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The arrival back in the Argyris manor had been hurried at best. The carriage that had carried the women and Iason back from the capitol and away from the harvest festival had rolled with a fair speed but it had still taken until beyond nightfall to reach Aetaea. With all of them tired - physically and mentally - it hadn't been the time to sit and analyse what had occurred over the course of the day. They had each needed time to retire to their own rooms, to take stock of the matter and to comprehend where they personally stood within it. Time to allow anxieties to settle and thoughts to cement. Before they could then come together and recognise how each individual place may communally join into a single cause.
It was to this reason that Persephone now headed for the shared chambers of her lady’s maids. Now numbering three, they were each occupied in their own matters when she pushed opened the door and stepped within the long room that houses three cots for their use. Olena sat perched on her bed, looking as if she were trying to keep down her morning repast, whilst Chrysanthe fiddled with one of Persephone's gowns - perhaps fixing the tear that she found the other day? Ariadne was holding parchment, perhaps letters or books or something of note between her fingers. But the arrival of their mistress would naturally draw their focus.
"Ladies..." Persephone greeted softly, looking around the room at each of them, wondering how much or little they might have said to one another since they arrived back in Aetaea yesterday. She looked towards Chrysanthe especially with a bright look of compassion to show that she was happy to see the girl returned. Given that she had journeyed to the capitol without them, she had returned as such the same way and Persephone was pleased to see that she had managed to do so without harm or incident (as far as she was aware).
Then she looked upon Olena and a slight frown appeared between her brows. The girl was pale and appeared sweaty, the colour around her throat and temples almost green. Her pallor set her fiery hair in stark contrast.
"Are you well, Olena?" She asked, concerned that the stress of their situation, of the world in general had set her physically nauseated...
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The arrival back in the Argyris manor had been hurried at best. The carriage that had carried the women and Iason back from the capitol and away from the harvest festival had rolled with a fair speed but it had still taken until beyond nightfall to reach Aetaea. With all of them tired - physically and mentally - it hadn't been the time to sit and analyse what had occurred over the course of the day. They had each needed time to retire to their own rooms, to take stock of the matter and to comprehend where they personally stood within it. Time to allow anxieties to settle and thoughts to cement. Before they could then come together and recognise how each individual place may communally join into a single cause.
It was to this reason that Persephone now headed for the shared chambers of her lady’s maids. Now numbering three, they were each occupied in their own matters when she pushed opened the door and stepped within the long room that houses three cots for their use. Olena sat perched on her bed, looking as if she were trying to keep down her morning repast, whilst Chrysanthe fiddled with one of Persephone's gowns - perhaps fixing the tear that she found the other day? Ariadne was holding parchment, perhaps letters or books or something of note between her fingers. But the arrival of their mistress would naturally draw their focus.
"Ladies..." Persephone greeted softly, looking around the room at each of them, wondering how much or little they might have said to one another since they arrived back in Aetaea yesterday. She looked towards Chrysanthe especially with a bright look of compassion to show that she was happy to see the girl returned. Given that she had journeyed to the capitol without them, she had returned as such the same way and Persephone was pleased to see that she had managed to do so without harm or incident (as far as she was aware).
Then she looked upon Olena and a slight frown appeared between her brows. The girl was pale and appeared sweaty, the colour around her throat and temples almost green. Her pallor set her fiery hair in stark contrast.
"Are you well, Olena?" She asked, concerned that the stress of their situation, of the world in general had set her physically nauseated...
The arrival back in the Argyris manor had been hurried at best. The carriage that had carried the women and Iason back from the capitol and away from the harvest festival had rolled with a fair speed but it had still taken until beyond nightfall to reach Aetaea. With all of them tired - physically and mentally - it hadn't been the time to sit and analyse what had occurred over the course of the day. They had each needed time to retire to their own rooms, to take stock of the matter and to comprehend where they personally stood within it. Time to allow anxieties to settle and thoughts to cement. Before they could then come together and recognise how each individual place may communally join into a single cause.
It was to this reason that Persephone now headed for the shared chambers of her lady’s maids. Now numbering three, they were each occupied in their own matters when she pushed opened the door and stepped within the long room that houses three cots for their use. Olena sat perched on her bed, looking as if she were trying to keep down her morning repast, whilst Chrysanthe fiddled with one of Persephone's gowns - perhaps fixing the tear that she found the other day? Ariadne was holding parchment, perhaps letters or books or something of note between her fingers. But the arrival of their mistress would naturally draw their focus.
"Ladies..." Persephone greeted softly, looking around the room at each of them, wondering how much or little they might have said to one another since they arrived back in Aetaea yesterday. She looked towards Chrysanthe especially with a bright look of compassion to show that she was happy to see the girl returned. Given that she had journeyed to the capitol without them, she had returned as such the same way and Persephone was pleased to see that she had managed to do so without harm or incident (as far as she was aware).
Then she looked upon Olena and a slight frown appeared between her brows. The girl was pale and appeared sweaty, the colour around her throat and temples almost green. Her pallor set her fiery hair in stark contrast.
"Are you well, Olena?" She asked, concerned that the stress of their situation, of the world in general had set her physically nauseated...
When Dima had first left, she had been far too anxious to stay alone in the room they shared. While she knew it would bring her comfort to be where they’d been together, it was far more comforting to have someone close by. The friendship between herself and the other maid was growing, so there had been no hesitation for her to join the girl in her room. It felt like life before Dima, where they would sit around a talk about things that didn’t seem to matter. And while they had come from different lives, it was easy to talk to Chrysanthe.
She was blunt, and Olena liked that about her.
But now that it was obvious that something terrible had happened to Dima, it was close to impossible to keep the girl from the room they once shared. Her nightmares alone were silent, as they had always been. But she would wake up in a cold sweat and pad her way back to what had been their room. She would pull his shirt, stale with the smell of him, over her body and cry herself back to sleep. And while the nightmares were only worse in their bed, at least she felt wrapped in his arms.
She didn’t speak of the nightmares to Chrysanthe the next morning. The girl would quietly pull her back into reality, where Olena tended to keep to herself as much as possible. The images were always fresh in her head. Dmytros, hung from the doorway like her family had been. Or tortured to the point of death like some of the slaves she had been brought over with were. Or dying a slave’s death, like her sister had. Every night, the dead boy of the man she loved filled her head. And during the day, the thought of it would make her vomit. Her stomach had been queasy since they had settled into the estate, but now her imagination was only making it worse.
She could not eat and drank little. In the evenings, when the dreams were far away yet so close, some bread was usually coaxed into her body and kept down. But the cycle would start again with morning light. That morning, hair around her shoulders, Olena hadn’t thought much about the olive color gown she found herself in. The color usually was one of her best, highlighting her contrasts. But with the lack of stability in her stomach, it was no wonder the Queen was looking at her as if she had the sickness.
It took her a moment to register the question. Looking up at the Queen, she tried to nod, but the motion set the room spinning and she was off the bed quickly, searching for a place to empty her stomach in. Settling for the open window, the girl felt a bit better as soon as her stomach was empty. It fit with how empty she felt inside. “I am worried about Dima, my lady.” She said quietly to her, returning to the spot on the bed she had been sitting on. There was little else for her to say on the matter, but the concerned look from Persephone made her shrug. “I have been parted from him before, but his fate had seemed more certain then. I do not like the unknown.”
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When Dima had first left, she had been far too anxious to stay alone in the room they shared. While she knew it would bring her comfort to be where they’d been together, it was far more comforting to have someone close by. The friendship between herself and the other maid was growing, so there had been no hesitation for her to join the girl in her room. It felt like life before Dima, where they would sit around a talk about things that didn’t seem to matter. And while they had come from different lives, it was easy to talk to Chrysanthe.
She was blunt, and Olena liked that about her.
But now that it was obvious that something terrible had happened to Dima, it was close to impossible to keep the girl from the room they once shared. Her nightmares alone were silent, as they had always been. But she would wake up in a cold sweat and pad her way back to what had been their room. She would pull his shirt, stale with the smell of him, over her body and cry herself back to sleep. And while the nightmares were only worse in their bed, at least she felt wrapped in his arms.
She didn’t speak of the nightmares to Chrysanthe the next morning. The girl would quietly pull her back into reality, where Olena tended to keep to herself as much as possible. The images were always fresh in her head. Dmytros, hung from the doorway like her family had been. Or tortured to the point of death like some of the slaves she had been brought over with were. Or dying a slave’s death, like her sister had. Every night, the dead boy of the man she loved filled her head. And during the day, the thought of it would make her vomit. Her stomach had been queasy since they had settled into the estate, but now her imagination was only making it worse.
She could not eat and drank little. In the evenings, when the dreams were far away yet so close, some bread was usually coaxed into her body and kept down. But the cycle would start again with morning light. That morning, hair around her shoulders, Olena hadn’t thought much about the olive color gown she found herself in. The color usually was one of her best, highlighting her contrasts. But with the lack of stability in her stomach, it was no wonder the Queen was looking at her as if she had the sickness.
It took her a moment to register the question. Looking up at the Queen, she tried to nod, but the motion set the room spinning and she was off the bed quickly, searching for a place to empty her stomach in. Settling for the open window, the girl felt a bit better as soon as her stomach was empty. It fit with how empty she felt inside. “I am worried about Dima, my lady.” She said quietly to her, returning to the spot on the bed she had been sitting on. There was little else for her to say on the matter, but the concerned look from Persephone made her shrug. “I have been parted from him before, but his fate had seemed more certain then. I do not like the unknown.”
When Dima had first left, she had been far too anxious to stay alone in the room they shared. While she knew it would bring her comfort to be where they’d been together, it was far more comforting to have someone close by. The friendship between herself and the other maid was growing, so there had been no hesitation for her to join the girl in her room. It felt like life before Dima, where they would sit around a talk about things that didn’t seem to matter. And while they had come from different lives, it was easy to talk to Chrysanthe.
She was blunt, and Olena liked that about her.
But now that it was obvious that something terrible had happened to Dima, it was close to impossible to keep the girl from the room they once shared. Her nightmares alone were silent, as they had always been. But she would wake up in a cold sweat and pad her way back to what had been their room. She would pull his shirt, stale with the smell of him, over her body and cry herself back to sleep. And while the nightmares were only worse in their bed, at least she felt wrapped in his arms.
She didn’t speak of the nightmares to Chrysanthe the next morning. The girl would quietly pull her back into reality, where Olena tended to keep to herself as much as possible. The images were always fresh in her head. Dmytros, hung from the doorway like her family had been. Or tortured to the point of death like some of the slaves she had been brought over with were. Or dying a slave’s death, like her sister had. Every night, the dead boy of the man she loved filled her head. And during the day, the thought of it would make her vomit. Her stomach had been queasy since they had settled into the estate, but now her imagination was only making it worse.
