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There was many things to fear in this world. There were pirates that roamed the sea, murderers that could exist hidden in the shadows, and the wrath of the gods should a mortal offend them. Marietta, however, feared something much more simple. The anxiety often kept her up at night, having her wake up in a cold sweat. It was a terrible thing, something that tortured the girl to the very core. It twisted at her inside, strangling her with nerves.
Marietta was scared of conversation.
Small talk was chief among her fears. The socially inept girl would struggle to get words out that were not awkward in nature. It caused her great discomfort being forced into talking with someone she did not know well. It was not as if she couldn’t. Marietta knew how to be polite and ladylike. Though often her words were riddled with embarrassment, a blush forming upon her face. Her heart would pound through the conversation, and her throat tighten due to the anxiety it would bring. Marietta was very unlike her sisters. They were born with silver tongues where she was not. Giggles and smiles and smooth, intelligent words could often get them what they desired, and all three sisters had confidence like nothing Marietta had ever seen. It was no wonder the second eldest of the Antonis daughters hide behind them, allowing them to speak for her as to avoid any awkward affair.
This nervousness was exactly why Marietta loathed court. It was a dreadful affair that she hated having to be a part of. It was filled with falsities and forced politeness. Her smile was a polite facade, and her eyes often darted this way and that trying to locate the nearest exit to a conversation. She had no interest in listening to nobles brag about their latest acquisition, nor did she have any real interest in politics. Marietta had only two interests, art and music, and rarely when she spoke of these topics would someone listen aside from her two closest friends.
The only benefit that court had was gossip, something that Marietta could hear from the outskirts. Years of coming here had taught Marietta how to avoid being seen. Who would want to talk to the awkward Antonis girl anyhow? Marietta could walk along the edge, keeping an ear out to the juiciest of drama, and remain in the know without having to talk to anyone. Invisibility could be useful sometimes, and it served to past the time in what would otherwise be a dreadful affair.
But despite being ignored, the young girl was not always invisible. Marietta stood to the side, a goblet of wine in her hand, lost in her own mind when she saw something. In the distance, Princess Circenia looked to be approaching Marietta. Her grey eyes blinked and she looked behind her. There was nothing there but a harpist who was carefully plucking at her strings adding background noise for the large group of nobles. Maybe the princess had to yell at her about something.
Marietta looked back towards her. But was she looking at Marietta? Panic began to run through the girl. Princess Circenia was someone Marietta admired, but at a very, very far distance. She was beautiful. She was confident. She was charismatic. She was powerful. She had every trait that Marietta so wished she had, and so much more. But the woman was very intimidating. Anytime she had run into her while visiting Eli Marietta felt nervous. It was almost as if she could see through her and into her very thoughts. One glance from Circenia and the Princess knew everything that made a person weak, Marietta was sure of this. She could pick apart every flaw, every imperfection, every insecurity and Marietta had so many of those.
Marietta had to get away, but there was no time. The distance was almost closed. She took a good sip of her wine in an attempt to quell the bubbling stomach and quickly beating heart. What could she possibly want? Did Marietta do something? Her mind went back towards her latest interactions with Elias. They mostly spoke about art, and little else on top of that. Did she suspect something happened between the two? No, it couldn’t possibly be it! The two acted as siblings at times. Marietta cared for Elias as if he were her brother and nothing farther than that. Did Elias say something to his mother? Perhaps of their fight several years ago?
Oh gods, the panic was growing. Eyes flickered back and forth. There wasn’t enough time. She couldn’t just disappear into the crowd when she had already made eye contact with the Princess. It would be rude, and being rude to her was not something Marietta would ever dream of doing. There was no escape. So when the distance was finally closed, Marietta forced a smile onto her face. “Princess, you look quite lovely this evening,” she complimented, which was entirely true. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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There was many things to fear in this world. There were pirates that roamed the sea, murderers that could exist hidden in the shadows, and the wrath of the gods should a mortal offend them. Marietta, however, feared something much more simple. The anxiety often kept her up at night, having her wake up in a cold sweat. It was a terrible thing, something that tortured the girl to the very core. It twisted at her inside, strangling her with nerves.
Marietta was scared of conversation.
Small talk was chief among her fears. The socially inept girl would struggle to get words out that were not awkward in nature. It caused her great discomfort being forced into talking with someone she did not know well. It was not as if she couldn’t. Marietta knew how to be polite and ladylike. Though often her words were riddled with embarrassment, a blush forming upon her face. Her heart would pound through the conversation, and her throat tighten due to the anxiety it would bring. Marietta was very unlike her sisters. They were born with silver tongues where she was not. Giggles and smiles and smooth, intelligent words could often get them what they desired, and all three sisters had confidence like nothing Marietta had ever seen. It was no wonder the second eldest of the Antonis daughters hide behind them, allowing them to speak for her as to avoid any awkward affair.
This nervousness was exactly why Marietta loathed court. It was a dreadful affair that she hated having to be a part of. It was filled with falsities and forced politeness. Her smile was a polite facade, and her eyes often darted this way and that trying to locate the nearest exit to a conversation. She had no interest in listening to nobles brag about their latest acquisition, nor did she have any real interest in politics. Marietta had only two interests, art and music, and rarely when she spoke of these topics would someone listen aside from her two closest friends.
The only benefit that court had was gossip, something that Marietta could hear from the outskirts. Years of coming here had taught Marietta how to avoid being seen. Who would want to talk to the awkward Antonis girl anyhow? Marietta could walk along the edge, keeping an ear out to the juiciest of drama, and remain in the know without having to talk to anyone. Invisibility could be useful sometimes, and it served to past the time in what would otherwise be a dreadful affair.
But despite being ignored, the young girl was not always invisible. Marietta stood to the side, a goblet of wine in her hand, lost in her own mind when she saw something. In the distance, Princess Circenia looked to be approaching Marietta. Her grey eyes blinked and she looked behind her. There was nothing there but a harpist who was carefully plucking at her strings adding background noise for the large group of nobles. Maybe the princess had to yell at her about something.
Marietta looked back towards her. But was she looking at Marietta? Panic began to run through the girl. Princess Circenia was someone Marietta admired, but at a very, very far distance. She was beautiful. She was confident. She was charismatic. She was powerful. She had every trait that Marietta so wished she had, and so much more. But the woman was very intimidating. Anytime she had run into her while visiting Eli Marietta felt nervous. It was almost as if she could see through her and into her very thoughts. One glance from Circenia and the Princess knew everything that made a person weak, Marietta was sure of this. She could pick apart every flaw, every imperfection, every insecurity and Marietta had so many of those.
Marietta had to get away, but there was no time. The distance was almost closed. She took a good sip of her wine in an attempt to quell the bubbling stomach and quickly beating heart. What could she possibly want? Did Marietta do something? Her mind went back towards her latest interactions with Elias. They mostly spoke about art, and little else on top of that. Did she suspect something happened between the two? No, it couldn’t possibly be it! The two acted as siblings at times. Marietta cared for Elias as if he were her brother and nothing farther than that. Did Elias say something to his mother? Perhaps of their fight several years ago?
Oh gods, the panic was growing. Eyes flickered back and forth. There wasn’t enough time. She couldn’t just disappear into the crowd when she had already made eye contact with the Princess. It would be rude, and being rude to her was not something Marietta would ever dream of doing. There was no escape. So when the distance was finally closed, Marietta forced a smile onto her face. “Princess, you look quite lovely this evening,” she complimented, which was entirely true. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
There was many things to fear in this world. There were pirates that roamed the sea, murderers that could exist hidden in the shadows, and the wrath of the gods should a mortal offend them. Marietta, however, feared something much more simple. The anxiety often kept her up at night, having her wake up in a cold sweat. It was a terrible thing, something that tortured the girl to the very core. It twisted at her inside, strangling her with nerves.
Marietta was scared of conversation.
Small talk was chief among her fears. The socially inept girl would struggle to get words out that were not awkward in nature. It caused her great discomfort being forced into talking with someone she did not know well. It was not as if she couldn’t. Marietta knew how to be polite and ladylike. Though often her words were riddled with embarrassment, a blush forming upon her face. Her heart would pound through the conversation, and her throat tighten due to the anxiety it would bring. Marietta was very unlike her sisters. They were born with silver tongues where she was not. Giggles and smiles and smooth, intelligent words could often get them what they desired, and all three sisters had confidence like nothing Marietta had ever seen. It was no wonder the second eldest of the Antonis daughters hide behind them, allowing them to speak for her as to avoid any awkward affair.
