The Head of the House of Leventi said little on the walk towards the arcus. When the princess had insisted that it would take the same amount of time with her walking, he had simply tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. As if to say - "what kind of impression would I make if I rode into the arcus and had allowed the royal princess to walk?"

Once she was on the back of the creature, she had spoken to him of his kindness and generosity of spirit in aiding her on the road. He had simply dipped his head respectfully and shot a shy smile up and over his shoulder at her.

When they arrived at the arcus itself, Fotios had not needed to glance around at the setting. He knew exactly what it would look like, as he had inspected the stage, set up and the arcus itself the night before. Everything now just looked the same but bathed in sunshine instead of the moonlight.

Fotios was nothing if not paranoid and he had visited the arena in order to check that everything was perfect for his friend's nephew's coronation. Irakles had been so worried about the event and how Stephanos was going to behave or mess things up that the least he could do was offer to inspect the location. At least that was one thing his old friend would not have to have on his concerned mind.

Once they arrived, Fotios spotted his wife almost immediately, noting the way she had chosen a gown that would have all eyes on her instead of the newly crowned royals. Not one word could be made in complaint of course as she would simply argue that her provocative gown and jewels were all in celebration of the event, instead of a promotion of her voluptuous figure and stunning good looks.

It was an effort to restrain his smile, but Fotios had trained his features for many years before Eirini came into his life and just as many since.

Instead of leering at his own wife, Fotios was able to keep his expression neutral and effectively ignore her entirely. Instead, he turned to the young girl on the horse and reached up to help her down.

Resting his hands politely on either side of her waist, rather than her hips, Fotios helped Xene down to the ground and then took an appropriate step backwards. Bowing to her gracefully as his horse was led away by a slave tasked with stabling the guests' rides, Fotios waited for Xene to excuse herself and move to speak with her sister.

It was then that Fotios moved to stand beside his wife, placing a proprietary hand on the small of her back and placing at his to her shoulder. It was a long-held tradition that he didn't kiss her on the mouth or face when out just in case it ruined her efforts with the brush each morning. That, and it helped to offer a more open appearance amongst courtiers.

As he kissed the curve of his wife's shoulder, however, he couldn't resist allowing his gaze to lift upwards and across at the royal box, where he caught the gaze of the eldest princess.

A moment, a blink, and it was gone, Fotios focused on his wife and accompanying her to the seating for the noblemen.

It was there that he caught the eye of several nobles, many of whom looked him up and down, then stared admiringly at his wife, as they settled themselves in their seats and awaited the spectacle to begin.

It wasn't until they music began and Fotios was certain that they could not be overheard that he leaned in to murmur in his wife's ear.

"Do you dress in such a manner for your husband or for the dogs who stare at you this day...?" He asked her, outwardly flirting with his wife while trailing the tips of his fingers slowly up her exposed spine, as if a coronation wasn't happening around them.

Pia was glad for Desma's presence, the older woman had always been more comfort to her than her own mother, especially when said mother was currently clucking away with the dowager queen and making her head ache. She'd hardly slept at all last night, not only because most of the Leventi girls had crowded into her chambers. Her dreams weren't nightmares necessarily, but they were far from pleasant. She was terrified of being in public like this, exposed and primed for an attack. After Stephanos had revealed his fears during their ride she had kept a wary eye on everyone around her lest they prove to be spies for Irakles.

Seeing her husband should have brought her relief, especially as he took her hand and she smiled, prepared to lean on him for support during this day. She had never prepared for such a showing, her duty had always been told to her would be more about fading into the background and bearing children. Well. At least part of it was happening. His words made the smile fade from her lips and instead frown in concern, lifting a hand to his cheek before they would be forced to remain proper and apart.

"Why would you say that?"

Her heart raced in her chest and she looked around nervously, trying to keep the rising panic down as she gripped his hand tightly. Did he know something she didn't? Was another attack anticipated and they had chosen to keep it from her instead? Pia wasn't certain if the nausea she was feeling came from the anxiety or how quickly it felt as if the baby was kicking at her. Suddenly shaky, she released her hold on him as the music began and she held her head high, forcing a smile onto her lips even as her face paled with fear.

After that she was silent, keeping to the background and moving through the motions, trying not to flinch at the roar of the crowd and instead beaming as if it was the happiest day of her life, resting her hand on the obvious bump beneath her chiton. This was the first official showing of the future prince after all.

Unable to relax until the cloaks and jewels had been placed upon them, Pia sat as tall as she could in the chair, eyes fixed on a point opposite the royal box so that when the executions began she could appear to watch them without actually seeing most of it. From afar her expression was one of noble elegance, at ease but royal. Those who could see her up close though would be able to note the strain, the way her lips twitched and nostrils flared slightly as well as the white knuckles that held onto the arms of the throne. This was her life now.