She could not eat and drank little. In the evenings, when the dreams were far away yet so close, some bread was usually coaxed into her body and kept down. But the cycle would start again with morning light. That morning, hair around her shoulders, Olena hadn’t thought much about the olive color gown she found herself in. The color usually was one of her best, highlighting her contrasts. But with the lack of stability in her stomach, it was no wonder the Queen was looking at her as if she had the sickness.
It took her a moment to register the question. Looking up at the Queen, she tried to nod, but the motion set the room spinning and she was off the bed quickly, searching for a place to empty her stomach in. Settling for the open window, the girl felt a bit better as soon as her stomach was empty. It fit with how empty she felt inside. “I am worried about Dima, my lady.” She said quietly to her, returning to the spot on the bed she had been sitting on. There was little else for her to say on the matter, but the concerned look from Persephone made her shrug. “I have been parted from him before, but his fate had seemed more certain then. I do not like the unknown.”
The past day had been an utter change for Ariadne. It was as if the past few months that she had spent agonizing were suddenly behind her. Not that there wasn’t plenty for her to still agonize over. It just all felt a little less worse now that she knew Persephone was alive—and with her in this very house. However, the reminder that she was not in her father’s home sent another pang of guilt through her. She could only hope that he had made his way to the inn and had found her note. Otherwise, she was sure that he would be out of his mind with worry for her. Even if he might have guessed where she had gone, Ariadne knew that he would not rest until he knew for certain. At this point, only her coded letter to him would solve the mystery.
Ariadne had spent the hours since they had absconded fretting silently about that, but said nothing to her new companions. The new maids that Persephone seemed to have acquired seemed nice, but they didn’t know Ari or her father, so wouldn’t likely understand the nature of her worry. Persephone would, of course, but Ariadne knew that she was dealing with far more. She wouldn’t worry the queen with her own concerns. That was not her place. Besides, she hoped that her father would find a way to respond soon enough.
When they had finally reached their new home, the women sorted themselves without much speaking and once Ariadne laid her head down, she fell into a dreamless slumber. The next morning saw her more rested, though she wasn’t sure she could say the same of her new companions. Lady Olena looked positively ill, but despite Ariadne’s tendency to take care of everyone around her she hadn’t offered much in the way of comfort. She had sent an order for both a hot and cold compress as well as some ginger tea, hoping that one of those items would help Olena.
There was a gentle knock on the door and before Ariadne could answer, Persephone let herself in. Ariadne set down the papers she had been reading, bobbing a greeting to her queen and friend. Like Ariadne, Persephone noted that something seemed off about Olena. She asked a question and before the woman could answer, she found an open window and vomited. Ariadne’s brows raised, wondering where the items she asked for were.
She observed as Persephone sat close to Olena and the short conversation between them. Was that all it was? Missing someone? Ariadne didn’t know enough about the situation to accurately guess if there could be more to the story. In any case, it didn’t matter. She would offer comfort if she could.
Finally, there was another knock at the door with a servant holding the compresses and tea. Ariadne thanked the young girl and took the items, approaching Persephone and Olena. She knew she ought to have thought her mistress might like something, but hadn’t anticipated her arrival. Hoping that she wouldn’t seem too impertinent, Ari offered the tea to Olena.
“Would you care for some ginger tea, Olena?” she asked softly, approaching the pair on the bed. “I also have a hot and cold compress if you would like either of those. Please let me know what we can do.”
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The past day had been an utter change for Ariadne. It was as if the past few months that she had spent agonizing were suddenly behind her. Not that there wasn’t plenty for her to still agonize over. It just all felt a little less worse now that she knew Persephone was alive—and with her in this very house. However, the reminder that she was not in her father’s home sent another pang of guilt through her. She could only hope that he had made his way to the inn and had found her note. Otherwise, she was sure that he would be out of his mind with worry for her. Even if he might have guessed where she had gone, Ariadne knew that he would not rest until he knew for certain. At this point, only her coded letter to him would solve the mystery.
Ariadne had spent the hours since they had absconded fretting silently about that, but said nothing to her new companions. The new maids that Persephone seemed to have acquired seemed nice, but they didn’t know Ari or her father, so wouldn’t likely understand the nature of her worry. Persephone would, of course, but Ariadne knew that she was dealing with far more. She wouldn’t worry the queen with her own concerns. That was not her place. Besides, she hoped that her father would find a way to respond soon enough.
When they had finally reached their new home, the women sorted themselves without much speaking and once Ariadne laid her head down, she fell into a dreamless slumber. The next morning saw her more rested, though she wasn’t sure she could say the same of her new companions. Lady Olena looked positively ill, but despite Ariadne’s tendency to take care of everyone around her she hadn’t offered much in the way of comfort. She had sent an order for both a hot and cold compress as well as some ginger tea, hoping that one of those items would help Olena.
There was a gentle knock on the door and before Ariadne could answer, Persephone let herself in. Ariadne set down the papers she had been reading, bobbing a greeting to her queen and friend. Like Ariadne, Persephone noted that something seemed off about Olena. She asked a question and before the woman could answer, she found an open window and vomited. Ariadne’s brows raised, wondering where the items she asked for were.
She observed as Persephone sat close to Olena and the short conversation between them. Was that all it was? Missing someone? Ariadne didn’t know enough about the situation to accurately guess if there could be more to the story. In any case, it didn’t matter. She would offer comfort if she could.
Finally, there was another knock at the door with a servant holding the compresses and tea. Ariadne thanked the young girl and took the items, approaching Persephone and Olena. She knew she ought to have thought her mistress might like something, but hadn’t anticipated her arrival. Hoping that she wouldn’t seem too impertinent, Ari offered the tea to Olena.
“Would you care for some ginger tea, Olena?” she asked softly, approaching the pair on the bed. “I also have a hot and cold compress if you would like either of those. Please let me know what we can do.”
The past day had been an utter change for Ariadne. It was as if the past few months that she had spent agonizing were suddenly behind her. Not that there wasn’t plenty for her to still agonize over. It just all felt a little less worse now that she knew Persephone was alive—and with her in this very house. However, the reminder that she was not in her father’s home sent another pang of guilt through her. She could only hope that he had made his way to the inn and had found her note. Otherwise, she was sure that he would be out of his mind with worry for her. Even if he might have guessed where she had gone, Ariadne knew that he would not rest until he knew for certain. At this point, only her coded letter to him would solve the mystery.
Ariadne had spent the hours since they had absconded fretting silently about that, but said nothing to her new companions. The new maids that Persephone seemed to have acquired seemed nice, but they didn’t know Ari or her father, so wouldn’t likely understand the nature of her worry. Persephone would, of course, but Ariadne knew that she was dealing with far more. She wouldn’t worry the queen with her own concerns. That was not her place. Besides, she hoped that her father would find a way to respond soon enough.
When they had finally reached their new home, the women sorted themselves without much speaking and once Ariadne laid her head down, she fell into a dreamless slumber. The next morning saw her more rested, though she wasn’t sure she could say the same of her new companions. Lady Olena looked positively ill, but despite Ariadne’s tendency to take care of everyone around her she hadn’t offered much in the way of comfort. She had sent an order for both a hot and cold compress as well as some ginger tea, hoping that one of those items would help Olena.
There was a gentle knock on the door and before Ariadne could answer, Persephone let herself in. Ariadne set down the papers she had been reading, bobbing a greeting to her queen and friend. Like Ariadne, Persephone noted that something seemed off about Olena. She asked a question and before the woman could answer, she found an open window and vomited. Ariadne’s brows raised, wondering where the items she asked for were.
She observed as Persephone sat close to Olena and the short conversation between them. Was that all it was? Missing someone? Ariadne didn’t know enough about the situation to accurately guess if there could be more to the story. In any case, it didn’t matter. She would offer comfort if she could.
Finally, there was another knock at the door with a servant holding the compresses and tea. Ariadne thanked the young girl and took the items, approaching Persephone and Olena. She knew she ought to have thought her mistress might like something, but hadn’t anticipated her arrival. Hoping that she wouldn’t seem too impertinent, Ari offered the tea to Olena.
“Would you care for some ginger tea, Olena?” she asked softly, approaching the pair on the bed. “I also have a hot and cold compress if you would like either of those. Please let me know what we can do.”
Originally Chrysanthe had intended to go to the capitol but she found that there was just too much to do around the house that she hadn’t ended up having the time to find a way to travel there and back again. She had spent the day arranging Perse’s things and making sure that her clothes were all in the best of repair. She’d also managed to look after some of her own new clothes, taking in some seams to better fit her own measurements. That had taken a few tries, with the thinner more slippery fabric being unfamiliar to stitch.
Perhaps finding all these chores to do was just an excuse for the trepidation that she felt in being in a new and unfamiliar place. Sitting here working on repairing Perse’s clothes, in this incredibly beautiful building on a nice soft bed, that was as much unfamiliarity that she was comfortable with. It would have been almost too much to find her way around a different new and crowded city, and to remember that she had to have the manners expected of her now that she was the lady’s maid to Perse.
So there she sat working on the mending as Ariadne did something with papers that Chrysanthe could only just begin to fathom. Her reading lessons had been progressing, but it was still a task that took a good deal of concentration and reading aloud to accomplish. She was not going to have a sense of what was going on just by glancing over at the papers. She had had little opportunity to talk with the others about what had happened the day before, although she was eager to hear the stories.
It was then that Perse had entered the room looking from girl to girl, with the kind smile that she had always shown. It was something Chrysanthe had never understood about Perse, how she always seemed to have the energy to be so pleasant to everyone, but she couldn’t say that she was complaining. It was nice to have someone who seemed to truly care about her and the others.
She, of course, noticed Olena’s unsettled stomach almost immediately. Chrysanthe had been trying not to make a big deal of it. Olena had been very upset since Dima had disappeared. Chrysanthe knew that she would often wake up and, she assumed, go sleep in the room that the two had once shared. But Olena never mentioned anything, and so Chrysanthe took her lead. There was no use prying about a subject that would only make the woman upset. She assumed that was why Olena had yet to tell her about the pregnancy. That was certain to be an emotional topic given that it was unknown where the child’s father might be. But Chrysanthe was positive she was with child, she had seen her own mother pregnant enough times that it was obvious.
Chrysanthe frowned slightly at Olena’s explanation to Perse. Was there some reason she didn’t tell her about the baby? Or was it just that worry was more pressing and making the morning sickness worse. Or perhaps it was just rude to talk about such things. Chrysanthe was never sure anymore.
It was then that the tea and compresses arrived. Chrysanthe had been so absorbed with her own earlier work that she hadn’t realized that it had been ordered or she might have said something then.
“Oh I wouldn’t use ginger tea. My mother always said that that would give the baby a temper.” She knew there were women who liked to use ginger for an upset stomach, but her mother had always discouraged it if the woman was pregnant. “She preferred peppermint to settle her stomach during morning sickness. That should result in a child with a cooler head.” Chrysanthe didn’t even think that it might be impertinent to offer advice about how to best handle her condition. Nor had she considered that Olena’s condition wasn’t as obvious to the women around her as it was to her.