This nervousness was exactly why Marietta loathed court. It was a dreadful affair that she hated having to be a part of. It was filled with falsities and forced politeness. Her smile was a polite facade, and her eyes often darted this way and that trying to locate the nearest exit to a conversation. She had no interest in listening to nobles brag about their latest acquisition, nor did she have any real interest in politics. Marietta had only two interests, art and music, and rarely when she spoke of these topics would someone listen aside from her two closest friends.
The only benefit that court had was gossip, something that Marietta could hear from the outskirts. Years of coming here had taught Marietta how to avoid being seen. Who would want to talk to the awkward Antonis girl anyhow? Marietta could walk along the edge, keeping an ear out to the juiciest of drama, and remain in the know without having to talk to anyone. Invisibility could be useful sometimes, and it served to past the time in what would otherwise be a dreadful affair.
But despite being ignored, the young girl was not always invisible. Marietta stood to the side, a goblet of wine in her hand, lost in her own mind when she saw something. In the distance, Princess Circenia looked to be approaching Marietta. Her grey eyes blinked and she looked behind her. There was nothing there but a harpist who was carefully plucking at her strings adding background noise for the large group of nobles. Maybe the princess had to yell at her about something.
Marietta looked back towards her. But was she looking at Marietta? Panic began to run through the girl. Princess Circenia was someone Marietta admired, but at a very, very far distance. She was beautiful. She was confident. She was charismatic. She was powerful. She had every trait that Marietta so wished she had, and so much more. But the woman was very intimidating. Anytime she had run into her while visiting Eli Marietta felt nervous. It was almost as if she could see through her and into her very thoughts. One glance from Circenia and the Princess knew everything that made a person weak, Marietta was sure of this. She could pick apart every flaw, every imperfection, every insecurity and Marietta had so many of those.
Marietta had to get away, but there was no time. The distance was almost closed. She took a good sip of her wine in an attempt to quell the bubbling stomach and quickly beating heart. What could she possibly want? Did Marietta do something? Her mind went back towards her latest interactions with Elias. They mostly spoke about art, and little else on top of that. Did she suspect something happened between the two? No, it couldn’t possibly be it! The two acted as siblings at times. Marietta cared for Elias as if he were her brother and nothing farther than that. Did Elias say something to his mother? Perhaps of their fight several years ago?
Oh gods, the panic was growing. Eyes flickered back and forth. There wasn’t enough time. She couldn’t just disappear into the crowd when she had already made eye contact with the Princess. It would be rude, and being rude to her was not something Marietta would ever dream of doing. There was no escape. So when the distance was finally closed, Marietta forced a smile onto her face. “Princess, you look quite lovely this evening,” she complimented, which was entirely true. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Circenia of Stravos was all smiles and charm as she turned away from her sister, the smile dropping from her face as soon as Sera was out of her sight. The woman was truly insufferable—even as children, the siblings never got along well. She was fully convinced it had everything to do with her closeness to Minas, a closeness of which Sera had always been resentful. But Circenia was nothing if not a master actress; if the occasion called for her to get along with her sister, she would do it and appear happy in the effort. All things considered, Sera wasn’t even in the worst person in the room tonight.
The princess thrived in Court, ruled over it effortlessly as if she were the Queen herself. After the death of his wife, Minas often left such events to her, inflating her sense of self-worth to astronomical levels. Circenia was well aware of her influence, and she was not afraid to flaunt it. With a son likely to inherit her brother’s throne, she was nearly smug with her power. Just as she’d always known it would, the world around her was aligning to her ambitions, and she couldn’t be more pleased.
However, now that Court had adjourned, there were other matters Circenia meant to attend to. And one of those matters was the commissioning of a family portrait, an idea she’d been throwing around for the past several months. The Antonis girl—what was her name? Mariella? Mariana? No, Marietta, that’s right—was proving herself a talented artist, and given her closeness to her son, Circenia was sure she’d take on the project without a second thought. After all, what greater honor could there be for a young aspiring artist?
Spotting the girl across the room, the princess pasted another smile on her face, carefully maintaining her amiable Court façade. The closer she came, the clearer it became how nervous Marietta was, and she almost laughed. Was she truly such an imposing presence that merely the sight of her would cause such distress? She was nearly flattered.
“Lady Marietta,” she hailed the young woman with a polite inclination of her head, both a greeting and an acknowledgement of her praise. “A pleasure to see you here tonight. As I recall, it shouldn’t be too much longer until young Hebe is able to join us in Court, as well?”
These were nothing more than niceties, steps in the delicate Court dance of cordial give and take. Of course, she already knew the answer, but one did not engage in conversation without some sort of reciprocation. But, as ever, Circenia was a direct woman, and she did not waste much more time in getting to her purpose.
“I’m here with a proposition for you, my lady,” the princess went on, snagging a glass of wine from a passing slave’s tray. Taking a sip, she elaborated, “I am looking to commission a portrait of my family, and my son has shown me some of your work. I must admit I am impressed, and I am sure you know I am not one to lavish such praise lightly.” In truth, Circenia was more likely to criticize than offer accolades, and to hear her compliment someone so candidly was a rare occurrence. “Would you be interested in taking it on? You will be well compensated for your time.”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Circenia of Stravos was all smiles and charm as she turned away from her sister, the smile dropping from her face as soon as Sera was out of her sight. The woman was truly insufferable—even as children, the siblings never got along well. She was fully convinced it had everything to do with her closeness to Minas, a closeness of which Sera had always been resentful. But Circenia was nothing if not a master actress; if the occasion called for her to get along with her sister, she would do it and appear happy in the effort. All things considered, Sera wasn’t even in the worst person in the room tonight.
The princess thrived in Court, ruled over it effortlessly as if she were the Queen herself. After the death of his wife, Minas often left such events to her, inflating her sense of self-worth to astronomical levels. Circenia was well aware of her influence, and she was not afraid to flaunt it. With a son likely to inherit her brother’s throne, she was nearly smug with her power. Just as she’d always known it would, the world around her was aligning to her ambitions, and she couldn’t be more pleased.
However, now that Court had adjourned, there were other matters Circenia meant to attend to. And one of those matters was the commissioning of a family portrait, an idea she’d been throwing around for the past several months. The Antonis girl—what was her name? Mariella? Mariana? No, Marietta, that’s right—was proving herself a talented artist, and given her closeness to her son, Circenia was sure she’d take on the project without a second thought. After all, what greater honor could there be for a young aspiring artist?
Spotting the girl across the room, the princess pasted another smile on her face, carefully maintaining her amiable Court façade. The closer she came, the clearer it became how nervous Marietta was, and she almost laughed. Was she truly such an imposing presence that merely the sight of her would cause such distress? She was nearly flattered.
“Lady Marietta,” she hailed the young woman with a polite inclination of her head, both a greeting and an acknowledgement of her praise. “A pleasure to see you here tonight. As I recall, it shouldn’t be too much longer until young Hebe is able to join us in Court, as well?”
These were nothing more than niceties, steps in the delicate Court dance of cordial give and take. Of course, she already knew the answer, but one did not engage in conversation without some sort of reciprocation. But, as ever, Circenia was a direct woman, and she did not waste much more time in getting to her purpose.
“I’m here with a proposition for you, my lady,” the princess went on, snagging a glass of wine from a passing slave’s tray. Taking a sip, she elaborated, “I am looking to commission a portrait of my family, and my son has shown me some of your work. I must admit I am impressed, and I am sure you know I am not one to lavish such praise lightly.” In truth, Circenia was more likely to criticize than offer accolades, and to hear her compliment someone so candidly was a rare occurrence. “Would you be interested in taking it on? You will be well compensated for your time.”
Circenia of Stravos was all smiles and charm as she turned away from her sister, the smile dropping from her face as soon as Sera was out of her sight. The woman was truly insufferable—even as children, the siblings never got along well. She was fully convinced it had everything to do with her closeness to Minas, a closeness of which Sera had always been resentful. But Circenia was nothing if not a master actress; if the occasion called for her to get along with her sister, she would do it and appear happy in the effort. All things considered, Sera wasn’t even in the worst person in the room tonight.
The princess thrived in Court, ruled over it effortlessly as if she were the Queen herself. After the death of his wife, Minas often left such events to her, inflating her sense of self-worth to astronomical levels. Circenia was well aware of her influence, and she was not afraid to flaunt it. With a son likely to inherit her brother’s throne, she was nearly smug with her power. Just as she’d always known it would, the world around her was aligning to her ambitions, and she couldn’t be more pleased.
However, now that Court had adjourned, there were other matters Circenia meant to attend to. And one of those matters was the commissioning of a family portrait, an idea she’d been throwing around for the past several months. The Antonis girl—what was her name? Mariella? Mariana? No, Marietta, that’s right—was proving herself a talented artist, and given her closeness to her son, Circenia was sure she’d take on the project without a second thought. After all, what greater honor could there be for a young aspiring artist?
