for this month.
"Your last report, Master Cicero, noted the Lady Meras in the company of a woman that fit the description of this Lissa. And since then the financial reports of both Houses have started to be skewed in the favour of Lady Meras's family in Laconis."
Persephone lifted on shoulder nonchalantly.
"I can only tell you with certainty that this Lissa was an attendant at court for three weeks and then disappeared from view. I know nothing else for definite besides inference, but it is my estimation that the Lord of Eleros had some form of liaison with Lissa, gave her attentions that he could not see through, dismissed her from the company of his household and had the misfortune to allow her to run into Lady Meras. With his state of betrothal, leverage springs easily to mind. And Laconis has been struggling in recent times financially. The storm that caused great issues in Aetaea passed only a little into Laconis but enough to descimate some of their more delicate and most expensive produce."
"As for whether or not the blackmail should cease... such a decision is down to my father but I would be inclined to advise against it. Without the extortion, Laconis risks being unable to pay its taxes towards the crown which will only increase the charges upon their businesses. The commonfolk of the land would be unable to sustain such a cost and many would suffer. House Eleros can stand to lose a little extra finance." Her gaze was unyielding and a little crafty as she made such a choice. She glanced at the man across from her. "Yet any such knowledge that would ensure a ceasation of such duplicity would be important so that we can control the exact moment that it should end, of course."
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Persephone watched the man across from her, noting the rising of his brows when she spoke of her compliments to him. When he suggested that she might have finer or more entertaining material to read, Persephone made a mental note of the sorts of female royals that Cicero was perhaps more used to dealing with. Or perhaps the impression he had gotten of her over the years he had held his post. Perhaps he thought her of a similar ilk to Emilia - able to be distracted by anything that was pretty or with a desire to see to fun over duty. She wasn't offended by this assumption, for she knew many princesses that held to that belief including at one point or another both of her aunts and her sister. She simply found herself renewed in her ambition to prove such a visage - if it had formed in the mind of the Master Informer - inaccurate.
When the man asked how it was that she had become aware of such things, Persephone smiled and ducked her gaze a little in a show of demure modesty over her claims. She shook her head a little as if to dispell any sense of praise that might come her way for discovering what she had, for it had not been some voyage of discovery of truth that had led her to the conclusions she had. Conclusions proven correct by the Master Informer's answer. It had been simple Court politics.
"I confess I was not entirely certain of the claim until you confirmed it. I pieced it together for a series of details, any one of which might be inaccurate." Despite the admittance of weakness, Persephone sat with a tall spine and a forthright manner of dignity that showed now shame in being fallible.
"The young girl named Lissa, I knew, stayed with the House of Eleros a few months ago. She stayed with them for several weeks in order to learn from their eldest daughter and perhaps acquire a retainer position. She was introduced at the weekly Court session and seemed, to me, to hold all the appropriate qualities that a fine lady in waiting should harbour. As each session of Court progressed during her visit her behaviour grew more confident, more feminine." Persephone paused and offered only an amused expression. "Some ladies do such things with only the perception of attention from a man they enjoy the gaze of, I find." She then reached to pick up a piece of the cheese that rested on the silver plate of refreshment. She ate it quickly and then dusted her fingers on a provided cloth before continuing. "It was a surprise to many when the Lady Lissa never became a Lady at all and Lady Eleros' brother insisted that she be sent back home. My interest was piqued as to why he should care when he himself was betrothed to another girl entirely."
Persephone turned back to the Master Informer and nodded towards the physical report he had for this month.
"Your last report, Master Cicero, noted the Lady Meras in the company of a woman that fit the description of this Lissa. And since then the financial reports of both Houses have started to be skewed in the favour of Lady Meras's family in Laconis."
Persephone lifted on shoulder nonchalantly.
"I can only tell you with certainty that this Lissa was an attendant at court for three weeks and then disappeared from view. I know nothing else for definite besides inference, but it is my estimation that the Lord of Eleros had some form of liaison with Lissa, gave her attentions that he could not see through, dismissed her from the company of his household and had the misfortune to allow her to run into Lady Meras. With his state of betrothal, leverage springs easily to mind. And Laconis has been struggling in recent times financially. The storm that caused great issues in Aetaea passed only a little into Laconis but enough to descimate some of their more delicate and most expensive produce."
