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Though a prince, the man was still quite young. Only a few years a man, young Tython was very aware that he still had much to learn, but he was even more sure that much responsibility lay across his shoulders. Such was the mantle he wore as the Crown Prince of Colchis. That said, the boy still held his own rebellious streak. A quiet one, but one, nevertheless. Such was normal for a man of good breeding as even future kings needed to find themselves, and sometimes that meant going out of a normal comfort zone. A young man who had known little else but battle and training, save for the company of a woman on more than one occasion, Tython was constantly in search of anything that could help him find both calm and peace.
On this night, the crown prince had snuck into his parent's stores of wine. King Silas and Queen Kaiti had found themselves on an excursion to another province and would not find themselves back until two days hence. That left Prince Tython in charge, and by extension, Princess Tythra in his care and under his thumb. The young princess was good to do as she pleased. She was allowed a little bit of wine with supper, as was usual in Greece, but never enough to turn her head so sharply that she was ill the next morning. Tython himself generally preferred water, but he found himself looking at some of the favored bottles of his parent's stock in his father's study and had decided that he wanted to try one of the many vintages that night.
Pulling it off the shelf, Tython had settled into his father's study with the intention of reading up on military missives and the extra bits of work that King Silas had left for him to do by the time that he returned from his small vacation into the mountains. Not one to refuse King Silas anything and always wanting to be the dutiful son, Tython was intent on getting right to it, having poured himself a glass of the wine as his gaze scanned the intelligence from the Northern Lands.
These were items that needed to be observed often, as the Northern Lands had been his usual battleground for a number of years. Bringing his cup to his lips, he took the first few sips of the wine, pausing, if only to note the strange taste of the wine. It was a taste that he was not used to, but that was not unpleasant. Still, the prince stared into the cup for a rather long time, attempting to place the taste but being yet unable to by the time the door of King Silas' study opened and his younger sister bounced into the room. "Tythra," Tython greeted casually in his usual, just warm enough manner.
Tythra knew she was loved, but he didn't need to show it every second. "Come to watch me struggle over missives?" he asked with odd humor in his voice.
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Though a prince, the man was still quite young. Only a few years a man, young Tython was very aware that he still had much to learn, but he was even more sure that much responsibility lay across his shoulders. Such was the mantle he wore as the Crown Prince of Colchis. That said, the boy still held his own rebellious streak. A quiet one, but one, nevertheless. Such was normal for a man of good breeding as even future kings needed to find themselves, and sometimes that meant going out of a normal comfort zone. A young man who had known little else but battle and training, save for the company of a woman on more than one occasion, Tython was constantly in search of anything that could help him find both calm and peace.
On this night, the crown prince had snuck into his parent's stores of wine. King Silas and Queen Kaiti had found themselves on an excursion to another province and would not find themselves back until two days hence. That left Prince Tython in charge, and by extension, Princess Tythra in his care and under his thumb. The young princess was good to do as she pleased. She was allowed a little bit of wine with supper, as was usual in Greece, but never enough to turn her head so sharply that she was ill the next morning. Tython himself generally preferred water, but he found himself looking at some of the favored bottles of his parent's stock in his father's study and had decided that he wanted to try one of the many vintages that night.
Pulling it off the shelf, Tython had settled into his father's study with the intention of reading up on military missives and the extra bits of work that King Silas had left for him to do by the time that he returned from his small vacation into the mountains. Not one to refuse King Silas anything and always wanting to be the dutiful son, Tython was intent on getting right to it, having poured himself a glass of the wine as his gaze scanned the intelligence from the Northern Lands.
These were items that needed to be observed often, as the Northern Lands had been his usual battleground for a number of years. Bringing his cup to his lips, he took the first few sips of the wine, pausing, if only to note the strange taste of the wine. It was a taste that he was not used to, but that was not unpleasant. Still, the prince stared into the cup for a rather long time, attempting to place the taste but being yet unable to by the time the door of King Silas' study opened and his younger sister bounced into the room. "Tythra," Tython greeted casually in his usual, just warm enough manner.
Tythra knew she was loved, but he didn't need to show it every second. "Come to watch me struggle over missives?" he asked with odd humor in his voice.
Though a prince, the man was still quite young. Only a few years a man, young Tython was very aware that he still had much to learn, but he was even more sure that much responsibility lay across his shoulders. Such was the mantle he wore as the Crown Prince of Colchis. That said, the boy still held his own rebellious streak. A quiet one, but one, nevertheless. Such was normal for a man of good breeding as even future kings needed to find themselves, and sometimes that meant going out of a normal comfort zone. A young man who had known little else but battle and training, save for the company of a woman on more than one occasion, Tython was constantly in search of anything that could help him find both calm and peace.
On this night, the crown prince had snuck into his parent's stores of wine. King Silas and Queen Kaiti had found themselves on an excursion to another province and would not find themselves back until two days hence. That left Prince Tython in charge, and by extension, Princess Tythra in his care and under his thumb. The young princess was good to do as she pleased. She was allowed a little bit of wine with supper, as was usual in Greece, but never enough to turn her head so sharply that she was ill the next morning. Tython himself generally preferred water, but he found himself looking at some of the favored bottles of his parent's stock in his father's study and had decided that he wanted to try one of the many vintages that night.
Pulling it off the shelf, Tython had settled into his father's study with the intention of reading up on military missives and the extra bits of work that King Silas had left for him to do by the time that he returned from his small vacation into the mountains. Not one to refuse King Silas anything and always wanting to be the dutiful son, Tython was intent on getting right to it, having poured himself a glass of the wine as his gaze scanned the intelligence from the Northern Lands.
These were items that needed to be observed often, as the Northern Lands had been his usual battleground for a number of years. Bringing his cup to his lips, he took the first few sips of the wine, pausing, if only to note the strange taste of the wine. It was a taste that he was not used to, but that was not unpleasant. Still, the prince stared into the cup for a rather long time, attempting to place the taste but being yet unable to by the time the door of King Silas' study opened and his younger sister bounced into the room. "Tythra," Tython greeted casually in his usual, just warm enough manner.
Tythra knew she was loved, but he didn't need to show it every second. "Come to watch me struggle over missives?" he asked with odd humor in his voice.
It was not unusual for the Queen and King to be called away from the manor. But Tythra loathed the fact that every time they went her brother was in charge. From a political standpoint, it made sense. He was the Crown Prince so of course, he had responsibilities and duties that befitted such a title. But from a familial standpoint… well, Tythra was old enough to not need anyone in charge. If men were adults at twelve, so too should women be! It was unfair otherwise.
Luckily her elder brother understood just that. She did what she wanted with no effort to stop her. (Tython would have failed anyhow. She marched to the beat of her own drum.) It was often, anyhow, that what Tythra wanted to do aligned with what her parents expected to her. She was always eager to learn, especially when it came to politics and the economy. She eagerly listened to her tutors, doing well to research her questions before finally coming to them with it. And when Tythra’s desires didn’t align with what her parents wanted of her… well, they didn’t very well know it did they?
Which was why the siblings were such a brilliant pair. Tython was able to quiet Tythra’s more obnoxious rebellions and shield them from their parent’s eyes… and Tythra added color and personality to Tython’s misdeeds. What better partner’s in crime than Tython and Tythra of Kotas?
After annoying and even stumping her tutors with her more complicated questions, Tythra spent the rest of the day running and shopping around the capital. She took one of her ladies, ignoring the false compliments she fed the Princess and the insincere flattery. Instead, Tythra chose to pretend like they were friends, no matter how empty the sentiment truly was. And it was fun, almost. Until halfway through Tythra got so annoyed by the girl’s attempts to suck up to the Princess. With no brother to keep her from doing wrong, Tythra had asked the girl if she could fetch them something from a stall, and left her there alone having to find her own way back to the manor as evening began to fall. Scandal is damned, Tythra’s mood was now foul.
It remained that way as she wanded the halls of the manor, looking for her brother and best friend (the only friend, really) to cheer her up. Finally, she had found him in their father’s study. “Watch you struggle? You say it like that’s something new, brother.” Tythra teased as she moved to one of her father’s couches, collapsing onto it. She let out a groan, pinching the bridge of her nose as she laid on it. “I don’t know why I keep taking Lady Jacinta to the market. She’s a terrible companion.” Tythra whined, “You should have joined me instead.”
