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With her mother and three of her sisters in Colchis, Imma had taken to spending a lot of time with her remaining sister, Theodora, at the palati. The new Queen had duties to attend to and the youngest Leventi girl didn’t see her every day. On those occasions, she explored the palati and its grounds looking for interesting places to paint. Today she would was putting the finishing touches on a painting of a bench surrounded by flower bushes. She liked the way the early afternoon sun played over the white surface and upon the petals of the blooms.
Because light was constantly changing, she had to return several times to capture it as it was at one particular moment.. The servants who had been assigned to attend her knew to have her easel set up before noon. She had been working on it for the last three days and was looking forward to completing it. Imma wasn’t certain if she would keep it herself or give it to someone. Maybe Theodora would like to hang it in her room. It was a beautiful and calming scene. She would not give it to Pia because it would remind her of all she had lost. The dowager Queen scared her, but perhaps the painting could act as an overture of friendship.
Or maybe I’ll take it back to Macendia and display it in my room to remind me of the fun I had here Imma didn’t want to go back home. She liked the capital much better. Theo would probably allow her to visit whenever she wished, but the long boat ride was insufferably boring. If only she could find a way to stay. There was so much to do here compared to her quiet island home. How would she be able to practice those lessons Uncle Fotios had taught her? There were countless people to charm and manipulate in Vasiliadon. She was just beginning to get the hang of it.
She thought on this problem as she mixed a bit of white with yellow on her palette. Imma glanced at the bench and set to work painting the sun’s rich highlights. She finished an hour later, painting the last few petals from memory as the sun had moved away away. Now it cast shadows upon the scene, which were pretty too, but not the look she was going for.
Setting her palette on the table that had been placed beside the easel, she stretched, lifting her arms to the sky and closing her eyes. Were those footsteps she heard approaching? Opening her sky blue eyes, she turned toward the sound, wondering if if her sister had come to join her.
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With her mother and three of her sisters in Colchis, Imma had taken to spending a lot of time with her remaining sister, Theodora, at the palati. The new Queen had duties to attend to and the youngest Leventi girl didn’t see her every day. On those occasions, she explored the palati and its grounds looking for interesting places to paint. Today she would was putting the finishing touches on a painting of a bench surrounded by flower bushes. She liked the way the early afternoon sun played over the white surface and upon the petals of the blooms.
Because light was constantly changing, she had to return several times to capture it as it was at one particular moment.. The servants who had been assigned to attend her knew to have her easel set up before noon. She had been working on it for the last three days and was looking forward to completing it. Imma wasn’t certain if she would keep it herself or give it to someone. Maybe Theodora would like to hang it in her room. It was a beautiful and calming scene. She would not give it to Pia because it would remind her of all she had lost. The dowager Queen scared her, but perhaps the painting could act as an overture of friendship.
Or maybe I’ll take it back to Macendia and display it in my room to remind me of the fun I had here Imma didn’t want to go back home. She liked the capital much better. Theo would probably allow her to visit whenever she wished, but the long boat ride was insufferably boring. If only she could find a way to stay. There was so much to do here compared to her quiet island home. How would she be able to practice those lessons Uncle Fotios had taught her? There were countless people to charm and manipulate in Vasiliadon. She was just beginning to get the hang of it.
She thought on this problem as she mixed a bit of white with yellow on her palette. Imma glanced at the bench and set to work painting the sun’s rich highlights. She finished an hour later, painting the last few petals from memory as the sun had moved away away. Now it cast shadows upon the scene, which were pretty too, but not the look she was going for.
Setting her palette on the table that had been placed beside the easel, she stretched, lifting her arms to the sky and closing her eyes. Were those footsteps she heard approaching? Opening her sky blue eyes, she turned toward the sound, wondering if if her sister had come to join her.
With her mother and three of her sisters in Colchis, Imma had taken to spending a lot of time with her remaining sister, Theodora, at the palati. The new Queen had duties to attend to and the youngest Leventi girl didn’t see her every day. On those occasions, she explored the palati and its grounds looking for interesting places to paint. Today she would was putting the finishing touches on a painting of a bench surrounded by flower bushes. She liked the way the early afternoon sun played over the white surface and upon the petals of the blooms.
Because light was constantly changing, she had to return several times to capture it as it was at one particular moment.. The servants who had been assigned to attend her knew to have her easel set up before noon. She had been working on it for the last three days and was looking forward to completing it. Imma wasn’t certain if she would keep it herself or give it to someone. Maybe Theodora would like to hang it in her room. It was a beautiful and calming scene. She would not give it to Pia because it would remind her of all she had lost. The dowager Queen scared her, but perhaps the painting could act as an overture of friendship.
Or maybe I’ll take it back to Macendia and display it in my room to remind me of the fun I had here Imma didn’t want to go back home. She liked the capital much better. Theo would probably allow her to visit whenever she wished, but the long boat ride was insufferably boring. If only she could find a way to stay. There was so much to do here compared to her quiet island home. How would she be able to practice those lessons Uncle Fotios had taught her? There were countless people to charm and manipulate in Vasiliadon. She was just beginning to get the hang of it.
She thought on this problem as she mixed a bit of white with yellow on her palette. Imma glanced at the bench and set to work painting the sun’s rich highlights. She finished an hour later, painting the last few petals from memory as the sun had moved away away. Now it cast shadows upon the scene, which were pretty too, but not the look she was going for.
Setting her palette on the table that had been placed beside the easel, she stretched, lifting her arms to the sky and closing her eyes. Were those footsteps she heard approaching? Opening her sky blue eyes, she turned toward the sound, wondering if if her sister had come to join her.
Achilleas was returning from another fruitless attempt at trying to convince his father’s old horse to do anything other than try and eat stableboys or turning his hindquarters towards the door and sulking. The new king scarce had time to waste fussing over the creature, and Aeneus did not seem to thank him for it at all, but it had not stopped Achilleas from slipping out to the stables at least once in a day.
There was something oddly comforting in the quiet to be found out there, it gave him time to think away from what seemed the ceaseless interruptions of people wanting his attention for something or other within the palati. And- though he would never voice such thoughts- he did think perhaps he and the old horse shared some common feelings at such a time. Both a little at sea, out of the familiar habitat and without the unignorable presence of the late King.
The difference was, Achilleas mused as he rubbed absently at his arm, Aeneus made no pretence of being fine. He could just stop and dig his heels in and grump about as much as he wanted, and he had no issue reminding the man of that with a sharp slash of his teeth.
There was no such privilege afforded to a monarch.
It had barely been a week since the whole world had turned on its head; since the day that should have been bright and joyful had instead been overcast by the shadow of death and the shocking promotion to king that had fallen to the eldest son of Irakles of Mikaelidas. Since then, the days had been mostly a blur, as Achilleas tried to find some footing in his new role. He had filled each and every moment with something: documents to be read, letters to be written, petitions to be heard. And though he was exhausted, it was easier to keep going, to keep himself busy than it was to contend with the quiet moments. There was danger in those, questions he didn’t want to be asked, sympathetic looks he did not think he could bear. No, instead, Achilleas had taken to spending his quiet moments with a horse. Because Aeneus bit him and didn’t ask how he was coping.
It was after one such strange interlude that he came across the youngest Leventi girl in the palati gardens, and as his sister-in-law turned her gaze toward him, Achilleas knew it was too late to slip by unnoticed.
It was not that he disliked Imma of Leventi: she was a sweet girl, and he would usually have made time for her. But, after successfully having avoided spending any significant time with his wife, it hardly seemed fair to surrender his self imposed solitude to her sister of all people. But Achilleas was nothing if not polite, so he summoned a smile for the young girl, his feet carrying him close enough so they might converse and there he paused, hands clasped behind his back as his attention shifted from the girl to the canvas and back again.
“Lady Imma. I didn’t know you were here” Here being the palati grounds, gilded by the low autumn sun. Glancing around the location he’d found her in, the king’s words were cordial if a little reserved. “Found a nice spot here?”
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Aug 11, 2020 18:15:29 GMT
Posted In True Colors on Aug 11, 2020 18:15:29 GMT
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Achilleas was returning from another fruitless attempt at trying to convince his father’s old horse to do anything other than try and eat stableboys or turning his hindquarters towards the door and sulking. The new king scarce had time to waste fussing over the creature, and Aeneus did not seem to thank him for it at all, but it had not stopped Achilleas from slipping out to the stables at least once in a day.
There was something oddly comforting in the quiet to be found out there, it gave him time to think away from what seemed the ceaseless interruptions of people wanting his attention for something or other within the palati. And- though he would never voice such thoughts- he did think perhaps he and the old horse shared some common feelings at such a time. Both a little at sea, out of the familiar habitat and without the unignorable presence of the late King.
The difference was, Achilleas mused as he rubbed absently at his arm, Aeneus made no pretence of being fine. He could just stop and dig his heels in and grump about as much as he wanted, and he had no issue reminding the man of that with a sharp slash of his teeth.
There was no such privilege afforded to a monarch.
It had barely been a week since the whole world had turned on its head; since the day that should have been bright and joyful had instead been overcast by the shadow of death and the shocking promotion to king that had fallen to the eldest son of Irakles of Mikaelidas. Since then, the days had been mostly a blur, as Achilleas tried to find some footing in his new role. He had filled each and every moment with something: documents to be read, letters to be written, petitions to be heard. And though he was exhausted, it was easier to keep going, to keep himself busy than it was to contend with the quiet moments. There was danger in those, questions he didn’t want to be asked, sympathetic looks he did not think he could bear. No, instead, Achilleas had taken to spending his quiet moments with a horse. Because Aeneus bit him and didn’t ask how he was coping.
It was after one such strange interlude that he came across the youngest Leventi girl in the palati gardens, and as his sister-in-law turned her gaze toward him, Achilleas knew it was too late to slip by unnoticed.
It was not that he disliked Imma of Leventi: she was a sweet girl, and he would usually have made time for her. But, after successfully having avoided spending any significant time with his wife, it hardly seemed fair to surrender his self imposed solitude to her sister of all people. But Achilleas was nothing if not polite, so he summoned a smile for the young girl, his feet carrying him close enough so they might converse and there he paused, hands clasped behind his back as his attention shifted from the girl to the canvas and back again.
“Lady Imma. I didn’t know you were here” Here being the palati grounds, gilded by the low autumn sun. Glancing around the location he’d found her in, the king’s words were cordial if a little reserved. “Found a nice spot here?”
Achilleas was returning from another fruitless attempt at trying to convince his father’s old horse to do anything other than try and eat stableboys or turning his hindquarters towards the door and sulking. The new king scarce had time to waste fussing over the creature, and Aeneus did not seem to thank him for it at all, but it had not stopped Achilleas from slipping out to the stables at least once in a day.
There was something oddly comforting in the quiet to be found out there, it gave him time to think away from what seemed the ceaseless interruptions of people wanting his attention for something or other within the palati. And- though he would never voice such thoughts- he did think perhaps he and the old horse shared some common feelings at such a time. Both a little at sea, out of the familiar habitat and without the unignorable presence of the late King.
The difference was, Achilleas mused as he rubbed absently at his arm, Aeneus made no pretence of being fine. He could just stop and dig his heels in and grump about as much as he wanted, and he had no issue reminding the man of that with a sharp slash of his teeth.
There was no such privilege afforded to a monarch.
It had barely been a week since the whole world had turned on its head; since the day that should have been bright and joyful had instead been overcast by the shadow of death and the shocking promotion to king that had fallen to the eldest son of Irakles of Mikaelidas. Since then, the days had been mostly a blur, as Achilleas tried to find some footing in his new role. He had filled each and every moment with something: documents to be read, letters to be written, petitions to be heard. And though he was exhausted, it was easier to keep going, to keep himself busy than it was to contend with the quiet moments. There was danger in those, questions he didn’t want to be asked, sympathetic looks he did not think he could bear. No, instead, Achilleas had taken to spending his quiet moments with a horse. Because Aeneus bit him and didn’t ask how he was coping.
It was after one such strange interlude that he came across the youngest Leventi girl in the palati gardens, and as his sister-in-law turned her gaze toward him, Achilleas knew it was too late to slip by unnoticed.