"As for whether or not the blackmail should cease... such a decision is down to my father but I would be inclined to advise against it. Without the extortion, Laconis risks being unable to pay its taxes towards the crown which will only increase the charges upon their businesses. The commonfolk of the land would be unable to sustain such a cost and many would suffer. House Eleros can stand to lose a little extra finance." Her gaze was unyielding and a little crafty as she made such a choice. She glanced at the man across from her. "Yet any such knowledge that would ensure a ceasation of such duplicity would be important so that we can control the exact moment that it should end, of course."
Persephone watched the man across from her, noting the rising of his brows when she spoke of her compliments to him. When he suggested that she might have finer or more entertaining material to read, Persephone made a mental note of the sorts of female royals that Cicero was perhaps more used to dealing with. Or perhaps the impression he had gotten of her over the years he had held his post. Perhaps he thought her of a similar ilk to Emilia - able to be distracted by anything that was pretty or with a desire to see to fun over duty. She wasn't offended by this assumption, for she knew many princesses that held to that belief including at one point or another both of her aunts and her sister. She simply found herself renewed in her ambition to prove such a visage - if it had formed in the mind of the Master Informer - inaccurate.
When the man asked how it was that she had become aware of such things, Persephone smiled and ducked her gaze a little in a show of demure modesty over her claims. She shook her head a little as if to dispell any sense of praise that might come her way for discovering what she had, for it had not been some voyage of discovery of truth that had led her to the conclusions she had. Conclusions proven correct by the Master Informer's answer. It had been simple Court politics.
"I confess I was not entirely certain of the claim until you confirmed it. I pieced it together for a series of details, any one of which might be inaccurate." Despite the admittance of weakness, Persephone sat with a tall spine and a forthright manner of dignity that showed now shame in being fallible.
"The young girl named Lissa, I knew, stayed with the House of Eleros a few months ago. She stayed with them for several weeks in order to learn from their eldest daughter and perhaps acquire a retainer position. She was introduced at the weekly Court session and seemed, to me, to hold all the appropriate qualities that a fine lady in waiting should harbour. As each session of Court progressed during her visit her behaviour grew more confident, more feminine." Persephone paused and offered only an amused expression. "Some ladies do such things with only the perception of attention from a man they enjoy the gaze of, I find." She then reached to pick up a piece of the cheese that rested on the silver plate of refreshment. She ate it quickly and then dusted her fingers on a provided cloth before continuing. "It was a surprise to many when the Lady Lissa never became a Lady at all and Lady Eleros' brother insisted that she be sent back home. My interest was piqued as to why he should care when he himself was betrothed to another girl entirely."
Persephone turned back to the Master Informer and nodded towards the physical report he had for this month.
"Your last report, Master Cicero, noted the Lady Meras in the company of a woman that fit the description of this Lissa. And since then the financial reports of both Houses have started to be skewed in the favour of Lady Meras's family in Laconis."
Persephone lifted on shoulder nonchalantly.
"I can only tell you with certainty that this Lissa was an attendant at court for three weeks and then disappeared from view. I know nothing else for definite besides inference, but it is my estimation that the Lord of Eleros had some form of liaison with Lissa, gave her attentions that he could not see through, dismissed her from the company of his household and had the misfortune to allow her to run into Lady Meras. With his state of betrothal, leverage springs easily to mind. And Laconis has been struggling in recent times financially. The storm that caused great issues in Aetaea passed only a little into Laconis but enough to descimate some of their more delicate and most expensive produce."
"As for whether or not the blackmail should cease... such a decision is down to my father but I would be inclined to advise against it. Without the extortion, Laconis risks being unable to pay its taxes towards the crown which will only increase the charges upon their businesses. The commonfolk of the land would be unable to sustain such a cost and many would suffer. House Eleros can stand to lose a little extra finance." Her gaze was unyielding and a little crafty as she made such a choice. She glanced at the man across from her. "Yet any such knowledge that would ensure a ceasation of such duplicity would be important so that we can control the exact moment that it should end, of course."