Tythra sat up and looked at her brother for real this time. Oh, he was enjoying wine! Tythra liked wine. She had a bit with dinner, but never anything that made her improper. She stood up and took her brother’s mug to sniff it. “Oh, this doesn’t smell like the ones that are served at dinner.” She stole a tentative sip of his wine. “It tastes good!” It was… odd. But it wasn’t unpleasant. That being said, Tythra didn’t really know what good wine was. She just liked to pretend she knew. “Is there more? I want some!”
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It was not unusual for the Queen and King to be called away from the manor. But Tythra loathed the fact that every time they went her brother was in charge. From a political standpoint, it made sense. He was the Crown Prince so of course, he had responsibilities and duties that befitted such a title. But from a familial standpoint… well, Tythra was old enough to not need anyone in charge. If men were adults at twelve, so too should women be! It was unfair otherwise.
Luckily her elder brother understood just that. She did what she wanted with no effort to stop her. (Tython would have failed anyhow. She marched to the beat of her own drum.) It was often, anyhow, that what Tythra wanted to do aligned with what her parents expected to her. She was always eager to learn, especially when it came to politics and the economy. She eagerly listened to her tutors, doing well to research her questions before finally coming to them with it. And when Tythra’s desires didn’t align with what her parents wanted of her… well, they didn’t very well know it did they?
Which was why the siblings were such a brilliant pair. Tython was able to quiet Tythra’s more obnoxious rebellions and shield them from their parent’s eyes… and Tythra added color and personality to Tython’s misdeeds. What better partner’s in crime than Tython and Tythra of Kotas?
After annoying and even stumping her tutors with her more complicated questions, Tythra spent the rest of the day running and shopping around the capital. She took one of her ladies, ignoring the false compliments she fed the Princess and the insincere flattery. Instead, Tythra chose to pretend like they were friends, no matter how empty the sentiment truly was. And it was fun, almost. Until halfway through Tythra got so annoyed by the girl’s attempts to suck up to the Princess. With no brother to keep her from doing wrong, Tythra had asked the girl if she could fetch them something from a stall, and left her there alone having to find her own way back to the manor as evening began to fall. Scandal is damned, Tythra’s mood was now foul.
It remained that way as she wanded the halls of the manor, looking for her brother and best friend (the only friend, really) to cheer her up. Finally, she had found him in their father’s study. “Watch you struggle? You say it like that’s something new, brother.” Tythra teased as she moved to one of her father’s couches, collapsing onto it. She let out a groan, pinching the bridge of her nose as she laid on it. “I don’t know why I keep taking Lady Jacinta to the market. She’s a terrible companion.” Tythra whined, “You should have joined me instead.”
Tythra sat up and looked at her brother for real this time. Oh, he was enjoying wine! Tythra liked wine. She had a bit with dinner, but never anything that made her improper. She stood up and took her brother’s mug to sniff it. “Oh, this doesn’t smell like the ones that are served at dinner.” She stole a tentative sip of his wine. “It tastes good!” It was… odd. But it wasn’t unpleasant. That being said, Tythra didn’t really know what good wine was. She just liked to pretend she knew. “Is there more? I want some!”
It was not unusual for the Queen and King to be called away from the manor. But Tythra loathed the fact that every time they went her brother was in charge. From a political standpoint, it made sense. He was the Crown Prince so of course, he had responsibilities and duties that befitted such a title. But from a familial standpoint… well, Tythra was old enough to not need anyone in charge. If men were adults at twelve, so too should women be! It was unfair otherwise.
Luckily her elder brother understood just that. She did what she wanted with no effort to stop her. (Tython would have failed anyhow. She marched to the beat of her own drum.) It was often, anyhow, that what Tythra wanted to do aligned with what her parents expected to her. She was always eager to learn, especially when it came to politics and the economy. She eagerly listened to her tutors, doing well to research her questions before finally coming to them with it. And when Tythra’s desires didn’t align with what her parents wanted of her… well, they didn’t very well know it did they?
Which was why the siblings were such a brilliant pair. Tython was able to quiet Tythra’s more obnoxious rebellions and shield them from their parent’s eyes… and Tythra added color and personality to Tython’s misdeeds. What better partner’s in crime than Tython and Tythra of Kotas?
After annoying and even stumping her tutors with her more complicated questions, Tythra spent the rest of the day running and shopping around the capital. She took one of her ladies, ignoring the false compliments she fed the Princess and the insincere flattery. Instead, Tythra chose to pretend like they were friends, no matter how empty the sentiment truly was. And it was fun, almost. Until halfway through Tythra got so annoyed by the girl’s attempts to suck up to the Princess. With no brother to keep her from doing wrong, Tythra had asked the girl if she could fetch them something from a stall, and left her there alone having to find her own way back to the manor as evening began to fall. Scandal is damned, Tythra’s mood was now foul.
It remained that way as she wanded the halls of the manor, looking for her brother and best friend (the only friend, really) to cheer her up. Finally, she had found him in their father’s study. “Watch you struggle? You say it like that’s something new, brother.” Tythra teased as she moved to one of her father’s couches, collapsing onto it. She let out a groan, pinching the bridge of her nose as she laid on it. “I don’t know why I keep taking Lady Jacinta to the market. She’s a terrible companion.” Tythra whined, “You should have joined me instead.”
Tythra sat up and looked at her brother for real this time. Oh, he was enjoying wine! Tythra liked wine. She had a bit with dinner, but never anything that made her improper. She stood up and took her brother’s mug to sniff it. “Oh, this doesn’t smell like the ones that are served at dinner.” She stole a tentative sip of his wine. “It tastes good!” It was… odd. But it wasn’t unpleasant. That being said, Tythra didn’t really know what good wine was. She just liked to pretend she knew. “Is there more? I want some!”
Tython snorted at his sister's faith in himself, gazing down at the papyrus in front of him without looking up at her. Here would be a good place for his overly dry humor, especially because she had both teased him and quietly insulted him at the same time. Did he take it as an insult? Absolutely not. He liked Tythra's jabbing. It never bothered him. They thought so similarly in terms of their senses of humor (of which could be blamed on King Silas) that Tython actually found it amusing over anything else. The prince lifted an eyebrow at his little sister at the sound of her complaining and he carefully reached forward to set the missive he was reading down.
"You say that every single time you go out with her," the young man said slowly, "What does that tell you about your choice of company? If you don't like her, find a new retainer," Tython shrugged lightly, "Someone not so apt to kiss up to you constantly," even he made a face now. His few interactions with Lady Jacinta were much the same as Tythra's. Boring. Annoying. And he would escape every single chance that he got. The young lady would have been a good match for him politically... but he knew that Tythra would never venture that far in aiding her lady, and Tython would not be able to spend a lifetime with someone that watched him as if she were constantly starstruck.
Absolutely not. Honestly, shoving the lady off on another noble would benefit both Prince and Princess, though it felt a little haughty to lump himself in with his sister's problems.
"If I had the time, I would have joined you," Tython said honestly, "I wanted to find a new himation, anyway. Next time you go to market, I'll attend with you," he promised quietly, reaching for his wine. Tythra picked it up before he could, though, and he was immediately on his feet, unsure if it was such a good idea for Tythra to sample the vintage. Especially because there was something so odd about it. He could feel his limbs getting just the slightest bit heavy, which was normal for wine, but it usually happen this quickly.
Reaching out, Tython shook his head. "It isn't the same. I snuck it from dad's stock," he said lightly, "It tastes different and I'm not particularly sure there isn't a strange reason to account for it. When Tythra declared that she wanted more, Tython let his mouth set into a bit of a frown. "I don't know that that is a good idea. We're not having supper yet," the prince pointed out. "If mother knew I let you have wine outside of dinner, she would have my hide, Tythra," Tython made a motion that was meant to insist that his sister return the mug to him. "And she always seems to know when I let you run wild." Crown Prince he was, but his mother could still smell his bullshit from a mile away. Queen Kaiti would know in an instant, and that was what Tython didn't want to deal with.
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Tython snorted at his sister's faith in himself, gazing down at the papyrus in front of him without looking up at her. Here would be a good place for his overly dry humor, especially because she had both teased him and quietly insulted him at the same time. Did he take it as an insult? Absolutely not. He liked Tythra's jabbing. It never bothered him. They thought so similarly in terms of their senses of humor (of which could be blamed on King Silas) that Tython actually found it amusing over anything else. The prince lifted an eyebrow at his little sister at the sound of her complaining and he carefully reached forward to set the missive he was reading down.