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Originally Chrysanthe had intended to go to the capitol but she found that there was just too much to do around the house that she hadn’t ended up having the time to find a way to travel there and back again. She had spent the day arranging Perse’s things and making sure that her clothes were all in the best of repair. She’d also managed to look after some of her own new clothes, taking in some seams to better fit her own measurements. That had taken a few tries, with the thinner more slippery fabric being unfamiliar to stitch.
Perhaps finding all these chores to do was just an excuse for the trepidation that she felt in being in a new and unfamiliar place. Sitting here working on repairing Perse’s clothes, in this incredibly beautiful building on a nice soft bed, that was as much unfamiliarity that she was comfortable with. It would have been almost too much to find her way around a different new and crowded city, and to remember that she had to have the manners expected of her now that she was the lady’s maid to Perse.
So there she sat working on the mending as Ariadne did something with papers that Chrysanthe could only just begin to fathom. Her reading lessons had been progressing, but it was still a task that took a good deal of concentration and reading aloud to accomplish. She was not going to have a sense of what was going on just by glancing over at the papers. She had had little opportunity to talk with the others about what had happened the day before, although she was eager to hear the stories.
It was then that Perse had entered the room looking from girl to girl, with the kind smile that she had always shown. It was something Chrysanthe had never understood about Perse, how she always seemed to have the energy to be so pleasant to everyone, but she couldn’t say that she was complaining. It was nice to have someone who seemed to truly care about her and the others.
She, of course, noticed Olena’s unsettled stomach almost immediately. Chrysanthe had been trying not to make a big deal of it. Olena had been very upset since Dima had disappeared. Chrysanthe knew that she would often wake up and, she assumed, go sleep in the room that the two had once shared. But Olena never mentioned anything, and so Chrysanthe took her lead. There was no use prying about a subject that would only make the woman upset. She assumed that was why Olena had yet to tell her about the pregnancy. That was certain to be an emotional topic given that it was unknown where the child’s father might be. But Chrysanthe was positive she was with child, she had seen her own mother pregnant enough times that it was obvious.
Chrysanthe frowned slightly at Olena’s explanation to Perse. Was there some reason she didn’t tell her about the baby? Or was it just that worry was more pressing and making the morning sickness worse. Or perhaps it was just rude to talk about such things. Chrysanthe was never sure anymore.
It was then that the tea and compresses arrived. Chrysanthe had been so absorbed with her own earlier work that she hadn’t realized that it had been ordered or she might have said something then.
“Oh I wouldn’t use ginger tea. My mother always said that that would give the baby a temper.” She knew there were women who liked to use ginger for an upset stomach, but her mother had always discouraged it if the woman was pregnant. “She preferred peppermint to settle her stomach during morning sickness. That should result in a child with a cooler head.” Chrysanthe didn’t even think that it might be impertinent to offer advice about how to best handle her condition. Nor had she considered that Olena’s condition wasn’t as obvious to the women around her as it was to her.
Originally Chrysanthe had intended to go to the capitol but she found that there was just too much to do around the house that she hadn’t ended up having the time to find a way to travel there and back again. She had spent the day arranging Perse’s things and making sure that her clothes were all in the best of repair. She’d also managed to look after some of her own new clothes, taking in some seams to better fit her own measurements. That had taken a few tries, with the thinner more slippery fabric being unfamiliar to stitch.
Perhaps finding all these chores to do was just an excuse for the trepidation that she felt in being in a new and unfamiliar place. Sitting here working on repairing Perse’s clothes, in this incredibly beautiful building on a nice soft bed, that was as much unfamiliarity that she was comfortable with. It would have been almost too much to find her way around a different new and crowded city, and to remember that she had to have the manners expected of her now that she was the lady’s maid to Perse.
So there she sat working on the mending as Ariadne did something with papers that Chrysanthe could only just begin to fathom. Her reading lessons had been progressing, but it was still a task that took a good deal of concentration and reading aloud to accomplish. She was not going to have a sense of what was going on just by glancing over at the papers. She had had little opportunity to talk with the others about what had happened the day before, although she was eager to hear the stories.
It was then that Perse had entered the room looking from girl to girl, with the kind smile that she had always shown. It was something Chrysanthe had never understood about Perse, how she always seemed to have the energy to be so pleasant to everyone, but she couldn’t say that she was complaining. It was nice to have someone who seemed to truly care about her and the others.
She, of course, noticed Olena’s unsettled stomach almost immediately. Chrysanthe had been trying not to make a big deal of it. Olena had been very upset since Dima had disappeared. Chrysanthe knew that she would often wake up and, she assumed, go sleep in the room that the two had once shared. But Olena never mentioned anything, and so Chrysanthe took her lead. There was no use prying about a subject that would only make the woman upset. She assumed that was why Olena had yet to tell her about the pregnancy. That was certain to be an emotional topic given that it was unknown where the child’s father might be. But Chrysanthe was positive she was with child, she had seen her own mother pregnant enough times that it was obvious.
Chrysanthe frowned slightly at Olena’s explanation to Perse. Was there some reason she didn’t tell her about the baby? Or was it just that worry was more pressing and making the morning sickness worse. Or perhaps it was just rude to talk about such things. Chrysanthe was never sure anymore.
It was then that the tea and compresses arrived. Chrysanthe had been so absorbed with her own earlier work that she hadn’t realized that it had been ordered or she might have said something then.
“Oh I wouldn’t use ginger tea. My mother always said that that would give the baby a temper.” She knew there were women who liked to use ginger for an upset stomach, but her mother had always discouraged it if the woman was pregnant. “She preferred peppermint to settle her stomach during morning sickness. That should result in a child with a cooler head.” Chrysanthe didn’t even think that it might be impertinent to offer advice about how to best handle her condition. Nor had she considered that Olena’s condition wasn’t as obvious to the women around her as it was to her.
So many royals were brought up with the understanding of how to put a pleasant smile on their faces and interact with people of all backgrounds and considerations. It was important, on a political and trading level, that all those who stood before a royal thought themselves special and cared for. It greased the wheels of negotiations and communication; often in your favour. But Persephone was perhaps unique in a simple element of this training. For her, the techniques that she had been taught to draw someone into her way of thinking and to see her point of view had become a habit. And gradually, over the years, habit had crystallised into personality. And her genuine compassion for others had seen that her smiles and welcoming attitude was something that was both genuine and natural. A rarity among her peerage, perhaps.
So, when she entered the chambers and smiled at Chrysanthe's presence, she was genuine in her kindness. When she looked to Ariadne and nodded in a polite reception of her curtsey, there was friendship in her eyes. When she turned to look upon Olena there was real concern in her tone.
Initially, Persephone did not sit beside the girl and was thankful for that as she suddenly bounded from the mattress and rushed to the open window. She bent her body up and over the sill, evacuating her belly and being sick down into the courtyard below. For a moment, Persephone hoped that no servant had taken to wandering the open, paved space beneath at that moment and when there was no cry of outrage from outside, she was thankful. Olena came to return to the bed, at which point, Persephone took the opportunity to sit beside her. Instinctively, despite her natural lack of touch and the rareness with which she broke her own bubble of personal space, Persephone reached to take one of Olena's hands in both of her own.
Maybe it was guilt that saw her attempting to comfort the woman. For Demetrius's absence was of Persephone's making. If she had never wished to send that letter to Emilia, she would have never sent the man into the dangers he had clearly come upon. Or, it was genuine compassion for Demetrius himself. She had cared for him a little in Taengea, bonded with him during their return journey, and respected him all the more for the love and devotion he paid to the redhaired girl that had been lost to him for so many years. She did not wish to see the woman that Demetrius loved so much fall to illness over her worry for him. It would be a second injury upon a man who had already suffered much in her stewardship.
It didn't occur to Persephone that any injury or wound she might inflict upon these two people was slight compared to the suffrage they had been forced to endure so far. But that was simply her naive upbringing, safe in the security of her own wealth and loving family.
Persephone knew what Olena meant when she spoke of the unknown being harder to accept than any reality - regardless of how bad the truth might be. There was a certain tension and fear in the uncertainty that no tragedy could quite meet. She wondered if, perhaps, this was why her mind had been so quick to believe that Emilia had died in the raid upon the palati. For even as sorrowful as bereavement was, it was perhaps less painful than not knowing the young girl's fate.
She was, Persephone decided, not as brave or sturdy as Olena.
Squeezing the woman's fingers in her hands, Persephone looked up at the knock upon the door and witnessed Ariadne take possession of a delivery at the door. When she shifted the portal closed, she turned with a small tray, cup and compresses laying upon its surface. Persephone's smile was bright as it returned to her face, reminded of Ariadne's generous and caring nature.
Ari came closer with the proffered tray and offered up a cup of ginger tea. Olena seemed to still require the hand that pressed to her middle, so Persephone reached and took the cup for her, ready to offer it into her grasp when she was ready. It was only as the redhead was looking to take the cup that Chrysanthe spoke.
The tone of her advice was sweet and light, her expression open and innocent. But the words themselves suddenly hung in the air like anvils of severity. The atmosphere grew thick, the room small. Persephone looked to Olena with sharp and assessing eyes. She drew the ginger tea away a little at Chrysanthe's advice, as if she sought confirmation from the girl before she insisted on drinking it.
"Olena?" She asked. There was such significance on the name that she needed to say little more, her gaze seeking the truth from Olena's eyes on whether or not a pregnancy was possible... For only she knew the secrets of her own womanly body.
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So many royals were brought up with the understanding of how to put a pleasant smile on their faces and interact with people of all backgrounds and considerations. It was important, on a political and trading level, that all those who stood before a royal thought themselves special and cared for. It greased the wheels of negotiations and communication; often in your favour. But Persephone was perhaps unique in a simple element of this training. For her, the techniques that she had been taught to draw someone into her way of thinking and to see her point of view had become a habit. And gradually, over the years, habit had crystallised into personality. And her genuine compassion for others had seen that her smiles and welcoming attitude was something that was both genuine and natural. A rarity among her peerage, perhaps.
So, when she entered the chambers and smiled at Chrysanthe's presence, she was genuine in her kindness. When she looked to Ariadne and nodded in a polite reception of her curtsey, there was friendship in her eyes. When she turned to look upon Olena there was real concern in her tone.
Initially, Persephone did not sit beside the girl and was thankful for that as she suddenly bounded from the mattress and rushed to the open window. She bent her body up and over the sill, evacuating her belly and being sick down into the courtyard below. For a moment, Persephone hoped that no servant had taken to wandering the open, paved space beneath at that moment and when there was no cry of outrage from outside, she was thankful. Olena came to return to the bed, at which point, Persephone took the opportunity to sit beside her. Instinctively, despite her natural lack of touch and the rareness with which she broke her own bubble of personal space, Persephone reached to take one of Olena's hands in both of her own.