The master informer sat back, the long and lean lines of him suggestive of inattention, but the grey-blue gaze that rested upon the Princess was pin sharp. It was the kind of surprise Cicero enjoyed: finding deeper waters where one might have expected shallow pools, some substance where there might have been only style. If the Princess Persephone was keen of mind enough to pay attention to the undercurrents within her court already then Cicero had no concerns that when it came to it, she would be just as attentive to matters of greater import, and that made his job a lot easier.
He was an intelligent man, and it was one of his biggest grievances in life when those of lesser intelligence would discount his words due to their own lack of understanding. King Xanthos was not such a man, and it seemed hopeful that his daughter held the smarts to follow in her father’s footsteps. Marvellous.
Listening as she indeed pieced together the puzzle of petty court politics, Cicero allowed himself to be mildly impressed. And when she had finished, he pushed upright to reach for his chalice once more, taking a sip of wine before he responded. “ Amplified of course by the fact that Lady Meras had considered the Lord Eleros her own paramour right up until the moment she heard of his betrothal from her friends. Really, it was dry tinder waiting for a spark.”
When the Princess finished by stating the import of having the ammunition to end such extortion at the right moment, the spymaster gave a nod of deference.
“Such information will be carefully reserved for when the time is proper then, your highness,” he said simply, setting his cup down once more. His hands folded loosely in his lap and Cicero scrutinised the young woman before him for a long moment before blinking and gesturing to the bound report that he had brought with him.
“There is nothing pressing, really, but I would draw your attention to the news I heard from my contacts that there has been some reports of disquiet in Pholis. Some unknown vessels making port, unsavoury types making trouble in the town. I called upon General Lacides to see if he was aware. He had not yet received word but is now looking into the matter.” Piracy was a growing concern, a threat that Cicero had been keeping half an eye for the past couple of years. His alliance with the Colchian Master Informer kept something of a handle on the situation but it took time to convey information and quite often the ships under question had already disappeared again. “Either way, it is a further sign of a need to watch the waters, which of course I shall do”
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The master informer sat back, the long and lean lines of him suggestive of inattention, but the grey-blue gaze that rested upon the Princess was pin sharp. It was the kind of surprise Cicero enjoyed: finding deeper waters where one might have expected shallow pools, some substance where there might have been only style. If the Princess Persephone was keen of mind enough to pay attention to the undercurrents within her court already then Cicero had no concerns that when it came to it, she would be just as attentive to matters of greater import, and that made his job a lot easier.
He was an intelligent man, and it was one of his biggest grievances in life when those of lesser intelligence would discount his words due to their own lack of understanding. King Xanthos was not such a man, and it seemed hopeful that his daughter held the smarts to follow in her father’s footsteps. Marvellous.
Listening as she indeed pieced together the puzzle of petty court politics, Cicero allowed himself to be mildly impressed. And when she had finished, he pushed upright to reach for his chalice once more, taking a sip of wine before he responded. “ Amplified of course by the fact that Lady Meras had considered the Lord Eleros her own paramour right up until the moment she heard of his betrothal from her friends. Really, it was dry tinder waiting for a spark.”
When the Princess finished by stating the import of having the ammunition to end such extortion at the right moment, the spymaster gave a nod of deference.
“Such information will be carefully reserved for when the time is proper then, your highness,” he said simply, setting his cup down once more. His hands folded loosely in his lap and Cicero scrutinised the young woman before him for a long moment before blinking and gesturing to the bound report that he had brought with him.