Spotting the girl across the room, the princess pasted another smile on her face, carefully maintaining her amiable Court façade. The closer she came, the clearer it became how nervous Marietta was, and she almost laughed. Was she truly such an imposing presence that merely the sight of her would cause such distress? She was nearly flattered.
“Lady Marietta,” she hailed the young woman with a polite inclination of her head, both a greeting and an acknowledgement of her praise. “A pleasure to see you here tonight. As I recall, it shouldn’t be too much longer until young Hebe is able to join us in Court, as well?”
These were nothing more than niceties, steps in the delicate Court dance of cordial give and take. Of course, she already knew the answer, but one did not engage in conversation without some sort of reciprocation. But, as ever, Circenia was a direct woman, and she did not waste much more time in getting to her purpose.
“I’m here with a proposition for you, my lady,” the princess went on, snagging a glass of wine from a passing slave’s tray. Taking a sip, she elaborated, “I am looking to commission a portrait of my family, and my son has shown me some of your work. I must admit I am impressed, and I am sure you know I am not one to lavish such praise lightly.” In truth, Circenia was more likely to criticize than offer accolades, and to hear her compliment someone so candidly was a rare occurrence. “Would you be interested in taking it on? You will be well compensated for your time.”
No amount of wine would prepare Marietta for this conversation. She took a nervous sip as the Princess first spoke to her, though she could hardly concentrate at first. She was doing her best to control her body’s natural urge to blush, or gods forbid, hiccup. Marietta was a nervous creature, but Princess Circenia had the power to make even the bravest of men shiver, she was sure. Not that the Princess was mean, or bad, or cruel, or anything negative. She just… simply had an aura that equal parts left Marietta in awe and completely intimidated.
“O-Oh Hebe? Yes, she’s looking forward to it, bless her heart. Another year at least. Gods I remember when she was throwing tantrums because she didn’t get to see her sisters in their pretty chitons before we left, and now she’s almost ready to join us.” Was this all? All she had to do was small talk? Marietta loathed small talk, but she could at the very least do that before finding the quickest and most polite out to what would most likely be a dreadful conversation.
She took a sip of wine, and choked on the Princess’s next words. She wanted to commission Marietta to paint a portrait of her family? She wasn’t even aware that she had seen Marietta’s paintings. She had given a few to Elias. One of her very favorite chitons was from a commission when he had her paint a rather beautifully rendered, but awfully mean, portrait of Princess Persephone a few years prior. Marietta was sure it was sent to Persephone with a rather cheeky letter, though she never cared to know the details. She was just sure never to sign it, and if anyone asked her about it she would deny it vehemently. She did feel rather fabulous when she went to court next, one of the few times she truly felt confident.
“Excuse me,” Marietta could no longer hold back the blush. She tilted her head the other way as she coughed. The young Lady’s hand began to rapidly fan her face. “I’m sorry, you want me to paint a portrait of your family? Did I hear correctly?” Marietta stared in near disbelief. And she got… complimented by the Princess?
This was a wonderful and terrifying opportunity. To paint the Stravos family would be a job that artists around the world would kill for an opportunity to do. Marietta was sure sacrifices must have been made for Apollo just for the chance to paint one royal, let alone a family of them, which included the future King of Athenia once her father abdicated the throne. But with the chance of success came a chance of failure. What would be said if she failed to produce to the quality that the Princess expects? It would be embarrassing enough to fail in front of her, but would word get around that she was a talentless girl with no use to anyone and the inability to get anything right? She was already the weakest link of her family, and if her art suffered then she would absolutely be nothing. It would be better to just wander into the woods where no one would ever find her, not that anyone would look.
No, no those thoughts were far too dark. Marietta was confident in only two things: Art and Music. The way she played her harp was lovely and could stir emotion in those who might otherwise have none, and the scenes she paints portray deep message and stirs memory or thoughts that one may otherwise never had considered. Marietta was many things. She was shy, she was cowardly, she was nervous… but she was at her core an artist.
Apollo, should your hand be in this, I thank you. I will not fail in this mission and paint a portrait worthy of your gaze. In this you have my word.
“I… Absolutely, Princess Circenia.” Marietta recomposed herself. “A portrait? It would… be an honor. Truly.”
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No amount of wine would prepare Marietta for this conversation. She took a nervous sip as the Princess first spoke to her, though she could hardly concentrate at first. She was doing her best to control her body’s natural urge to blush, or gods forbid, hiccup. Marietta was a nervous creature, but Princess Circenia had the power to make even the bravest of men shiver, she was sure. Not that the Princess was mean, or bad, or cruel, or anything negative. She just… simply had an aura that equal parts left Marietta in awe and completely intimidated.
“O-Oh Hebe? Yes, she’s looking forward to it, bless her heart. Another year at least. Gods I remember when she was throwing tantrums because she didn’t get to see her sisters in their pretty chitons before we left, and now she’s almost ready to join us.” Was this all? All she had to do was small talk? Marietta loathed small talk, but she could at the very least do that before finding the quickest and most polite out to what would most likely be a dreadful conversation.
She took a sip of wine, and choked on the Princess’s next words. She wanted to commission Marietta to paint a portrait of her family? She wasn’t even aware that she had seen Marietta’s paintings. She had given a few to Elias. One of her very favorite chitons was from a commission when he had her paint a rather beautifully rendered, but awfully mean, portrait of Princess Persephone a few years prior. Marietta was sure it was sent to Persephone with a rather cheeky letter, though she never cared to know the details. She was just sure never to sign it, and if anyone asked her about it she would deny it vehemently. She did feel rather fabulous when she went to court next, one of the few times she truly felt confident.
“Excuse me,” Marietta could no longer hold back the blush. She tilted her head the other way as she coughed. The young Lady’s hand began to rapidly fan her face. “I’m sorry, you want me to paint a portrait of your family? Did I hear correctly?” Marietta stared in near disbelief. And she got… complimented by the Princess?
This was a wonderful and terrifying opportunity. To paint the Stravos family would be a job that artists around the world would kill for an opportunity to do. Marietta was sure sacrifices must have been made for Apollo just for the chance to paint one royal, let alone a family of them, which included the future King of Athenia once her father abdicated the throne. But with the chance of success came a chance of failure. What would be said if she failed to produce to the quality that the Princess expects? It would be embarrassing enough to fail in front of her, but would word get around that she was a talentless girl with no use to anyone and the inability to get anything right? She was already the weakest link of her family, and if her art suffered then she would absolutely be nothing. It would be better to just wander into the woods where no one would ever find her, not that anyone would look.
No, no those thoughts were far too dark. Marietta was confident in only two things: Art and Music. The way she played her harp was lovely and could stir emotion in those who might otherwise have none, and the scenes she paints portray deep message and stirs memory or thoughts that one may otherwise never had considered. Marietta was many things. She was shy, she was cowardly, she was nervous… but she was at her core an artist.
Apollo, should your hand be in this, I thank you. I will not fail in this mission and paint a portrait worthy of your gaze. In this you have my word.
“I… Absolutely, Princess Circenia.” Marietta recomposed herself. “A portrait? It would… be an honor. Truly.”
No amount of wine would prepare Marietta for this conversation. She took a nervous sip as the Princess first spoke to her, though she could hardly concentrate at first. She was doing her best to control her body’s natural urge to blush, or gods forbid, hiccup. Marietta was a nervous creature, but Princess Circenia had the power to make even the bravest of men shiver, she was sure. Not that the Princess was mean, or bad, or cruel, or anything negative. She just… simply had an aura that equal parts left Marietta in awe and completely intimidated.
“O-Oh Hebe? Yes, she’s looking forward to it, bless her heart. Another year at least. Gods I remember when she was throwing tantrums because she didn’t get to see her sisters in their pretty chitons before we left, and now she’s almost ready to join us.” Was this all? All she had to do was small talk? Marietta loathed small talk, but she could at the very least do that before finding the quickest and most polite out to what would most likely be a dreadful conversation.
She took a sip of wine, and choked on the Princess’s next words. She wanted to commission Marietta to paint a portrait of her family? She wasn’t even aware that she had seen Marietta’s paintings. She had given a few to Elias. One of her very favorite chitons was from a commission when he had her paint a rather beautifully rendered, but awfully mean, portrait of Princess Persephone a few years prior. Marietta was sure it was sent to Persephone with a rather cheeky letter, though she never cared to know the details. She was just sure never to sign it, and if anyone asked her about it she would deny it vehemently. She did feel rather fabulous when she went to court next, one of the few times she truly felt confident.