Maybe it was guilt that saw her attempting to comfort the woman. For Demetrius's absence was of Persephone's making. If she had never wished to send that letter to Emilia, she would have never sent the man into the dangers he had clearly come upon. Or, it was genuine compassion for Demetrius himself. She had cared for him a little in Taengea, bonded with him during their return journey, and respected him all the more for the love and devotion he paid to the redhaired girl that had been lost to him for so many years. She did not wish to see the woman that Demetrius loved so much fall to illness over her worry for him. It would be a second injury upon a man who had already suffered much in her stewardship.
It didn't occur to Persephone that any injury or wound she might inflict upon these two people was slight compared to the suffrage they had been forced to endure so far. But that was simply her naive upbringing, safe in the security of her own wealth and loving family.
Persephone knew what Olena meant when she spoke of the unknown being harder to accept than any reality - regardless of how bad the truth might be. There was a certain tension and fear in the uncertainty that no tragedy could quite meet. She wondered if, perhaps, this was why her mind had been so quick to believe that Emilia had died in the raid upon the palati. For even as sorrowful as bereavement was, it was perhaps less painful than not knowing the young girl's fate.
She was, Persephone decided, not as brave or sturdy as Olena.
Squeezing the woman's fingers in her hands, Persephone looked up at the knock upon the door and witnessed Ariadne take possession of a delivery at the door. When she shifted the portal closed, she turned with a small tray, cup and compresses laying upon its surface. Persephone's smile was bright as it returned to her face, reminded of Ariadne's generous and caring nature.
Ari came closer with the proffered tray and offered up a cup of ginger tea. Olena seemed to still require the hand that pressed to her middle, so Persephone reached and took the cup for her, ready to offer it into her grasp when she was ready. It was only as the redhead was looking to take the cup that Chrysanthe spoke.
The tone of her advice was sweet and light, her expression open and innocent. But the words themselves suddenly hung in the air like anvils of severity. The atmosphere grew thick, the room small. Persephone looked to Olena with sharp and assessing eyes. She drew the ginger tea away a little at Chrysanthe's advice, as if she sought confirmation from the girl before she insisted on drinking it.
"Olena?" She asked. There was such significance on the name that she needed to say little more, her gaze seeking the truth from Olena's eyes on whether or not a pregnancy was possible... For only she knew the secrets of her own womanly body.
So many royals were brought up with the understanding of how to put a pleasant smile on their faces and interact with people of all backgrounds and considerations. It was important, on a political and trading level, that all those who stood before a royal thought themselves special and cared for. It greased the wheels of negotiations and communication; often in your favour. But Persephone was perhaps unique in a simple element of this training. For her, the techniques that she had been taught to draw someone into her way of thinking and to see her point of view had become a habit. And gradually, over the years, habit had crystallised into personality. And her genuine compassion for others had seen that her smiles and welcoming attitude was something that was both genuine and natural. A rarity among her peerage, perhaps.
So, when she entered the chambers and smiled at Chrysanthe's presence, she was genuine in her kindness. When she looked to Ariadne and nodded in a polite reception of her curtsey, there was friendship in her eyes. When she turned to look upon Olena there was real concern in her tone.
Initially, Persephone did not sit beside the girl and was thankful for that as she suddenly bounded from the mattress and rushed to the open window. She bent her body up and over the sill, evacuating her belly and being sick down into the courtyard below. For a moment, Persephone hoped that no servant had taken to wandering the open, paved space beneath at that moment and when there was no cry of outrage from outside, she was thankful. Olena came to return to the bed, at which point, Persephone took the opportunity to sit beside her. Instinctively, despite her natural lack of touch and the rareness with which she broke her own bubble of personal space, Persephone reached to take one of Olena's hands in both of her own.
Maybe it was guilt that saw her attempting to comfort the woman. For Demetrius's absence was of Persephone's making. If she had never wished to send that letter to Emilia, she would have never sent the man into the dangers he had clearly come upon. Or, it was genuine compassion for Demetrius himself. She had cared for him a little in Taengea, bonded with him during their return journey, and respected him all the more for the love and devotion he paid to the redhaired girl that had been lost to him for so many years. She did not wish to see the woman that Demetrius loved so much fall to illness over her worry for him. It would be a second injury upon a man who had already suffered much in her stewardship.
It didn't occur to Persephone that any injury or wound she might inflict upon these two people was slight compared to the suffrage they had been forced to endure so far. But that was simply her naive upbringing, safe in the security of her own wealth and loving family.
Persephone knew what Olena meant when she spoke of the unknown being harder to accept than any reality - regardless of how bad the truth might be. There was a certain tension and fear in the uncertainty that no tragedy could quite meet. She wondered if, perhaps, this was why her mind had been so quick to believe that Emilia had died in the raid upon the palati. For even as sorrowful as bereavement was, it was perhaps less painful than not knowing the young girl's fate.
She was, Persephone decided, not as brave or sturdy as Olena.
Squeezing the woman's fingers in her hands, Persephone looked up at the knock upon the door and witnessed Ariadne take possession of a delivery at the door. When she shifted the portal closed, she turned with a small tray, cup and compresses laying upon its surface. Persephone's smile was bright as it returned to her face, reminded of Ariadne's generous and caring nature.
Ari came closer with the proffered tray and offered up a cup of ginger tea. Olena seemed to still require the hand that pressed to her middle, so Persephone reached and took the cup for her, ready to offer it into her grasp when she was ready. It was only as the redhead was looking to take the cup that Chrysanthe spoke.
The tone of her advice was sweet and light, her expression open and innocent. But the words themselves suddenly hung in the air like anvils of severity. The atmosphere grew thick, the room small. Persephone looked to Olena with sharp and assessing eyes. She drew the ginger tea away a little at Chrysanthe's advice, as if she sought confirmation from the girl before she insisted on drinking it.
"Olena?" She asked. There was such significance on the name that she needed to say little more, her gaze seeking the truth from Olena's eyes on whether or not a pregnancy was possible... For only she knew the secrets of her own womanly body.
The words were indeed heavy in the air, unable to really think about what she was saying. Her hand dropped down to her belly, to the space that was there. It was flat, filling out from the steady supply of decent food. And yet, she could barely keep anything down. She had reasoned that it was from the heavy foods she was not used to. Or that it was her inability to think of a life without Dima.
Never had she considered pregnancy.
She thought back to the first time, to the child she had lost days after losing its father. She had never known the gender, had never given the child a name. In her grief, it had been taken away and buried secretly with its father. Olena never really mourned the child, because she was shipped off only a few days after she recovered. It was better that way, she assumed-- less time to grieve.
Now, it was with a man she truly loved. But he could be dead, too. It could be a repeat of the past. What if this was the last piece of Dima she would ever have? What if he was dead, too? Would she be well enough this time for the baby not to follow? Tears came to the corners of her eyes as she looked at the woman in the room. Hands came up to her breast, surprised that the ache in them hadn’t been noticed before. They felt larger, too, swollen with the change that was happening within her body.
Her gaze stopped on Chrysanthe, cheeks flushing at how simple the answer had been. “My monthly has never been consistent.” She said simply, feeling like she should explain why she had missed such an obvious answer. “Stress, I think.” Her shoulder shrugged, hand dropping back down to her belly. Panic was filling her, but she tried to play it off.
What if she lost this one, too?
“Are your ladies allowed to be pregnant without being formally married, my queen?” She asked, suddenly worried about her future. About the Queen’s position and about what would happen to her. Would she be turned out onto the streets? Iason had told her that she would receive a Widow’s pension if Dima was, in fact, dead. But could he still offer that if she was pregnant? How much would this change her stars?
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Jul 18, 2020 18:48:29 GMT
Posted In All For One on Jul 18, 2020 18:48:29 GMT
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The words were indeed heavy in the air, unable to really think about what she was saying. Her hand dropped down to her belly, to the space that was there. It was flat, filling out from the steady supply of decent food. And yet, she could barely keep anything down. She had reasoned that it was from the heavy foods she was not used to. Or that it was her inability to think of a life without Dima.
Never had she considered pregnancy.
She thought back to the first time, to the child she had lost days after losing its father. She had never known the gender, had never given the child a name. In her grief, it had been taken away and buried secretly with its father. Olena never really mourned the child, because she was shipped off only a few days after she recovered. It was better that way, she assumed-- less time to grieve.
Now, it was with a man she truly loved. But he could be dead, too. It could be a repeat of the past. What if this was the last piece of Dima she would ever have? What if he was dead, too? Would she be well enough this time for the baby not to follow? Tears came to the corners of her eyes as she looked at the woman in the room. Hands came up to her breast, surprised that the ache in them hadn’t been noticed before. They felt larger, too, swollen with the change that was happening within her body.
Her gaze stopped on Chrysanthe, cheeks flushing at how simple the answer had been. “My monthly has never been consistent.” She said simply, feeling like she should explain why she had missed such an obvious answer. “Stress, I think.” Her shoulder shrugged, hand dropping back down to her belly. Panic was filling her, but she tried to play it off.
What if she lost this one, too?
“Are your ladies allowed to be pregnant without being formally married, my queen?” She asked, suddenly worried about her future. About the Queen’s position and about what would happen to her. Would she be turned out onto the streets? Iason had told her that she would receive a Widow’s pension if Dima was, in fact, dead. But could he still offer that if she was pregnant? How much would this change her stars?
The words were indeed heavy in the air, unable to really think about what she was saying. Her hand dropped down to her belly, to the space that was there. It was flat, filling out from the steady supply of decent food. And yet, she could barely keep anything down. She had reasoned that it was from the heavy foods she was not used to. Or that it was her inability to think of a life without Dima.
Never had she considered pregnancy.
She thought back to the first time, to the child she had lost days after losing its father. She had never known the gender, had never given the child a name. In her grief, it had been taken away and buried secretly with its father. Olena never really mourned the child, because she was shipped off only a few days after she recovered. It was better that way, she assumed-- less time to grieve.
Now, it was with a man she truly loved. But he could be dead, too. It could be a repeat of the past. What if this was the last piece of Dima she would ever have? What if he was dead, too? Would she be well enough this time for the baby not to follow? Tears came to the corners of her eyes as she looked at the woman in the room. Hands came up to her breast, surprised that the ache in them hadn’t been noticed before. They felt larger, too, swollen with the change that was happening within her body.
Her gaze stopped on Chrysanthe, cheeks flushing at how simple the answer had been. “My monthly has never been consistent.” She said simply, feeling like she should explain why she had missed such an obvious answer. “Stress, I think.” Her shoulder shrugged, hand dropping back down to her belly. Panic was filling her, but she tried to play it off.
What if she lost this one, too?