“There is nothing pressing, really, but I would draw your attention to the news I heard from my contacts that there has been some reports of disquiet in Pholis. Some unknown vessels making port, unsavoury types making trouble in the town. I called upon General Lacides to see if he was aware. He had not yet received word but is now looking into the matter.” Piracy was a growing concern, a threat that Cicero had been keeping half an eye for the past couple of years. His alliance with the Colchian Master Informer kept something of a handle on the situation but it took time to convey information and quite often the ships under question had already disappeared again. “Either way, it is a further sign of a need to watch the waters, which of course I shall do”
The master informer sat back, the long and lean lines of him suggestive of inattention, but the grey-blue gaze that rested upon the Princess was pin sharp. It was the kind of surprise Cicero enjoyed: finding deeper waters where one might have expected shallow pools, some substance where there might have been only style. If the Princess Persephone was keen of mind enough to pay attention to the undercurrents within her court already then Cicero had no concerns that when it came to it, she would be just as attentive to matters of greater import, and that made his job a lot easier.
He was an intelligent man, and it was one of his biggest grievances in life when those of lesser intelligence would discount his words due to their own lack of understanding. King Xanthos was not such a man, and it seemed hopeful that his daughter held the smarts to follow in her father’s footsteps. Marvellous.
Listening as she indeed pieced together the puzzle of petty court politics, Cicero allowed himself to be mildly impressed. And when she had finished, he pushed upright to reach for his chalice once more, taking a sip of wine before he responded. “ Amplified of course by the fact that Lady Meras had considered the Lord Eleros her own paramour right up until the moment she heard of his betrothal from her friends. Really, it was dry tinder waiting for a spark.”
When the Princess finished by stating the import of having the ammunition to end such extortion at the right moment, the spymaster gave a nod of deference.
“Such information will be carefully reserved for when the time is proper then, your highness,” he said simply, setting his cup down once more. His hands folded loosely in his lap and Cicero scrutinised the young woman before him for a long moment before blinking and gesturing to the bound report that he had brought with him.
“There is nothing pressing, really, but I would draw your attention to the news I heard from my contacts that there has been some reports of disquiet in Pholis. Some unknown vessels making port, unsavoury types making trouble in the town. I called upon General Lacides to see if he was aware. He had not yet received word but is now looking into the matter.” Piracy was a growing concern, a threat that Cicero had been keeping half an eye for the past couple of years. His alliance with the Colchian Master Informer kept something of a handle on the situation but it took time to convey information and quite often the ships under question had already disappeared again. “Either way, it is a further sign of a need to watch the waters, which of course I shall do”
Persephone delivered the information that she knew without concern or worry. The Master Informer Cicero was a trusted advisor to her father and servant to the Senate. He was a devoted Athenian and his reputation was one of a true connoisseur of his role; a man that could harbour a thousand secrets and spill absolutely none of them. Not to mention the fact that Minas had always made it very clear that the royals of the palati, in all their sheltered luxury, were unlikely to ever hear anything that Master Cicero did not already know. And on the very rare occasion that it happened, he would not be far behind. Therefore and therein it was a waste of time to try and hide information or secrets from the man. Instead, trust and solidarity needed to be continuously strengthened and built between the Master and the House of Xanthos, to ensure that their own secrets did not fall into the hands of others.
Whilst Persephone, and Minas, were not highly-intelligent, cerebral people in the same way that Master Cicero was, they were just clever enough to follow along such tales and understand the reports that the man made. Even if he did like to write them in his own sort of code and layout. Once his language had been decoded, the father and daughter of the Xanthos house were smart enough to ensure a clean reading and understanding of the reports made. Which was clearly something rare for the Master Cicero to behold.
Not that Persephone was aware of the level of impression she had made upon the man. His features were as blank as cool marble and his body language appeared almost bored. She only knew that he was listening to her because of the way his eyes focused upon her face and would not let go. They bore into her own with a sense of serene scrutiny that had the hairs on the back of her neck rise to attention.
When the man commented on how Lady Meras' previous attachment to the Eleros lord had seen her behaviour escalate, Persephone had nodded her head, the gesture tilted a little as if bestowing a point in their verbal back and forth. For she had known of such affections but not mentioned them or tied them to the situation at hand. She had quite forgotten them until Cicero had mentioned it.
"Quiet so." She agreed, offering nothing of her own ignorance on that particular connection.
When the conversation then moved on to this particular month's reports, Cicero's gesture moving to the bound block of parchment and leather, Persephone's focus did not sway or diminish. She watched him carefully as he mentioned a particular incident of piracy in the province of Pholis and how the Antonis had been made aware of it. She nodded her head simply and took up her chalice of wine to sip from as she considered his words.