"You say that every single time you go out with her," the young man said slowly, "What does that tell you about your choice of company? If you don't like her, find a new retainer," Tython shrugged lightly, "Someone not so apt to kiss up to you constantly," even he made a face now. His few interactions with Lady Jacinta were much the same as Tythra's. Boring. Annoying. And he would escape every single chance that he got. The young lady would have been a good match for him politically... but he knew that Tythra would never venture that far in aiding her lady, and Tython would not be able to spend a lifetime with someone that watched him as if she were constantly starstruck.
Absolutely not. Honestly, shoving the lady off on another noble would benefit both Prince and Princess, though it felt a little haughty to lump himself in with his sister's problems.
"If I had the time, I would have joined you," Tython said honestly, "I wanted to find a new himation, anyway. Next time you go to market, I'll attend with you," he promised quietly, reaching for his wine. Tythra picked it up before he could, though, and he was immediately on his feet, unsure if it was such a good idea for Tythra to sample the vintage. Especially because there was something so odd about it. He could feel his limbs getting just the slightest bit heavy, which was normal for wine, but it usually happen this quickly.
Reaching out, Tython shook his head. "It isn't the same. I snuck it from dad's stock," he said lightly, "It tastes different and I'm not particularly sure there isn't a strange reason to account for it. When Tythra declared that she wanted more, Tython let his mouth set into a bit of a frown. "I don't know that that is a good idea. We're not having supper yet," the prince pointed out. "If mother knew I let you have wine outside of dinner, she would have my hide, Tythra," Tython made a motion that was meant to insist that his sister return the mug to him. "And she always seems to know when I let you run wild." Crown Prince he was, but his mother could still smell his bullshit from a mile away. Queen Kaiti would know in an instant, and that was what Tython didn't want to deal with.
Tython snorted at his sister's faith in himself, gazing down at the papyrus in front of him without looking up at her. Here would be a good place for his overly dry humor, especially because she had both teased him and quietly insulted him at the same time. Did he take it as an insult? Absolutely not. He liked Tythra's jabbing. It never bothered him. They thought so similarly in terms of their senses of humor (of which could be blamed on King Silas) that Tython actually found it amusing over anything else. The prince lifted an eyebrow at his little sister at the sound of her complaining and he carefully reached forward to set the missive he was reading down.
"You say that every single time you go out with her," the young man said slowly, "What does that tell you about your choice of company? If you don't like her, find a new retainer," Tython shrugged lightly, "Someone not so apt to kiss up to you constantly," even he made a face now. His few interactions with Lady Jacinta were much the same as Tythra's. Boring. Annoying. And he would escape every single chance that he got. The young lady would have been a good match for him politically... but he knew that Tythra would never venture that far in aiding her lady, and Tython would not be able to spend a lifetime with someone that watched him as if she were constantly starstruck.
Absolutely not. Honestly, shoving the lady off on another noble would benefit both Prince and Princess, though it felt a little haughty to lump himself in with his sister's problems.
"If I had the time, I would have joined you," Tython said honestly, "I wanted to find a new himation, anyway. Next time you go to market, I'll attend with you," he promised quietly, reaching for his wine. Tythra picked it up before he could, though, and he was immediately on his feet, unsure if it was such a good idea for Tythra to sample the vintage. Especially because there was something so odd about it. He could feel his limbs getting just the slightest bit heavy, which was normal for wine, but it usually happen this quickly.
Reaching out, Tython shook his head. "It isn't the same. I snuck it from dad's stock," he said lightly, "It tastes different and I'm not particularly sure there isn't a strange reason to account for it. When Tythra declared that she wanted more, Tython let his mouth set into a bit of a frown. "I don't know that that is a good idea. We're not having supper yet," the prince pointed out. "If mother knew I let you have wine outside of dinner, she would have my hide, Tythra," Tython made a motion that was meant to insist that his sister return the mug to him. "And she always seems to know when I let you run wild." Crown Prince he was, but his mother could still smell his bullshit from a mile away. Queen Kaiti would know in an instant, and that was what Tython didn't want to deal with.
Tython didn't understand the nuances of females, bless his heart. Tythra couldn't simply get a new retainer. This one gossiped enough about the Princess as is. Just imagine if she was let go of her company? Tythra had much better things to do than deal with the ramification of false rumors spreading amongst the nobles. He just wouldn't understand. Boys were so stupid! Even if that boy happened to be her brother.
The Princess at least perked up when her brother said he would join her at the market. That wouldn't be near as bad. Dare Tythra admit it, it would even be fun. Tython was Tythra's best friend, and one of three people (The other two being her parents) that she could wholeheartedly trust. Maybe they could make a day out of it! Could she pull Tython away for that long?
That excitement quickly went away when her spoil-sport brother reared his ugly head. I don't know that is a good idea. We're not having supper yet. How boring! Tythra wasn't asking to get drunk off this wine! She just wanted a small mug to herself. Honestly, a cup now and a mug at dinner would not do her any harm.
"I'm not running wild, Tython." Tythra took one last sip and put the cup down. "I am a proper Princess. Even my tutor agrees! She hasn't taught me anything I haven't already learned in terms of etiquette." Tythra sniffed. Hmph. Run wild? Her?
Truth be told, anytime Tythra did anything rebellious, which was more often than a proper lady should, her mother seemed to hunt her like a bloodhound. If she so much as put a toe out of line, her mother and her eerie sense tracked Tythra down and bent her back into shape. Queen Kaiti was not a force to be reckoned with. She could make nations surrender and bow down with a single raise of her eyebrow.
Hm. This is odd. Tythra felt a tingling on her fingertips. The thirteen-year old's eyebrows furrowed, and she moved back to the couch. Her parents liked strong stuff it seemed. Two ore three large sips, and Tythra was feeling kind of... funny. Was this normal? Tythra never felt like this before. Was she drunk? She saw drunk people before, and she didn't think this was what it felt like. Shouldn't she be louder if she was drunk? Besides, it wouldn't be this quick. Right?
"So," Tythra said, grabbing one of the pillows on the couch and hugging it to her chest. It was warm and soft. Cozy. "Question. Let's pretend I did run wild. Does that mean you're the one in trouble and not me? That's what that means, right? Because you're in charge."
Tythra began to run her thumb over her fingertips. It was a really weird feeling. Like she was numb, but she wasn't. It was almost... silly. Tythra wanted to giggle, but Kotas shouldn't giggle. That wasn't very stoic of them. Kotas had to appear all tough. And so, with her straightest face and toughest voice, Tythra said one more thing.
"Mom's gonna kill you."
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Tython didn't understand the nuances of females, bless his heart. Tythra couldn't simply get a new retainer. This one gossiped enough about the Princess as is. Just imagine if she was let go of her company? Tythra had much better things to do than deal with the ramification of false rumors spreading amongst the nobles. He just wouldn't understand. Boys were so stupid! Even if that boy happened to be her brother.
The Princess at least perked up when her brother said he would join her at the market. That wouldn't be near as bad. Dare Tythra admit it, it would even be fun. Tython was Tythra's best friend, and one of three people (The other two being her parents) that she could wholeheartedly trust. Maybe they could make a day out of it! Could she pull Tython away for that long?
That excitement quickly went away when her spoil-sport brother reared his ugly head. I don't know that is a good idea. We're not having supper yet. How boring! Tythra wasn't asking to get drunk off this wine! She just wanted a small mug to herself. Honestly, a cup now and a mug at dinner would not do her any harm.
"I'm not running wild, Tython." Tythra took one last sip and put the cup down. "I am a proper Princess. Even my tutor agrees! She hasn't taught me anything I haven't already learned in terms of etiquette." Tythra sniffed. Hmph. Run wild? Her?
Truth be told, anytime Tythra did anything rebellious, which was more often than a proper lady should, her mother seemed to hunt her like a bloodhound. If she so much as put a toe out of line, her mother and her eerie sense tracked Tythra down and bent her back into shape. Queen Kaiti was not a force to be reckoned with. She could make nations surrender and bow down with a single raise of her eyebrow.
Hm. This is odd. Tythra felt a tingling on her fingertips. The thirteen-year old's eyebrows furrowed, and she moved back to the couch. Her parents liked strong stuff it seemed. Two ore three large sips, and Tythra was feeling kind of... funny. Was this normal? Tythra never felt like this before. Was she drunk? She saw drunk people before, and she didn't think this was what it felt like. Shouldn't she be louder if she was drunk? Besides, it wouldn't be this quick. Right?