It was not that he disliked Imma of Leventi: she was a sweet girl, and he would usually have made time for her. But, after successfully having avoided spending any significant time with his wife, it hardly seemed fair to surrender his self imposed solitude to her sister of all people. But Achilleas was nothing if not polite, so he summoned a smile for the young girl, his feet carrying him close enough so they might converse and there he paused, hands clasped behind his back as his attention shifted from the girl to the canvas and back again.
“Lady Imma. I didn’t know you were here” Here being the palati grounds, gilded by the low autumn sun. Glancing around the location he’d found her in, the king’s words were cordial if a little reserved. “Found a nice spot here?”
The footsteps did not belong to Theodora. They belonged to her husband, the new king and Imma’s brother in law. What was he doing in the garden? Didn’t he have duties to attend to? Perhaps he was taking a break. Her eyes widened as a thought suddenly occurred to her. She hoped he hadn’t sought her out to tell her that her sister was feeling ill. If that was the case, she would abandon the finished painting and go to Theo at once.
She curtsied prettily as he approached her. “My King,” she acknowledged respectfully. Calling him that seemed a little strange but not as weird as calling her sister 'my Queen." Apparently, Achilleas had not sought her out at all, for he seemed genuinely surprised to see her.
There was no warmth in his polite words. Maybe he had visited the garden to work out some kind of problem. Imma liked to go riding when trying to find solutions to the dilemmas she sometimes faced … which she knew were nothing compared to what this man before her was going through.
His father had died at his own wedding and he had become King on the same day. It must be hard on him to take on the responsibility of an entire kingdom while mourning his father and becoming accustomed to having a wife. The Taengean monarch did look a bit preoccupied. Maybe she could cheer him up a bit.
She smiled disarmingly. “I’m visiting my sister. You’ll probably get tired of seeing me around the palati before long. There are so many wonderful places to paint. Imma stepped aside so he could get a good look at her painting. “I’ve been working on this one for three days and I finally finished it.”
The youngest Leventi sister remembered their first meeting. Achilleas had been so charming then, helping her collect the shells she needed to make blue and purple pigments. They’d had fun together. He had not had the weight of the world resting on his shoulders then. His father had been King after taking the throne from his cousin. Did he worry about Stephanos the way she worried about Olympia or was he glad that the former king was gone? She’d yet had no word from her mother as to how her sister was faring or if her baby had been born yet.
“I can never thank you enough for helping me find those shells, Your Majesty. There was enough to make quite a lot of paint.” She held her palette out to him. “These blue and purple pigments were made from them.” Some of the flowers around the bench were purple, so she had used both hues in her latest work.
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Aug 17, 2020 18:47:36 GMT
Posted In True Colors on Aug 17, 2020 18:47:36 GMT
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The footsteps did not belong to Theodora. They belonged to her husband, the new king and Imma’s brother in law. What was he doing in the garden? Didn’t he have duties to attend to? Perhaps he was taking a break. Her eyes widened as a thought suddenly occurred to her. She hoped he hadn’t sought her out to tell her that her sister was feeling ill. If that was the case, she would abandon the finished painting and go to Theo at once.
She curtsied prettily as he approached her. “My King,” she acknowledged respectfully. Calling him that seemed a little strange but not as weird as calling her sister 'my Queen." Apparently, Achilleas had not sought her out at all, for he seemed genuinely surprised to see her.
There was no warmth in his polite words. Maybe he had visited the garden to work out some kind of problem. Imma liked to go riding when trying to find solutions to the dilemmas she sometimes faced … which she knew were nothing compared to what this man before her was going through.
His father had died at his own wedding and he had become King on the same day. It must be hard on him to take on the responsibility of an entire kingdom while mourning his father and becoming accustomed to having a wife. The Taengean monarch did look a bit preoccupied. Maybe she could cheer him up a bit.
She smiled disarmingly. “I’m visiting my sister. You’ll probably get tired of seeing me around the palati before long. There are so many wonderful places to paint. Imma stepped aside so he could get a good look at her painting. “I’ve been working on this one for three days and I finally finished it.”
The youngest Leventi sister remembered their first meeting. Achilleas had been so charming then, helping her collect the shells she needed to make blue and purple pigments. They’d had fun together. He had not had the weight of the world resting on his shoulders then. His father had been King after taking the throne from his cousin. Did he worry about Stephanos the way she worried about Olympia or was he glad that the former king was gone? She’d yet had no word from her mother as to how her sister was faring or if her baby had been born yet.
“I can never thank you enough for helping me find those shells, Your Majesty. There was enough to make quite a lot of paint.” She held her palette out to him. “These blue and purple pigments were made from them.” Some of the flowers around the bench were purple, so she had used both hues in her latest work.
The footsteps did not belong to Theodora. They belonged to her husband, the new king and Imma’s brother in law. What was he doing in the garden? Didn’t he have duties to attend to? Perhaps he was taking a break. Her eyes widened as a thought suddenly occurred to her. She hoped he hadn’t sought her out to tell her that her sister was feeling ill. If that was the case, she would abandon the finished painting and go to Theo at once.
She curtsied prettily as he approached her. “My King,” she acknowledged respectfully. Calling him that seemed a little strange but not as weird as calling her sister 'my Queen." Apparently, Achilleas had not sought her out at all, for he seemed genuinely surprised to see her.
There was no warmth in his polite words. Maybe he had visited the garden to work out some kind of problem. Imma liked to go riding when trying to find solutions to the dilemmas she sometimes faced … which she knew were nothing compared to what this man before her was going through.
His father had died at his own wedding and he had become King on the same day. It must be hard on him to take on the responsibility of an entire kingdom while mourning his father and becoming accustomed to having a wife. The Taengean monarch did look a bit preoccupied. Maybe she could cheer him up a bit.
She smiled disarmingly. “I’m visiting my sister. You’ll probably get tired of seeing me around the palati before long. There are so many wonderful places to paint. Imma stepped aside so he could get a good look at her painting. “I’ve been working on this one for three days and I finally finished it.”
The youngest Leventi sister remembered their first meeting. Achilleas had been so charming then, helping her collect the shells she needed to make blue and purple pigments. They’d had fun together. He had not had the weight of the world resting on his shoulders then. His father had been King after taking the throne from his cousin. Did he worry about Stephanos the way she worried about Olympia or was he glad that the former king was gone? She’d yet had no word from her mother as to how her sister was faring or if her baby had been born yet.
“I can never thank you enough for helping me find those shells, Your Majesty. There was enough to make quite a lot of paint.” She held her palette out to him. “These blue and purple pigments were made from them.” Some of the flowers around the bench were purple, so she had used both hues in her latest work.
Imma’s smile was such that it was almost impossible not to warm his own slightly, and the King found himself relent slightly in his formality. It was good that she was here to visit with her sister, he felt less guilty at having been absent, and ti would do Theodora good to have her family around her when he sailed for Egypt. He wished he did not have to leave her so soon, though there was some small part of him that took comfort in the fact that at least he knew what he was doing in war, unlike stumbling his way through establishing what his marriage was supposed to be like at the same time as trying to rule a kingdom.
Stepping in as the girl moved to show him the painting she’d been working on, Achilleas gently corrected her assumptions.
“I’m glad Theodora has you here,” he said simply. “I know she has missed the presence of your mother and sisters. You are welcome always, as I’m sure you know” He let his gaze wander over the canvas, over the scene the girl had captured in paint and there was a genuine admiration in his next words, the king turning to the young girl with a surprised look upon his face. “This is very good,” he remarked and then adjusted his expression and tone as he realised that perhaps it was not too flattering for him to sound so shocked by the fact. Glancing back to the picture he went on “I mean, I haven’t seen your work before. I had no idea you were so talented, Lady Imma.”
When she showed him the colours she’d mixed up after their misadventure on the beach, Achilleas laughed softly. It seemed a million years ago now, and he remembered how concerned he had been that she’d been injured that day, how she’d sweet-talked him out of returning her to her front door
“ That’s...quite remarkable,” he said, eyeing the paints. He couldn’t remember the process she’d described to extract the pigment, but knew well enough how godsdamned sharp the shells were from where he’d picked one out of his foot. “And as I recall, you found most of them yourself. I’m not sure I was much assistance. Though I do hope you’ve not been sneaking off alone again to find more?”
He’d tried to impress on her then the dangers of doing so, of what could happen if she were to come across those less well-intentioned, but Imma had the same stubborn streak as Theodora he thought, so whether she paid him any heed or not was another matter.
“Perhaps Theodora might accompany you?” he suggested, thinking that then they would both have the company of a handful of guards and he’d feel much easier about it.
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Aug 21, 2020 17:40:50 GMT
Posted In True Colors on Aug 21, 2020 17:40:50 GMT
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Imma’s smile was such that it was almost impossible not to warm his own slightly, and the King found himself relent slightly in his formality. It was good that she was here to visit with her sister, he felt less guilty at having been absent, and ti would do Theodora good to have her family around her when he sailed for Egypt. He wished he did not have to leave her so soon, though there was some small part of him that took comfort in the fact that at least he knew what he was doing in war, unlike stumbling his way through establishing what his marriage was supposed to be like at the same time as trying to rule a kingdom.
Stepping in as the girl moved to show him the painting she’d been working on, Achilleas gently corrected her assumptions.
“I’m glad Theodora has you here,” he said simply. “I know she has missed the presence of your mother and sisters. You are welcome always, as I’m sure you know” He let his gaze wander over the canvas, over the scene the girl had captured in paint and there was a genuine admiration in his next words, the king turning to the young girl with a surprised look upon his face. “This is very good,” he remarked and then adjusted his expression and tone as he realised that perhaps it was not too flattering for him to sound so shocked by the fact. Glancing back to the picture he went on “I mean, I haven’t seen your work before. I had no idea you were so talented, Lady Imma.”
When she showed him the colours she’d mixed up after their misadventure on the beach, Achilleas laughed softly. It seemed a million years ago now, and he remembered how concerned he had been that she’d been injured that day, how she’d sweet-talked him out of returning her to her front door
“ That’s...quite remarkable,” he said, eyeing the paints. He couldn’t remember the process she’d described to extract the pigment, but knew well enough how godsdamned sharp the shells were from where he’d picked one out of his foot. “And as I recall, you found most of them yourself. I’m not sure I was much assistance. Though I do hope you’ve not been sneaking off alone again to find more?”
He’d tried to impress on her then the dangers of doing so, of what could happen if she were to come across those less well-intentioned, but Imma had the same stubborn streak as Theodora he thought, so whether she paid him any heed or not was another matter.
“Perhaps Theodora might accompany you?” he suggested, thinking that then they would both have the company of a handful of guards and he’d feel much easier about it.
Imma’s smile was such that it was almost impossible not to warm his own slightly, and the King found himself relent slightly in his formality. It was good that she was here to visit with her sister, he felt less guilty at having been absent, and ti would do Theodora good to have her family around her when he sailed for Egypt. He wished he did not have to leave her so soon, though there was some small part of him that took comfort in the fact that at least he knew what he was doing in war, unlike stumbling his way through establishing what his marriage was supposed to be like at the same time as trying to rule a kingdom.
Stepping in as the girl moved to show him the painting she’d been working on, Achilleas gently corrected her assumptions.
“I’m glad Theodora has you here,” he said simply. “I know she has missed the presence of your mother and sisters. You are welcome always, as I’m sure you know” He let his gaze wander over the canvas, over the scene the girl had captured in paint and there was a genuine admiration in his next words, the king turning to the young girl with a surprised look upon his face. “This is very good,” he remarked and then adjusted his expression and tone as he realised that perhaps it was not too flattering for him to sound so shocked by the fact. Glancing back to the picture he went on “I mean, I haven’t seen your work before. I had no idea you were so talented, Lady Imma.”
When she showed him the colours she’d mixed up after their misadventure on the beach, Achilleas laughed softly. It seemed a million years ago now, and he remembered how concerned he had been that she’d been injured that day, how she’d sweet-talked him out of returning her to her front door
“ That’s...quite remarkable,” he said, eyeing the paints. He couldn’t remember the process she’d described to extract the pigment, but knew well enough how godsdamned sharp the shells were from where he’d picked one out of his foot. “And as I recall, you found most of them yourself. I’m not sure I was much assistance. Though I do hope you’ve not been sneaking off alone again to find more?”