"If you would care for it, I can ensure that the senatorial records for Pholis' trade in the last six months are opened to you, Master Cicero?" She offered. "And those of Lyncestia also...?" Lyncestia neighbored Pholis along the coastline and was barony to the Master of Trade's son. It was unlikely that pirates from the outer seas would be able to journey to Pholis without passing Lyncestian waters which meant that they were targeting the Antonis lands. "Perhaps by seeing which traders and businesses are achieving beyond their normal profits in Lyncestia we'll find a motive for opening opportunities to piracy trade in Pholis." If someone in Lyncestia wanted better value for their good, snuffing the competition in the next door province through theft and supply embargo would be an easy way to do it. Hard to trace as well...
Looking up from the bundle and towards Cicero, Persephone’s gaze was questioning, one eyebrow rising against her clear forehead. It was clear from her expression that she was not striking orders or making definitive commands. She was truly offering a suggestion that she was open to Cicero correcting or changing.
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Persephone delivered the information that she knew without concern or worry. The Master Informer Cicero was a trusted advisor to her father and servant to the Senate. He was a devoted Athenian and his reputation was one of a true connoisseur of his role; a man that could harbour a thousand secrets and spill absolutely none of them. Not to mention the fact that Minas had always made it very clear that the royals of the palati, in all their sheltered luxury, were unlikely to ever hear anything that Master Cicero did not already know. And on the very rare occasion that it happened, he would not be far behind. Therefore and therein it was a waste of time to try and hide information or secrets from the man. Instead, trust and solidarity needed to be continuously strengthened and built between the Master and the House of Xanthos, to ensure that their own secrets did not fall into the hands of others.
Whilst Persephone, and Minas, were not highly-intelligent, cerebral people in the same way that Master Cicero was, they were just clever enough to follow along such tales and understand the reports that the man made. Even if he did like to write them in his own sort of code and layout. Once his language had been decoded, the father and daughter of the Xanthos house were smart enough to ensure a clean reading and understanding of the reports made. Which was clearly something rare for the Master Cicero to behold.
Not that Persephone was aware of the level of impression she had made upon the man. His features were as blank as cool marble and his body language appeared almost bored. She only knew that he was listening to her because of the way his eyes focused upon her face and would not let go. They bore into her own with a sense of serene scrutiny that had the hairs on the back of her neck rise to attention.
When the man commented on how Lady Meras' previous attachment to the Eleros lord had seen her behaviour escalate, Persephone had nodded her head, the gesture tilted a little as if bestowing a point in their verbal back and forth. For she had known of such affections but not mentioned them or tied them to the situation at hand. She had quite forgotten them until Cicero had mentioned it.
"Quiet so." She agreed, offering nothing of her own ignorance on that particular connection.
When the conversation then moved on to this particular month's reports, Cicero's gesture moving to the bound block of parchment and leather, Persephone's focus did not sway or diminish. She watched him carefully as he mentioned a particular incident of piracy in the province of Pholis and how the Antonis had been made aware of it. She nodded her head simply and took up her chalice of wine to sip from as she considered his words.
"If you would care for it, I can ensure that the senatorial records for Pholis' trade in the last six months are opened to you, Master Cicero?" She offered. "And those of Lyncestia also...?" Lyncestia neighbored Pholis along the coastline and was barony to the Master of Trade's son. It was unlikely that pirates from the outer seas would be able to journey to Pholis without passing Lyncestian waters which meant that they were targeting the Antonis lands. "Perhaps by seeing which traders and businesses are achieving beyond their normal profits in Lyncestia we'll find a motive for opening opportunities to piracy trade in Pholis." If someone in Lyncestia wanted better value for their good, snuffing the competition in the next door province through theft and supply embargo would be an easy way to do it. Hard to trace as well...
Looking up from the bundle and towards Cicero, Persephone’s gaze was questioning, one eyebrow rising against her clear forehead. It was clear from her expression that she was not striking orders or making definitive commands. She was truly offering a suggestion that she was open to Cicero correcting or changing.