"So," Tythra said, grabbing one of the pillows on the couch and hugging it to her chest. It was warm and soft. Cozy. "Question. Let's pretend I did run wild. Does that mean you're the one in trouble and not me? That's what that means, right? Because you're in charge."
Tythra began to run her thumb over her fingertips. It was a really weird feeling. Like she was numb, but she wasn't. It was almost... silly. Tythra wanted to giggle, but Kotas shouldn't giggle. That wasn't very stoic of them. Kotas had to appear all tough. And so, with her straightest face and toughest voice, Tythra said one more thing.
"Mom's gonna kill you."
Tython didn't understand the nuances of females, bless his heart. Tythra couldn't simply get a new retainer. This one gossiped enough about the Princess as is. Just imagine if she was let go of her company? Tythra had much better things to do than deal with the ramification of false rumors spreading amongst the nobles. He just wouldn't understand. Boys were so stupid! Even if that boy happened to be her brother.
The Princess at least perked up when her brother said he would join her at the market. That wouldn't be near as bad. Dare Tythra admit it, it would even be fun. Tython was Tythra's best friend, and one of three people (The other two being her parents) that she could wholeheartedly trust. Maybe they could make a day out of it! Could she pull Tython away for that long?
That excitement quickly went away when her spoil-sport brother reared his ugly head. I don't know that is a good idea. We're not having supper yet. How boring! Tythra wasn't asking to get drunk off this wine! She just wanted a small mug to herself. Honestly, a cup now and a mug at dinner would not do her any harm.
"I'm not running wild, Tython." Tythra took one last sip and put the cup down. "I am a proper Princess. Even my tutor agrees! She hasn't taught me anything I haven't already learned in terms of etiquette." Tythra sniffed. Hmph. Run wild? Her?
Truth be told, anytime Tythra did anything rebellious, which was more often than a proper lady should, her mother seemed to hunt her like a bloodhound. If she so much as put a toe out of line, her mother and her eerie sense tracked Tythra down and bent her back into shape. Queen Kaiti was not a force to be reckoned with. She could make nations surrender and bow down with a single raise of her eyebrow.
Hm. This is odd. Tythra felt a tingling on her fingertips. The thirteen-year old's eyebrows furrowed, and she moved back to the couch. Her parents liked strong stuff it seemed. Two ore three large sips, and Tythra was feeling kind of... funny. Was this normal? Tythra never felt like this before. Was she drunk? She saw drunk people before, and she didn't think this was what it felt like. Shouldn't she be louder if she was drunk? Besides, it wouldn't be this quick. Right?
"So," Tythra said, grabbing one of the pillows on the couch and hugging it to her chest. It was warm and soft. Cozy. "Question. Let's pretend I did run wild. Does that mean you're the one in trouble and not me? That's what that means, right? Because you're in charge."
Tythra began to run her thumb over her fingertips. It was a really weird feeling. Like she was numb, but she wasn't. It was almost... silly. Tythra wanted to giggle, but Kotas shouldn't giggle. That wasn't very stoic of them. Kotas had to appear all tough. And so, with her straightest face and toughest voice, Tythra said one more thing.
"Mom's gonna kill you."
"Mother knows damn well that I am less strict with you than she or father is," Tython pointed out calmly. Gods above, he felt... infinitely calm. Like the world was slowing a bit, making his entire body relax. He paused to look at his hand, wondering if he'd grown another pinky finger, but seeing nothing out of place. He took another sip of his own wine, trying to figure out what that extra taste was. It was so odd. Unlike most of the wines that he'd tasted before. He could remember Kaiti giving him a wine that made him sleep once, but that tasted somewhat different than this.
"And you do run wild when you think you can get away with it," the young prince complained quietly, "Then servants like your retainer tell mother or father and I do end up in trouble for it. You just never see it," Tython said snarkily, reaching for the cup that she had set down so that he could pull it closer to himself once she had moved to the chaise. He eyed her as she grabbed one of the pillows, wondering how long it would take for her to throw it right at his face.
At least it would be soft if it hit him.
But he was more interested in the forced tough-girl demeanor that his little sister suddenly took on as the minutes passed. Leaning back in the King's chair, he reached forward and set his stylus down, continuing to eye her as she seemed to pick out her words carefully. They were the wrong words, not the ones he wanted to hear. Yet, since he was starting to feel floaty and relaxed, he didn't really have the desire or the need to tell her to run her ass down the hall before he caught up to her.
"Mom won't kill me," Tython snorted at his sister, tipping his head back so that he was staring up at the ceiling, "Because then the Thanasi would hold the throne," he continued pointedly, rolling his eyes. As much as he liked his aunt, he couldn't imagine a Thanasi on the thone. Admittedly, he couldn't imagine anyone on the throne but a Kotas. "Mom might make my life hell, but she wouldn't kill me. But she might you if you keep talking back," the prince groused. "What in Hades is in this wine?" he suddenly snapped, not sure he liked how it made his head feel.
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"Mother knows damn well that I am less strict with you than she or father is," Tython pointed out calmly. Gods above, he felt... infinitely calm. Like the world was slowing a bit, making his entire body relax. He paused to look at his hand, wondering if he'd grown another pinky finger, but seeing nothing out of place. He took another sip of his own wine, trying to figure out what that extra taste was. It was so odd. Unlike most of the wines that he'd tasted before. He could remember Kaiti giving him a wine that made him sleep once, but that tasted somewhat different than this.
"And you do run wild when you think you can get away with it," the young prince complained quietly, "Then servants like your retainer tell mother or father and I do end up in trouble for it. You just never see it," Tython said snarkily, reaching for the cup that she had set down so that he could pull it closer to himself once she had moved to the chaise. He eyed her as she grabbed one of the pillows, wondering how long it would take for her to throw it right at his face.
At least it would be soft if it hit him.
But he was more interested in the forced tough-girl demeanor that his little sister suddenly took on as the minutes passed. Leaning back in the King's chair, he reached forward and set his stylus down, continuing to eye her as she seemed to pick out her words carefully. They were the wrong words, not the ones he wanted to hear. Yet, since he was starting to feel floaty and relaxed, he didn't really have the desire or the need to tell her to run her ass down the hall before he caught up to her.
"Mom won't kill me," Tython snorted at his sister, tipping his head back so that he was staring up at the ceiling, "Because then the Thanasi would hold the throne," he continued pointedly, rolling his eyes. As much as he liked his aunt, he couldn't imagine a Thanasi on the thone. Admittedly, he couldn't imagine anyone on the throne but a Kotas. "Mom might make my life hell, but she wouldn't kill me. But she might you if you keep talking back," the prince groused. "What in Hades is in this wine?" he suddenly snapped, not sure he liked how it made his head feel.
"Mother knows damn well that I am less strict with you than she or father is," Tython pointed out calmly. Gods above, he felt... infinitely calm. Like the world was slowing a bit, making his entire body relax. He paused to look at his hand, wondering if he'd grown another pinky finger, but seeing nothing out of place. He took another sip of his own wine, trying to figure out what that extra taste was. It was so odd. Unlike most of the wines that he'd tasted before. He could remember Kaiti giving him a wine that made him sleep once, but that tasted somewhat different than this.
"And you do run wild when you think you can get away with it," the young prince complained quietly, "Then servants like your retainer tell mother or father and I do end up in trouble for it. You just never see it," Tython said snarkily, reaching for the cup that she had set down so that he could pull it closer to himself once she had moved to the chaise. He eyed her as she grabbed one of the pillows, wondering how long it would take for her to throw it right at his face.
At least it would be soft if it hit him.
But he was more interested in the forced tough-girl demeanor that his little sister suddenly took on as the minutes passed. Leaning back in the King's chair, he reached forward and set his stylus down, continuing to eye her as she seemed to pick out her words carefully. They were the wrong words, not the ones he wanted to hear. Yet, since he was starting to feel floaty and relaxed, he didn't really have the desire or the need to tell her to run her ass down the hall before he caught up to her.
"Mom won't kill me," Tython snorted at his sister, tipping his head back so that he was staring up at the ceiling, "Because then the Thanasi would hold the throne," he continued pointedly, rolling his eyes. As much as he liked his aunt, he couldn't imagine a Thanasi on the thone. Admittedly, he couldn't imagine anyone on the throne but a Kotas. "Mom might make my life hell, but she wouldn't kill me. But she might you if you keep talking back," the prince groused. "What in Hades is in this wine?" he suddenly snapped, not sure he liked how it made his head feel.