He’d tried to impress on her then the dangers of doing so, of what could happen if she were to come across those less well-intentioned, but Imma had the same stubborn streak as Theodora he thought, so whether she paid him any heed or not was another matter.
“Perhaps Theodora might accompany you?” he suggested, thinking that then they would both have the company of a handful of guards and he’d feel much easier about it.
His smile warmed a bit when she moved aside so that he could have a look at her painting. There! That was more like the Achilleas Imma remembered from the beach … the charming man whose friendly banter she had enjoyed so much. The highlights she had painted today were not quite dry and she hoped that he didn’t try to touch it. She almost warned him, but decided it probably wasn’t necessary.
“I’m glad Theodora has you here, I know she has missed the presence of your mother and sisters. You are welcome always, as I’m sure you know.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I miss them too.” In truth, she didn’t. Imma felt prettier and more confident without them to remind her of her failures. They never said as much to her and she didn’t think they believed she was inferior to them. Just being around them made her feel that way. Theo was beautiful and sophisticated too, but it was easier to be around one sister than all four of them.
She felt better knowing that he didn’t mind her presence in the palati. It wasn’t as if she made a nuisance of herself, but she didn’t truly belong there.
Achilleas seemed surprised by how well she painted. She did not see his reaction as insulting. Imma was young and nobody expected her to paint as well as she did. Most people were startled when they saw her work for the first time. She liked awing them with her talent. At least she did something better than her sisters.
“Thank you,” she said again and laughed. “It appears that all I can say today is ‘thank you.’" She had already expressed her gratitude three times in a matter of minutes. Now she knew what she was going to do with the painting. She would give it to him. Imma had promised that she would paint something for him and that she would show Achilleas her works. Between preparations for Theo’s wedding, the wedding itself, the death of King Irakles, his rise to the throne, and the plans for war, he had likely been too busy to take time to look at art.
Her brother-in-law expressed amazement at the paints she had made from the shells. “It’s a complicated process but I like making my pigments myself, especially those that are expensive to buy at the market.” She would much rather spend her money on clothing and jewelry.
“And as I recall, you found most of them yourself. I’m not sure I was much assistance. Though I do hope you’ve not been sneaking off alone again to find more?”
The young blonde shrugged. “Perhaps, but your assistance was invaluable. If you had not been there to help me when I was injured, I would have had to leave the shells behind and the waves would have washed them back into the water.
“Not yet.” Her grin turned sheepish. “Those shells gave me more paint than I expected. But I will collect more when I need them.” She cocked her head at his suggestion. “I shall ask her. It would be fun to have her with me. If she’s too busy, I promise I will take a guard this time. I have not forgotten your warnings.”
It was then that she noticed the gash on his arm. “Maybe you need a warning too, Your Majesty. What happened to your arm?”
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His smile warmed a bit when she moved aside so that he could have a look at her painting. There! That was more like the Achilleas Imma remembered from the beach … the charming man whose friendly banter she had enjoyed so much. The highlights she had painted today were not quite dry and she hoped that he didn’t try to touch it. She almost warned him, but decided it probably wasn’t necessary.
“I’m glad Theodora has you here, I know she has missed the presence of your mother and sisters. You are welcome always, as I’m sure you know.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I miss them too.” In truth, she didn’t. Imma felt prettier and more confident without them to remind her of her failures. They never said as much to her and she didn’t think they believed she was inferior to them. Just being around them made her feel that way. Theo was beautiful and sophisticated too, but it was easier to be around one sister than all four of them.
She felt better knowing that he didn’t mind her presence in the palati. It wasn’t as if she made a nuisance of herself, but she didn’t truly belong there.
Achilleas seemed surprised by how well she painted. She did not see his reaction as insulting. Imma was young and nobody expected her to paint as well as she did. Most people were startled when they saw her work for the first time. She liked awing them with her talent. At least she did something better than her sisters.
“Thank you,” she said again and laughed. “It appears that all I can say today is ‘thank you.’" She had already expressed her gratitude three times in a matter of minutes. Now she knew what she was going to do with the painting. She would give it to him. Imma had promised that she would paint something for him and that she would show Achilleas her works. Between preparations for Theo’s wedding, the wedding itself, the death of King Irakles, his rise to the throne, and the plans for war, he had likely been too busy to take time to look at art.
Her brother-in-law expressed amazement at the paints she had made from the shells. “It’s a complicated process but I like making my pigments myself, especially those that are expensive to buy at the market.” She would much rather spend her money on clothing and jewelry.
“And as I recall, you found most of them yourself. I’m not sure I was much assistance. Though I do hope you’ve not been sneaking off alone again to find more?”
The young blonde shrugged. “Perhaps, but your assistance was invaluable. If you had not been there to help me when I was injured, I would have had to leave the shells behind and the waves would have washed them back into the water.
“Not yet.” Her grin turned sheepish. “Those shells gave me more paint than I expected. But I will collect more when I need them.” She cocked her head at his suggestion. “I shall ask her. It would be fun to have her with me. If she’s too busy, I promise I will take a guard this time. I have not forgotten your warnings.”
It was then that she noticed the gash on his arm. “Maybe you need a warning too, Your Majesty. What happened to your arm?”
His smile warmed a bit when she moved aside so that he could have a look at her painting. There! That was more like the Achilleas Imma remembered from the beach … the charming man whose friendly banter she had enjoyed so much. The highlights she had painted today were not quite dry and she hoped that he didn’t try to touch it. She almost warned him, but decided it probably wasn’t necessary.
“I’m glad Theodora has you here, I know she has missed the presence of your mother and sisters. You are welcome always, as I’m sure you know.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I miss them too.” In truth, she didn’t. Imma felt prettier and more confident without them to remind her of her failures. They never said as much to her and she didn’t think they believed she was inferior to them. Just being around them made her feel that way. Theo was beautiful and sophisticated too, but it was easier to be around one sister than all four of them.
She felt better knowing that he didn’t mind her presence in the palati. It wasn’t as if she made a nuisance of herself, but she didn’t truly belong there.
Achilleas seemed surprised by how well she painted. She did not see his reaction as insulting. Imma was young and nobody expected her to paint as well as she did. Most people were startled when they saw her work for the first time. She liked awing them with her talent. At least she did something better than her sisters.
“Thank you,” she said again and laughed. “It appears that all I can say today is ‘thank you.’" She had already expressed her gratitude three times in a matter of minutes. Now she knew what she was going to do with the painting. She would give it to him. Imma had promised that she would paint something for him and that she would show Achilleas her works. Between preparations for Theo’s wedding, the wedding itself, the death of King Irakles, his rise to the throne, and the plans for war, he had likely been too busy to take time to look at art.
Her brother-in-law expressed amazement at the paints she had made from the shells. “It’s a complicated process but I like making my pigments myself, especially those that are expensive to buy at the market.” She would much rather spend her money on clothing and jewelry.
“And as I recall, you found most of them yourself. I’m not sure I was much assistance. Though I do hope you’ve not been sneaking off alone again to find more?”
The young blonde shrugged. “Perhaps, but your assistance was invaluable. If you had not been there to help me when I was injured, I would have had to leave the shells behind and the waves would have washed them back into the water.
“Not yet.” Her grin turned sheepish. “Those shells gave me more paint than I expected. But I will collect more when I need them.” She cocked her head at his suggestion. “I shall ask her. It would be fun to have her with me. If she’s too busy, I promise I will take a guard this time. I have not forgotten your warnings.”
It was then that she noticed the gash on his arm. “Maybe you need a warning too, Your Majesty. What happened to your arm?”
The King gave a bland smile when the young Leventi girl made a joke of how many times she had thanked him already in their short conversation. It hadn’t registered with him, his attention somewhat splintered what with everything that was going on. Still, he attempted to focus more fully on his sister-in-law as she went on to talk of the pigment she had extracted to make her paints.
There was a very slight lift of a brow at her words for he found it hard to believe she could have any concerns regarding the cost of paint but he didn’t remark upon it just gave a small shrug as she refused to accept his claims to not have been much help in the process of finding said snails.
He’d been a little worried at the time; after all, it was hardly the best impression to make on one’s future in-laws to return their youngest child bedraggled and injured. And yet the idea of leaving Imma to sneak back in alone had seemed wrong too, and Achilleas had second-guessed his decision all the way back to the Mikaelidas archontiko. It seemed such a trifling thing to have been worried about now.
“Well then I suppose I am glad to have been able to help,” he said. Looking at the young girl, he was glad that some of his words from that day had seemed to sink in, and definitely relieved at the idea that she would ask Theodora to accompany her next time. He’d tasked Krysto with appointing new guards for the Queen, from the best that the Taengean Lions had to offer. If he couldn’t be here himself then he would at least make sure she had honest and trustworthy men to watch over her in his absence. It wasn’t that he anticipated trouble, but there had been enough upheaval in Taengea that he was not entirely sure who to consider friend or foe anymore.
“You do that” he nodded, before looking a little confused at her remark, dark brows drawing together before he tracked her gaze to the graze on his arm and extended the limb and twisted it so as better to see the mark.
“Aah,” he muttered. “Just a love bite from an irascible horse. I didn’t move quick enough.” His father’s horse, to be more precise. Achilleas couldn’t bring himself to see the old grey gelding sold on, but so far the animal was proving less than amenable to his efforts to engage. He’d been listless and withdrawn, the stable master said, and also pointed out that he couldn’t afford to send any more young lads in for the horse to take a snap at. If he didn't think it such a soft notion, the King might have said the horse was grieving its owner. Either way, Aenaeus was both a problem and a comfort somehow, and Achilleas rubbed his hand over the reddened mark before folding his arms out of sight behind his back once more. “It’s nothing really” He didn’t seem keen to invite any further discussion on the subject.
Instead, the man glanced about them and looked back to the canvas before he shot a quizzical look at the artist. “ Why here?” he asked curiously. “Of all the spots in the palati, this seems a little...ordinary?”
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The King gave a bland smile when the young Leventi girl made a joke of how many times she had thanked him already in their short conversation. It hadn’t registered with him, his attention somewhat splintered what with everything that was going on. Still, he attempted to focus more fully on his sister-in-law as she went on to talk of the pigment she had extracted to make her paints.
There was a very slight lift of a brow at her words for he found it hard to believe she could have any concerns regarding the cost of paint but he didn’t remark upon it just gave a small shrug as she refused to accept his claims to not have been much help in the process of finding said snails.
He’d been a little worried at the time; after all, it was hardly the best impression to make on one’s future in-laws to return their youngest child bedraggled and injured. And yet the idea of leaving Imma to sneak back in alone had seemed wrong too, and Achilleas had second-guessed his decision all the way back to the Mikaelidas archontiko. It seemed such a trifling thing to have been worried about now.
“Well then I suppose I am glad to have been able to help,” he said. Looking at the young girl, he was glad that some of his words from that day had seemed to sink in, and definitely relieved at the idea that she would ask Theodora to accompany her next time. He’d tasked Krysto with appointing new guards for the Queen, from the best that the Taengean Lions had to offer. If he couldn’t be here himself then he would at least make sure she had honest and trustworthy men to watch over her in his absence. It wasn’t that he anticipated trouble, but there had been enough upheaval in Taengea that he was not entirely sure who to consider friend or foe anymore.
“You do that” he nodded, before looking a little confused at her remark, dark brows drawing together before he tracked her gaze to the graze on his arm and extended the limb and twisted it so as better to see the mark.
“Aah,” he muttered. “Just a love bite from an irascible horse. I didn’t move quick enough.” His father’s horse, to be more precise. Achilleas couldn’t bring himself to see the old grey gelding sold on, but so far the animal was proving less than amenable to his efforts to engage. He’d been listless and withdrawn, the stable master said, and also pointed out that he couldn’t afford to send any more young lads in for the horse to take a snap at. If he didn't think it such a soft notion, the King might have said the horse was grieving its owner. Either way, Aenaeus was both a problem and a comfort somehow, and Achilleas rubbed his hand over the reddened mark before folding his arms out of sight behind his back once more. “It’s nothing really” He didn’t seem keen to invite any further discussion on the subject.
Instead, the man glanced about them and looked back to the canvas before he shot a quizzical look at the artist. “ Why here?” he asked curiously. “Of all the spots in the palati, this seems a little...ordinary?”