Persephone delivered the information that she knew without concern or worry. The Master Informer Cicero was a trusted advisor to her father and servant to the Senate. He was a devoted Athenian and his reputation was one of a true connoisseur of his role; a man that could harbour a thousand secrets and spill absolutely none of them. Not to mention the fact that Minas had always made it very clear that the royals of the palati, in all their sheltered luxury, were unlikely to ever hear anything that Master Cicero did not already know. And on the very rare occasion that it happened, he would not be far behind. Therefore and therein it was a waste of time to try and hide information or secrets from the man. Instead, trust and solidarity needed to be continuously strengthened and built between the Master and the House of Xanthos, to ensure that their own secrets did not fall into the hands of others.
Whilst Persephone, and Minas, were not highly-intelligent, cerebral people in the same way that Master Cicero was, they were just clever enough to follow along such tales and understand the reports that the man made. Even if he did like to write them in his own sort of code and layout. Once his language had been decoded, the father and daughter of the Xanthos house were smart enough to ensure a clean reading and understanding of the reports made. Which was clearly something rare for the Master Cicero to behold.
Not that Persephone was aware of the level of impression she had made upon the man. His features were as blank as cool marble and his body language appeared almost bored. She only knew that he was listening to her because of the way his eyes focused upon her face and would not let go. They bore into her own with a sense of serene scrutiny that had the hairs on the back of her neck rise to attention.
When the man commented on how Lady Meras' previous attachment to the Eleros lord had seen her behaviour escalate, Persephone had nodded her head, the gesture tilted a little as if bestowing a point in their verbal back and forth. For she had known of such affections but not mentioned them or tied them to the situation at hand. She had quite forgotten them until Cicero had mentioned it.
"Quiet so." She agreed, offering nothing of her own ignorance on that particular connection.
When the conversation then moved on to this particular month's reports, Cicero's gesture moving to the bound block of parchment and leather, Persephone's focus did not sway or diminish. She watched him carefully as he mentioned a particular incident of piracy in the province of Pholis and how the Antonis had been made aware of it. She nodded her head simply and took up her chalice of wine to sip from as she considered his words.
"If you would care for it, I can ensure that the senatorial records for Pholis' trade in the last six months are opened to you, Master Cicero?" She offered. "And those of Lyncestia also...?" Lyncestia neighbored Pholis along the coastline and was barony to the Master of Trade's son. It was unlikely that pirates from the outer seas would be able to journey to Pholis without passing Lyncestian waters which meant that they were targeting the Antonis lands. "Perhaps by seeing which traders and businesses are achieving beyond their normal profits in Lyncestia we'll find a motive for opening opportunities to piracy trade in Pholis." If someone in Lyncestia wanted better value for their good, snuffing the competition in the next door province through theft and supply embargo would be an easy way to do it. Hard to trace as well...
Looking up from the bundle and towards Cicero, Persephone’s gaze was questioning, one eyebrow rising against her clear forehead. It was clear from her expression that she was not striking orders or making definitive commands. She was truly offering a suggestion that she was open to Cicero correcting or changing.
Cicero did not much care if the girl wanted to congratulate herself on her observations or if she wanted to remain close-lipped about the things that she had not spotted. It was not, after all, her job to know such things. That was his speciality. All that he could ask of the young woman is that she let him do it, and did not bumble about sticking her nose in where it did not belong and making things a thousand times more difficult. But given the great difficulty most other human beings seemed to find in such an ask, he would not pin his hopes too high.
Sitting abruptly forward, he set the wine cup down and clasped his hands before him, giving a sharp nod at the suggestion the princess put forward.
“That would be minorly useful, yes” he confirmed, already mentally assigning the dull job of going through the records to one of the young scribes in his employ. If there were some unusual discrepancies, well… that would be interesting wouldn’t it? He steepled his fingers and rested his chin upon the tips, almost hoping that such a thing might come to fruition. And yes, credit where credit was due to the girl once again demonstrated an acumen that he could appreciate.