Theo’s eyes snapped opened as Nana brushed her hand over her back. Instead of looking at Emilios, she looked at her younger sister and gave her a reassuring smile. Reaching behind her, she took the girls hand in hers and held it behind Imma’s back as she took Imma’s in her other hand. This is what she needed. Her sisters. Her strength. Her backbone and her courage. When all else went to dust, they remained. Even over all the men that would come in and out of their life, they had something far greater that tied them to each other. A bond that no marriage.. No crown could come between. “Yes, darling Nana. How very right you are.”

She leaned against Imma and rested her head on the girl's shoulder while holding on to Nana. She couldn’t care about who else was there.. The world was far too small right now; to macroscopic that she could only be in the here and now. Because if she extended her thoughts she would have to think about Emilios and Achilleas.

Their box filled in with more relatives; Fotios and Eirini’s arrival with their own girls and the crowds in the upper rings of the arena as well. The dull roar of excitement was loud until horns were blown and everyone settled in their seats to await the arrival of Stephanos and Pia. They were brought out in all their glory and Theo was genuinely happy for her sister. How proud she looked and how noble standing before what were now her people. She could think of no one else better equipped to be queen as a Leventi.. If not for her. Not having been able to witness their wedding, this was almost an amalgamation of such a special occasion and she choked back her emotion as they were laden with jewels and robes.

The crowd went wild in applause with the coronation and the two of them looked quite stoic on their platform. Everybody stood and waited as Stephanos stepped forward to make his announcement and from the center of the arena, a platform had been erected. Theo hadn’t really given it a second thought when they’d arrived; the T shaped planks that had been set up and left in the center of the ring. But as Stephanos spoke, it became apparent as to what they would be used for. Creed captives where walked out to the center and the arena; their faces hidden and the crowds grew silent.

Theo’s face paled. She was aware there would be punishments for those who were caught.. She just hadn’t considered it overly much; having chosen to block the night of the attacks out of her mind. The horrors of what’d happened in the guest house of the Leventi estate still weighed heavily in her dreams and she did her best to block it from her mind. That was relatively easy when they’d returned to Serenn. ...But coming back to Vasilaedon and the guest house?

She could see the skirmish between Emilios and Achilleas in her mind; feel the cold breath of the creed member on the back of her neck and his hand on her mouth. The cut from the blade against her throat had only just healed weeks later. Of all the people who should have wanted justice for their crimes, Theo should have been at the top of the list. But seeing their dark forms brought forth only sent icy chills down her spine again.

Stephanos ordered the executioner to place the noose around their necks and Theo felt sick. But for the sake of her sisters, she held her chin high. Imma gripped her hand and buried her face into her shoulder; unaware of the trembling in Theo’s fingertips. Dark eyes focused on the shapes as the ropes were tied off.. And the arena was eerily quiet. ...Or maybe it wasn’t and she’d just lost the ability to hear; she couldn’t be certain. She had tunnel vision; there was nothing here save them and her and the memories of that night. Of the bodies strewn on the floor; the wine puddling at her feet; soaking into her gown mixed with blood. There was so much blood.

Finally, the platform fell from beneath their feet and the men were dropped into their noose. It was a cowardly ending. Only cowards hung themselves and it was a grave insult to the men. ….In other words, it was the perfect way for them to die; behind their cloaks so no one could see them and without being given the honor of fighting back. Theo watched them hang; watched their bodies convulse for what seemed like forever before finally her knees gave out from under her and she sat own heavily just as everyone cheered their apparent demise; cheered for their new king and queen. And cheered for the fresh start for their kingdom.

The young prince - now king - of Taengea performed the ceremony well. Of that, Fotios was assured. The man looked a little green around the gills to those sitting close enough but to his people he would seem strong.

His words were ornate. His actions dominant. The executions were big and excessive - causing the entire populace to witness his stance against those who had caused terror in his domain. The jewels and robes he and his wife were equipped in where so bright they shone to the very back of the amphitheatre where even the lowers of the low would be able to witness their glory.

Irakles had chosen all of this very well. The new king was grand. Excessive. And oh, so very shiny...

Now the game was handed over to himself and his own plans. Irakles had elevated the new king to his grand role of pomp and circumstance. It had been charged to Fotios to ensure that it was a long tumble down from that perch.

And yet, the man was more concerned with the silkiness of his wife's skin and the way she delicately bit her lip when the executions were finalised. Transferring his hand from her back to the side of her face where he could brush along her cheekbone and then offer the smallest tug to her earlobe, encouraging her to lay her head on his shoulder. He knew that his wife, like himself, had no qualms regarding death. She was no shrinking violet or woman of delicate constitution. But it would only aid in both their images if he was seen to be comforting a lady who was too sensitive to the events of the coronation so far.