The King gave a bland smile when the young Leventi girl made a joke of how many times she had thanked him already in their short conversation. It hadn’t registered with him, his attention somewhat splintered what with everything that was going on. Still, he attempted to focus more fully on his sister-in-law as she went on to talk of the pigment she had extracted to make her paints.
There was a very slight lift of a brow at her words for he found it hard to believe she could have any concerns regarding the cost of paint but he didn’t remark upon it just gave a small shrug as she refused to accept his claims to not have been much help in the process of finding said snails.
He’d been a little worried at the time; after all, it was hardly the best impression to make on one’s future in-laws to return their youngest child bedraggled and injured. And yet the idea of leaving Imma to sneak back in alone had seemed wrong too, and Achilleas had second-guessed his decision all the way back to the Mikaelidas archontiko. It seemed such a trifling thing to have been worried about now.
“Well then I suppose I am glad to have been able to help,” he said. Looking at the young girl, he was glad that some of his words from that day had seemed to sink in, and definitely relieved at the idea that she would ask Theodora to accompany her next time. He’d tasked Krysto with appointing new guards for the Queen, from the best that the Taengean Lions had to offer. If he couldn’t be here himself then he would at least make sure she had honest and trustworthy men to watch over her in his absence. It wasn’t that he anticipated trouble, but there had been enough upheaval in Taengea that he was not entirely sure who to consider friend or foe anymore.
“You do that” he nodded, before looking a little confused at her remark, dark brows drawing together before he tracked her gaze to the graze on his arm and extended the limb and twisted it so as better to see the mark.
“Aah,” he muttered. “Just a love bite from an irascible horse. I didn’t move quick enough.” His father’s horse, to be more precise. Achilleas couldn’t bring himself to see the old grey gelding sold on, but so far the animal was proving less than amenable to his efforts to engage. He’d been listless and withdrawn, the stable master said, and also pointed out that he couldn’t afford to send any more young lads in for the horse to take a snap at. If he didn't think it such a soft notion, the King might have said the horse was grieving its owner. Either way, Aenaeus was both a problem and a comfort somehow, and Achilleas rubbed his hand over the reddened mark before folding his arms out of sight behind his back once more. “It’s nothing really” He didn’t seem keen to invite any further discussion on the subject.
Instead, the man glanced about them and looked back to the canvas before he shot a quizzical look at the artist. “ Why here?” he asked curiously. “Of all the spots in the palati, this seems a little...ordinary?”
Of course, the King was glad that she promised not to go collecting shells alone. But would she be able to keep it? Imma was impatient and impulsive. If there weren’t any guards around and none of her sisters or cousins were available, she might just go anyway when she ran out of purple paint. She used it often when she painted scenes from her own imagination, as it was one of her favorite colors. This hard-earned batch had been used sparingly, but after painting the violets in the scene she had just finished, she was running quite low. Soon she would need to either buy more or find more snails.
She doubted that Achilleas knew how expensive or how rare purple pigment was. Most of the time, it could not be found at all, scooped up early by those who made fabric dyes. When a merchant had it, he could basically charge whatever he wanted for it and those desperate for it would pay. Poor artists didn’t use the hue at all. Although Imma didn’t have to worry about money, she couldn’t see the point of purchasing a small vial of pigment for more than it would cost to buy a set of jewelry dripping with sparkling diamonds.
The King played down his wound. It did, indeed, look like a bite from a horse. She hoped that Tisavros had not injured him. He could be quite mean and didn’t like to be handled by anyone but his mistress. As she had ridden him to the palati, he was currently residing in the royal stables. When Imma had led him inside, the stableboys had rolled their eyes and made themselves scarce. They knew from experience how much trouble the palomino stallion could be. She thought about asking, but the King folded his arms behind his back and changed the subject back to her painting.
Achilleas inquired as to why she had chosen this particular place to immortalize on canvas, calling it ordinary. I guess I won’t be giving him this one, she thought with a mental shrug. He doesn’t like the location.Then again, the sun had moved and no longer cast its glow upon the bench. Imma silently agreed with him. Right now, the bench and its surroundings were nothing special. One could walk by and not notice it at all.
How could she explain? “Sometimes the ordinary can be the most beautiful, especially at certain times of the day. I chose this spot because of the way the sun shone down on it. It looked magical, lit by golden light. Look at my painting and then back at the bench. See the difference? It enchanted me when I first saw it. In order to capture it at that single moment, I had to return to this spot at the same time of day three times.”
Art, like beauty, was in the eye of the beholder. Maybe the King would not see her painting the same way she did. The serenity of the scene wouldn’t appeal to everyone. After he had gotten a good look at it, Imma carefully covered the now-dry canvas with a soft cloth and indicated to the slaves standing nearby that they could pack up her easel and supplies and take them back to her room.
“What areas of the palati would you paint if you were an artist, Your Majesty?” Imma smiled engagingly. “Show me.”
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Of course, the King was glad that she promised not to go collecting shells alone. But would she be able to keep it? Imma was impatient and impulsive. If there weren’t any guards around and none of her sisters or cousins were available, she might just go anyway when she ran out of purple paint. She used it often when she painted scenes from her own imagination, as it was one of her favorite colors. This hard-earned batch had been used sparingly, but after painting the violets in the scene she had just finished, she was running quite low. Soon she would need to either buy more or find more snails.
She doubted that Achilleas knew how expensive or how rare purple pigment was. Most of the time, it could not be found at all, scooped up early by those who made fabric dyes. When a merchant had it, he could basically charge whatever he wanted for it and those desperate for it would pay. Poor artists didn’t use the hue at all. Although Imma didn’t have to worry about money, she couldn’t see the point of purchasing a small vial of pigment for more than it would cost to buy a set of jewelry dripping with sparkling diamonds.
The King played down his wound. It did, indeed, look like a bite from a horse. She hoped that Tisavros had not injured him. He could be quite mean and didn’t like to be handled by anyone but his mistress. As she had ridden him to the palati, he was currently residing in the royal stables. When Imma had led him inside, the stableboys had rolled their eyes and made themselves scarce. They knew from experience how much trouble the palomino stallion could be. She thought about asking, but the King folded his arms behind his back and changed the subject back to her painting.
Achilleas inquired as to why she had chosen this particular place to immortalize on canvas, calling it ordinary. I guess I won’t be giving him this one, she thought with a mental shrug. He doesn’t like the location.Then again, the sun had moved and no longer cast its glow upon the bench. Imma silently agreed with him. Right now, the bench and its surroundings were nothing special. One could walk by and not notice it at all.
How could she explain? “Sometimes the ordinary can be the most beautiful, especially at certain times of the day. I chose this spot because of the way the sun shone down on it. It looked magical, lit by golden light. Look at my painting and then back at the bench. See the difference? It enchanted me when I first saw it. In order to capture it at that single moment, I had to return to this spot at the same time of day three times.”
Art, like beauty, was in the eye of the beholder. Maybe the King would not see her painting the same way she did. The serenity of the scene wouldn’t appeal to everyone. After he had gotten a good look at it, Imma carefully covered the now-dry canvas with a soft cloth and indicated to the slaves standing nearby that they could pack up her easel and supplies and take them back to her room.
“What areas of the palati would you paint if you were an artist, Your Majesty?” Imma smiled engagingly. “Show me.”
Of course, the King was glad that she promised not to go collecting shells alone. But would she be able to keep it? Imma was impatient and impulsive. If there weren’t any guards around and none of her sisters or cousins were available, she might just go anyway when she ran out of purple paint. She used it often when she painted scenes from her own imagination, as it was one of her favorite colors. This hard-earned batch had been used sparingly, but after painting the violets in the scene she had just finished, she was running quite low. Soon she would need to either buy more or find more snails.
She doubted that Achilleas knew how expensive or how rare purple pigment was. Most of the time, it could not be found at all, scooped up early by those who made fabric dyes. When a merchant had it, he could basically charge whatever he wanted for it and those desperate for it would pay. Poor artists didn’t use the hue at all. Although Imma didn’t have to worry about money, she couldn’t see the point of purchasing a small vial of pigment for more than it would cost to buy a set of jewelry dripping with sparkling diamonds.
The King played down his wound. It did, indeed, look like a bite from a horse. She hoped that Tisavros had not injured him. He could be quite mean and didn’t like to be handled by anyone but his mistress. As she had ridden him to the palati, he was currently residing in the royal stables. When Imma had led him inside, the stableboys had rolled their eyes and made themselves scarce. They knew from experience how much trouble the palomino stallion could be. She thought about asking, but the King folded his arms behind his back and changed the subject back to her painting.
Achilleas inquired as to why she had chosen this particular place to immortalize on canvas, calling it ordinary. I guess I won’t be giving him this one, she thought with a mental shrug. He doesn’t like the location.Then again, the sun had moved and no longer cast its glow upon the bench. Imma silently agreed with him. Right now, the bench and its surroundings were nothing special. One could walk by and not notice it at all.
How could she explain? “Sometimes the ordinary can be the most beautiful, especially at certain times of the day. I chose this spot because of the way the sun shone down on it. It looked magical, lit by golden light. Look at my painting and then back at the bench. See the difference? It enchanted me when I first saw it. In order to capture it at that single moment, I had to return to this spot at the same time of day three times.”
Art, like beauty, was in the eye of the beholder. Maybe the King would not see her painting the same way she did. The serenity of the scene wouldn’t appeal to everyone. After he had gotten a good look at it, Imma carefully covered the now-dry canvas with a soft cloth and indicated to the slaves standing nearby that they could pack up her easel and supplies and take them back to her room.
“What areas of the palati would you paint if you were an artist, Your Majesty?” Imma smiled engagingly. “Show me.”
As Imma began to explain her thought process, Achilleas had come to stand at her shoulder so he might try and see what she saw. He supposed he could see the difference in light between the image rendered on canvas and the scene before him, but hed put it down to artistic interpretation rather than a natural shift in the sun’s position.
“I see,” he said, tilting his head a little and trying very hard to do just that. The Mikaelidas man had never claimed to be one particularly moved by the arts. He could appreciate them to some degree, but he wasn’t one to find himself lost in rapture when listening to a piece of music or viewing a painting. He could attribute a certain level of skill to the young girl beside him based upon her ability to replicate the vista before her, but beyond that, he didn’t feel particularly qualified to pass judgment. “ You are dedicated” he observed instead, because if she had come back to the palati three separate times, then that was true at least.
When the young Leventi had bid the servants put her things away and turned her question to the new King, Achilleas frowned a little as he considered. There were many parts of the palati that were beautiful: be it architecturally or landscaped. The Grand Foyer could be breathtaking to those who saw it for the first time, or the war room held so much history in the shields that lined the walls that he thought there was much to be told in that.
“Ah, well I am no artist” he hedged, a brief, self-deprecating smile before he began to walk, leaving Imma to fall into step beside him. He had spent enough time in the palace to know most of its secrets, visiting with his cousins or later at court events, but now when asked such a simple question, he floundered a little in coming up with an answer.
“The reflection pool perhaps?” he offered because no one could argue against the beauty of that spot where the earth had been dug down to welcome the waters of the Aegean. On a clear night, the water captured a blanket of stars upon its surface. It was a beautiful spot, even more so since that little issues with leeches had been dealt with. Achilleas was not about to share the story of that night with Theodora’s younger sister though, and so he moved on.
“Or perhaps the northern gardens….there is a monopteros there that is quite striking.” He cleared his throat and glanced at Imma. “Either way, I am sure there are plenty of places to keep you busy is you so wish to capture them all upon canvas.”
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As Imma began to explain her thought process, Achilleas had come to stand at her shoulder so he might try and see what she saw. He supposed he could see the difference in light between the image rendered on canvas and the scene before him, but hed put it down to artistic interpretation rather than a natural shift in the sun’s position.
“I see,” he said, tilting his head a little and trying very hard to do just that. The Mikaelidas man had never claimed to be one particularly moved by the arts. He could appreciate them to some degree, but he wasn’t one to find himself lost in rapture when listening to a piece of music or viewing a painting. He could attribute a certain level of skill to the young girl beside him based upon her ability to replicate the vista before her, but beyond that, he didn’t feel particularly qualified to pass judgment. “ You are dedicated” he observed instead, because if she had come back to the palati three separate times, then that was true at least.