“Excuse me,” Marietta could no longer hold back the blush. She tilted her head the other way as she coughed. The young Lady’s hand began to rapidly fan her face. “I’m sorry, you want me to paint a portrait of your family? Did I hear correctly?” Marietta stared in near disbelief. And she got… complimented by the Princess?
This was a wonderful and terrifying opportunity. To paint the Stravos family would be a job that artists around the world would kill for an opportunity to do. Marietta was sure sacrifices must have been made for Apollo just for the chance to paint one royal, let alone a family of them, which included the future King of Athenia once her father abdicated the throne. But with the chance of success came a chance of failure. What would be said if she failed to produce to the quality that the Princess expects? It would be embarrassing enough to fail in front of her, but would word get around that she was a talentless girl with no use to anyone and the inability to get anything right? She was already the weakest link of her family, and if her art suffered then she would absolutely be nothing. It would be better to just wander into the woods where no one would ever find her, not that anyone would look.
No, no those thoughts were far too dark. Marietta was confident in only two things: Art and Music. The way she played her harp was lovely and could stir emotion in those who might otherwise have none, and the scenes she paints portray deep message and stirs memory or thoughts that one may otherwise never had considered. Marietta was many things. She was shy, she was cowardly, she was nervous… but she was at her core an artist.
Apollo, should your hand be in this, I thank you. I will not fail in this mission and paint a portrait worthy of your gaze. In this you have my word.
“I… Absolutely, Princess Circenia.” Marietta recomposed herself. “A portrait? It would… be an honor. Truly.”
Circenia held back a laugh at the girl’s stammered surprise, hiding it with a sip of her wine. Was it really so shocking that she should request a painting from her? She was a painter, was she not? Not to mention, the princess would much rather have their portrait done by a noblewoman who she was at least passably familiar with, rather than some commoner she didn’t even know. Even if the noblewoman was an Antonis.
Though, she supposed, she ought to hold the family in higher regard. It was a fairly well-known fact by now that Alehandros meant to abdicate the throne, which left her son directly in line to take it. Perhaps she should be thanking them instead of inwardly putting them down, but she supposed commissioning his daughter for their portrait was thanks enough. As Marietta said herself, it was a great honor, and Circenia thought herself gracious to bestow it.
“Excellent,” she responded with a smile a touch more genuine than before. “I am sure Elias will be pleased with your agreeance, as well. I know he has always been fond of you.” Why that was, she didn’t really know—the girl was a mousey thing with looks that swayed more toward plain and a clear pile of insecurities. What her son saw in the girl was beyond her, but overall, she trusted his judgment. Obviously, she couldn’t be so bad if she had stuck with Elias for all this time. Circenia tolerated her for that alone.
“When will you be able to start?” she asked politely as she finished her glass of wine, handing it off to a slave who hastened to refill it. “I am sure I can gather my family together by the end of the week, if that suits you. I do not know what other commissions you might be working on.”
Shaky hands made to hand the princess her refilled wine, but a sudden slip turned obeisance into disaster. The glass toppling from clumsy fingers splashed the front of her golden chiton, staining the expensive fabric a sanguine red. Circenia’s gasp was both of shock and horror, jumping back in disgust. “Clumsy oaf!” she snapped at the terrified slave, who sank down to his knees before her. “This gown cost more than what they paid for you! Do you realize what you’ve done?!”
“Ap-p-pologies, y-y-your H-h-highness,” the flushed slave stuttered, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the ground. The princess’s temper was well-renowned, and fear of it was what made his hands shake in the first place. Gods, if he had just taken a turn on the other side of the room instead…
“Apologies will not fix what you have done,” was her sharp retort, another slave rushing over to dab at her chiton with drying cloths. By now, they had drawn the attention of half the room, and Circenia was nearly mad enough to spit. Mood thoroughly soured, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself when she remembered she was not alone.
“Sorry, my lady. Apparently they do not train their palati slaves well in the art of not spilling wine.” This last comment was made through clenched teeth, hissed at the slave on the ground. One of his fellows came to gather him up, ushering him away from the princess’s wrath. “As I was asking before… when will you be available?”
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Circenia held back a laugh at the girl’s stammered surprise, hiding it with a sip of her wine. Was it really so shocking that she should request a painting from her? She was a painter, was she not? Not to mention, the princess would much rather have their portrait done by a noblewoman who she was at least passably familiar with, rather than some commoner she didn’t even know. Even if the noblewoman was an Antonis.
Though, she supposed, she ought to hold the family in higher regard. It was a fairly well-known fact by now that Alehandros meant to abdicate the throne, which left her son directly in line to take it. Perhaps she should be thanking them instead of inwardly putting them down, but she supposed commissioning his daughter for their portrait was thanks enough. As Marietta said herself, it was a great honor, and Circenia thought herself gracious to bestow it.
“Excellent,” she responded with a smile a touch more genuine than before. “I am sure Elias will be pleased with your agreeance, as well. I know he has always been fond of you.” Why that was, she didn’t really know—the girl was a mousey thing with looks that swayed more toward plain and a clear pile of insecurities. What her son saw in the girl was beyond her, but overall, she trusted his judgment. Obviously, she couldn’t be so bad if she had stuck with Elias for all this time. Circenia tolerated her for that alone.
“When will you be able to start?” she asked politely as she finished her glass of wine, handing it off to a slave who hastened to refill it. “I am sure I can gather my family together by the end of the week, if that suits you. I do not know what other commissions you might be working on.”
Shaky hands made to hand the princess her refilled wine, but a sudden slip turned obeisance into disaster. The glass toppling from clumsy fingers splashed the front of her golden chiton, staining the expensive fabric a sanguine red. Circenia’s gasp was both of shock and horror, jumping back in disgust. “Clumsy oaf!” she snapped at the terrified slave, who sank down to his knees before her. “This gown cost more than what they paid for you! Do you realize what you’ve done?!”
“Ap-p-pologies, y-y-your H-h-highness,” the flushed slave stuttered, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the ground. The princess’s temper was well-renowned, and fear of it was what made his hands shake in the first place. Gods, if he had just taken a turn on the other side of the room instead…
“Apologies will not fix what you have done,” was her sharp retort, another slave rushing over to dab at her chiton with drying cloths. By now, they had drawn the attention of half the room, and Circenia was nearly mad enough to spit. Mood thoroughly soured, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself when she remembered she was not alone.
“Sorry, my lady. Apparently they do not train their palati slaves well in the art of not spilling wine.” This last comment was made through clenched teeth, hissed at the slave on the ground. One of his fellows came to gather him up, ushering him away from the princess’s wrath. “As I was asking before… when will you be available?”
Circenia held back a laugh at the girl’s stammered surprise, hiding it with a sip of her wine. Was it really so shocking that she should request a painting from her? She was a painter, was she not? Not to mention, the princess would much rather have their portrait done by a noblewoman who she was at least passably familiar with, rather than some commoner she didn’t even know. Even if the noblewoman was an Antonis.
Though, she supposed, she ought to hold the family in higher regard. It was a fairly well-known fact by now that Alehandros meant to abdicate the throne, which left her son directly in line to take it. Perhaps she should be thanking them instead of inwardly putting them down, but she supposed commissioning his daughter for their portrait was thanks enough. As Marietta said herself, it was a great honor, and Circenia thought herself gracious to bestow it.
“Excellent,” she responded with a smile a touch more genuine than before. “I am sure Elias will be pleased with your agreeance, as well. I know he has always been fond of you.” Why that was, she didn’t really know—the girl was a mousey thing with looks that swayed more toward plain and a clear pile of insecurities. What her son saw in the girl was beyond her, but overall, she trusted his judgment. Obviously, she couldn’t be so bad if she had stuck with Elias for all this time. Circenia tolerated her for that alone.
“When will you be able to start?” she asked politely as she finished her glass of wine, handing it off to a slave who hastened to refill it. “I am sure I can gather my family together by the end of the week, if that suits you. I do not know what other commissions you might be working on.”
Shaky hands made to hand the princess her refilled wine, but a sudden slip turned obeisance into disaster. The glass toppling from clumsy fingers splashed the front of her golden chiton, staining the expensive fabric a sanguine red. Circenia’s gasp was both of shock and horror, jumping back in disgust. “Clumsy oaf!” she snapped at the terrified slave, who sank down to his knees before her. “This gown cost more than what they paid for you! Do you realize what you’ve done?!”