To all those around him, Fotios did not give off the air of someone intent on completing nefarious plans. But then, why would he? The few pieces of the chess game that Irakles had granted him had been in place for days, if not weeks. He was a planner and Fotios already had his plan in place for the court session they would all be expected to attend after Stephanos had finished his preening...

Irakles looked relaxed in his seated posture. Knees apart with his elbows on the armrests of the high backed gilded chair he sat on, his right hand ws curled in a knuckle, positioned under his chin so Irakles could rest upon it whilst watching the proceedings. Next to him, the Queen Mother sat tense and in an upright posture. One glance from Irakles was enough for the prince to tell tat Elise was obviously still nervous in light of what had happened in the morning, from the way she fidgeted in her seat, her knuckles white with tension.

Reaching over, Irakles grasped her fidgeting fingers in his own scarred, war-blemished ones, giving it a tight squeeze followed by a reassuring smile when she nervously looked at her brother in law.

By the time both royals had turned back, Irakles replacing his arms back on the armrests of the chair, the entrance procession had begun. True enough, he had set up his nephew to enter with as much pomp and extravagance as he could manage, regal as one could muster when the coronation was set up to be held in the arcus. Extra costs had been incurred to hire guards for the transferring of the crown jewels, the gilded throne upon which the new king and his wife would sit on, as well as the extra trappings that would make the whole affair as grand as possible.

He had spared no expense.

Watching the happenings with a close eye as the priest recited his blessings, performed the ritual and then bestowed upon Olympia and Stephanos the crown jewels that now rightly belonged to them, before handing the new King his new sceptre, Irakles smiled. To anyone else looking, he would merely look like a proud uncle.

Let them think what they wanted.

As Stephanos's speech led to an end, Irakles turned to meet Ujarak's eye, and gave his assistant and scribe an imperceptive nod, a simple signal that his smart assistant jumped on to proceed to the next event on the schedule. Under his strict orders, a makeshift dais had been cosntructed out of wood, where six hooded and masked Creed members hung, guarded closely by the Taengean guard. Standing side by side balanced precariously on stools, each Creed member had a loose noose around his or her neck. One could feel a subtle chill pass by the arcus as te creak of the wheels brought them in, obvious that the remnants of what had happened before still lingered in everyone's memories.

Careful to not tip the precariously balanced convincts as the dais was wheeled in, it only took one signal from the newly coronated King, for the guards to kick out the stools that were the only thing saving the Creed from certain death.

They struggled, silently but clearly as the noose tightened around their air passage. Silence fell around the arcus. If one looked closed enough, one could almost feel the tightening of the thick rope around one's throat, the desperate need for their lungs to draw in one, just one breathe, yet failing to do so. Their feet swung, cloaked hands clawing at their throats in a basal, human need.

And then... still.

The crowd erupted again, once the movement had halted. It was obvious that the people of Taengea, try as they may, had still been moving under a grim fog that had stayed as long as the dead bodies of the Creed swayed eerily atop the Taengean markets. The hanging had signified the end of an era, as the Taengean's would place their trust on the new monarchy. Irakles would be damned if he allowed them to remain content with the half-assed attempts Stephanos had at trying to be King. Pretty words, regal clothing and the fact that he was the second son to his brother could only carry him so far. It was ingenuity, wit and mental strength that would carry one the furthest in such a position of power. Things that his weak nephew sadly did not posess. But worry naught. He had it all well in hand.

The platform was quickly wheeled away, as Irakles had instructed. He had also given strict instructions on the manner of which the bodies were to be disposed of - burnt to a crisp with fire, so they could not be traced back to the living. So flesh would not betray him and bones would never tell the truth. Because all it took was one mistake, and Irakles was unwilling to make a single mistake at this stage of is plans.

His eyes followed Ujarak's trajectory from where he now instructed the dais of dead, swaying Creed tobe brought away, only to be met by his nephew's gaze. Separated by distance they may be, Irakles could see the message his nephew had behind the smile. In return, the old general merely raised a brow, and dipped a head in return, his smile hidden behind his hands. He could see it, see exactly what he was driving Stephanos to do. The way his nephew now obsessively worked at the tasklist a King would go through every day, yet refused his help at every juncture. It was almost as if he was just outright and blatantly being a brat to his uncle. And it did not help his case that he now looked as if he was obsessed with proving an innocent man guilty, especially when he observed the deaths of the Creed in such an intense manner.

It was a horrible image to present to the senate and advisors who had long seen Irakles being a worthy, key person in helping to bring Taengea to the glory the kingdom sees today, wasn't it? And it was exactly what the elder prince had been counting on... Stephanos played right into his palms.