When the young Leventi had bid the servants put her things away and turned her question to the new King, Achilleas frowned a little as he considered. There were many parts of the palati that were beautiful: be it architecturally or landscaped. The Grand Foyer could be breathtaking to those who saw it for the first time, or the war room held so much history in the shields that lined the walls that he thought there was much to be told in that.
“Ah, well I am no artist” he hedged, a brief, self-deprecating smile before he began to walk, leaving Imma to fall into step beside him. He had spent enough time in the palace to know most of its secrets, visiting with his cousins or later at court events, but now when asked such a simple question, he floundered a little in coming up with an answer.
“The reflection pool perhaps?” he offered because no one could argue against the beauty of that spot where the earth had been dug down to welcome the waters of the Aegean. On a clear night, the water captured a blanket of stars upon its surface. It was a beautiful spot, even more so since that little issues with leeches had been dealt with. Achilleas was not about to share the story of that night with Theodora’s younger sister though, and so he moved on.
“Or perhaps the northern gardens….there is a monopteros there that is quite striking.” He cleared his throat and glanced at Imma. “Either way, I am sure there are plenty of places to keep you busy is you so wish to capture them all upon canvas.”
As Imma began to explain her thought process, Achilleas had come to stand at her shoulder so he might try and see what she saw. He supposed he could see the difference in light between the image rendered on canvas and the scene before him, but hed put it down to artistic interpretation rather than a natural shift in the sun’s position.
“I see,” he said, tilting his head a little and trying very hard to do just that. The Mikaelidas man had never claimed to be one particularly moved by the arts. He could appreciate them to some degree, but he wasn’t one to find himself lost in rapture when listening to a piece of music or viewing a painting. He could attribute a certain level of skill to the young girl beside him based upon her ability to replicate the vista before her, but beyond that, he didn’t feel particularly qualified to pass judgment. “ You are dedicated” he observed instead, because if she had come back to the palati three separate times, then that was true at least.
When the young Leventi had bid the servants put her things away and turned her question to the new King, Achilleas frowned a little as he considered. There were many parts of the palati that were beautiful: be it architecturally or landscaped. The Grand Foyer could be breathtaking to those who saw it for the first time, or the war room held so much history in the shields that lined the walls that he thought there was much to be told in that.
“Ah, well I am no artist” he hedged, a brief, self-deprecating smile before he began to walk, leaving Imma to fall into step beside him. He had spent enough time in the palace to know most of its secrets, visiting with his cousins or later at court events, but now when asked such a simple question, he floundered a little in coming up with an answer.
“The reflection pool perhaps?” he offered because no one could argue against the beauty of that spot where the earth had been dug down to welcome the waters of the Aegean. On a clear night, the water captured a blanket of stars upon its surface. It was a beautiful spot, even more so since that little issues with leeches had been dealt with. Achilleas was not about to share the story of that night with Theodora’s younger sister though, and so he moved on.
“Or perhaps the northern gardens….there is a monopteros there that is quite striking.” He cleared his throat and glanced at Imma. “Either way, I am sure there are plenty of places to keep you busy is you so wish to capture them all upon canvas.”
Though Imma’s eyes never left the painting as she explained why she had chosen this location to the King, she could tell when he stepped forward because the scent of horse was stronger. She felt him looking over her shoulder and experienced the familiar pangs of anxiety that occurred whenever she showed her works to others. The feeling was not as powerful when her paintings were viewed from a distance. But he was scrutinizing it closely. No matter how often she dismissed the notion as silly, it seemed that when somebody studied her work, they were peering into her soul.
She wasn’t certain that Achilleas truly understood why she had painted this particular scene. His succinct comment was the same one she sometimes used when she was given an explanation that she couldn’t fully comprehend, which was more often than she would like. Not everyone was emotionally stirred by artwork. Some just saw a painting as a painting, plain and simple. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that. People reacted to art in a multitude of ways. There were even those who thought that painting was pointless. Maybe the King was unaffected by art. It was more likely that he just had other things on his mind.
Imma beamed when he said she was dedicated. “I am as dedicated to my painting as you are to ruling your kingdom,” she said brightly, realizing that was an unfair comparison as soon as the words left her lips. Heat rose beneath her cheeks, coloring them a pretty shade of rose. It was true, she supposed, though one activity was fun and relaxing and the other was definitely not.
Maybe Achilleas believed the opposite. He had been taught to rule and she had been taught to paint.
“Ah, well I am no artist.”
“You don’t have to be an artist to appreciate beauty,” she grinned. She thought he might refuse her request, but he began to walk and she fell into step beside him, attempting to keep up with his longer stride. When he stopped at the reflection pool, she was a bit winded and hoped he didn’t notice. “I haven’t tried painting here yet. Perhaps that is what I will do next.” Looking into the water, her own face stared back at her. There was a smudge of purple on her cheek and a spot of green on her nose. Several errant curls had escaped from her braid and one of them must have fallen on her palette without her notice because the end was not blonde but blue. Again, she blushed. The King had said nothing about her disheveled appearance. Maybe it didn't matter to him that she was splattered with paint.
The next stop was the monopteros in the northern part of the garden. Trying to forget her embarrassment, Imma stepped inside, bracing her hand upon a column and skipping around it using her body’s momentum. “You have wonderful ideas, Your Majesty. This would be the perfect place for a portrait as well.”
Letting go, she walked back over to Achilleas. “I promised you a painting when we were at the beach. What … or who … would you like me to paint for you?"
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Though Imma’s eyes never left the painting as she explained why she had chosen this location to the King, she could tell when he stepped forward because the scent of horse was stronger. She felt him looking over her shoulder and experienced the familiar pangs of anxiety that occurred whenever she showed her works to others. The feeling was not as powerful when her paintings were viewed from a distance. But he was scrutinizing it closely. No matter how often she dismissed the notion as silly, it seemed that when somebody studied her work, they were peering into her soul.
She wasn’t certain that Achilleas truly understood why she had painted this particular scene. His succinct comment was the same one she sometimes used when she was given an explanation that she couldn’t fully comprehend, which was more often than she would like. Not everyone was emotionally stirred by artwork. Some just saw a painting as a painting, plain and simple. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that. People reacted to art in a multitude of ways. There were even those who thought that painting was pointless. Maybe the King was unaffected by art. It was more likely that he just had other things on his mind.
Imma beamed when he said she was dedicated. “I am as dedicated to my painting as you are to ruling your kingdom,” she said brightly, realizing that was an unfair comparison as soon as the words left her lips. Heat rose beneath her cheeks, coloring them a pretty shade of rose. It was true, she supposed, though one activity was fun and relaxing and the other was definitely not.
Maybe Achilleas believed the opposite. He had been taught to rule and she had been taught to paint.
“Ah, well I am no artist.”
“You don’t have to be an artist to appreciate beauty,” she grinned. She thought he might refuse her request, but he began to walk and she fell into step beside him, attempting to keep up with his longer stride. When he stopped at the reflection pool, she was a bit winded and hoped he didn’t notice. “I haven’t tried painting here yet. Perhaps that is what I will do next.” Looking into the water, her own face stared back at her. There was a smudge of purple on her cheek and a spot of green on her nose. Several errant curls had escaped from her braid and one of them must have fallen on her palette without her notice because the end was not blonde but blue. Again, she blushed. The King had said nothing about her disheveled appearance. Maybe it didn't matter to him that she was splattered with paint.
The next stop was the monopteros in the northern part of the garden. Trying to forget her embarrassment, Imma stepped inside, bracing her hand upon a column and skipping around it using her body’s momentum. “You have wonderful ideas, Your Majesty. This would be the perfect place for a portrait as well.”
Letting go, she walked back over to Achilleas. “I promised you a painting when we were at the beach. What … or who … would you like me to paint for you?"
Though Imma’s eyes never left the painting as she explained why she had chosen this location to the King, she could tell when he stepped forward because the scent of horse was stronger. She felt him looking over her shoulder and experienced the familiar pangs of anxiety that occurred whenever she showed her works to others. The feeling was not as powerful when her paintings were viewed from a distance. But he was scrutinizing it closely. No matter how often she dismissed the notion as silly, it seemed that when somebody studied her work, they were peering into her soul.
She wasn’t certain that Achilleas truly understood why she had painted this particular scene. His succinct comment was the same one she sometimes used when she was given an explanation that she couldn’t fully comprehend, which was more often than she would like. Not everyone was emotionally stirred by artwork. Some just saw a painting as a painting, plain and simple. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that. People reacted to art in a multitude of ways. There were even those who thought that painting was pointless. Maybe the King was unaffected by art. It was more likely that he just had other things on his mind.
Imma beamed when he said she was dedicated. “I am as dedicated to my painting as you are to ruling your kingdom,” she said brightly, realizing that was an unfair comparison as soon as the words left her lips. Heat rose beneath her cheeks, coloring them a pretty shade of rose. It was true, she supposed, though one activity was fun and relaxing and the other was definitely not.
Maybe Achilleas believed the opposite. He had been taught to rule and she had been taught to paint.
“Ah, well I am no artist.”
“You don’t have to be an artist to appreciate beauty,” she grinned. She thought he might refuse her request, but he began to walk and she fell into step beside him, attempting to keep up with his longer stride. When he stopped at the reflection pool, she was a bit winded and hoped he didn’t notice. “I haven’t tried painting here yet. Perhaps that is what I will do next.” Looking into the water, her own face stared back at her. There was a smudge of purple on her cheek and a spot of green on her nose. Several errant curls had escaped from her braid and one of them must have fallen on her palette without her notice because the end was not blonde but blue. Again, she blushed. The King had said nothing about her disheveled appearance. Maybe it didn't matter to him that she was splattered with paint.
The next stop was the monopteros in the northern part of the garden. Trying to forget her embarrassment, Imma stepped inside, bracing her hand upon a column and skipping around it using her body’s momentum. “You have wonderful ideas, Your Majesty. This would be the perfect place for a portrait as well.”
Letting go, she walked back over to Achilleas. “I promised you a painting when we were at the beach. What … or who … would you like me to paint for you?"
He’d looked at her a little oddly when she drew her comparison between her painting as his ruling. The circumstances of him becoming king were still raw, and the responsibility that went along with it felt heavy. Not one averse to hard work, it was the sudden change that didn’t suit Achilleas, a man who much preferred having the opportunity to plan and grow used to an idea before it was thrust upon him.
But even as he gazed at her, Imma clearly realised the awkward way her word had fallen, and her blush was enough to have the King smile blandly to try and alleviate her embarrassment. “ I can only hope my dedication will pay off as beautifully as yours has” he offered, returning his attention to the painting so as not to witness her discomfort.
As they walked, the King was quiet, clearly his mind elsewhere and not focused on the beautiful grounds that they walked through. Autumn had crept up on Taengea almost unnoticed amidst the scandal and tragedies that had beset her people, but in the gardens and the far-reaching fields, the sun-bleached golds of summer had given way to a soft, damp green. Silvered olive trees and the last breath bronze of the vine leaves as they wilted and fell. It was a vista that deserved to be appreciated, but Achilleas’gaze was directed down towards the stone path they walked, a furrow carved deep between dark brows.
In truth, he had not registered the less than polished appearance of his sister-in-law, nor considered his own as he had come straight from the stables. Still, when they reached the monopteros and came to a halt, he looked up to find Imma had stepped within and he could not help but smile at her enthusiasm as she spun around the carved stone pillar.
“I’m sure you would do it justice too,” he said in reply to her assertion that it would make a good spot for a portrait. “In fact” The king paused and tilted his head as he looked at the scene “... I think there is a portrait of my great Aunt sat out here, hanging in the great gallery. So perhaps not that original.”
When Imma stepped back out to join him, Achilleas’ raised his brows at her words. She had said that, and he had forgotten, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to suggest, and it showed on his face for a moment. “ So you did…” he mused, to buy himself a little more time. Euttica was his favourite place, but he could hardly expect a young lady to travel out there. So his answer when it came was not entirely unpredictable.
“Your sister, then, if she’ll let you?” Theodora was a more than fitting subject for a portrait, her beauty well deserving of being immortalised on canvas.
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He’d looked at her a little oddly when she drew her comparison between her painting as his ruling. The circumstances of him becoming king were still raw, and the responsibility that went along with it felt heavy. Not one averse to hard work, it was the sudden change that didn’t suit Achilleas, a man who much preferred having the opportunity to plan and grow used to an idea before it was thrust upon him.