Tythra wanted to throw the pillow. In any other circumstance, she would have. It’s not as if she hadn’t thrown things at her brother before. He deserved it a lot. She might love him, but he was an older brother and thus, by definition, a pain. But right now the pillow was so comfortable. And throwing it just… took too much energy. She’d rather just sit here, hugging the pillow, and stare.
She felt calm.
Tythra didn’t often feel calm like this. She felt annoyed quite often. She felt excited quite often. She felt every other feeling under the planet but calm. Her mother would always tell her to calm herself, but that only annoyed the girl, it didn’t calm her. The feeling was typically so boring. But right now… right now it was pretty good. She could feel like this forever.
And Tython kept droning on and on and on. Tythra supposed she should listen to her brother, but the girl had so much trouble listening to people. Her father called her stubborn, and that was true. Tythra was very stubborn. She just had to be right and even if she was wrong she refused to believe otherwise. She was a brat, Tythra could admit it. She certainly heard it enough from her parents. But she was a hardworking brat, something they failed to bring up in their lectures. That was why she struggled to listen. If you’re going to insult her, at least acknowledge what she is completely.
Oh, right. Her brother was still talking.
Mom might make my life hell, but she wouldn’t kill me. But she might kill you if you keep talking back.
“If mom was going to kill me for talking back she would have killed me ages ago,” Tythra propped her chin with the pillow staring at her brother. Everything felt like jelly. Was it normal to feel like jelly? Gods, now she was hungry thinking about that. Dinner hadn’t even happened yet!
“Also dad wouldn’t let mom kill me. I’m his favorite,” Tythra announced. “He told me so last week. He also told me I shouldn’t tell you, but he should have known better.” Of course, Tythra would brag about that to Tython. What was she, stupid?
Tythra suddenly laid back on the couch so she too was staring at the ceiling. She never took the time to study the ceiling in her father’s office. It was a lovely color. It had intricate carvings in the wood that must have taken forever to complete. “Why do people decide to carve wood, do you think? Like… commoners get to pick their jobs, right? Do they just think that wood carving is fun so they’ll do that? But then why do people farm? Farming isn’t fun right?” Tythra’s life was chosen for her simply by being born a Kotas. She’d marry some Prince or Lord. Be Queen or Lady somewhere. Have children. Die rich. That was her life. But commoners had the freedom to choose right? So why did they choose so… horribly?
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Tythra wanted to throw the pillow. In any other circumstance, she would have. It’s not as if she hadn’t thrown things at her brother before. He deserved it a lot. She might love him, but he was an older brother and thus, by definition, a pain. But right now the pillow was so comfortable. And throwing it just… took too much energy. She’d rather just sit here, hugging the pillow, and stare.
She felt calm.
Tythra didn’t often feel calm like this. She felt annoyed quite often. She felt excited quite often. She felt every other feeling under the planet but calm. Her mother would always tell her to calm herself, but that only annoyed the girl, it didn’t calm her. The feeling was typically so boring. But right now… right now it was pretty good. She could feel like this forever.
And Tython kept droning on and on and on. Tythra supposed she should listen to her brother, but the girl had so much trouble listening to people. Her father called her stubborn, and that was true. Tythra was very stubborn. She just had to be right and even if she was wrong she refused to believe otherwise. She was a brat, Tythra could admit it. She certainly heard it enough from her parents. But she was a hardworking brat, something they failed to bring up in their lectures. That was why she struggled to listen. If you’re going to insult her, at least acknowledge what she is completely.
Oh, right. Her brother was still talking.
Mom might make my life hell, but she wouldn’t kill me. But she might kill you if you keep talking back.
“If mom was going to kill me for talking back she would have killed me ages ago,” Tythra propped her chin with the pillow staring at her brother. Everything felt like jelly. Was it normal to feel like jelly? Gods, now she was hungry thinking about that. Dinner hadn’t even happened yet!
“Also dad wouldn’t let mom kill me. I’m his favorite,” Tythra announced. “He told me so last week. He also told me I shouldn’t tell you, but he should have known better.” Of course, Tythra would brag about that to Tython. What was she, stupid?
Tythra suddenly laid back on the couch so she too was staring at the ceiling. She never took the time to study the ceiling in her father’s office. It was a lovely color. It had intricate carvings in the wood that must have taken forever to complete. “Why do people decide to carve wood, do you think? Like… commoners get to pick their jobs, right? Do they just think that wood carving is fun so they’ll do that? But then why do people farm? Farming isn’t fun right?” Tythra’s life was chosen for her simply by being born a Kotas. She’d marry some Prince or Lord. Be Queen or Lady somewhere. Have children. Die rich. That was her life. But commoners had the freedom to choose right? So why did they choose so… horribly?
Tythra wanted to throw the pillow. In any other circumstance, she would have. It’s not as if she hadn’t thrown things at her brother before. He deserved it a lot. She might love him, but he was an older brother and thus, by definition, a pain. But right now the pillow was so comfortable. And throwing it just… took too much energy. She’d rather just sit here, hugging the pillow, and stare.
She felt calm.
Tythra didn’t often feel calm like this. She felt annoyed quite often. She felt excited quite often. She felt every other feeling under the planet but calm. Her mother would always tell her to calm herself, but that only annoyed the girl, it didn’t calm her. The feeling was typically so boring. But right now… right now it was pretty good. She could feel like this forever.
And Tython kept droning on and on and on. Tythra supposed she should listen to her brother, but the girl had so much trouble listening to people. Her father called her stubborn, and that was true. Tythra was very stubborn. She just had to be right and even if she was wrong she refused to believe otherwise. She was a brat, Tythra could admit it. She certainly heard it enough from her parents. But she was a hardworking brat, something they failed to bring up in their lectures. That was why she struggled to listen. If you’re going to insult her, at least acknowledge what she is completely.
Oh, right. Her brother was still talking.
Mom might make my life hell, but she wouldn’t kill me. But she might kill you if you keep talking back.
“If mom was going to kill me for talking back she would have killed me ages ago,” Tythra propped her chin with the pillow staring at her brother. Everything felt like jelly. Was it normal to feel like jelly? Gods, now she was hungry thinking about that. Dinner hadn’t even happened yet!
“Also dad wouldn’t let mom kill me. I’m his favorite,” Tythra announced. “He told me so last week. He also told me I shouldn’t tell you, but he should have known better.” Of course, Tythra would brag about that to Tython. What was she, stupid?
Tythra suddenly laid back on the couch so she too was staring at the ceiling. She never took the time to study the ceiling in her father’s office. It was a lovely color. It had intricate carvings in the wood that must have taken forever to complete. “Why do people decide to carve wood, do you think? Like… commoners get to pick their jobs, right? Do they just think that wood carving is fun so they’ll do that? But then why do people farm? Farming isn’t fun right?” Tythra’s life was chosen for her simply by being born a Kotas. She’d marry some Prince or Lord. Be Queen or Lady somewhere. Have children. Die rich. That was her life. But commoners had the freedom to choose right? So why did they choose so… horribly?
Tython couldn't help himself. He snorted loudly at Tythra's words, a little too far gone to have a full argument with his sister. They were always so petty, and this profound feeling trailing through his limbs warranted a real fight. Then again, he felt too heavy to lift even a sword, so why did he have the urge to prove himself wrong? The young man brought his gaze back down from the ceiling, looking to the paperwork that he should have been intently focused on but failing to be able to read any of it with a shred of coherence.
"Uhhhhh..." Tython noted, shaking his head a little to see if he could shake any of his thoughts into making sense. They didn't, really, but the feeling was so peaceful that he didn't find himself panicking or feeling anxious about it. He rarely felt anxious as it was, but here he really didn't feel any sort of anxiety. It was hard to when all you felt was a supreme sort of calm that never faded.
"You aren't dad's favorite," he did manage to argue, though even his tongue felt heavy. Gods, he was starving and he could have taken the most comfortable nap ever.