“Ap-p-pologies, y-y-your H-h-highness,” the flushed slave stuttered, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the ground. The princess’s temper was well-renowned, and fear of it was what made his hands shake in the first place. Gods, if he had just taken a turn on the other side of the room instead…
“Apologies will not fix what you have done,” was her sharp retort, another slave rushing over to dab at her chiton with drying cloths. By now, they had drawn the attention of half the room, and Circenia was nearly mad enough to spit. Mood thoroughly soured, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself when she remembered she was not alone.
“Sorry, my lady. Apparently they do not train their palati slaves well in the art of not spilling wine.” This last comment was made through clenched teeth, hissed at the slave on the ground. One of his fellows came to gather him up, ushering him away from the princess’s wrath. “As I was asking before… when will you be available?”
Marietta took it back. This was not a blessing, this was a curse. Apollo was sending her a test not of her ability to paint, but her ability to survive. What was she thinking saying yes to Princess Circenia. Marietta was terrified of her. And evidently she wasn’t the only one judging by the display before her. Never in a million would Marietta ever have someone get down to their knees begging for forgiveness. Slave or not, she wouldn’t demand that of anyone. Not that… the Princess demanded it. But it was all that person really could do.
How am I going to get out of this? Marietta thought desperately to herself. Her eyes swept the room. Maybe Eli would see the pair talking and save her from his mother and inform her this was a terrible idea. What would happen if Marietta’s painting was not to the Princess’s liking? Would Marietta too have to throw away her shame and grovel at her knees like some poor?
There was no way she could deny the Princess. She asked her to do this, and Marietta didn’t necessarily want to see what would happen if she said nevermind. Her stare alone could melt Marietta where she stood. The more she stood here, the more she panicked. She should have run when she had the chance. She could have pretended not to have noticed Circenia and booked it out of the room.
Marietta bit her lip, returning her gaze back to the powerful woman before her. “As honored as I am by your offer Princess I… I fear that I am still a novice at painting. I… could not capture the… extravagance that is the Stravos family.” This was polite, right? “I do know of a painter my family commissioned from Taengea to create a portrait that hangs in my father’s study. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen it, but it is quite lovely. While I am flattered beyond measure by your kind words, I simply do not have… confidence in my abilities.” On the contrary, Marietta knew whatever she would have produced would be a masterpiece, at least in her eye. But she did not know Circenia’s taste, and should it be less than perfection… Marietta was not ready for those consequences.
What if she made me redo it? Just the thought brought goosebumps to her skin. This was not just a portrait of a single person, but the entire family of which Marietta was only close with one of them. And of everyone in the Kingdom, Lord Keikelius and Princess Circenia was who Marietta feared most. Even if she had prior exposure to the pair, seeing them when she visited Elias and at his plays, Marietta never grew comfortable with them. And Chara too was… a person she would rather avoid. Danae was fine, Marietta had no qualms with her. But the eldest in the family were… less than desired.
“I appreciate the privilege,” Marietta gave her a courtly smile. “But you deserve no less than perfection.”
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Marietta took it back. This was not a blessing, this was a curse. Apollo was sending her a test not of her ability to paint, but her ability to survive. What was she thinking saying yes to Princess Circenia. Marietta was terrified of her. And evidently she wasn’t the only one judging by the display before her. Never in a million would Marietta ever have someone get down to their knees begging for forgiveness. Slave or not, she wouldn’t demand that of anyone. Not that… the Princess demanded it. But it was all that person really could do.
How am I going to get out of this? Marietta thought desperately to herself. Her eyes swept the room. Maybe Eli would see the pair talking and save her from his mother and inform her this was a terrible idea. What would happen if Marietta’s painting was not to the Princess’s liking? Would Marietta too have to throw away her shame and grovel at her knees like some poor?
There was no way she could deny the Princess. She asked her to do this, and Marietta didn’t necessarily want to see what would happen if she said nevermind. Her stare alone could melt Marietta where she stood. The more she stood here, the more she panicked. She should have run when she had the chance. She could have pretended not to have noticed Circenia and booked it out of the room.
Marietta bit her lip, returning her gaze back to the powerful woman before her. “As honored as I am by your offer Princess I… I fear that I am still a novice at painting. I… could not capture the… extravagance that is the Stravos family.” This was polite, right? “I do know of a painter my family commissioned from Taengea to create a portrait that hangs in my father’s study. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen it, but it is quite lovely. While I am flattered beyond measure by your kind words, I simply do not have… confidence in my abilities.” On the contrary, Marietta knew whatever she would have produced would be a masterpiece, at least in her eye. But she did not know Circenia’s taste, and should it be less than perfection… Marietta was not ready for those consequences.
What if she made me redo it? Just the thought brought goosebumps to her skin. This was not just a portrait of a single person, but the entire family of which Marietta was only close with one of them. And of everyone in the Kingdom, Lord Keikelius and Princess Circenia was who Marietta feared most. Even if she had prior exposure to the pair, seeing them when she visited Elias and at his plays, Marietta never grew comfortable with them. And Chara too was… a person she would rather avoid. Danae was fine, Marietta had no qualms with her. But the eldest in the family were… less than desired.
“I appreciate the privilege,” Marietta gave her a courtly smile. “But you deserve no less than perfection.”
Marietta took it back. This was not a blessing, this was a curse. Apollo was sending her a test not of her ability to paint, but her ability to survive. What was she thinking saying yes to Princess Circenia. Marietta was terrified of her. And evidently she wasn’t the only one judging by the display before her. Never in a million would Marietta ever have someone get down to their knees begging for forgiveness. Slave or not, she wouldn’t demand that of anyone. Not that… the Princess demanded it. But it was all that person really could do.
How am I going to get out of this? Marietta thought desperately to herself. Her eyes swept the room. Maybe Eli would see the pair talking and save her from his mother and inform her this was a terrible idea. What would happen if Marietta’s painting was not to the Princess’s liking? Would Marietta too have to throw away her shame and grovel at her knees like some poor?
There was no way she could deny the Princess. She asked her to do this, and Marietta didn’t necessarily want to see what would happen if she said nevermind. Her stare alone could melt Marietta where she stood. The more she stood here, the more she panicked. She should have run when she had the chance. She could have pretended not to have noticed Circenia and booked it out of the room.
Marietta bit her lip, returning her gaze back to the powerful woman before her. “As honored as I am by your offer Princess I… I fear that I am still a novice at painting. I… could not capture the… extravagance that is the Stravos family.” This was polite, right? “I do know of a painter my family commissioned from Taengea to create a portrait that hangs in my father’s study. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen it, but it is quite lovely. While I am flattered beyond measure by your kind words, I simply do not have… confidence in my abilities.” On the contrary, Marietta knew whatever she would have produced would be a masterpiece, at least in her eye. But she did not know Circenia’s taste, and should it be less than perfection… Marietta was not ready for those consequences.
What if she made me redo it? Just the thought brought goosebumps to her skin. This was not just a portrait of a single person, but the entire family of which Marietta was only close with one of them. And of everyone in the Kingdom, Lord Keikelius and Princess Circenia was who Marietta feared most. Even if she had prior exposure to the pair, seeing them when she visited Elias and at his plays, Marietta never grew comfortable with them. And Chara too was… a person she would rather avoid. Danae was fine, Marietta had no qualms with her. But the eldest in the family were… less than desired.
“I appreciate the privilege,” Marietta gave her a courtly smile. “But you deserve no less than perfection.”
Circenia’s ire began to cool to… something else when Marietta spoke, valiantly attempting to hide her fear behind a seemingly polite retraction of her previous acceptance. Her brow rose in surprise, turning to lock the girl in her cold gaze. Why this sudden change of heart?
Glancing briefly toward the slave’s hasty retreat, she nearly laughed. Was it that? The princess looked back at Marietta. Because of the way she treated a slave? Clearly, the man was worthless if he couldn’t even handle the very simple job he was given, and she was sympathizing with him? Curious. Did the girl have no sense of her own worth? Her name alone…
“Are you refusing me, Lady Marietta?” Circenia’s voice was polite, but nearly impossible to interpret. Was she offended? Did she even care? The Stravos matriarch was a veritable master of concealing her own emotions, a fact she attributed to her almost eerie ability to ascertain the emotions of others. It was this ability that informed her of Marietta’s sudden discomfort—though she tried to disguise it, her attempts were clumsy at best. The way she glanced around the room like a cornered animal, the very abrupt about face of her feelings on the family portrait… What a shame.
“Why, you seemed so eager only moments ago.” Her gaze hardly left Marietta’s for a moment, though her face stayed the same—like sculpted stone. “Do you not think it is rather rude to take back something you have already agreed to? Especially so quickly.” Eyes glinting dangerously, she went on, “I do not particularly care for rudeness, my lady. I would not have sought to commission you if I did not think you up to the task. As you said yourself, I accept nothing less than perfection. Therefore, I fear I must take your sudden refusal as an insult to my taste. If not an insult to my taste, then surely it is only a foolish modesty that would cause such a hasty reversal."