But even as he gazed at her, Imma clearly realised the awkward way her word had fallen, and her blush was enough to have the King smile blandly to try and alleviate her embarrassment. “ I can only hope my dedication will pay off as beautifully as yours has” he offered, returning his attention to the painting so as not to witness her discomfort.
As they walked, the King was quiet, clearly his mind elsewhere and not focused on the beautiful grounds that they walked through. Autumn had crept up on Taengea almost unnoticed amidst the scandal and tragedies that had beset her people, but in the gardens and the far-reaching fields, the sun-bleached golds of summer had given way to a soft, damp green. Silvered olive trees and the last breath bronze of the vine leaves as they wilted and fell. It was a vista that deserved to be appreciated, but Achilleas’gaze was directed down towards the stone path they walked, a furrow carved deep between dark brows.
In truth, he had not registered the less than polished appearance of his sister-in-law, nor considered his own as he had come straight from the stables. Still, when they reached the monopteros and came to a halt, he looked up to find Imma had stepped within and he could not help but smile at her enthusiasm as she spun around the carved stone pillar.
“I’m sure you would do it justice too,” he said in reply to her assertion that it would make a good spot for a portrait. “In fact” The king paused and tilted his head as he looked at the scene “... I think there is a portrait of my great Aunt sat out here, hanging in the great gallery. So perhaps not that original.”
When Imma stepped back out to join him, Achilleas’ raised his brows at her words. She had said that, and he had forgotten, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to suggest, and it showed on his face for a moment. “ So you did…” he mused, to buy himself a little more time. Euttica was his favourite place, but he could hardly expect a young lady to travel out there. So his answer when it came was not entirely unpredictable.
“Your sister, then, if she’ll let you?” Theodora was a more than fitting subject for a portrait, her beauty well deserving of being immortalised on canvas.
He’d looked at her a little oddly when she drew her comparison between her painting as his ruling. The circumstances of him becoming king were still raw, and the responsibility that went along with it felt heavy. Not one averse to hard work, it was the sudden change that didn’t suit Achilleas, a man who much preferred having the opportunity to plan and grow used to an idea before it was thrust upon him.
But even as he gazed at her, Imma clearly realised the awkward way her word had fallen, and her blush was enough to have the King smile blandly to try and alleviate her embarrassment. “ I can only hope my dedication will pay off as beautifully as yours has” he offered, returning his attention to the painting so as not to witness her discomfort.
As they walked, the King was quiet, clearly his mind elsewhere and not focused on the beautiful grounds that they walked through. Autumn had crept up on Taengea almost unnoticed amidst the scandal and tragedies that had beset her people, but in the gardens and the far-reaching fields, the sun-bleached golds of summer had given way to a soft, damp green. Silvered olive trees and the last breath bronze of the vine leaves as they wilted and fell. It was a vista that deserved to be appreciated, but Achilleas’gaze was directed down towards the stone path they walked, a furrow carved deep between dark brows.
In truth, he had not registered the less than polished appearance of his sister-in-law, nor considered his own as he had come straight from the stables. Still, when they reached the monopteros and came to a halt, he looked up to find Imma had stepped within and he could not help but smile at her enthusiasm as she spun around the carved stone pillar.
“I’m sure you would do it justice too,” he said in reply to her assertion that it would make a good spot for a portrait. “In fact” The king paused and tilted his head as he looked at the scene “... I think there is a portrait of my great Aunt sat out here, hanging in the great gallery. So perhaps not that original.”
When Imma stepped back out to join him, Achilleas’ raised his brows at her words. She had said that, and he had forgotten, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to suggest, and it showed on his face for a moment. “ So you did…” he mused, to buy himself a little more time. Euttica was his favourite place, but he could hardly expect a young lady to travel out there. So his answer when it came was not entirely unpredictable.
“Your sister, then, if she’ll let you?” Theodora was a more than fitting subject for a portrait, her beauty well deserving of being immortalised on canvas.
The king either didn’t notice how mortified she was or chose not to call attention to it. Most likely the latter. Good rulers didn’t comment on the discomfort of their subjects. They tried to lessen it, which was most likely the aim of his next compliment. He also averted his gaze while Imma regained her composure. “It will,” she assured him. “Taengea will thrive during your reign. I read once that sometimes the best kings are those who have the position thrust upon them.” That quote came from a romance novel, but he didn’t need to know that.
Achilleas didn’t say much as they walked. She gazed up at him from time to time. He looked like he was lost in thought. Maybe this little excursion was good for him, allowing him to forget about his duties for a short while. She had wondered if he might be taking a break when she had first seen him today. Perhaps he also wished for the quiet companionship of somebody who didn’t want anything from him. Imma fit that description perfectly. So did his horse, she supposed, but at least she didn’t bite.
He didn’t respond to her remark about the reflecting pool either. She wished that she could dip her hands in the water and wipe her paint-smudged face … or dunk her whole head to wash the color from her hair as well. All she had seen was one blue curl. There was no telling what hue the rest of her hair was. But that would look weird. She didn’t want the King of Taengea to think his youngest sister-in-law was weird. Nana was the weird one, in her opinion.
As they strolled toward the monopteros, she looked around her for more interesting places to paint and eventually she forgot all about her disheveled appearance. Some of her friends thought autumn was depressing because the flowers and trees lost their foliage, but Imma loved the changing colors and the way the leaves fluttered down from the trees. It was a gorgeous season to paint and the palati garden was full of picturesque settings.
The montopteros was one of them. A few leaves in the shades of red and gold had landed on the marble floor and there would be more in the days to come. Imma decided she would return next week to see what it looked like then. When she mentioned that the structure would be a good place for portraits, Achilleas finally spoke again, both agreeing with her and telling her that at least one portrait had already been painted there. That fact did not discourage her.
“Everything has been done before. But each artist adds their own style and personal touches to make it their own.”
She wasn’t surprised that the king asked her to paint Theo. “I will paint her here, if she agrees. Then you can compare it to the portrait of your great aunt and see how distinctive they are.” Little did she know that her sister had an entirely different idea on how she wanted to be painted.
“Maybe I could paint the two of you together as well. You probably have a professional artist in mind for your official portraits. Mine would be more casual, without all the pomp and circumstance.”
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The king either didn’t notice how mortified she was or chose not to call attention to it. Most likely the latter. Good rulers didn’t comment on the discomfort of their subjects. They tried to lessen it, which was most likely the aim of his next compliment. He also averted his gaze while Imma regained her composure. “It will,” she assured him. “Taengea will thrive during your reign. I read once that sometimes the best kings are those who have the position thrust upon them.” That quote came from a romance novel, but he didn’t need to know that.
Achilleas didn’t say much as they walked. She gazed up at him from time to time. He looked like he was lost in thought. Maybe this little excursion was good for him, allowing him to forget about his duties for a short while. She had wondered if he might be taking a break when she had first seen him today. Perhaps he also wished for the quiet companionship of somebody who didn’t want anything from him. Imma fit that description perfectly. So did his horse, she supposed, but at least she didn’t bite.
He didn’t respond to her remark about the reflecting pool either. She wished that she could dip her hands in the water and wipe her paint-smudged face … or dunk her whole head to wash the color from her hair as well. All she had seen was one blue curl. There was no telling what hue the rest of her hair was. But that would look weird. She didn’t want the King of Taengea to think his youngest sister-in-law was weird. Nana was the weird one, in her opinion.
As they strolled toward the monopteros, she looked around her for more interesting places to paint and eventually she forgot all about her disheveled appearance. Some of her friends thought autumn was depressing because the flowers and trees lost their foliage, but Imma loved the changing colors and the way the leaves fluttered down from the trees. It was a gorgeous season to paint and the palati garden was full of picturesque settings.
The montopteros was one of them. A few leaves in the shades of red and gold had landed on the marble floor and there would be more in the days to come. Imma decided she would return next week to see what it looked like then. When she mentioned that the structure would be a good place for portraits, Achilleas finally spoke again, both agreeing with her and telling her that at least one portrait had already been painted there. That fact did not discourage her.
“Everything has been done before. But each artist adds their own style and personal touches to make it their own.”
She wasn’t surprised that the king asked her to paint Theo. “I will paint her here, if she agrees. Then you can compare it to the portrait of your great aunt and see how distinctive they are.” Little did she know that her sister had an entirely different idea on how she wanted to be painted.
“Maybe I could paint the two of you together as well. You probably have a professional artist in mind for your official portraits. Mine would be more casual, without all the pomp and circumstance.”
The king either didn’t notice how mortified she was or chose not to call attention to it. Most likely the latter. Good rulers didn’t comment on the discomfort of their subjects. They tried to lessen it, which was most likely the aim of his next compliment. He also averted his gaze while Imma regained her composure. “It will,” she assured him. “Taengea will thrive during your reign. I read once that sometimes the best kings are those who have the position thrust upon them.” That quote came from a romance novel, but he didn’t need to know that.
Achilleas didn’t say much as they walked. She gazed up at him from time to time. He looked like he was lost in thought. Maybe this little excursion was good for him, allowing him to forget about his duties for a short while. She had wondered if he might be taking a break when she had first seen him today. Perhaps he also wished for the quiet companionship of somebody who didn’t want anything from him. Imma fit that description perfectly. So did his horse, she supposed, but at least she didn’t bite.
He didn’t respond to her remark about the reflecting pool either. She wished that she could dip her hands in the water and wipe her paint-smudged face … or dunk her whole head to wash the color from her hair as well. All she had seen was one blue curl. There was no telling what hue the rest of her hair was. But that would look weird. She didn’t want the King of Taengea to think his youngest sister-in-law was weird. Nana was the weird one, in her opinion.
As they strolled toward the monopteros, she looked around her for more interesting places to paint and eventually she forgot all about her disheveled appearance. Some of her friends thought autumn was depressing because the flowers and trees lost their foliage, but Imma loved the changing colors and the way the leaves fluttered down from the trees. It was a gorgeous season to paint and the palati garden was full of picturesque settings.
The montopteros was one of them. A few leaves in the shades of red and gold had landed on the marble floor and there would be more in the days to come. Imma decided she would return next week to see what it looked like then. When she mentioned that the structure would be a good place for portraits, Achilleas finally spoke again, both agreeing with her and telling her that at least one portrait had already been painted there. That fact did not discourage her.
“Everything has been done before. But each artist adds their own style and personal touches to make it their own.”
She wasn’t surprised that the king asked her to paint Theo. “I will paint her here, if she agrees. Then you can compare it to the portrait of your great aunt and see how distinctive they are.” Little did she know that her sister had an entirely different idea on how she wanted to be painted.
“Maybe I could paint the two of you together as well. You probably have a professional artist in mind for your official portraits. Mine would be more casual, without all the pomp and circumstance.”
There was a little truth in the young girl’s assessment of the King’s demeanour. He had not been seeking company, after all, but it would have been rude in the extreme not to have said hello to his sister in law once he had come upon her, and that would never do. As it was, Imma proved fair enough company. She didn’t ask questions that were too personal, didn’t look at him as though expecting him to have an answer for everything or worse, with that sort of slightly pitying look upon her face.
He knew he wasn’t particularly original in asking her to paint her sister, but with so much already on his mind, Achilleas had little space left to really consider such an offer. However, he did almost crack a smile when she mentioned comparing her painting of Theodora with the one of his relatives. “I’m not sure my opinion in such a review could be considered impartial” he replied, with a wry arch of a brow. And he certainly didn’t want to be looking at pictures of his great Aunt in a manner that would be comparable with how he’d view one of his wife. In hindsight, the picture he would end up being presented with would in no way lend itself to such a thing, but in the moment, the King had no such clue.
When Imma spoke of official portraits, Achilleas looked at her blankly. He absolutely didn’t have an artist in mind, mostly because the very notion of having a portrait painted had not crossed his mind. There had been much more pressing matters to attend to, but he realised with some dismay that it was probably one of those items on the long lists the palati stewards were always bustling about with.
“I can manage quite well without any additional pomp and circumstance” he muttered darkly, There was the coronation to come in a couple of days and honestly, if Achilleas could have wished it away he might have done. He understood why it needed to happen, but already uneasy at how his father had come to the throne, that had not disappeared upon his death. And now to so very publicly take his cousin’s place? Well, he was not relishing it, that was for certain.