It was her observation about the wood at the top of the ceiling that had Tython lifting his head again, really observing the ridges and the carvings. And then he laughed. Because that question was so profoundly funny but also mind-blowing that he couldn't initially wrap his head around it. Laughing seemed like the safest bet until he could gather any thoughts at all. "I really don't know. Farming has never sounded fun for me, but some people might actually enjoy it. Maybe it's just because they have so much knowledge on the subject that they feel most comfortable making their livings that way. I guess... in the same way that politicians and kings are trained from nearly birth to be good at talking and making laws and decisions," Tython shrugged, his nose scrunching a little.
"I can't imaging choosing wood carving as a past time," he noted, though he would be sorely surprised in the future when he actually did take it up as a way to calm his nerves. Tythra would look back on this conversation one day and laugh at him again.
Tython's mind quickly trailed away from the idea of wood carving and farming, his gaze falling on his all too-calm sister. A smirk trailed his lips. "I'm starving," he noted, "Do you think we might be able to raid the kitchens a little bit before they lay out supper? It's not supposed to be for another few hours yet, but I feel like I could eat an entire roast boar," the king hummed absently to himself, his stormy eyes mischievous in a way that they normally weren't. All Tython knew was that he liked this wine discovery, though it seemed apt to find them trouble if they weren't careful. They would just have to be the picture of proper, whatever that was anymore.
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Tython couldn't help himself. He snorted loudly at Tythra's words, a little too far gone to have a full argument with his sister. They were always so petty, and this profound feeling trailing through his limbs warranted a real fight. Then again, he felt too heavy to lift even a sword, so why did he have the urge to prove himself wrong? The young man brought his gaze back down from the ceiling, looking to the paperwork that he should have been intently focused on but failing to be able to read any of it with a shred of coherence.
"Uhhhhh..." Tython noted, shaking his head a little to see if he could shake any of his thoughts into making sense. They didn't, really, but the feeling was so peaceful that he didn't find himself panicking or feeling anxious about it. He rarely felt anxious as it was, but here he really didn't feel any sort of anxiety. It was hard to when all you felt was a supreme sort of calm that never faded.
"You aren't dad's favorite," he did manage to argue, though even his tongue felt heavy. Gods, he was starving and he could have taken the most comfortable nap ever.
It was her observation about the wood at the top of the ceiling that had Tython lifting his head again, really observing the ridges and the carvings. And then he laughed. Because that question was so profoundly funny but also mind-blowing that he couldn't initially wrap his head around it. Laughing seemed like the safest bet until he could gather any thoughts at all. "I really don't know. Farming has never sounded fun for me, but some people might actually enjoy it. Maybe it's just because they have so much knowledge on the subject that they feel most comfortable making their livings that way. I guess... in the same way that politicians and kings are trained from nearly birth to be good at talking and making laws and decisions," Tython shrugged, his nose scrunching a little.
"I can't imaging choosing wood carving as a past time," he noted, though he would be sorely surprised in the future when he actually did take it up as a way to calm his nerves. Tythra would look back on this conversation one day and laugh at him again.
Tython's mind quickly trailed away from the idea of wood carving and farming, his gaze falling on his all too-calm sister. A smirk trailed his lips. "I'm starving," he noted, "Do you think we might be able to raid the kitchens a little bit before they lay out supper? It's not supposed to be for another few hours yet, but I feel like I could eat an entire roast boar," the king hummed absently to himself, his stormy eyes mischievous in a way that they normally weren't. All Tython knew was that he liked this wine discovery, though it seemed apt to find them trouble if they weren't careful. They would just have to be the picture of proper, whatever that was anymore.
Tython couldn't help himself. He snorted loudly at Tythra's words, a little too far gone to have a full argument with his sister. They were always so petty, and this profound feeling trailing through his limbs warranted a real fight. Then again, he felt too heavy to lift even a sword, so why did he have the urge to prove himself wrong? The young man brought his gaze back down from the ceiling, looking to the paperwork that he should have been intently focused on but failing to be able to read any of it with a shred of coherence.
"Uhhhhh..." Tython noted, shaking his head a little to see if he could shake any of his thoughts into making sense. They didn't, really, but the feeling was so peaceful that he didn't find himself panicking or feeling anxious about it. He rarely felt anxious as it was, but here he really didn't feel any sort of anxiety. It was hard to when all you felt was a supreme sort of calm that never faded.
"You aren't dad's favorite," he did manage to argue, though even his tongue felt heavy. Gods, he was starving and he could have taken the most comfortable nap ever.
It was her observation about the wood at the top of the ceiling that had Tython lifting his head again, really observing the ridges and the carvings. And then he laughed. Because that question was so profoundly funny but also mind-blowing that he couldn't initially wrap his head around it. Laughing seemed like the safest bet until he could gather any thoughts at all. "I really don't know. Farming has never sounded fun for me, but some people might actually enjoy it. Maybe it's just because they have so much knowledge on the subject that they feel most comfortable making their livings that way. I guess... in the same way that politicians and kings are trained from nearly birth to be good at talking and making laws and decisions," Tython shrugged, his nose scrunching a little.
"I can't imaging choosing wood carving as a past time," he noted, though he would be sorely surprised in the future when he actually did take it up as a way to calm his nerves. Tythra would look back on this conversation one day and laugh at him again.
Tython's mind quickly trailed away from the idea of wood carving and farming, his gaze falling on his all too-calm sister. A smirk trailed his lips. "I'm starving," he noted, "Do you think we might be able to raid the kitchens a little bit before they lay out supper? It's not supposed to be for another few hours yet, but I feel like I could eat an entire roast boar," the king hummed absently to himself, his stormy eyes mischievous in a way that they normally weren't. All Tython knew was that he liked this wine discovery, though it seemed apt to find them trouble if they weren't careful. They would just have to be the picture of proper, whatever that was anymore.
Tythra would never ever tell her brother this to his face… but he was so smart. And he was so profound. Why hadn’t Tythra thought of that? People like farming because… they had so much knowledge of the subject. Of course! Tythra liked doing things she knew. She knew about economics, so she found conversations about it to be fascinating. She knew about the different kingdoms, so when she visited Athenia or Taengea she had a great time. Tython was right, as much as Tythra hated to admit it.
Well, he was almost right. Tythra was totally dad’s favorite.
Then her brother had the idea of raiding the kitchens, and that’s when Tythra realized just how utterly starving she was. Just about anything sounded good. She felt like she could go through their entire food stores and it wouldn’t be enough. But also the thought of moving was just so difficult. She was torn. Taking a nap sounded glorious, but food… well, she was starving.
Food would have to win.
Tythra forced herself onto her feet, dropping the pillow onto the couch. She went over to her brother, a bit wobblier than she was when she had first arrived in the room- not that she noticed, and grabbed Tython by the hand, “C’mon.” She pulled as hard as she could to get him on his feet. Logically she knew this had no impact whatsoever. Tython was much stronger than her and a giant at that. It was like an ant trying to move a mountain. But at least the pulling should be annoying.
“Oh!” Tythra’s eyes suddenly got wide with excitement. She remembered something vital. An excited grin appeared on her lips. “The chef made loukoumades earlier!” Tythra had an intense sweet tooth. She was a sucker for pastries and honey and goodies. But now, more than ever, she needed it. It was like her life depended on it. Normally she could try to limit herself. But she knew the moment those sweet doughy honeyed loukoumades were in front of her, she would devour it in one sitting.
“Let’s raid the kitchen!” She agreed, dropping her brother’s hand. “We can be sneaky about it. The chef was going to give those for desserts. But… what if you distracted her? Then I’ll tip toe in and snatch the plate. And she won’t know it was us, and mom and dad won’t know we had dessert before dinner, and then the chef would be forced to make us more. ” Honestly Tythra knew that having dessert before dinner was probably only something she would get in trouble for, especially given the fact that a few years ago she had gotten so filled on sweets she barely touched supper and her mother had gotten horribly upset. Personally, Tythra thought she was in a mood. Queen Kaiti could get that way sometime.
But that was near or there. The idea of performing some top-secret mission for the loukoumades with her brother sounded like a fun idea. It was filled with espionage, deceit, excitement, and in the end, they would have a prize that anyone would be jealous of- sweets. “Let’s put your military tactics to use!”
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Tythra would never ever tell her brother this to his face… but he was so smart. And he was so profound. Why hadn’t Tythra thought of that? People like farming because… they had so much knowledge of the subject. Of course! Tythra liked doing things she knew. She knew about economics, so she found conversations about it to be fascinating. She knew about the different kingdoms, so when she visited Athenia or Taengea she had a great time. Tython was right, as much as Tythra hated to admit it.