“Are your ladies allowed to be pregnant without being formally married, my queen?” She asked, suddenly worried about her future. About the Queen’s position and about what would happen to her. Would she be turned out onto the streets? Iason had told her that she would receive a Widow’s pension if Dima was, in fact, dead. But could he still offer that if she was pregnant? How much would this change her stars?
Ariadne had thought her suggestion of ginger tea hadn’t been a bad choice, but Chrysanthe’s words had her pause. The entire room seemed to stop as those words sunk in. She didn’t know Olena nor her story very well, but the father most certainly had to be the man that Olena was missing so much. Oh, how terrible to be facing so much uncertainty whilst carrying a child! She knew very little herself about childbearing, having only witnessed it from afar. Ari’s twin would be much better at knowing what to do. She had delivered babies as far as Ariadne knew. She would certainly know which remedies would make Olena feel better. Oh, what another level this brought to their precarious situation.
As Ariadne silently processed all of this, no expression changed on her face, but she looked to Persephone who she always followed when she was uncertain. Her queen was questioning Olena and Ariadne wished she could do something to take some of the pressure from the room. She was sure this was what none of them had been expecting to talk about, even Olena herself. From what Ariadne could tell, this news seemed like a shock to her as well.
The lady’s maid went to the door again, requesting that the servant now bring her a cup of peppermint tea. In either case, it would soothe and it seemed that soothing was exactly what was needed right now. Ariadne glanced at Chrysanthe, who was also watching the scene with intent. She didn’t know either of these women very well, but she was determined to be their friend, as they had been there for her mistress when she hadn’t been able. If they were needed to be there for Olena, then be there they would be.
Her heart ached as Olena considered the possibility, worrying over her own fate. Ari didn’t think that Persephone would ask her to leave her service—she was not the type to do so. Besides, she was queen now. She set the rules.
The tea arrived again as Persephone was giving her answer. Ariadne crossed the room, gently taking a seat on the other side of Olena, holding the glass ready, should she want to sip it. The slight girl set a hand upon Olena’s back, hoping to reassure her and offer some comfort. She didn’t know what fate held for them, but she would be here for it.
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Aug 13, 2020 12:38:42 GMT
Posted In All For One on Aug 13, 2020 12:38:42 GMT
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Ariadne had thought her suggestion of ginger tea hadn’t been a bad choice, but Chrysanthe’s words had her pause. The entire room seemed to stop as those words sunk in. She didn’t know Olena nor her story very well, but the father most certainly had to be the man that Olena was missing so much. Oh, how terrible to be facing so much uncertainty whilst carrying a child! She knew very little herself about childbearing, having only witnessed it from afar. Ari’s twin would be much better at knowing what to do. She had delivered babies as far as Ariadne knew. She would certainly know which remedies would make Olena feel better. Oh, what another level this brought to their precarious situation.
As Ariadne silently processed all of this, no expression changed on her face, but she looked to Persephone who she always followed when she was uncertain. Her queen was questioning Olena and Ariadne wished she could do something to take some of the pressure from the room. She was sure this was what none of them had been expecting to talk about, even Olena herself. From what Ariadne could tell, this news seemed like a shock to her as well.
The lady’s maid went to the door again, requesting that the servant now bring her a cup of peppermint tea. In either case, it would soothe and it seemed that soothing was exactly what was needed right now. Ariadne glanced at Chrysanthe, who was also watching the scene with intent. She didn’t know either of these women very well, but she was determined to be their friend, as they had been there for her mistress when she hadn’t been able. If they were needed to be there for Olena, then be there they would be.
Her heart ached as Olena considered the possibility, worrying over her own fate. Ari didn’t think that Persephone would ask her to leave her service—she was not the type to do so. Besides, she was queen now. She set the rules.
The tea arrived again as Persephone was giving her answer. Ariadne crossed the room, gently taking a seat on the other side of Olena, holding the glass ready, should she want to sip it. The slight girl set a hand upon Olena’s back, hoping to reassure her and offer some comfort. She didn’t know what fate held for them, but she would be here for it.
Ariadne had thought her suggestion of ginger tea hadn’t been a bad choice, but Chrysanthe’s words had her pause. The entire room seemed to stop as those words sunk in. She didn’t know Olena nor her story very well, but the father most certainly had to be the man that Olena was missing so much. Oh, how terrible to be facing so much uncertainty whilst carrying a child! She knew very little herself about childbearing, having only witnessed it from afar. Ari’s twin would be much better at knowing what to do. She had delivered babies as far as Ariadne knew. She would certainly know which remedies would make Olena feel better. Oh, what another level this brought to their precarious situation.
As Ariadne silently processed all of this, no expression changed on her face, but she looked to Persephone who she always followed when she was uncertain. Her queen was questioning Olena and Ariadne wished she could do something to take some of the pressure from the room. She was sure this was what none of them had been expecting to talk about, even Olena herself. From what Ariadne could tell, this news seemed like a shock to her as well.
The lady’s maid went to the door again, requesting that the servant now bring her a cup of peppermint tea. In either case, it would soothe and it seemed that soothing was exactly what was needed right now. Ariadne glanced at Chrysanthe, who was also watching the scene with intent. She didn’t know either of these women very well, but she was determined to be their friend, as they had been there for her mistress when she hadn’t been able. If they were needed to be there for Olena, then be there they would be.
Her heart ached as Olena considered the possibility, worrying over her own fate. Ari didn’t think that Persephone would ask her to leave her service—she was not the type to do so. Besides, she was queen now. She set the rules.
The tea arrived again as Persephone was giving her answer. Ariadne crossed the room, gently taking a seat on the other side of Olena, holding the glass ready, should she want to sip it. The slight girl set a hand upon Olena’s back, hoping to reassure her and offer some comfort. She didn’t know what fate held for them, but she would be here for it.
If Chrysanthe had known that Olena hadn’t known she was pregnant she never would have shared that with the group. If she had known that the condition wasn’t as obvious to everyone else as it was to her she would have wanted to have that conversation with Olena first. She was obviously having a hard time with Demetrius missing, and Chrysanthe didn’t want to do anything that might upset Olena further. She knew immediately upon speaking that she had said something wrong as Olena immediately stiffened and started spouting reasons why she hadn’t noticed.
Chrysanthe wanted to do anything that she could to help Olena feel better. And the only thing she could do here was provide some reassurance that Olena wasn’t completely silly. “It’s only natural that you might not have noticed. We’ve all had so many other things to think about.” First, they’d taken the trip to Athenia, and then Demetrius’s disappearance. It didn’t seem all that unreasonable that Olena might have missed out on the signs. “I’m sorry for just blurting it out, I should have checked with you first. I only thought maybe you just didn’t want to talk about it.” Chrysanthe felt bad for breaking the news like she had, but now that it was all out in the open they could figure out what needed to be done about it.
That Olena then had to ask if she still had a job was another thing that she had not taken into consideration before she had spoken. It had completely slipped her mind that Olena and Demetrius were not actually married as they had often acted like it. Besides, did it really matter when the child was conceived if the parents were married before the birth of the child? Of course, with Demetrius’s absence, that could pose a problem, but that was not something she would bring up to Olena now. She was worried enough about his absence as it was. Perhaps for the nobles this would matter more than she was used to. It often seemed to be the case that they cared much more about certain things than she expected.
Luckily, Ariadne had the presence of mind to replace the ginger tea with peppermint and help Olena with the cup. It was nice to have others she could rely on to help out. She had been so used to having to look out for herself and everyone else. It was nice to have people who all supported each other for a change. Olena was lucky, she was going to need all the support she could get.
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If Chrysanthe had known that Olena hadn’t known she was pregnant she never would have shared that with the group. If she had known that the condition wasn’t as obvious to everyone else as it was to her she would have wanted to have that conversation with Olena first. She was obviously having a hard time with Demetrius missing, and Chrysanthe didn’t want to do anything that might upset Olena further. She knew immediately upon speaking that she had said something wrong as Olena immediately stiffened and started spouting reasons why she hadn’t noticed.
Chrysanthe wanted to do anything that she could to help Olena feel better. And the only thing she could do here was provide some reassurance that Olena wasn’t completely silly. “It’s only natural that you might not have noticed. We’ve all had so many other things to think about.” First, they’d taken the trip to Athenia, and then Demetrius’s disappearance. It didn’t seem all that unreasonable that Olena might have missed out on the signs. “I’m sorry for just blurting it out, I should have checked with you first. I only thought maybe you just didn’t want to talk about it.” Chrysanthe felt bad for breaking the news like she had, but now that it was all out in the open they could figure out what needed to be done about it.
That Olena then had to ask if she still had a job was another thing that she had not taken into consideration before she had spoken. It had completely slipped her mind that Olena and Demetrius were not actually married as they had often acted like it. Besides, did it really matter when the child was conceived if the parents were married before the birth of the child? Of course, with Demetrius’s absence, that could pose a problem, but that was not something she would bring up to Olena now. She was worried enough about his absence as it was. Perhaps for the nobles this would matter more than she was used to. It often seemed to be the case that they cared much more about certain things than she expected.
Luckily, Ariadne had the presence of mind to replace the ginger tea with peppermint and help Olena with the cup. It was nice to have others she could rely on to help out. She had been so used to having to look out for herself and everyone else. It was nice to have people who all supported each other for a change. Olena was lucky, she was going to need all the support she could get.
If Chrysanthe had known that Olena hadn’t known she was pregnant she never would have shared that with the group. If she had known that the condition wasn’t as obvious to everyone else as it was to her she would have wanted to have that conversation with Olena first. She was obviously having a hard time with Demetrius missing, and Chrysanthe didn’t want to do anything that might upset Olena further. She knew immediately upon speaking that she had said something wrong as Olena immediately stiffened and started spouting reasons why she hadn’t noticed.
Chrysanthe wanted to do anything that she could to help Olena feel better. And the only thing she could do here was provide some reassurance that Olena wasn’t completely silly. “It’s only natural that you might not have noticed. We’ve all had so many other things to think about.” First, they’d taken the trip to Athenia, and then Demetrius’s disappearance. It didn’t seem all that unreasonable that Olena might have missed out on the signs. “I’m sorry for just blurting it out, I should have checked with you first. I only thought maybe you just didn’t want to talk about it.” Chrysanthe felt bad for breaking the news like she had, but now that it was all out in the open they could figure out what needed to be done about it.
That Olena then had to ask if she still had a job was another thing that she had not taken into consideration before she had spoken. It had completely slipped her mind that Olena and Demetrius were not actually married as they had often acted like it. Besides, did it really matter when the child was conceived if the parents were married before the birth of the child? Of course, with Demetrius’s absence, that could pose a problem, but that was not something she would bring up to Olena now. She was worried enough about his absence as it was. Perhaps for the nobles this would matter more than she was used to. It often seemed to be the case that they cared much more about certain things than she expected.