When he had been younger, his father had brought him to see the city of Vasiliadon, where a procession had been going through in celebration of a noble born lady's wedding. It was that day that Irakles had decided that the glory that was Vasiliadon, the beauty that was Taengea... he would ensure that none of that would ever be chipped away, and that he would see to it his home kingdom would be given the honor it deserves.

To have it chipped away, given away left and right like pieces of a puzzle... calling him frustrated would be an understatement. The plans he had made? He would see them through, by hook or by crook, even if he had to end up in Tartarus, Irakles would see his wishes come true. And Stephanos was the last piece standing in his way. Fotios had warned him before - to rid them of Stephanos so quick would be to draw attention to himself, which would be counterproductive to their plans. To do this, he had to play the long game. Patience. He'll be the savior of his broken kingdom, of his beaten comrades, of the ones who had shared his dreams of a greater Taengea, and was simply damned by everyone else.

Irakles will get there. Or he'll die trying.

Almost as if dismissing Stephanos, Irakles' cocked his head to the side as if mocking his nephew in a way only the new King could tell, before his gaze slid away to inspect the rest of the arcus again. Observing and assessing the remaining of the crowd, Irakles stood up as he watched the King and Queen rise, as if about to make their exit, and immediately the Prince stepped forward, his booming voice enough to draw attention to him, a position obvious soon enough, that Irakles had been groomed since birth to do.

"Court will be in session back at the palace for all royal and noble houses. Please make your way there once you are ready." Standing at the edges of the royal dais where all eyes zeroed in on Irakles, he appeared the perfect image of a groomed and trained royal, a leader in every way and shape, from his posture to his charming smile, down to the very way in which he motioned for Ujarak to step forward, and along with his scribe, dozens of other servants holding boxes upon boxes of small gifts wrapped up in waxed parchment and twine. Everything from small amounts of obols, food, and some of the flowers and decorations which had previously been used to add to the stage was now wrapped up in nice momento's, ready for the general public as a token of the King's appreciation.

"As for now, King Stephanos will be showing his appreciation, with gifts for everyone in Vasiliadon." The loud cheer went up around the arena, as the guards began shuffling and segregating the royals and nobles from the commonfolk, just as Irakles had instructed. The stairs that led up to the royal and noble boxes were kept clear. Instead, the commonfolk were led down a large, common stairwell everyone would use, before they were lined up in an orderly fashion where the King and Queen were, effectively blocking anyone's exit from the royal dais. It was clear from the eager faces of the commonfolk that they were excited. This would be one of the rare few times that they were allowed to be even at such a distance to royalty, and it was much of a treat for them.

Ujarak approached Stephanos with the biggest box of gifts, the rest of which the servants took it upon themselves to begin distrubuting on behalf of the King. There, the scribe bowed respectfully to Stephanos, speaking in his low tone. "Prince Irakles has instructed me that these are for you to distribute, Your Highness. Only upon the completion of this, would you and Queen Olympia proceed to return to the palace." Ujarak held the box up at Stephanos, a sight which Irakles observed with a wry, lopsided smile from his position. The general turned to Elise, smiling at his two nieces as he strode to the Queen Mother and grasped her hands again.

"Do go ahead and return to the palace, my dear. You must be tuckered out. Gianna, Xene, escort your mother back." he addressed the princesses, before turning back to the balcony again, watching the proceedings. Only when Stephanos was done, did Irakles speak once more, tone of finality in his voice.

"King Stephanos thanks everyone for their support and unwavering devotion to the Kingdom of Taengea. Rest assured, we will do our best to ensure that the safety and glory of our beautiful Kingdom is not far away, and neither will the Creed nor anyone else harm our home." his gaze flickered to Stephanos, a grin that hid his smirk as the crowd cheered for Irakles' supportive, gratifying words in the light of such a gruesome hanging of the Creed. "We will stop at nothing to ensure our home, our legacy is secured, so people of Taengea... we ask for nothing more then your support!"

With that last, loud cheer, Irakles bowed respectfully, waving in a practised manner that one could only have mastered after many years of doing the same thing over and over again. Amidst the cheers of the crowd, Irakles turned on his heel as his nephew and his wife started to leave the stadium, and headed to the stairs of the royal box upon ensuring Queen Mother Elise had safely departed with her daughters. He would head for the court session, but for now he had people to see. A few eyes had met his while he closed off the ceremony from where he stood at the balcony - he intended to see the people with whom had summoned him with a nod and a look in their eye. The coronation was merely the first of many wheels he planned to put in motion. As his cohort and friend had taught him, Irakles now played the long game. Despite it taking longer, he knew it was, in the long run, safer and more effective. And to play the long game meant the prince had to lay the seeds.

He had no problem doing that.