She paused for a moment, considering the girl in front of her, curious in a detached sort of way. In spite of her words being intended as the barbs they were, she did wonder at the girl’s lack of confidence. Born to her status with talents Circenia begrudgingly had to admit were genuine, what was it that made her so insecure? So unsure of herself?
“A word of advice, my lady, as I will choose to believe for now that your reaction is indeed modesty, rather than an intent to insult me. It is honestly better for all us that I believe that, wouldn’t you agree?” The princess gave Marietta a significant look that urged her not to argue before she went on, “Do not ever let modesty or false feelings of inferiority get in your way. You will never get anywhere in life if you do not acknowledge the advantages you have been given and exploit them to your own end. It does not matter if you feel like you are not good enough. Shout at the world your perfection, and eventually they will believe you.”
A tight smirk sat for a moment on Circenia’s lips. “Now, I will ask you one more time. Will you paint the portrait of my family? Choose your answer wisely, Lady Marietta, for I will not ask again.”
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Circenia’s ire began to cool to… something else when Marietta spoke, valiantly attempting to hide her fear behind a seemingly polite retraction of her previous acceptance. Her brow rose in surprise, turning to lock the girl in her cold gaze. Why this sudden change of heart?
Glancing briefly toward the slave’s hasty retreat, she nearly laughed. Was it that? The princess looked back at Marietta. Because of the way she treated a slave? Clearly, the man was worthless if he couldn’t even handle the very simple job he was given, and she was sympathizing with him? Curious. Did the girl have no sense of her own worth? Her name alone…
“Are you refusing me, Lady Marietta?” Circenia’s voice was polite, but nearly impossible to interpret. Was she offended? Did she even care? The Stravos matriarch was a veritable master of concealing her own emotions, a fact she attributed to her almost eerie ability to ascertain the emotions of others. It was this ability that informed her of Marietta’s sudden discomfort—though she tried to disguise it, her attempts were clumsy at best. The way she glanced around the room like a cornered animal, the very abrupt about face of her feelings on the family portrait… What a shame.
“Why, you seemed so eager only moments ago.” Her gaze hardly left Marietta’s for a moment, though her face stayed the same—like sculpted stone. “Do you not think it is rather rude to take back something you have already agreed to? Especially so quickly.” Eyes glinting dangerously, she went on, “I do not particularly care for rudeness, my lady. I would not have sought to commission you if I did not think you up to the task. As you said yourself, I accept nothing less than perfection. Therefore, I fear I must take your sudden refusal as an insult to my taste. If not an insult to my taste, then surely it is only a foolish modesty that would cause such a hasty reversal."
She paused for a moment, considering the girl in front of her, curious in a detached sort of way. In spite of her words being intended as the barbs they were, she did wonder at the girl’s lack of confidence. Born to her status with talents Circenia begrudgingly had to admit were genuine, what was it that made her so insecure? So unsure of herself?
“A word of advice, my lady, as I will choose to believe for now that your reaction is indeed modesty, rather than an intent to insult me. It is honestly better for all us that I believe that, wouldn’t you agree?” The princess gave Marietta a significant look that urged her not to argue before she went on, “Do not ever let modesty or false feelings of inferiority get in your way. You will never get anywhere in life if you do not acknowledge the advantages you have been given and exploit them to your own end. It does not matter if you feel like you are not good enough. Shout at the world your perfection, and eventually they will believe you.”
A tight smirk sat for a moment on Circenia’s lips. “Now, I will ask you one more time. Will you paint the portrait of my family? Choose your answer wisely, Lady Marietta, for I will not ask again.”
Circenia’s ire began to cool to… something else when Marietta spoke, valiantly attempting to hide her fear behind a seemingly polite retraction of her previous acceptance. Her brow rose in surprise, turning to lock the girl in her cold gaze. Why this sudden change of heart?
Glancing briefly toward the slave’s hasty retreat, she nearly laughed. Was it that? The princess looked back at Marietta. Because of the way she treated a slave? Clearly, the man was worthless if he couldn’t even handle the very simple job he was given, and she was sympathizing with him? Curious. Did the girl have no sense of her own worth? Her name alone…
“Are you refusing me, Lady Marietta?” Circenia’s voice was polite, but nearly impossible to interpret. Was she offended? Did she even care? The Stravos matriarch was a veritable master of concealing her own emotions, a fact she attributed to her almost eerie ability to ascertain the emotions of others. It was this ability that informed her of Marietta’s sudden discomfort—though she tried to disguise it, her attempts were clumsy at best. The way she glanced around the room like a cornered animal, the very abrupt about face of her feelings on the family portrait… What a shame.
“Why, you seemed so eager only moments ago.” Her gaze hardly left Marietta’s for a moment, though her face stayed the same—like sculpted stone. “Do you not think it is rather rude to take back something you have already agreed to? Especially so quickly.” Eyes glinting dangerously, she went on, “I do not particularly care for rudeness, my lady. I would not have sought to commission you if I did not think you up to the task. As you said yourself, I accept nothing less than perfection. Therefore, I fear I must take your sudden refusal as an insult to my taste. If not an insult to my taste, then surely it is only a foolish modesty that would cause such a hasty reversal."
She paused for a moment, considering the girl in front of her, curious in a detached sort of way. In spite of her words being intended as the barbs they were, she did wonder at the girl’s lack of confidence. Born to her status with talents Circenia begrudgingly had to admit were genuine, what was it that made her so insecure? So unsure of herself?
“A word of advice, my lady, as I will choose to believe for now that your reaction is indeed modesty, rather than an intent to insult me. It is honestly better for all us that I believe that, wouldn’t you agree?” The princess gave Marietta a significant look that urged her not to argue before she went on, “Do not ever let modesty or false feelings of inferiority get in your way. You will never get anywhere in life if you do not acknowledge the advantages you have been given and exploit them to your own end. It does not matter if you feel like you are not good enough. Shout at the world your perfection, and eventually they will believe you.”
A tight smirk sat for a moment on Circenia’s lips. “Now, I will ask you one more time. Will you paint the portrait of my family? Choose your answer wisely, Lady Marietta, for I will not ask again.”
Marietta didn’t know how to react. How did the Princess manage to give what seemingly was good advice, advice her own mother would give, and yet, all the same, be absolutely terrifying? Her words were all perfectly nice and polite. It was her tone that brought goosebumps to Marietta’s skin. Not only did she feel fear, but the Princess managed to make her feel shame. Why was she like this? Why was she so… pathetic?
With each word, the Princess spoke Marietta’s face got redder and redder. She felt like she could melt right here on this spot. Hades take her now, she wanted to die rather than be in this situation. Everything Marietta had said was polite, but instead, she had almost insulted Circenia and earned a lecture from her. Marietta opened her mouth to say something, anything to appease the Princess only for a weak noise to come out.
Once more she closed her mouth and allowed the Princess to continue. Marietta’s heart was pounding and teeth dug into her tongue all to stop the one thing that she dreaded most in this situation. The one thing that would make Marietta hide under her bed and never resurface. The one thing that would bring her shame more than anything thing else. The one thi-
Hiccup.
Oh god. Marietta’s hand quickly covered her mouth. The nervous hiccups. This was why Marietta was ‘modest.’ The feelings of inferiority were not false. She was too nervous, too cowardly, too… inferior while in the likes of other royalty and nobles. Marietta knew this to be a fact and had learned to live with her inferiority. She found strength in caring for her family. She found strength in the friendships she cultivated. But all other facets of her life? Marietta knew she would never be more than pathetic and instead learned to work with her weaknesses than try the impossible task of finding new strengths.
While the Princess’s words were, in fact, kind and… motherly in a way all it did was succeed in making Marietta feel small. And honestly, she was jealous of Circenia’s ability to be so confident. She took words that would normally be used to encourage but instead twisted them so that Marietta felt guilty being the way she was. Meanwhile, should Marietta say something, even to her sisters or friends, it would be met with an eye roll. Circenia was not just a Princess at this moment, she was a Queen. She had all the power at her fingertips and the ability to get whatever it was she wished for. Marietta admired this in Circenia. Marietta wished she had the opportunity to learn from Circenia, but knew even if she had that she would be too fearful to take it. The woman is more than Marietta could ever even dream of being.
“I… I will - hic - of course paint the portrait, Princess. If you have c-confidence in me… I should as well.” Her voice was small, and her mouth still tried to stifle the hiccups. But how could Marietta even dream of saying no? Circenia would crush her into more than nothing.