But the man seemed to catch himself and smiled faintly instead to soften his words. It wasn’t for him to complain to his sister in law about such things, and instead, he went on. “I haven’t anyone in mind either, so you are welcome to do it if you’d like to? Probably after I have returned…”
There his words trailed off, because there were no guarantees of course, in war. Whilst a proven and capable soldier, Achilleas did not like to tempt the fates by assuming bravado and ignoring the risks of battle, even though he had tried to downplay the conversations he’d had with Theodora. It was not as if she needed the additional burden of worry what with everything else that had so suddenly been thrust upon her.
“Mention it to Theodora. I’m sure there is somebody who shall write it down somewhere lest it is forgotten.”
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Dec 11, 2020 13:09:08 GMT
Posted In True Colors on Dec 11, 2020 13:09:08 GMT
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There was a little truth in the young girl’s assessment of the King’s demeanour. He had not been seeking company, after all, but it would have been rude in the extreme not to have said hello to his sister in law once he had come upon her, and that would never do. As it was, Imma proved fair enough company. She didn’t ask questions that were too personal, didn’t look at him as though expecting him to have an answer for everything or worse, with that sort of slightly pitying look upon her face.
He knew he wasn’t particularly original in asking her to paint her sister, but with so much already on his mind, Achilleas had little space left to really consider such an offer. However, he did almost crack a smile when she mentioned comparing her painting of Theodora with the one of his relatives. “I’m not sure my opinion in such a review could be considered impartial” he replied, with a wry arch of a brow. And he certainly didn’t want to be looking at pictures of his great Aunt in a manner that would be comparable with how he’d view one of his wife. In hindsight, the picture he would end up being presented with would in no way lend itself to such a thing, but in the moment, the King had no such clue.
When Imma spoke of official portraits, Achilleas looked at her blankly. He absolutely didn’t have an artist in mind, mostly because the very notion of having a portrait painted had not crossed his mind. There had been much more pressing matters to attend to, but he realised with some dismay that it was probably one of those items on the long lists the palati stewards were always bustling about with.
“I can manage quite well without any additional pomp and circumstance” he muttered darkly, There was the coronation to come in a couple of days and honestly, if Achilleas could have wished it away he might have done. He understood why it needed to happen, but already uneasy at how his father had come to the throne, that had not disappeared upon his death. And now to so very publicly take his cousin’s place? Well, he was not relishing it, that was for certain.
But the man seemed to catch himself and smiled faintly instead to soften his words. It wasn’t for him to complain to his sister in law about such things, and instead, he went on. “I haven’t anyone in mind either, so you are welcome to do it if you’d like to? Probably after I have returned…”
There his words trailed off, because there were no guarantees of course, in war. Whilst a proven and capable soldier, Achilleas did not like to tempt the fates by assuming bravado and ignoring the risks of battle, even though he had tried to downplay the conversations he’d had with Theodora. It was not as if she needed the additional burden of worry what with everything else that had so suddenly been thrust upon her.
“Mention it to Theodora. I’m sure there is somebody who shall write it down somewhere lest it is forgotten.”
There was a little truth in the young girl’s assessment of the King’s demeanour. He had not been seeking company, after all, but it would have been rude in the extreme not to have said hello to his sister in law once he had come upon her, and that would never do. As it was, Imma proved fair enough company. She didn’t ask questions that were too personal, didn’t look at him as though expecting him to have an answer for everything or worse, with that sort of slightly pitying look upon her face.
He knew he wasn’t particularly original in asking her to paint her sister, but with so much already on his mind, Achilleas had little space left to really consider such an offer. However, he did almost crack a smile when she mentioned comparing her painting of Theodora with the one of his relatives. “I’m not sure my opinion in such a review could be considered impartial” he replied, with a wry arch of a brow. And he certainly didn’t want to be looking at pictures of his great Aunt in a manner that would be comparable with how he’d view one of his wife. In hindsight, the picture he would end up being presented with would in no way lend itself to such a thing, but in the moment, the King had no such clue.
When Imma spoke of official portraits, Achilleas looked at her blankly. He absolutely didn’t have an artist in mind, mostly because the very notion of having a portrait painted had not crossed his mind. There had been much more pressing matters to attend to, but he realised with some dismay that it was probably one of those items on the long lists the palati stewards were always bustling about with.
“I can manage quite well without any additional pomp and circumstance” he muttered darkly, There was the coronation to come in a couple of days and honestly, if Achilleas could have wished it away he might have done. He understood why it needed to happen, but already uneasy at how his father had come to the throne, that had not disappeared upon his death. And now to so very publicly take his cousin’s place? Well, he was not relishing it, that was for certain.
But the man seemed to catch himself and smiled faintly instead to soften his words. It wasn’t for him to complain to his sister in law about such things, and instead, he went on. “I haven’t anyone in mind either, so you are welcome to do it if you’d like to? Probably after I have returned…”
There his words trailed off, because there were no guarantees of course, in war. Whilst a proven and capable soldier, Achilleas did not like to tempt the fates by assuming bravado and ignoring the risks of battle, even though he had tried to downplay the conversations he’d had with Theodora. It was not as if she needed the additional burden of worry what with everything else that had so suddenly been thrust upon her.
“Mention it to Theodora. I’m sure there is somebody who shall write it down somewhere lest it is forgotten.”
“I’m not sure my opinion in such a review could be considered impartial”
Imma laughed and shook her head emphatically. Her unruly platinum curls spun around her, bouncing against her back and over her shoulders. Their golden highlights glittered in the bright light of the sun. “I didn’t mean it like that. Look beyond the subjects and compare the styles. You will see that the same surroundings look different in both paintings, because they were observed by two points of view.”
She had not visited the portrait gallery in the palati yet. Until her painting of Theo was finished, she would stay away from it. Imma didn’t want the long-ago artist’s interpretation of the montopteros to color her own. When she was done, she would take it there before she gave it to Achilleas and compare them herself, simply because she was curious. The other painter had probably been older and more experienced. She was young and enthusiastic and she believed that her cheerful, youthful outlook would shine through.
The King stared at her blankly when she mentioned official portraits. Didn’t all rulers have them? She’d seen paintings of long dead royals in books, usually standing or sitting stiffly and staring straight ahead with bored looks on their faces. Did Taengea not share that tradition? Dowager Queen Elise had probably had herself and her husband painted when they were first married and perhaps one with their family after all their children were born. She assumed that the portrait of Achilleas great-aunt was an official one too.
Only a trip to the gallery would tell and that would have to wait. It was possible that any art depicting the dethroned branch of the Mikaelidas family had been removed from the palati already. Imma doubted that there had been any time for the former King Stephanos to have a portrait painted with Pia. If her brother-in-law moved back to Taengea or she was allowed to visit Colchis with her sister, she would suggest it.
“I haven’t anyone in mind either, so you are welcome to do it if you’d like to? Probably after I have returned…”
“Oh I would love to!” she exclaimed as she untangled an errant ringlet from her necklace. Of course it was the blue one. His last words sank in as her excitement began to subside. No wonder he had not thought about official portraits with the upcoming war foremost in his mind. The King seemed unsure that he would return at all. Imma felt sorry for him and all of the other men who were going with him. Not all of them would come home. Achilleas looked so brave but he must be terrified.
For a moment her smile faltered and then it blossomed across her pretty face again. “Yes, when you return. I will tell Theo and she and I will plan it while you are away.” Her sister would need to keep occupied or she would worry herself to death. Imma promised herself to spend a lot of time with her while her husband was off battling Egyptians. She would have called them evil Egyptians but that general she had spoken to a few months ago was too handsome to be evil.
“You will return,” she said softly. “I know you will. You and Theo will reign over Taengea until you are both old and gray.”
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“I’m not sure my opinion in such a review could be considered impartial”
Imma laughed and shook her head emphatically. Her unruly platinum curls spun around her, bouncing against her back and over her shoulders. Their golden highlights glittered in the bright light of the sun. “I didn’t mean it like that. Look beyond the subjects and compare the styles. You will see that the same surroundings look different in both paintings, because they were observed by two points of view.”
She had not visited the portrait gallery in the palati yet. Until her painting of Theo was finished, she would stay away from it. Imma didn’t want the long-ago artist’s interpretation of the montopteros to color her own. When she was done, she would take it there before she gave it to Achilleas and compare them herself, simply because she was curious. The other painter had probably been older and more experienced. She was young and enthusiastic and she believed that her cheerful, youthful outlook would shine through.
The King stared at her blankly when she mentioned official portraits. Didn’t all rulers have them? She’d seen paintings of long dead royals in books, usually standing or sitting stiffly and staring straight ahead with bored looks on their faces. Did Taengea not share that tradition? Dowager Queen Elise had probably had herself and her husband painted when they were first married and perhaps one with their family after all their children were born. She assumed that the portrait of Achilleas great-aunt was an official one too.
Only a trip to the gallery would tell and that would have to wait. It was possible that any art depicting the dethroned branch of the Mikaelidas family had been removed from the palati already. Imma doubted that there had been any time for the former King Stephanos to have a portrait painted with Pia. If her brother-in-law moved back to Taengea or she was allowed to visit Colchis with her sister, she would suggest it.
“I haven’t anyone in mind either, so you are welcome to do it if you’d like to? Probably after I have returned…”
“Oh I would love to!” she exclaimed as she untangled an errant ringlet from her necklace. Of course it was the blue one. His last words sank in as her excitement began to subside. No wonder he had not thought about official portraits with the upcoming war foremost in his mind. The King seemed unsure that he would return at all. Imma felt sorry for him and all of the other men who were going with him. Not all of them would come home. Achilleas looked so brave but he must be terrified.
For a moment her smile faltered and then it blossomed across her pretty face again. “Yes, when you return. I will tell Theo and she and I will plan it while you are away.” Her sister would need to keep occupied or she would worry herself to death. Imma promised herself to spend a lot of time with her while her husband was off battling Egyptians. She would have called them evil Egyptians but that general she had spoken to a few months ago was too handsome to be evil.
“You will return,” she said softly. “I know you will. You and Theo will reign over Taengea until you are both old and gray.”
“I’m not sure my opinion in such a review could be considered impartial”
Imma laughed and shook her head emphatically. Her unruly platinum curls spun around her, bouncing against her back and over her shoulders. Their golden highlights glittered in the bright light of the sun. “I didn’t mean it like that. Look beyond the subjects and compare the styles. You will see that the same surroundings look different in both paintings, because they were observed by two points of view.”
She had not visited the portrait gallery in the palati yet. Until her painting of Theo was finished, she would stay away from it. Imma didn’t want the long-ago artist’s interpretation of the montopteros to color her own. When she was done, she would take it there before she gave it to Achilleas and compare them herself, simply because she was curious. The other painter had probably been older and more experienced. She was young and enthusiastic and she believed that her cheerful, youthful outlook would shine through.
The King stared at her blankly when she mentioned official portraits. Didn’t all rulers have them? She’d seen paintings of long dead royals in books, usually standing or sitting stiffly and staring straight ahead with bored looks on their faces. Did Taengea not share that tradition? Dowager Queen Elise had probably had herself and her husband painted when they were first married and perhaps one with their family after all their children were born. She assumed that the portrait of Achilleas great-aunt was an official one too.
Only a trip to the gallery would tell and that would have to wait. It was possible that any art depicting the dethroned branch of the Mikaelidas family had been removed from the palati already. Imma doubted that there had been any time for the former King Stephanos to have a portrait painted with Pia. If her brother-in-law moved back to Taengea or she was allowed to visit Colchis with her sister, she would suggest it.
“I haven’t anyone in mind either, so you are welcome to do it if you’d like to? Probably after I have returned…”
“Oh I would love to!” she exclaimed as she untangled an errant ringlet from her necklace. Of course it was the blue one. His last words sank in as her excitement began to subside. No wonder he had not thought about official portraits with the upcoming war foremost in his mind. The King seemed unsure that he would return at all. Imma felt sorry for him and all of the other men who were going with him. Not all of them would come home. Achilleas looked so brave but he must be terrified.
For a moment her smile faltered and then it blossomed across her pretty face again. “Yes, when you return. I will tell Theo and she and I will plan it while you are away.” Her sister would need to keep occupied or she would worry herself to death. Imma promised herself to spend a lot of time with her while her husband was off battling Egyptians. She would have called them evil Egyptians but that general she had spoken to a few months ago was too handsome to be evil.