Luckily, Ariadne had the presence of mind to replace the ginger tea with peppermint and help Olena with the cup. It was nice to have others she could rely on to help out. She had been so used to having to look out for herself and everyone else. It was nice to have people who all supported each other for a change. Olena was lucky, she was going to need all the support she could get.
Persephone watched as Olena touched her own body... her waist, her breast... It was as if she were testing symptoms that she had not yet known herself to have. Chrysanthe's words had clearly been a sort of explosion in her mind, a frightening realisation of something that her biology had been trying to tell her over the last few weeks. Because, as the redhead looked up to meet Persephone's gaze, the young queen had no doubts that Olena was not certain of her findings. Regardless of an irregular monthly cycle or the theories of stress or worry over her stomach, it was clear now that the idea of pregnancy was a very real conclusion in Olena's mind. Chrysanthe's words had unlocked the possibility and journeyed her mind to where it needed to go. Now, she was already cemented on the idea of motherhood, her hand resting on her middle. Persephone wasn't even sure if the woman knew she was doing it.
Then Olena turned to Perse. She sought reassurance from the woman that had taken her in as a maid and given her a livelihood. Ariadne sat beside the redhead quietly, a cup in her hands, and Chrysanthe offered kind words from where she stood just a step away from the little group. Persephone reached out to take Olena's free hand, not disturbing the one that rested against her unborn child.
"Olena, I shall be honest with you because you are a woman of much courage." She told her. "It is not considered appropriate for a lady of high rank - a rank that you now claim as my lady's maid - to be with child outside of marriage." The words were serious and Persephone gave them the gravitas that they deserved. For it was important that Olena knew the truth.
The sheer tragic irony of it all was that if Demetrius had returned from delivering that letter, the paperwork would be finalised for their union and he and Olena would be married. Now, he had disappeared and was possibly dead, unable to come back and legitimise Olena's pregnancy.
Persephone's fingers tightened on Olena's hand.
"But let me be very clear, Olena." She told the woman, making sure that her bright eyes were fixed on hers before she continued speaking. "Whilst I cannot claim a true home, whatever haven I find in these coming weeks will be as much yours as it is mine." She glanced at the other two girls in the room. "The both of you are included in this. You three are loyal and devoted friends that I would not see lacking roof or food. You will be secure in your company with me. Until I have nothing left to give."
Persephone took a long and slow inhale before she looked back at Olena. Her fingers shook with the force of her words.
"And Demetrius will return, Olena." She assured the girl. Not a romantic person herself, Persephone did not necessarily believe what she was saying but she knew that her friend needed some optimism in this moment. And Persephone had enough courtly training to put the finest actors to shame. Not to mention the fact that her own hopes so desperately wanted to believe what her sense of realism wouldn't allow her to. "We will find him and bring him home. The two of you shall marry and have your baby. This child is a blessing to the two of you and whilst it has the world's most unfortunate timing-" She paused the smile in a little humour to break the tension in the room "-we shall not see it at a loss for that."
Olena's hand became nestled between both of Persephone's.
"Trust that you will be taken care of Olena. And that Demetrius will be so overjoyed when he returns to find not one but two souls waiting for him..."
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Aug 29, 2020 19:38:13 GMT
Posted In All For One on Aug 29, 2020 19:38:13 GMT
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Persephone watched as Olena touched her own body... her waist, her breast... It was as if she were testing symptoms that she had not yet known herself to have. Chrysanthe's words had clearly been a sort of explosion in her mind, a frightening realisation of something that her biology had been trying to tell her over the last few weeks. Because, as the redhead looked up to meet Persephone's gaze, the young queen had no doubts that Olena was not certain of her findings. Regardless of an irregular monthly cycle or the theories of stress or worry over her stomach, it was clear now that the idea of pregnancy was a very real conclusion in Olena's mind. Chrysanthe's words had unlocked the possibility and journeyed her mind to where it needed to go. Now, she was already cemented on the idea of motherhood, her hand resting on her middle. Persephone wasn't even sure if the woman knew she was doing it.
Then Olena turned to Perse. She sought reassurance from the woman that had taken her in as a maid and given her a livelihood. Ariadne sat beside the redhead quietly, a cup in her hands, and Chrysanthe offered kind words from where she stood just a step away from the little group. Persephone reached out to take Olena's free hand, not disturbing the one that rested against her unborn child.
"Olena, I shall be honest with you because you are a woman of much courage." She told her. "It is not considered appropriate for a lady of high rank - a rank that you now claim as my lady's maid - to be with child outside of marriage." The words were serious and Persephone gave them the gravitas that they deserved. For it was important that Olena knew the truth.
The sheer tragic irony of it all was that if Demetrius had returned from delivering that letter, the paperwork would be finalised for their union and he and Olena would be married. Now, he had disappeared and was possibly dead, unable to come back and legitimise Olena's pregnancy.
Persephone's fingers tightened on Olena's hand.
"But let me be very clear, Olena." She told the woman, making sure that her bright eyes were fixed on hers before she continued speaking. "Whilst I cannot claim a true home, whatever haven I find in these coming weeks will be as much yours as it is mine." She glanced at the other two girls in the room. "The both of you are included in this. You three are loyal and devoted friends that I would not see lacking roof or food. You will be secure in your company with me. Until I have nothing left to give."
Persephone took a long and slow inhale before she looked back at Olena. Her fingers shook with the force of her words.
"And Demetrius will return, Olena." She assured the girl. Not a romantic person herself, Persephone did not necessarily believe what she was saying but she knew that her friend needed some optimism in this moment. And Persephone had enough courtly training to put the finest actors to shame. Not to mention the fact that her own hopes so desperately wanted to believe what her sense of realism wouldn't allow her to. "We will find him and bring him home. The two of you shall marry and have your baby. This child is a blessing to the two of you and whilst it has the world's most unfortunate timing-" She paused the smile in a little humour to break the tension in the room "-we shall not see it at a loss for that."
Olena's hand became nestled between both of Persephone's.
"Trust that you will be taken care of Olena. And that Demetrius will be so overjoyed when he returns to find not one but two souls waiting for him..."
Persephone watched as Olena touched her own body... her waist, her breast... It was as if she were testing symptoms that she had not yet known herself to have. Chrysanthe's words had clearly been a sort of explosion in her mind, a frightening realisation of something that her biology had been trying to tell her over the last few weeks. Because, as the redhead looked up to meet Persephone's gaze, the young queen had no doubts that Olena was not certain of her findings. Regardless of an irregular monthly cycle or the theories of stress or worry over her stomach, it was clear now that the idea of pregnancy was a very real conclusion in Olena's mind. Chrysanthe's words had unlocked the possibility and journeyed her mind to where it needed to go. Now, she was already cemented on the idea of motherhood, her hand resting on her middle. Persephone wasn't even sure if the woman knew she was doing it.
Then Olena turned to Perse. She sought reassurance from the woman that had taken her in as a maid and given her a livelihood. Ariadne sat beside the redhead quietly, a cup in her hands, and Chrysanthe offered kind words from where she stood just a step away from the little group. Persephone reached out to take Olena's free hand, not disturbing the one that rested against her unborn child.
"Olena, I shall be honest with you because you are a woman of much courage." She told her. "It is not considered appropriate for a lady of high rank - a rank that you now claim as my lady's maid - to be with child outside of marriage." The words were serious and Persephone gave them the gravitas that they deserved. For it was important that Olena knew the truth.
The sheer tragic irony of it all was that if Demetrius had returned from delivering that letter, the paperwork would be finalised for their union and he and Olena would be married. Now, he had disappeared and was possibly dead, unable to come back and legitimise Olena's pregnancy.
Persephone's fingers tightened on Olena's hand.
"But let me be very clear, Olena." She told the woman, making sure that her bright eyes were fixed on hers before she continued speaking. "Whilst I cannot claim a true home, whatever haven I find in these coming weeks will be as much yours as it is mine." She glanced at the other two girls in the room. "The both of you are included in this. You three are loyal and devoted friends that I would not see lacking roof or food. You will be secure in your company with me. Until I have nothing left to give."
Persephone took a long and slow inhale before she looked back at Olena. Her fingers shook with the force of her words.
"And Demetrius will return, Olena." She assured the girl. Not a romantic person herself, Persephone did not necessarily believe what she was saying but she knew that her friend needed some optimism in this moment. And Persephone had enough courtly training to put the finest actors to shame. Not to mention the fact that her own hopes so desperately wanted to believe what her sense of realism wouldn't allow her to. "We will find him and bring him home. The two of you shall marry and have your baby. This child is a blessing to the two of you and whilst it has the world's most unfortunate timing-" She paused the smile in a little humour to break the tension in the room "-we shall not see it at a loss for that."
Olena's hand became nestled between both of Persephone's.
"Trust that you will be taken care of Olena. And that Demetrius will be so overjoyed when he returns to find not one but two souls waiting for him..."
Her emotions were all over the place now. On one hand, she was truly overjoyed at the prospect of carrying a child. And she felt a little silly that she hadn’t recognized the signs, as similar as they were before. It had been a surprise then, too. But she had been far more aware of her body, aware of her cycles to try and prevent the very thing that happened. Now, with her hand slowly dancing over the flat surface, there was a bit more joy in it this time.
The last time, she had been with a man who owned her. Now, she was with one who consumed her very soul-- a man she had loved from the moment she learned what love meant. This child would be very wanted, would know its place in the hearts of her parents.
And yet, there was the daunting feeling of potentially having to do this alone.
How could she be even slightly excited for the news when she had no idea as to the location of his father? Her eyes drifted to the floor, wondering why the Gods seemed to get as much joy as toying with her fate as they did. Wasn’t there another they could torment? What had she done to hear such focus? Would their son grow up not knowing Dima?
How could she be happy when she was alone?
The words of Persephone were heavy, the realization that she could not be a maid while also pregnant and unwed. It was absolutely as she feared-- she was in this wholly alone, with little to rely on. She didn’t want to end up on her back again, even if it was of her own free will this time. The chances of running into the men she had escaped was far too great. Panic started to settle into her chest, the same kind that had overtaken her the day Dima had first left.
But she then spoke again, forcing her glassy green eyes to meet that of the Queen’s. Her words, said with such earnest passion, brought a sob to her throat. It was as if the Queen could hear her thoughts, knew just how impossible everything felt. And with a firm promise, her mind set at ease just a tad. Quietly thanking Ariadne, she took the cup of tea and sipped it slowly. Persephone came back around to her, telling her that he would return, that they would find him.
“Perhaps he can be found before it shows.” She said softly, her hand tight within the Queen’s. “You Greeks like all the material and high waists are of fashion-- I am sure that I have time, yes?” She asked, eyes drifting back between the two other girls. Perhaps it was time she told them more of herself, but she didn’t want to seem foolish. After all, she had carried the child of a powerful man, a married man, and the Gods had taken both from her in what she thought was punishment. She was unsure if this was the time to bring it up.