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Marietta didn’t know how to react. How did the Princess manage to give what seemingly was good advice, advice her own mother would give, and yet, all the same, be absolutely terrifying? Her words were all perfectly nice and polite. It was her tone that brought goosebumps to Marietta’s skin. Not only did she feel fear, but the Princess managed to make her feel shame. Why was she like this? Why was she so… pathetic?
With each word, the Princess spoke Marietta’s face got redder and redder. She felt like she could melt right here on this spot. Hades take her now, she wanted to die rather than be in this situation. Everything Marietta had said was polite, but instead, she had almost insulted Circenia and earned a lecture from her. Marietta opened her mouth to say something, anything to appease the Princess only for a weak noise to come out.
Once more she closed her mouth and allowed the Princess to continue. Marietta’s heart was pounding and teeth dug into her tongue all to stop the one thing that she dreaded most in this situation. The one thing that would make Marietta hide under her bed and never resurface. The one thing that would bring her shame more than anything thing else. The one thi-
Hiccup.
Oh god. Marietta’s hand quickly covered her mouth. The nervous hiccups. This was why Marietta was ‘modest.’ The feelings of inferiority were not false. She was too nervous, too cowardly, too… inferior while in the likes of other royalty and nobles. Marietta knew this to be a fact and had learned to live with her inferiority. She found strength in caring for her family. She found strength in the friendships she cultivated. But all other facets of her life? Marietta knew she would never be more than pathetic and instead learned to work with her weaknesses than try the impossible task of finding new strengths.
While the Princess’s words were, in fact, kind and… motherly in a way all it did was succeed in making Marietta feel small. And honestly, she was jealous of Circenia’s ability to be so confident. She took words that would normally be used to encourage but instead twisted them so that Marietta felt guilty being the way she was. Meanwhile, should Marietta say something, even to her sisters or friends, it would be met with an eye roll. Circenia was not just a Princess at this moment, she was a Queen. She had all the power at her fingertips and the ability to get whatever it was she wished for. Marietta admired this in Circenia. Marietta wished she had the opportunity to learn from Circenia, but knew even if she had that she would be too fearful to take it. The woman is more than Marietta could ever even dream of being.
“I… I will - hic - of course paint the portrait, Princess. If you have c-confidence in me… I should as well.” Her voice was small, and her mouth still tried to stifle the hiccups. But how could Marietta even dream of saying no? Circenia would crush her into more than nothing.
Marietta didn’t know how to react. How did the Princess manage to give what seemingly was good advice, advice her own mother would give, and yet, all the same, be absolutely terrifying? Her words were all perfectly nice and polite. It was her tone that brought goosebumps to Marietta’s skin. Not only did she feel fear, but the Princess managed to make her feel shame. Why was she like this? Why was she so… pathetic?
With each word, the Princess spoke Marietta’s face got redder and redder. She felt like she could melt right here on this spot. Hades take her now, she wanted to die rather than be in this situation. Everything Marietta had said was polite, but instead, she had almost insulted Circenia and earned a lecture from her. Marietta opened her mouth to say something, anything to appease the Princess only for a weak noise to come out.
Once more she closed her mouth and allowed the Princess to continue. Marietta’s heart was pounding and teeth dug into her tongue all to stop the one thing that she dreaded most in this situation. The one thing that would make Marietta hide under her bed and never resurface. The one thing that would bring her shame more than anything thing else. The one thi-
Hiccup.
Oh god. Marietta’s hand quickly covered her mouth. The nervous hiccups. This was why Marietta was ‘modest.’ The feelings of inferiority were not false. She was too nervous, too cowardly, too… inferior while in the likes of other royalty and nobles. Marietta knew this to be a fact and had learned to live with her inferiority. She found strength in caring for her family. She found strength in the friendships she cultivated. But all other facets of her life? Marietta knew she would never be more than pathetic and instead learned to work with her weaknesses than try the impossible task of finding new strengths.
While the Princess’s words were, in fact, kind and… motherly in a way all it did was succeed in making Marietta feel small. And honestly, she was jealous of Circenia’s ability to be so confident. She took words that would normally be used to encourage but instead twisted them so that Marietta felt guilty being the way she was. Meanwhile, should Marietta say something, even to her sisters or friends, it would be met with an eye roll. Circenia was not just a Princess at this moment, she was a Queen. She had all the power at her fingertips and the ability to get whatever it was she wished for. Marietta admired this in Circenia. Marietta wished she had the opportunity to learn from Circenia, but knew even if she had that she would be too fearful to take it. The woman is more than Marietta could ever even dream of being.
“I… I will - hic - of course paint the portrait, Princess. If you have c-confidence in me… I should as well.” Her voice was small, and her mouth still tried to stifle the hiccups. But how could Marietta even dream of saying no? Circenia would crush her into more than nothing.
Circenia had impeccable manners, even if she was an intimidating presence, and therefore she restrained her laugh at Marietta’s hiccups. A few too many cups of wine, she wondered? Or perhaps it was simply a manifestation of the nerves that practically screamed their existence. How… undignified. Whatever it was, the princess kept any amusement from her face and simply inclined her head at the young lady’s answer.
“Yes, that is what I thought you meant,” she replied with a brittle smile. “We shall receive you promptly at the archontiko then.” Nodding, Circenia tapped her chin thoughtfully as she thought of the best time to have Marietta come start the painting. “Right after the midday meal, five days from now, I think. I shall summon you then. Will that be agreeable to you?”
After their previous exchange, she highly doubted Lady Marietta would deny anything from her. Circenia probably could have insulted her mother, her father, her sisters, and her grandparents all in one breath, and the young Antonis girl would have nodded along and agreed. Such was the imperious sway she held over others; should someone ever say the word ‘no’ to Circenia, she soon made sure they would never use the word again.
Already, she was paying little more attention to Marietta, the plans fixed and made in her own mind. Rather, she was turning her focus to the semantics of getting her entire family together in one place without any arguments or scheduling conflicts. It seemed more and more difficult these days as her children’s social circles grew; their influence expanding just as Circenia’s had. There weren’t enough words for the pride she held in them, though the extension of their reach certainly made it more difficult to ensure she secured her own time with them.
Well, in this, they had no choice. It wouldn’t be long before marriages were secured for them all, prestige gained, and they left to pursue their own lives. She would take what time she could with them, and she would immortalize this moment in history before it was changed forever.
Realizing that she had all but ignored whatever Marietta replied with, she turned a smile back on the young woman. “Just be sure to be prepared by then, yes?” Her smile widened a little, thought it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I am looking forward to seeing your work, my lady. I trust you will not disappoint.”
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Circenia had impeccable manners, even if she was an intimidating presence, and therefore she restrained her laugh at Marietta’s hiccups. A few too many cups of wine, she wondered? Or perhaps it was simply a manifestation of the nerves that practically screamed their existence. How… undignified. Whatever it was, the princess kept any amusement from her face and simply inclined her head at the young lady’s answer.
“Yes, that is what I thought you meant,” she replied with a brittle smile. “We shall receive you promptly at the archontiko then.” Nodding, Circenia tapped her chin thoughtfully as she thought of the best time to have Marietta come start the painting. “Right after the midday meal, five days from now, I think. I shall summon you then. Will that be agreeable to you?”
After their previous exchange, she highly doubted Lady Marietta would deny anything from her. Circenia probably could have insulted her mother, her father, her sisters, and her grandparents all in one breath, and the young Antonis girl would have nodded along and agreed. Such was the imperious sway she held over others; should someone ever say the word ‘no’ to Circenia, she soon made sure they would never use the word again.
Already, she was paying little more attention to Marietta, the plans fixed and made in her own mind. Rather, she was turning her focus to the semantics of getting her entire family together in one place without any arguments or scheduling conflicts. It seemed more and more difficult these days as her children’s social circles grew; their influence expanding just as Circenia’s had. There weren’t enough words for the pride she held in them, though the extension of their reach certainly made it more difficult to ensure she secured her own time with them.
Well, in this, they had no choice. It wouldn’t be long before marriages were secured for them all, prestige gained, and they left to pursue their own lives. She would take what time she could with them, and she would immortalize this moment in history before it was changed forever.
Realizing that she had all but ignored whatever Marietta replied with, she turned a smile back on the young woman. “Just be sure to be prepared by then, yes?” Her smile widened a little, thought it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I am looking forward to seeing your work, my lady. I trust you will not disappoint.”