“If such a thing can be done, your highness, then please.”
Must remember his niceties. Elysia told him time and time again that his manner came off as rude and at least some of the time, it was not in Cicero’s intent for it to be so. He simply got frustrated in the wish-wash of words that held no meaning or purpose and preferred to cut to the chase. Blessed in that his current employers did not seem to hold such a trait against him, Cicero nevertheless tried in these little monthly meetings.
For a moment, there was a pause, a little too long to be anything but awkward as the Master Informer gazed at the princess with a fixed sort of smile on his face.
“ If that will be all then, allow me to get out of your hair so you might go on with your day” Cicero said, effectively dismissing himself, though he did allow a fraction of a pause for Princess Persephone to object before he rose to his feet.
“Do pass my best wishes on to his Majesty?”
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Cicero did not much care if the girl wanted to congratulate herself on her observations or if she wanted to remain close-lipped about the things that she had not spotted. It was not, after all, her job to know such things. That was his speciality. All that he could ask of the young woman is that she let him do it, and did not bumble about sticking her nose in where it did not belong and making things a thousand times more difficult. But given the great difficulty most other human beings seemed to find in such an ask, he would not pin his hopes too high.
Sitting abruptly forward, he set the wine cup down and clasped his hands before him, giving a sharp nod at the suggestion the princess put forward.
“That would be minorly useful, yes” he confirmed, already mentally assigning the dull job of going through the records to one of the young scribes in his employ. If there were some unusual discrepancies, well… that would be interesting wouldn’t it? He steepled his fingers and rested his chin upon the tips, almost hoping that such a thing might come to fruition. And yes, credit where credit was due to the girl once again demonstrated an acumen that he could appreciate.
“If such a thing can be done, your highness, then please.”
Must remember his niceties. Elysia told him time and time again that his manner came off as rude and at least some of the time, it was not in Cicero’s intent for it to be so. He simply got frustrated in the wish-wash of words that held no meaning or purpose and preferred to cut to the chase. Blessed in that his current employers did not seem to hold such a trait against him, Cicero nevertheless tried in these little monthly meetings.
For a moment, there was a pause, a little too long to be anything but awkward as the Master Informer gazed at the princess with a fixed sort of smile on his face.
“ If that will be all then, allow me to get out of your hair so you might go on with your day” Cicero said, effectively dismissing himself, though he did allow a fraction of a pause for Princess Persephone to object before he rose to his feet.
“Do pass my best wishes on to his Majesty?”
Cicero did not much care if the girl wanted to congratulate herself on her observations or if she wanted to remain close-lipped about the things that she had not spotted. It was not, after all, her job to know such things. That was his speciality. All that he could ask of the young woman is that she let him do it, and did not bumble about sticking her nose in where it did not belong and making things a thousand times more difficult. But given the great difficulty most other human beings seemed to find in such an ask, he would not pin his hopes too high.
Sitting abruptly forward, he set the wine cup down and clasped his hands before him, giving a sharp nod at the suggestion the princess put forward.
“That would be minorly useful, yes” he confirmed, already mentally assigning the dull job of going through the records to one of the young scribes in his employ. If there were some unusual discrepancies, well… that would be interesting wouldn’t it? He steepled his fingers and rested his chin upon the tips, almost hoping that such a thing might come to fruition. And yes, credit where credit was due to the girl once again demonstrated an acumen that he could appreciate.
“If such a thing can be done, your highness, then please.”
Must remember his niceties. Elysia told him time and time again that his manner came off as rude and at least some of the time, it was not in Cicero’s intent for it to be so. He simply got frustrated in the wish-wash of words that held no meaning or purpose and preferred to cut to the chase. Blessed in that his current employers did not seem to hold such a trait against him, Cicero nevertheless tried in these little monthly meetings.
For a moment, there was a pause, a little too long to be anything but awkward as the Master Informer gazed at the princess with a fixed sort of smile on his face.
“ If that will be all then, allow me to get out of your hair so you might go on with your day” Cicero said, effectively dismissing himself, though he did allow a fraction of a pause for Princess Persephone to object before he rose to his feet.