Instead, she sipped the tea, unable to stop the way her head fell onto Persephone’s shoulder. “I do not know what I will do if he is not found, Persephone.” She had such a hard time keeping up with the formality, and it felt safe to drop it within these walls. “I have just got him back after more than 15 years. I do not like this.” She said, allowing herself to find comfort in the woman with her today. Without Dima, how would she breath? How could she bring a child into a world where he didn’t exist?
How would she survive?
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Sept 14, 2020 3:45:05 GMT
Posted In All For One on Sept 14, 2020 3:45:05 GMT
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Her emotions were all over the place now. On one hand, she was truly overjoyed at the prospect of carrying a child. And she felt a little silly that she hadn’t recognized the signs, as similar as they were before. It had been a surprise then, too. But she had been far more aware of her body, aware of her cycles to try and prevent the very thing that happened. Now, with her hand slowly dancing over the flat surface, there was a bit more joy in it this time.
The last time, she had been with a man who owned her. Now, she was with one who consumed her very soul-- a man she had loved from the moment she learned what love meant. This child would be very wanted, would know its place in the hearts of her parents.
And yet, there was the daunting feeling of potentially having to do this alone.
How could she be even slightly excited for the news when she had no idea as to the location of his father? Her eyes drifted to the floor, wondering why the Gods seemed to get as much joy as toying with her fate as they did. Wasn’t there another they could torment? What had she done to hear such focus? Would their son grow up not knowing Dima?
How could she be happy when she was alone?
The words of Persephone were heavy, the realization that she could not be a maid while also pregnant and unwed. It was absolutely as she feared-- she was in this wholly alone, with little to rely on. She didn’t want to end up on her back again, even if it was of her own free will this time. The chances of running into the men she had escaped was far too great. Panic started to settle into her chest, the same kind that had overtaken her the day Dima had first left.
But she then spoke again, forcing her glassy green eyes to meet that of the Queen’s. Her words, said with such earnest passion, brought a sob to her throat. It was as if the Queen could hear her thoughts, knew just how impossible everything felt. And with a firm promise, her mind set at ease just a tad. Quietly thanking Ariadne, she took the cup of tea and sipped it slowly. Persephone came back around to her, telling her that he would return, that they would find him.
“Perhaps he can be found before it shows.” She said softly, her hand tight within the Queen’s. “You Greeks like all the material and high waists are of fashion-- I am sure that I have time, yes?” She asked, eyes drifting back between the two other girls. Perhaps it was time she told them more of herself, but she didn’t want to seem foolish. After all, she had carried the child of a powerful man, a married man, and the Gods had taken both from her in what she thought was punishment. She was unsure if this was the time to bring it up.
Instead, she sipped the tea, unable to stop the way her head fell onto Persephone’s shoulder. “I do not know what I will do if he is not found, Persephone.” She had such a hard time keeping up with the formality, and it felt safe to drop it within these walls. “I have just got him back after more than 15 years. I do not like this.” She said, allowing herself to find comfort in the woman with her today. Without Dima, how would she breath? How could she bring a child into a world where he didn’t exist?
How would she survive?
Her emotions were all over the place now. On one hand, she was truly overjoyed at the prospect of carrying a child. And she felt a little silly that she hadn’t recognized the signs, as similar as they were before. It had been a surprise then, too. But she had been far more aware of her body, aware of her cycles to try and prevent the very thing that happened. Now, with her hand slowly dancing over the flat surface, there was a bit more joy in it this time.
The last time, she had been with a man who owned her. Now, she was with one who consumed her very soul-- a man she had loved from the moment she learned what love meant. This child would be very wanted, would know its place in the hearts of her parents.
And yet, there was the daunting feeling of potentially having to do this alone.
How could she be even slightly excited for the news when she had no idea as to the location of his father? Her eyes drifted to the floor, wondering why the Gods seemed to get as much joy as toying with her fate as they did. Wasn’t there another they could torment? What had she done to hear such focus? Would their son grow up not knowing Dima?
How could she be happy when she was alone?
The words of Persephone were heavy, the realization that she could not be a maid while also pregnant and unwed. It was absolutely as she feared-- she was in this wholly alone, with little to rely on. She didn’t want to end up on her back again, even if it was of her own free will this time. The chances of running into the men she had escaped was far too great. Panic started to settle into her chest, the same kind that had overtaken her the day Dima had first left.
But she then spoke again, forcing her glassy green eyes to meet that of the Queen’s. Her words, said with such earnest passion, brought a sob to her throat. It was as if the Queen could hear her thoughts, knew just how impossible everything felt. And with a firm promise, her mind set at ease just a tad. Quietly thanking Ariadne, she took the cup of tea and sipped it slowly. Persephone came back around to her, telling her that he would return, that they would find him.
“Perhaps he can be found before it shows.” She said softly, her hand tight within the Queen’s. “You Greeks like all the material and high waists are of fashion-- I am sure that I have time, yes?” She asked, eyes drifting back between the two other girls. Perhaps it was time she told them more of herself, but she didn’t want to seem foolish. After all, she had carried the child of a powerful man, a married man, and the Gods had taken both from her in what she thought was punishment. She was unsure if this was the time to bring it up.
Instead, she sipped the tea, unable to stop the way her head fell onto Persephone’s shoulder. “I do not know what I will do if he is not found, Persephone.” She had such a hard time keeping up with the formality, and it felt safe to drop it within these walls. “I have just got him back after more than 15 years. I do not like this.” She said, allowing herself to find comfort in the woman with her today. Without Dima, how would she breath? How could she bring a child into a world where he didn’t exist?
How would she survive?
There was so much that Ariadne still had to learn about this situation, but it was in her nature to nurture and comfort as much as possible. That had always been the role she had played in life. Her sister would patch people up and Ariadne would make them feel better. It was just something she was good at. Throughout her life, she had often wondered whether or not she had inherited that trait from her mother. Now, she realized that she had too many questions about her mother that she would simply never know the answers to.
For so long, she had thought her father held the keys to the mystery, but last fall he had revealed otherwise. In fact, for many weeks she had doubted whether or not he even was her father…however, that aside, she learned that he held very few answers about her mother. Ariadne was still coming to grips that she might never find those answers and the thought made her sad. She wished desperately that Olena and Dima’s child would get to know them both. It was only fair. Even though she didn’t know the two of them well, one not at all, she didn’t wish the pain of the past year on anyone. Their child deserved to know both of his or her parents.
She sat quietly on Olena’s other side, listening as Persephone answered the woman’s question. She knew that Persephone would first be serious, but she was also kind. Kinder than most people at court. She would find a way for Olena to stay with them. Or at least take care of Olena if she couldn’t serve as a lady’s maid. Though if Ariadne was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure what kind of title any of them held anymore. She was still reeling from the sight of Persephone alive that she had no idea what was next for them all. There had been some whispered talks of fighting back, but she had yet to collect all of the details. There simply had been no time. There was a great chance that Persephone was only here to collect her sister and leave, back to Taengea. Ariadne knew deep down that it couldn’t be true, but she was still waiting for proof otherwise.
Then came Persephone’s words of reassurance to which Ariadne returned with a smile, even though she was deeply uncertain of what their future might hold. She knew what Persephone intended to take care of them, but where had she been these past few months? She had left Athenia. Of course, it was for her safety, but Ariadne had returned to the safe harbor of her father’s home. That was where she knew she was safest.
It was odd for her to have such conflicting feelings after all of her worry over Persephone’s disappearance. However, she still had so many questions and her mind wouldn’t settle until she learned answers. For now, however, all she could do was hold a cup of tea and gently clutch Olena’s hand.
“Yes, we have many outfits that will keep the babe hidden for a time longer,” Ariadne jumped in, answering Olena’s question. She would commission them all herself if she had to. She wished that there was more she could do, but all she could do was spare a helpless glance to Chrysanthe. What were the two of them to do? How could they help?
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There was so much that Ariadne still had to learn about this situation, but it was in her nature to nurture and comfort as much as possible. That had always been the role she had played in life. Her sister would patch people up and Ariadne would make them feel better. It was just something she was good at. Throughout her life, she had often wondered whether or not she had inherited that trait from her mother. Now, she realized that she had too many questions about her mother that she would simply never know the answers to.
For so long, she had thought her father held the keys to the mystery, but last fall he had revealed otherwise. In fact, for many weeks she had doubted whether or not he even was her father…however, that aside, she learned that he held very few answers about her mother. Ariadne was still coming to grips that she might never find those answers and the thought made her sad. She wished desperately that Olena and Dima’s child would get to know them both. It was only fair. Even though she didn’t know the two of them well, one not at all, she didn’t wish the pain of the past year on anyone. Their child deserved to know both of his or her parents.
She sat quietly on Olena’s other side, listening as Persephone answered the woman’s question. She knew that Persephone would first be serious, but she was also kind. Kinder than most people at court. She would find a way for Olena to stay with them. Or at least take care of Olena if she couldn’t serve as a lady’s maid. Though if Ariadne was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure what kind of title any of them held anymore. She was still reeling from the sight of Persephone alive that she had no idea what was next for them all. There had been some whispered talks of fighting back, but she had yet to collect all of the details. There simply had been no time. There was a great chance that Persephone was only here to collect her sister and leave, back to Taengea. Ariadne knew deep down that it couldn’t be true, but she was still waiting for proof otherwise.
Then came Persephone’s words of reassurance to which Ariadne returned with a smile, even though she was deeply uncertain of what their future might hold. She knew what Persephone intended to take care of them, but where had she been these past few months? She had left Athenia. Of course, it was for her safety, but Ariadne had returned to the safe harbor of her father’s home. That was where she knew she was safest.
It was odd for her to have such conflicting feelings after all of her worry over Persephone’s disappearance. However, she still had so many questions and her mind wouldn’t settle until she learned answers. For now, however, all she could do was hold a cup of tea and gently clutch Olena’s hand.
“Yes, we have many outfits that will keep the babe hidden for a time longer,” Ariadne jumped in, answering Olena’s question. She would commission them all herself if she had to. She wished that there was more she could do, but all she could do was spare a helpless glance to Chrysanthe. What were the two of them to do? How could they help?
There was so much that Ariadne still had to learn about this situation, but it was in her nature to nurture and comfort as much as possible. That had always been the role she had played in life. Her sister would patch people up and Ariadne would make them feel better. It was just something she was good at. Throughout her life, she had often wondered whether or not she had inherited that trait from her mother. Now, she realized that she had too many questions about her mother that she would simply never know the answers to.
For so long, she had thought her father held the keys to the mystery, but last fall he had revealed otherwise. In fact, for many weeks she had doubted whether or not he even was her father…however, that aside, she learned that he held very few answers about her mother. Ariadne was still coming to grips that she might never find those answers and the thought made her sad. She wished desperately that Olena and Dima’s child would get to know them both. It was only fair. Even though she didn’t know the two of them well, one not at all, she didn’t wish the pain of the past year on anyone. Their child deserved to know both of his or her parents.