Well, he was almost right. Tythra was totally dad’s favorite.
Then her brother had the idea of raiding the kitchens, and that’s when Tythra realized just how utterly starving she was. Just about anything sounded good. She felt like she could go through their entire food stores and it wouldn’t be enough. But also the thought of moving was just so difficult. She was torn. Taking a nap sounded glorious, but food… well, she was starving.
Food would have to win.
Tythra forced herself onto her feet, dropping the pillow onto the couch. She went over to her brother, a bit wobblier than she was when she had first arrived in the room- not that she noticed, and grabbed Tython by the hand, “C’mon.” She pulled as hard as she could to get him on his feet. Logically she knew this had no impact whatsoever. Tython was much stronger than her and a giant at that. It was like an ant trying to move a mountain. But at least the pulling should be annoying.
“Oh!” Tythra’s eyes suddenly got wide with excitement. She remembered something vital. An excited grin appeared on her lips. “The chef made loukoumades earlier!” Tythra had an intense sweet tooth. She was a sucker for pastries and honey and goodies. But now, more than ever, she needed it. It was like her life depended on it. Normally she could try to limit herself. But she knew the moment those sweet doughy honeyed loukoumades were in front of her, she would devour it in one sitting.
“Let’s raid the kitchen!” She agreed, dropping her brother’s hand. “We can be sneaky about it. The chef was going to give those for desserts. But… what if you distracted her? Then I’ll tip toe in and snatch the plate. And she won’t know it was us, and mom and dad won’t know we had dessert before dinner, and then the chef would be forced to make us more. ” Honestly Tythra knew that having dessert before dinner was probably only something she would get in trouble for, especially given the fact that a few years ago she had gotten so filled on sweets she barely touched supper and her mother had gotten horribly upset. Personally, Tythra thought she was in a mood. Queen Kaiti could get that way sometime.
But that was near or there. The idea of performing some top-secret mission for the loukoumades with her brother sounded like a fun idea. It was filled with espionage, deceit, excitement, and in the end, they would have a prize that anyone would be jealous of- sweets. “Let’s put your military tactics to use!”
Tythra would never ever tell her brother this to his face… but he was so smart. And he was so profound. Why hadn’t Tythra thought of that? People like farming because… they had so much knowledge of the subject. Of course! Tythra liked doing things she knew. She knew about economics, so she found conversations about it to be fascinating. She knew about the different kingdoms, so when she visited Athenia or Taengea she had a great time. Tython was right, as much as Tythra hated to admit it.
Well, he was almost right. Tythra was totally dad’s favorite.
Then her brother had the idea of raiding the kitchens, and that’s when Tythra realized just how utterly starving she was. Just about anything sounded good. She felt like she could go through their entire food stores and it wouldn’t be enough. But also the thought of moving was just so difficult. She was torn. Taking a nap sounded glorious, but food… well, she was starving.
Food would have to win.
Tythra forced herself onto her feet, dropping the pillow onto the couch. She went over to her brother, a bit wobblier than she was when she had first arrived in the room- not that she noticed, and grabbed Tython by the hand, “C’mon.” She pulled as hard as she could to get him on his feet. Logically she knew this had no impact whatsoever. Tython was much stronger than her and a giant at that. It was like an ant trying to move a mountain. But at least the pulling should be annoying.
“Oh!” Tythra’s eyes suddenly got wide with excitement. She remembered something vital. An excited grin appeared on her lips. “The chef made loukoumades earlier!” Tythra had an intense sweet tooth. She was a sucker for pastries and honey and goodies. But now, more than ever, she needed it. It was like her life depended on it. Normally she could try to limit herself. But she knew the moment those sweet doughy honeyed loukoumades were in front of her, she would devour it in one sitting.
“Let’s raid the kitchen!” She agreed, dropping her brother’s hand. “We can be sneaky about it. The chef was going to give those for desserts. But… what if you distracted her? Then I’ll tip toe in and snatch the plate. And she won’t know it was us, and mom and dad won’t know we had dessert before dinner, and then the chef would be forced to make us more. ” Honestly Tythra knew that having dessert before dinner was probably only something she would get in trouble for, especially given the fact that a few years ago she had gotten so filled on sweets she barely touched supper and her mother had gotten horribly upset. Personally, Tythra thought she was in a mood. Queen Kaiti could get that way sometime.
But that was near or there. The idea of performing some top-secret mission for the loukoumades with her brother sounded like a fun idea. It was filled with espionage, deceit, excitement, and in the end, they would have a prize that anyone would be jealous of- sweets. “Let’s put your military tactics to use!”
Ah. So she was into the idea of raiding the kitchens. Good. Because the man was absolutely starving and he would have gone to do it with or without his sister. But he didn't have the great idea of using his military skills to be sneaky about getting food. Usually, they just had to ask for food and it was given to them. Sweets or not. It was the idea of moderating oneself that Queen Kaiti had always been very adamant about. You could have your sweets before dinner, but you had to be careful about how much you ate. Not eating your supper was an insult to the chef who cooked your meal.
But the very idea of sleuthing around the kitchen, trying to steal food without getting caught? That sounded way more fun and exciting that doing paperwork. And getting to spend time with Tythra? That was a big plus, as well. Letting his little sister pull on him, the prince rose to his feet, as unsteady on his own as Tythra was. Woah. The world spun, but almost in a really delightful way that he didn't actually want to stop. Humming under his breath, he took a few steps away from his desk, patting Tythra's shoulder as he went, his expression turning brighter the more he thought about their new mission.
"This sounds like a delightful idea," the prince didn't want to speak any louder than he had to, the sound of his own voice rather rattling, in a good way, but overwhelming nevertheless. "I'm starving and we both know how much I love loukoumades," Tython declared with a slow smile, his head swinging toward the door. "Lets go," now he was whispering, as if any of the kitchen staff were going to catch him in here. He actually started tiptoeing toward the door, his legs moving in an almost comical vision of him trying to start out quiet and stay silent as they came into the hallway.
He straightened up when he noted a few guards walking the opposite direction down the hall, away from them. "Act casual," he muttered to himself, motioning Tythra out after him once he thought the coast was clear. For two royals to think they had to be sneaky in order to get what they wanted was comical in and of itself, but it was still a humorous sight to the guards, who looked back at the prince and princess, as the two tried to sneak down the hallway.
"I wonder what kind of game they're playing this time," one of the guards commented quietly to the other as they rounded their corner, leaving the royals alone to attempt their sleuthing down the hallway toward the kitchens.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Ah. So she was into the idea of raiding the kitchens. Good. Because the man was absolutely starving and he would have gone to do it with or without his sister. But he didn't have the great idea of using his military skills to be sneaky about getting food. Usually, they just had to ask for food and it was given to them. Sweets or not. It was the idea of moderating oneself that Queen Kaiti had always been very adamant about. You could have your sweets before dinner, but you had to be careful about how much you ate. Not eating your supper was an insult to the chef who cooked your meal.
But the very idea of sleuthing around the kitchen, trying to steal food without getting caught? That sounded way more fun and exciting that doing paperwork. And getting to spend time with Tythra? That was a big plus, as well. Letting his little sister pull on him, the prince rose to his feet, as unsteady on his own as Tythra was. Woah. The world spun, but almost in a really delightful way that he didn't actually want to stop. Humming under his breath, he took a few steps away from his desk, patting Tythra's shoulder as he went, his expression turning brighter the more he thought about their new mission.
"This sounds like a delightful idea," the prince didn't want to speak any louder than he had to, the sound of his own voice rather rattling, in a good way, but overwhelming nevertheless. "I'm starving and we both know how much I love loukoumades," Tython declared with a slow smile, his head swinging toward the door. "Lets go," now he was whispering, as if any of the kitchen staff were going to catch him in here. He actually started tiptoeing toward the door, his legs moving in an almost comical vision of him trying to start out quiet and stay silent as they came into the hallway.
He straightened up when he noted a few guards walking the opposite direction down the hall, away from them. "Act casual," he muttered to himself, motioning Tythra out after him once he thought the coast was clear. For two royals to think they had to be sneaky in order to get what they wanted was comical in and of itself, but it was still a humorous sight to the guards, who looked back at the prince and princess, as the two tried to sneak down the hallway.
"I wonder what kind of game they're playing this time," one of the guards commented quietly to the other as they rounded their corner, leaving the royals alone to attempt their sleuthing down the hallway toward the kitchens.