Circenia had impeccable manners, even if she was an intimidating presence, and therefore she restrained her laugh at Marietta’s hiccups. A few too many cups of wine, she wondered? Or perhaps it was simply a manifestation of the nerves that practically screamed their existence. How… undignified. Whatever it was, the princess kept any amusement from her face and simply inclined her head at the young lady’s answer.
“Yes, that is what I thought you meant,” she replied with a brittle smile. “We shall receive you promptly at the archontiko then.” Nodding, Circenia tapped her chin thoughtfully as she thought of the best time to have Marietta come start the painting. “Right after the midday meal, five days from now, I think. I shall summon you then. Will that be agreeable to you?”
After their previous exchange, she highly doubted Lady Marietta would deny anything from her. Circenia probably could have insulted her mother, her father, her sisters, and her grandparents all in one breath, and the young Antonis girl would have nodded along and agreed. Such was the imperious sway she held over others; should someone ever say the word ‘no’ to Circenia, she soon made sure they would never use the word again.
Already, she was paying little more attention to Marietta, the plans fixed and made in her own mind. Rather, she was turning her focus to the semantics of getting her entire family together in one place without any arguments or scheduling conflicts. It seemed more and more difficult these days as her children’s social circles grew; their influence expanding just as Circenia’s had. There weren’t enough words for the pride she held in them, though the extension of their reach certainly made it more difficult to ensure she secured her own time with them.
Well, in this, they had no choice. It wouldn’t be long before marriages were secured for them all, prestige gained, and they left to pursue their own lives. She would take what time she could with them, and she would immortalize this moment in history before it was changed forever.
Realizing that she had all but ignored whatever Marietta replied with, she turned a smile back on the young woman. “Just be sure to be prepared by then, yes?” Her smile widened a little, thought it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I am looking forward to seeing your work, my lady. I trust you will not disappoint.”
She didn’t even get to reply, for Circenia seemed to hear the answer she wanted to hear anyway. Five days? She had five days? No, no that was far too soon. How was she supposed to prepare for the most awkward, terrifying day of her life in five days? She needed… a month! Two! Three! She would need to train with her cousins in battle, for that clearly was going to be one. She would have to learn how to face the enemy and not cower in fear. Not that… the Stravos were the enemy but… the sentiment remained the same!
Five days? When the Princess was gone the hiccups got worse. She turned her back from everyone trying in vain to cover the Lady’s clear meltdown. She left without even speaking about logistics! Were the Stravos to provide the canvas and paint, or would it be Marietta who would need to do just that? How large of a portrait was she wanting? Where would it be hung? All of this was important information if Marietta was going to paint something to the Princess’s liking! And how much time would she be allotted before they inevitably must leave? What was her deadline?
What did Marietta do to deserve this? Her emotions went from excitement and honor to downright terrified. Marietta always felt confident in her painting, just as she did with her music, but never did she doubt herself as much as she did right now. It was not her talent that was in question but her ability to work under pressure, for surely Circenia would be watching with her piercing gaze just waiting for the noble girl to make the smallest mistake.
And Keikelius would be there too. Marietta could not recall a time where she spoke more than pleasantries to the man. He was… so unlike her own father. He was stone-faced and cold. And not to also mention Chara who… was not the type Marietta enjoyed associating herself with. The only person Marietta could handle was Elias, having no prior thoughts or feelings to Danae. Everyone else was…
No, she mustn’t panic. She must prepare. She’ll get a crash course of braver from her cousins. And she will prepare several canvases of varying sizes. Her own paints she would bring anyway, whether the Stravos provided them to her or not. The quality of paints, Marietta discovered, does not necessarily reflect in price. The most expensive ones do not always turn out to be her favorites. Her father imported paints from Taengea for her birthday and those would be the ones Marietta would use for the portrait. She had intended to use them for her own paintings but… well, the Stravos was much more important.
And Marietta did not care for compensation, though a nice pretty chiton like the one Elias gave her would be suitable. But that mattered not. Right now the only thing Marietta wanted to do was ditch court and hide in her bedroom where none will disturb her. And with one final glance to make sure no one else was waiting to corner her and make her suffer just as Circenia did, she finally made her escape hiccuping each and every step.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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She didn’t even get to reply, for Circenia seemed to hear the answer she wanted to hear anyway. Five days? She had five days? No, no that was far too soon. How was she supposed to prepare for the most awkward, terrifying day of her life in five days? She needed… a month! Two! Three! She would need to train with her cousins in battle, for that clearly was going to be one. She would have to learn how to face the enemy and not cower in fear. Not that… the Stravos were the enemy but… the sentiment remained the same!
Five days? When the Princess was gone the hiccups got worse. She turned her back from everyone trying in vain to cover the Lady’s clear meltdown. She left without even speaking about logistics! Were the Stravos to provide the canvas and paint, or would it be Marietta who would need to do just that? How large of a portrait was she wanting? Where would it be hung? All of this was important information if Marietta was going to paint something to the Princess’s liking! And how much time would she be allotted before they inevitably must leave? What was her deadline?
What did Marietta do to deserve this? Her emotions went from excitement and honor to downright terrified. Marietta always felt confident in her painting, just as she did with her music, but never did she doubt herself as much as she did right now. It was not her talent that was in question but her ability to work under pressure, for surely Circenia would be watching with her piercing gaze just waiting for the noble girl to make the smallest mistake.
And Keikelius would be there too. Marietta could not recall a time where she spoke more than pleasantries to the man. He was… so unlike her own father. He was stone-faced and cold. And not to also mention Chara who… was not the type Marietta enjoyed associating herself with. The only person Marietta could handle was Elias, having no prior thoughts or feelings to Danae. Everyone else was…
No, she mustn’t panic. She must prepare. She’ll get a crash course of braver from her cousins. And she will prepare several canvases of varying sizes. Her own paints she would bring anyway, whether the Stravos provided them to her or not. The quality of paints, Marietta discovered, does not necessarily reflect in price. The most expensive ones do not always turn out to be her favorites. Her father imported paints from Taengea for her birthday and those would be the ones Marietta would use for the portrait. She had intended to use them for her own paintings but… well, the Stravos was much more important.
And Marietta did not care for compensation, though a nice pretty chiton like the one Elias gave her would be suitable. But that mattered not. Right now the only thing Marietta wanted to do was ditch court and hide in her bedroom where none will disturb her. And with one final glance to make sure no one else was waiting to corner her and make her suffer just as Circenia did, she finally made her escape hiccuping each and every step.
She didn’t even get to reply, for Circenia seemed to hear the answer she wanted to hear anyway. Five days? She had five days? No, no that was far too soon. How was she supposed to prepare for the most awkward, terrifying day of her life in five days? She needed… a month! Two! Three! She would need to train with her cousins in battle, for that clearly was going to be one. She would have to learn how to face the enemy and not cower in fear. Not that… the Stravos were the enemy but… the sentiment remained the same!
Five days? When the Princess was gone the hiccups got worse. She turned her back from everyone trying in vain to cover the Lady’s clear meltdown. She left without even speaking about logistics! Were the Stravos to provide the canvas and paint, or would it be Marietta who would need to do just that? How large of a portrait was she wanting? Where would it be hung? All of this was important information if Marietta was going to paint something to the Princess’s liking! And how much time would she be allotted before they inevitably must leave? What was her deadline?
What did Marietta do to deserve this? Her emotions went from excitement and honor to downright terrified. Marietta always felt confident in her painting, just as she did with her music, but never did she doubt herself as much as she did right now. It was not her talent that was in question but her ability to work under pressure, for surely Circenia would be watching with her piercing gaze just waiting for the noble girl to make the smallest mistake.
And Keikelius would be there too. Marietta could not recall a time where she spoke more than pleasantries to the man. He was… so unlike her own father. He was stone-faced and cold. And not to also mention Chara who… was not the type Marietta enjoyed associating herself with. The only person Marietta could handle was Elias, having no prior thoughts or feelings to Danae. Everyone else was…
No, she mustn’t panic. She must prepare. She’ll get a crash course of braver from her cousins. And she will prepare several canvases of varying sizes. Her own paints she would bring anyway, whether the Stravos provided them to her or not. The quality of paints, Marietta discovered, does not necessarily reflect in price. The most expensive ones do not always turn out to be her favorites. Her father imported paints from Taengea for her birthday and those would be the ones Marietta would use for the portrait. She had intended to use them for her own paintings but… well, the Stravos was much more important.
And Marietta did not care for compensation, though a nice pretty chiton like the one Elias gave her would be suitable. But that mattered not. Right now the only thing Marietta wanted to do was ditch court and hide in her bedroom where none will disturb her. And with one final glance to make sure no one else was waiting to corner her and make her suffer just as Circenia did, she finally made her escape hiccuping each and every step.