“You will return,” she said softly. “I know you will. You and Theo will reign over Taengea until you are both old and gray.”
Achilleas gave a rueful smile - he was obviously not understanding an artist’spoint of view, and he wasn’t so unaware of his own limitations that he couldn’t admit it. “I shall concede to the expert then and wait until I see them before me,” he said. He was content enough to let her run away with the idea of official portraits too; it seemed too distant a thing to spare any worry for. There was so much to happen before it could become anything meaningful.
But as the smile on the face of his sister-in-law flickered and dimmed, Achilleas almost wished he had not mentioned his leaving at all. It seemed an undercurrent to everything, but one that people did not like to talk about. As a soldier, one had to be pragmatic about such things. As a King even more so. But Achilleas could read Imma’s discomfort well enough that he was readying some flippant to say to move the conversation on.
The young girl had smoothed away the momentary distress though, and now she was making no doubt well-intentioned but still rather naive declarations as to what the future held. For Achilleas, having watched his family drop like flies in proximity to the crown, it was hard to be quite so optimistic. But he tried anyway.
“You are kind to say so. I am sure the Gods have their plans, and we must do what we can to appease them. But this is heavy talk for a day so fair, and I didn’t intend to interrupt you to burden you with such things. Do you have plans now?”
He knew there was a long list of things awaiting his attention inside and that he should be using his time to accomplish as much as he could in the few days he had left before they would sail, but Imma was refreshing company and he found himself glad to have bumped into her despite his earlier reticence.
“Might I escort you to find Theodora? If you are done, of course, you are welcome to stay out here if you mean to paint more? Otherwise, perhaps you might be of some company to your sister - I have not been doing too well at that.”
Which was true - there did not seem enough hours in the day to be both good husband and good king, and Achilleas was doing a middling job at both. He would be easier if he knew his wife had at least had some companionship - it must have been hard on her with her mother and sisters gone. Achilleas offered Imma a smile and his arm as he motioned back toward the palace “Shall we?”
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Jan 17, 2021 11:33:38 GMT
Posted In True Colors on Jan 17, 2021 11:33:38 GMT
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Achilleas gave a rueful smile - he was obviously not understanding an artist’spoint of view, and he wasn’t so unaware of his own limitations that he couldn’t admit it. “I shall concede to the expert then and wait until I see them before me,” he said. He was content enough to let her run away with the idea of official portraits too; it seemed too distant a thing to spare any worry for. There was so much to happen before it could become anything meaningful.
But as the smile on the face of his sister-in-law flickered and dimmed, Achilleas almost wished he had not mentioned his leaving at all. It seemed an undercurrent to everything, but one that people did not like to talk about. As a soldier, one had to be pragmatic about such things. As a King even more so. But Achilleas could read Imma’s discomfort well enough that he was readying some flippant to say to move the conversation on.
The young girl had smoothed away the momentary distress though, and now she was making no doubt well-intentioned but still rather naive declarations as to what the future held. For Achilleas, having watched his family drop like flies in proximity to the crown, it was hard to be quite so optimistic. But he tried anyway.
“You are kind to say so. I am sure the Gods have their plans, and we must do what we can to appease them. But this is heavy talk for a day so fair, and I didn’t intend to interrupt you to burden you with such things. Do you have plans now?”
He knew there was a long list of things awaiting his attention inside and that he should be using his time to accomplish as much as he could in the few days he had left before they would sail, but Imma was refreshing company and he found himself glad to have bumped into her despite his earlier reticence.
“Might I escort you to find Theodora? If you are done, of course, you are welcome to stay out here if you mean to paint more? Otherwise, perhaps you might be of some company to your sister - I have not been doing too well at that.”
Which was true - there did not seem enough hours in the day to be both good husband and good king, and Achilleas was doing a middling job at both. He would be easier if he knew his wife had at least had some companionship - it must have been hard on her with her mother and sisters gone. Achilleas offered Imma a smile and his arm as he motioned back toward the palace “Shall we?”
Achilleas gave a rueful smile - he was obviously not understanding an artist’spoint of view, and he wasn’t so unaware of his own limitations that he couldn’t admit it. “I shall concede to the expert then and wait until I see them before me,” he said. He was content enough to let her run away with the idea of official portraits too; it seemed too distant a thing to spare any worry for. There was so much to happen before it could become anything meaningful.
But as the smile on the face of his sister-in-law flickered and dimmed, Achilleas almost wished he had not mentioned his leaving at all. It seemed an undercurrent to everything, but one that people did not like to talk about. As a soldier, one had to be pragmatic about such things. As a King even more so. But Achilleas could read Imma’s discomfort well enough that he was readying some flippant to say to move the conversation on.
The young girl had smoothed away the momentary distress though, and now she was making no doubt well-intentioned but still rather naive declarations as to what the future held. For Achilleas, having watched his family drop like flies in proximity to the crown, it was hard to be quite so optimistic. But he tried anyway.
“You are kind to say so. I am sure the Gods have their plans, and we must do what we can to appease them. But this is heavy talk for a day so fair, and I didn’t intend to interrupt you to burden you with such things. Do you have plans now?”
He knew there was a long list of things awaiting his attention inside and that he should be using his time to accomplish as much as he could in the few days he had left before they would sail, but Imma was refreshing company and he found himself glad to have bumped into her despite his earlier reticence.
“Might I escort you to find Theodora? If you are done, of course, you are welcome to stay out here if you mean to paint more? Otherwise, perhaps you might be of some company to your sister - I have not been doing too well at that.”
Which was true - there did not seem enough hours in the day to be both good husband and good king, and Achilleas was doing a middling job at both. He would be easier if he knew his wife had at least had some companionship - it must have been hard on her with her mother and sisters gone. Achilleas offered Imma a smile and his arm as he motioned back toward the palace “Shall we?”
“You are kind to say so. I am sure the Gods have their plans, and we must do what we can to appease them. But this is heavy talk for a day so fair, and I didn’t intend to interrupt you to burden you with such things. Do you have plans now?”
Yes, the gods had plans for everyone, and Imma was certain that they would help Achilleas to lead the Greek army to victory. The Egyptians had their own gods, but who knew if they were real? They might just be figments of their imaginations or maybe they didn’t interfere in the lives of their worshipers. The Greek deities cared about the people who believed in them and they would not let the kingdoms they presided over to fall into foreign hands.
Her father wasn’t going off to war. Uncle Fotios wasn’t either and Uncle Konstanos would probably stay behind too. He had never struck her as the fighting type. But this man … this king … standing before her, would be in charge and her other brother-in-law, the former king, would be clashing with the Egyptians too.
Imma vowed to spend as much time with Pia as she did with Theo. Maybe she could paint a portrait of her little niece every month, so that if the war lasted a long time, Stephanos could see how much she had grown in his absence.
The three of them could do fun things together like have picnics and go shopping. They would probably be too sad to plan pleasant excursions, so that would be up to her. Perhaps Nana would be willing to help, but Imma doubted she could drag her vain sister away from her mirror long enough.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she turned her attention back to the King. “It is I who should apologize. I was the one who brought it up.” His expression had prompted the talk of war, but she could have refused to speak about it and just continued on as if nothing was amiss. Imma took full blame for darkening the day with the shadows to come.
“Might I escort you to find Theodora? If you are done, of course, you are welcome to stay out here if you mean to paint more? Otherwise, perhaps you might be of some company to your sister - I have not been doing too well at that.”
“I am finished painting for the day. My servants have probably already packed up my supplies and taken them to my rooms. I would love for you to escort me to my sister, Your Majesty. We have much to talk about. I’m sure she knows how busy you are now and doesn’t expect you to be with her constantly.” Imma assumed that after the plans were finalized, he would spend most of his time with his new Queen before he had to leave her.
Smiling shyly, she took Achilleas’ arm and they began to walk back to the palati. “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to show me places worthy of painting. Our discussion has been quite enlightening and I have enjoyed it immensely.”
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“You are kind to say so. I am sure the Gods have their plans, and we must do what we can to appease them. But this is heavy talk for a day so fair, and I didn’t intend to interrupt you to burden you with such things. Do you have plans now?”
Yes, the gods had plans for everyone, and Imma was certain that they would help Achilleas to lead the Greek army to victory. The Egyptians had their own gods, but who knew if they were real? They might just be figments of their imaginations or maybe they didn’t interfere in the lives of their worshipers. The Greek deities cared about the people who believed in them and they would not let the kingdoms they presided over to fall into foreign hands.
Her father wasn’t going off to war. Uncle Fotios wasn’t either and Uncle Konstanos would probably stay behind too. He had never struck her as the fighting type. But this man … this king … standing before her, would be in charge and her other brother-in-law, the former king, would be clashing with the Egyptians too.
Imma vowed to spend as much time with Pia as she did with Theo. Maybe she could paint a portrait of her little niece every month, so that if the war lasted a long time, Stephanos could see how much she had grown in his absence.
The three of them could do fun things together like have picnics and go shopping. They would probably be too sad to plan pleasant excursions, so that would be up to her. Perhaps Nana would be willing to help, but Imma doubted she could drag her vain sister away from her mirror long enough.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she turned her attention back to the King. “It is I who should apologize. I was the one who brought it up.” His expression had prompted the talk of war, but she could have refused to speak about it and just continued on as if nothing was amiss. Imma took full blame for darkening the day with the shadows to come.
“Might I escort you to find Theodora? If you are done, of course, you are welcome to stay out here if you mean to paint more? Otherwise, perhaps you might be of some company to your sister - I have not been doing too well at that.”
“I am finished painting for the day. My servants have probably already packed up my supplies and taken them to my rooms. I would love for you to escort me to my sister, Your Majesty. We have much to talk about. I’m sure she knows how busy you are now and doesn’t expect you to be with her constantly.” Imma assumed that after the plans were finalized, he would spend most of his time with his new Queen before he had to leave her.
Smiling shyly, she took Achilleas’ arm and they began to walk back to the palati. “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to show me places worthy of painting. Our discussion has been quite enlightening and I have enjoyed it immensely.”
“You are kind to say so. I am sure the Gods have their plans, and we must do what we can to appease them. But this is heavy talk for a day so fair, and I didn’t intend to interrupt you to burden you with such things. Do you have plans now?”
Yes, the gods had plans for everyone, and Imma was certain that they would help Achilleas to lead the Greek army to victory. The Egyptians had their own gods, but who knew if they were real? They might just be figments of their imaginations or maybe they didn’t interfere in the lives of their worshipers. The Greek deities cared about the people who believed in them and they would not let the kingdoms they presided over to fall into foreign hands.
Her father wasn’t going off to war. Uncle Fotios wasn’t either and Uncle Konstanos would probably stay behind too. He had never struck her as the fighting type. But this man … this king … standing before her, would be in charge and her other brother-in-law, the former king, would be clashing with the Egyptians too.
Imma vowed to spend as much time with Pia as she did with Theo. Maybe she could paint a portrait of her little niece every month, so that if the war lasted a long time, Stephanos could see how much she had grown in his absence.
The three of them could do fun things together like have picnics and go shopping. They would probably be too sad to plan pleasant excursions, so that would be up to her. Perhaps Nana would be willing to help, but Imma doubted she could drag her vain sister away from her mirror long enough.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she turned her attention back to the King. “It is I who should apologize. I was the one who brought it up.” His expression had prompted the talk of war, but she could have refused to speak about it and just continued on as if nothing was amiss. Imma took full blame for darkening the day with the shadows to come.
“Might I escort you to find Theodora? If you are done, of course, you are welcome to stay out here if you mean to paint more? Otherwise, perhaps you might be of some company to your sister - I have not been doing too well at that.”
“I am finished painting for the day. My servants have probably already packed up my supplies and taken them to my rooms. I would love for you to escort me to my sister, Your Majesty. We have much to talk about. I’m sure she knows how busy you are now and doesn’t expect you to be with her constantly.” Imma assumed that after the plans were finalized, he would spend most of his time with his new Queen before he had to leave her.
Smiling shyly, she took Achilleas’ arm and they began to walk back to the palati. “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to show me places worthy of painting. Our discussion has been quite enlightening and I have enjoyed it immensely.”