Ah. So she was into the idea of raiding the kitchens. Good. Because the man was absolutely starving and he would have gone to do it with or without his sister. But he didn't have the great idea of using his military skills to be sneaky about getting food. Usually, they just had to ask for food and it was given to them. Sweets or not. It was the idea of moderating oneself that Queen Kaiti had always been very adamant about. You could have your sweets before dinner, but you had to be careful about how much you ate. Not eating your supper was an insult to the chef who cooked your meal.
But the very idea of sleuthing around the kitchen, trying to steal food without getting caught? That sounded way more fun and exciting that doing paperwork. And getting to spend time with Tythra? That was a big plus, as well. Letting his little sister pull on him, the prince rose to his feet, as unsteady on his own as Tythra was. Woah. The world spun, but almost in a really delightful way that he didn't actually want to stop. Humming under his breath, he took a few steps away from his desk, patting Tythra's shoulder as he went, his expression turning brighter the more he thought about their new mission.
"This sounds like a delightful idea," the prince didn't want to speak any louder than he had to, the sound of his own voice rather rattling, in a good way, but overwhelming nevertheless. "I'm starving and we both know how much I love loukoumades," Tython declared with a slow smile, his head swinging toward the door. "Lets go," now he was whispering, as if any of the kitchen staff were going to catch him in here. He actually started tiptoeing toward the door, his legs moving in an almost comical vision of him trying to start out quiet and stay silent as they came into the hallway.
He straightened up when he noted a few guards walking the opposite direction down the hall, away from them. "Act casual," he muttered to himself, motioning Tythra out after him once he thought the coast was clear. For two royals to think they had to be sneaky in order to get what they wanted was comical in and of itself, but it was still a humorous sight to the guards, who looked back at the prince and princess, as the two tried to sneak down the hallway.
"I wonder what kind of game they're playing this time," one of the guards commented quietly to the other as they rounded their corner, leaving the royals alone to attempt their sleuthing down the hallway toward the kitchens.
Tythra hadn’t played pretend since she was a small child. But how could she not imagine she was sneaking through some foregin palace like it was a mission of life and death? Tythra felt so cool as she and her brother went through the halls like some hero in an odyssey. Who knows what foe they might see around the corner? Each step was as silent as possible. She didn’t dare fall on the balls on her feet, in case it made noise. She remained on her toes, because clearly that would be the quietest.
After a while her feet ached, but Tythra was having far too much fun. It had been a while since her brother had gone on an adventure with her. The fact they were doing this, mixed with the light silly feeling that seemed to fill her since she sipped the wine, left Tythra with the widest most genuine smile in the world.
Act casual. Immediately Tythra straightened her spine and put her nose in the air. That was how she normally acted right? Snooty like all the rest of the nobles, yeah? At least that’s what people expected from her. This was easy! The guards would have no idea what they were planning. This would be the greatest heist ever! It’ll be told for generations! The time the Prince and Princess of Colchis stole from the Royal Kitchens!
I wonder what game they’re playing this time. Hahaha! They thought they were playing. They had no idea. A giggle escaped from Tythra’s lips as she hurried in front of her brother. She pressed her back to the wall and peeked around the corner. There Tythra recognized one of her father’s advisors talking with the caretaker of the library. Oh no, a real challenge.
“Shh,” She said and then crouched so that her brother could peek over her. This would be a real problem. They couldn’t leave witnesses. Especially as high leveled as them. The one had direct access to their father! (Which, to be fair, it was better him than their mother.) This could be their downfall. They were in the way of what was going to be the greatest heist in history!
But luckily they had a weapon up their sleeve. A weapon that would surely save them. It was valuable. It was special. It was… well, Tythra really didn’t want to compliment it more than she had to. Because it was her brother’s mind.
He studied strategy. He learned next to the greatest military mind Colchis had ever seen (in Tythra’s opinion), their father! So obviously her brother would be able to handle this. This was probably no sweat. Tythra had complete faith in her brother. She always did!
So she got back to her feet and whispered, “So what’s the plan?” Her eyes were wide and her head was tilted to the side expectantly. Like the whole mission rested on this moment and this moment alone.
He better not mess up.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Tythra hadn’t played pretend since she was a small child. But how could she not imagine she was sneaking through some foregin palace like it was a mission of life and death? Tythra felt so cool as she and her brother went through the halls like some hero in an odyssey. Who knows what foe they might see around the corner? Each step was as silent as possible. She didn’t dare fall on the balls on her feet, in case it made noise. She remained on her toes, because clearly that would be the quietest.
After a while her feet ached, but Tythra was having far too much fun. It had been a while since her brother had gone on an adventure with her. The fact they were doing this, mixed with the light silly feeling that seemed to fill her since she sipped the wine, left Tythra with the widest most genuine smile in the world.
Act casual. Immediately Tythra straightened her spine and put her nose in the air. That was how she normally acted right? Snooty like all the rest of the nobles, yeah? At least that’s what people expected from her. This was easy! The guards would have no idea what they were planning. This would be the greatest heist ever! It’ll be told for generations! The time the Prince and Princess of Colchis stole from the Royal Kitchens!
I wonder what game they’re playing this time. Hahaha! They thought they were playing. They had no idea. A giggle escaped from Tythra’s lips as she hurried in front of her brother. She pressed her back to the wall and peeked around the corner. There Tythra recognized one of her father’s advisors talking with the caretaker of the library. Oh no, a real challenge.
“Shh,” She said and then crouched so that her brother could peek over her. This would be a real problem. They couldn’t leave witnesses. Especially as high leveled as them. The one had direct access to their father! (Which, to be fair, it was better him than their mother.) This could be their downfall. They were in the way of what was going to be the greatest heist in history!
But luckily they had a weapon up their sleeve. A weapon that would surely save them. It was valuable. It was special. It was… well, Tythra really didn’t want to compliment it more than she had to. Because it was her brother’s mind.
He studied strategy. He learned next to the greatest military mind Colchis had ever seen (in Tythra’s opinion), their father! So obviously her brother would be able to handle this. This was probably no sweat. Tythra had complete faith in her brother. She always did!
So she got back to her feet and whispered, “So what’s the plan?” Her eyes were wide and her head was tilted to the side expectantly. Like the whole mission rested on this moment and this moment alone.
He better not mess up.
Tythra hadn’t played pretend since she was a small child. But how could she not imagine she was sneaking through some foregin palace like it was a mission of life and death? Tythra felt so cool as she and her brother went through the halls like some hero in an odyssey. Who knows what foe they might see around the corner? Each step was as silent as possible. She didn’t dare fall on the balls on her feet, in case it made noise. She remained on her toes, because clearly that would be the quietest.
After a while her feet ached, but Tythra was having far too much fun. It had been a while since her brother had gone on an adventure with her. The fact they were doing this, mixed with the light silly feeling that seemed to fill her since she sipped the wine, left Tythra with the widest most genuine smile in the world.
Act casual. Immediately Tythra straightened her spine and put her nose in the air. That was how she normally acted right? Snooty like all the rest of the nobles, yeah? At least that’s what people expected from her. This was easy! The guards would have no idea what they were planning. This would be the greatest heist ever! It’ll be told for generations! The time the Prince and Princess of Colchis stole from the Royal Kitchens!
I wonder what game they’re playing this time. Hahaha! They thought they were playing. They had no idea. A giggle escaped from Tythra’s lips as she hurried in front of her brother. She pressed her back to the wall and peeked around the corner. There Tythra recognized one of her father’s advisors talking with the caretaker of the library. Oh no, a real challenge.
“Shh,” She said and then crouched so that her brother could peek over her. This would be a real problem. They couldn’t leave witnesses. Especially as high leveled as them. The one had direct access to their father! (Which, to be fair, it was better him than their mother.) This could be their downfall. They were in the way of what was going to be the greatest heist in history!
But luckily they had a weapon up their sleeve. A weapon that would surely save them. It was valuable. It was special. It was… well, Tythra really didn’t want to compliment it more than she had to. Because it was her brother’s mind.
He studied strategy. He learned next to the greatest military mind Colchis had ever seen (in Tythra’s opinion), their father! So obviously her brother would be able to handle this. This was probably no sweat. Tythra had complete faith in her brother. She always did!
So she got back to her feet and whispered, “So what’s the plan?” Her eyes were wide and her head was tilted to the side expectantly. Like the whole mission rested on this moment and this moment alone.