She sat quietly on Olena’s other side, listening as Persephone answered the woman’s question. She knew that Persephone would first be serious, but she was also kind. Kinder than most people at court. She would find a way for Olena to stay with them. Or at least take care of Olena if she couldn’t serve as a lady’s maid. Though if Ariadne was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure what kind of title any of them held anymore. She was still reeling from the sight of Persephone alive that she had no idea what was next for them all. There had been some whispered talks of fighting back, but she had yet to collect all of the details. There simply had been no time. There was a great chance that Persephone was only here to collect her sister and leave, back to Taengea. Ariadne knew deep down that it couldn’t be true, but she was still waiting for proof otherwise.
Then came Persephone’s words of reassurance to which Ariadne returned with a smile, even though she was deeply uncertain of what their future might hold. She knew what Persephone intended to take care of them, but where had she been these past few months? She had left Athenia. Of course, it was for her safety, but Ariadne had returned to the safe harbor of her father’s home. That was where she knew she was safest.
It was odd for her to have such conflicting feelings after all of her worry over Persephone’s disappearance. However, she still had so many questions and her mind wouldn’t settle until she learned answers. For now, however, all she could do was hold a cup of tea and gently clutch Olena’s hand.
“Yes, we have many outfits that will keep the babe hidden for a time longer,” Ariadne jumped in, answering Olena’s question. She would commission them all herself if she had to. She wished that there was more she could do, but all she could do was spare a helpless glance to Chrysanthe. What were the two of them to do? How could they help?
When Olena turned to Perse for answers, Chrysanthe watched carefully to see her reaction. This was the woman whose fortune she had tied her own to. She had to know that she had chosen well, not that it mattered at this point. What was she going to do? Wander off and hope that some other kind rich person would hire her to sew their clothing? The fact that it had happened once was pure luck, the second would be downright miraculous.
Perse, however, didn’t seem like one to tell half truths, but at the same time, managed to make even the most desperate news sound hopeful. Chrysanthe wasn’t sure how she managed it, but what would have been a desperate situation for anyone was one that Perse handled with grace and poise. She managed to give hope to Olena, even where Chrysanthe wasn’t sure there was any to give.
Chrysanthe shared a glance with Ariadne. She didn’t know the best way to help here. Once the baby was here, she knew what to do. She had dealt with several babies that had been abandoned at the foundlings home where she had grown up. Hiding a pregnancy, or dealing with the disappearance of the man that she had meant to marry, that she was less certain about. For a moment, she considered the solution that Olena might be able to find another eligible man to marry that would be willing to claim the baby as his own. She quickly squashed that thought before it came out of her mouth. Such a thought would crush Olena, who was not yet willing to admit that Demetrius might be dead. Besides, they were right. They could buy time by hiding the pregnancy, which meant that such topics could be delayed until a more appropriate, or perhaps more desperate, time.
No, Ariadne was right, there were ways to buy more time. “I’m good with gathering fabric to make it look more voluminous. I think I know how to sew a skirt to make it look like it’s supposed to have extra volume without actually having that volume there. Kind of a fake ruffle.” That would be enough to help hide a growing pregnancy. “I should have plenty of plenty of time to practice and get it right anyway.” That was something Chrysanthe could do to make things better, even if it didn’t solve the problem of Demetrius being gone entirely.
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When Olena turned to Perse for answers, Chrysanthe watched carefully to see her reaction. This was the woman whose fortune she had tied her own to. She had to know that she had chosen well, not that it mattered at this point. What was she going to do? Wander off and hope that some other kind rich person would hire her to sew their clothing? The fact that it had happened once was pure luck, the second would be downright miraculous.
Perse, however, didn’t seem like one to tell half truths, but at the same time, managed to make even the most desperate news sound hopeful. Chrysanthe wasn’t sure how she managed it, but what would have been a desperate situation for anyone was one that Perse handled with grace and poise. She managed to give hope to Olena, even where Chrysanthe wasn’t sure there was any to give.
Chrysanthe shared a glance with Ariadne. She didn’t know the best way to help here. Once the baby was here, she knew what to do. She had dealt with several babies that had been abandoned at the foundlings home where she had grown up. Hiding a pregnancy, or dealing with the disappearance of the man that she had meant to marry, that she was less certain about. For a moment, she considered the solution that Olena might be able to find another eligible man to marry that would be willing to claim the baby as his own. She quickly squashed that thought before it came out of her mouth. Such a thought would crush Olena, who was not yet willing to admit that Demetrius might be dead. Besides, they were right. They could buy time by hiding the pregnancy, which meant that such topics could be delayed until a more appropriate, or perhaps more desperate, time.
No, Ariadne was right, there were ways to buy more time. “I’m good with gathering fabric to make it look more voluminous. I think I know how to sew a skirt to make it look like it’s supposed to have extra volume without actually having that volume there. Kind of a fake ruffle.” That would be enough to help hide a growing pregnancy. “I should have plenty of plenty of time to practice and get it right anyway.” That was something Chrysanthe could do to make things better, even if it didn’t solve the problem of Demetrius being gone entirely.
When Olena turned to Perse for answers, Chrysanthe watched carefully to see her reaction. This was the woman whose fortune she had tied her own to. She had to know that she had chosen well, not that it mattered at this point. What was she going to do? Wander off and hope that some other kind rich person would hire her to sew their clothing? The fact that it had happened once was pure luck, the second would be downright miraculous.
Perse, however, didn’t seem like one to tell half truths, but at the same time, managed to make even the most desperate news sound hopeful. Chrysanthe wasn’t sure how she managed it, but what would have been a desperate situation for anyone was one that Perse handled with grace and poise. She managed to give hope to Olena, even where Chrysanthe wasn’t sure there was any to give.
Chrysanthe shared a glance with Ariadne. She didn’t know the best way to help here. Once the baby was here, she knew what to do. She had dealt with several babies that had been abandoned at the foundlings home where she had grown up. Hiding a pregnancy, or dealing with the disappearance of the man that she had meant to marry, that she was less certain about. For a moment, she considered the solution that Olena might be able to find another eligible man to marry that would be willing to claim the baby as his own. She quickly squashed that thought before it came out of her mouth. Such a thought would crush Olena, who was not yet willing to admit that Demetrius might be dead. Besides, they were right. They could buy time by hiding the pregnancy, which meant that such topics could be delayed until a more appropriate, or perhaps more desperate, time.
No, Ariadne was right, there were ways to buy more time. “I’m good with gathering fabric to make it look more voluminous. I think I know how to sew a skirt to make it look like it’s supposed to have extra volume without actually having that volume there. Kind of a fake ruffle.” That would be enough to help hide a growing pregnancy. “I should have plenty of plenty of time to practice and get it right anyway.” That was something Chrysanthe could do to make things better, even if it didn’t solve the problem of Demetrius being gone entirely.
The ache in her heart grew deeper as each girl offered their support of her. There had been a feeling of utter loneliness since she had been captured as a child. Her life had been one of giggling bliss up until then, filled with sisters who would fight against each other but band together against a common struggle. It was something she hadn’t really considered in a long time, as she had buried them away with Veira when she had died.
But watching the women around her, she was taken back to that same feeling she had over a decade ago. For while she was in the service of the Queen, it seemed as if she really found herself in the care of a sisterhood. So while her head was swarming with feelings of loss and confusion, there was a small bit of hope as they spoke of the simplicity of hiding the child in the fabrics of her chitons. She tried to focus as the two shifted to techniques for laying the fabric, the Queen herself slipping her hand into Olena’s as the two others seemed to delve deeper into the types of fabrics they could use.
It was humbling to watch as they came together.
They spent the rest of the conversation trying to lighten her mood, but the results were futile. Exhaustion quickly soaked into her mind and her yawn was hard to mask. With her apologies, she excused herself from the group, needing time to gather her thoughts as to her future. Olena quietly thanked them, pressing a sisterly kiss to each of their cheeks before she vanished from the room. She wouldn’t kick them out of the room they had shared, instead taking to the room that had previously been hers with Dima. Settling into the bed, sorrow claimed her heart, stronger than the hope in that moment.
With a sob, she buried her face in his pillow and cried herself to sleep.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The ache in her heart grew deeper as each girl offered their support of her. There had been a feeling of utter loneliness since she had been captured as a child. Her life had been one of giggling bliss up until then, filled with sisters who would fight against each other but band together against a common struggle. It was something she hadn’t really considered in a long time, as she had buried them away with Veira when she had died.
But watching the women around her, she was taken back to that same feeling she had over a decade ago. For while she was in the service of the Queen, it seemed as if she really found herself in the care of a sisterhood. So while her head was swarming with feelings of loss and confusion, there was a small bit of hope as they spoke of the simplicity of hiding the child in the fabrics of her chitons. She tried to focus as the two shifted to techniques for laying the fabric, the Queen herself slipping her hand into Olena’s as the two others seemed to delve deeper into the types of fabrics they could use.
It was humbling to watch as they came together.
They spent the rest of the conversation trying to lighten her mood, but the results were futile. Exhaustion quickly soaked into her mind and her yawn was hard to mask. With her apologies, she excused herself from the group, needing time to gather her thoughts as to her future. Olena quietly thanked them, pressing a sisterly kiss to each of their cheeks before she vanished from the room. She wouldn’t kick them out of the room they had shared, instead taking to the room that had previously been hers with Dima. Settling into the bed, sorrow claimed her heart, stronger than the hope in that moment.
With a sob, she buried her face in his pillow and cried herself to sleep.
The ache in her heart grew deeper as each girl offered their support of her. There had been a feeling of utter loneliness since she had been captured as a child. Her life had been one of giggling bliss up until then, filled with sisters who would fight against each other but band together against a common struggle. It was something she hadn’t really considered in a long time, as she had buried them away with Veira when she had died.
But watching the women around her, she was taken back to that same feeling she had over a decade ago. For while she was in the service of the Queen, it seemed as if she really found herself in the care of a sisterhood. So while her head was swarming with feelings of loss and confusion, there was a small bit of hope as they spoke of the simplicity of hiding the child in the fabrics of her chitons. She tried to focus as the two shifted to techniques for laying the fabric, the Queen herself slipping her hand into Olena’s as the two others seemed to delve deeper into the types of fabrics they could use.
It was humbling to watch as they came together.
They spent the rest of the conversation trying to lighten her mood, but the results were futile. Exhaustion quickly soaked into her mind and her yawn was hard to mask. With her apologies, she excused herself from the group, needing time to gather her thoughts as to her future. Olena quietly thanked them, pressing a sisterly kiss to each of their cheeks before she vanished from the room. She wouldn’t kick them out of the room they had shared, instead taking to the room that had previously been hers with Dima. Settling into the bed, sorrow claimed her heart, stronger than the hope in that moment.
With a sob, she buried her face in his pillow and cried herself to sleep.
