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Achilleas had heard the laugh of his cousin, rich with disbelief, but he might have wished the King had picked another point to defend himself on. In spite of the more considerable upset they were in the centre of, it still rankled to have attention drawn to his father’s choices in bed partner. More public scorn to be heaped upon that which his mother already bore, and that he and Emilios were forced to try and ignore, even as the cause of it was paraded so openly. He glanced at his father, feeling that old anger want to make itself known.
He did not let it though, too aware of eyes that might be upon him, and of his brother still seething at his side. He needed to keep his head here. And so he kept his breaths measured, his expression deceptively blank. The slight twitch of a finger where his hands lay curled upon his lap was all the hint he gave of his unease.
Stephanos, in his temper, was at risk of playing into his father’s hands, but the King was soon seated again, and it was the Lord Gavriil who pressed for more information pertaining to Irakles’words. Achilleas knew his father though, he would never make such claims without having adequately prepared them, without having done some groundwork. He waited with the rest of the senate to watch the spider spin the web.
One by one, corroborators were trotted out to give weight to his father’s claims, and Achilleas could only guess at what had changed hands to ensure such accounts. Each further witness seemed only to add to the rising sense of disquiet in the Dikasitrio and yet the man watched his father, who seemed unflappable, cool and precise as always.
There could be no truth in this He of all people knew how well practiced that aloofness was, he did not doubt that it would convince those who wavered, but he could not believe it of his cousin. Stephanos had never showed an inkling of wanting the crown. To suggest that he would kill for it? His own family? Achilleas ground his teeth together so hard he feared they might crack. He wished then that he had been more direct with his father when that summons had come, that he had pushed him to know why he was so adamant that he be present for the meeting, why he was pressing him for his loyalty.
He knew now.
And when the Lord Leventi spoke, Achilleas chanced he could see it for the manoeuvring that it was. He looked around at the gathered barons, muttering amongst themselves, and to the King, and he thought that it had worked. That even before the Chief Advisor stepped forward and called for a vote to decide on the King and Queen’s confinement to the palati, the opinions of those gathered had been confirmed or suitable swayed.
But the Chief Advisor did call for a vote, and Achilleas felt rather than saw his father’s gaze fall upon him. There were several hands raised in favour already, and he knew what would be expected of him, what he had been primed for. But the older of Irakles’ sons was painfully aware of his brother beside him, and of his cousin who stood to lose in all of this. His cousin , his King who he had sworn fealty to.
He had said he would do what was best for Taengea. But this? He did not know it could be considered so. And yet he knew he would be risking his father's wrath if he did not comply with the less that subtle instruction he had been given not days before, if he did not vote in favour for this motion.
"He goes too far" he muttered, glancing at his brother.
Another moment passed by where he did not raise his hand and it felt like an age. And then another and another, and Achilleas did not dare look in his father’s direction. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest, and looked resolutely ahead. There were enough palms raised that had likely been liberally greased, he could keep his clean.
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Achilleas had heard the laugh of his cousin, rich with disbelief, but he might have wished the King had picked another point to defend himself on. In spite of the more considerable upset they were in the centre of, it still rankled to have attention drawn to his father’s choices in bed partner. More public scorn to be heaped upon that which his mother already bore, and that he and Emilios were forced to try and ignore, even as the cause of it was paraded so openly. He glanced at his father, feeling that old anger want to make itself known.
He did not let it though, too aware of eyes that might be upon him, and of his brother still seething at his side. He needed to keep his head here. And so he kept his breaths measured, his expression deceptively blank. The slight twitch of a finger where his hands lay curled upon his lap was all the hint he gave of his unease.
Stephanos, in his temper, was at risk of playing into his father’s hands, but the King was soon seated again, and it was the Lord Gavriil who pressed for more information pertaining to Irakles’words. Achilleas knew his father though, he would never make such claims without having adequately prepared them, without having done some groundwork. He waited with the rest of the senate to watch the spider spin the web.
One by one, corroborators were trotted out to give weight to his father’s claims, and Achilleas could only guess at what had changed hands to ensure such accounts. Each further witness seemed only to add to the rising sense of disquiet in the Dikasitrio and yet the man watched his father, who seemed unflappable, cool and precise as always.
There could be no truth in this He of all people knew how well practiced that aloofness was, he did not doubt that it would convince those who wavered, but he could not believe it of his cousin. Stephanos had never showed an inkling of wanting the crown. To suggest that he would kill for it? His own family? Achilleas ground his teeth together so hard he feared they might crack. He wished then that he had been more direct with his father when that summons had come, that he had pushed him to know why he was so adamant that he be present for the meeting, why he was pressing him for his loyalty.
He knew now.
And when the Lord Leventi spoke, Achilleas chanced he could see it for the manoeuvring that it was. He looked around at the gathered barons, muttering amongst themselves, and to the King, and he thought that it had worked. That even before the Chief Advisor stepped forward and called for a vote to decide on the King and Queen’s confinement to the palati, the opinions of those gathered had been confirmed or suitable swayed.
But the Chief Advisor did call for a vote, and Achilleas felt rather than saw his father’s gaze fall upon him. There were several hands raised in favour already, and he knew what would be expected of him, what he had been primed for. But the older of Irakles’ sons was painfully aware of his brother beside him, and of his cousin who stood to lose in all of this. His cousin , his King who he had sworn fealty to.
He had said he would do what was best for Taengea. But this? He did not know it could be considered so. And yet he knew he would be risking his father's wrath if he did not comply with the less that subtle instruction he had been given not days before, if he did not vote in favour for this motion.
"He goes too far" he muttered, glancing at his brother.
Another moment passed by where he did not raise his hand and it felt like an age. And then another and another, and Achilleas did not dare look in his father’s direction. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest, and looked resolutely ahead. There were enough palms raised that had likely been liberally greased, he could keep his clean.
Achilleas had heard the laugh of his cousin, rich with disbelief, but he might have wished the King had picked another point to defend himself on. In spite of the more considerable upset they were in the centre of, it still rankled to have attention drawn to his father’s choices in bed partner. More public scorn to be heaped upon that which his mother already bore, and that he and Emilios were forced to try and ignore, even as the cause of it was paraded so openly. He glanced at his father, feeling that old anger want to make itself known.
He did not let it though, too aware of eyes that might be upon him, and of his brother still seething at his side. He needed to keep his head here. And so he kept his breaths measured, his expression deceptively blank. The slight twitch of a finger where his hands lay curled upon his lap was all the hint he gave of his unease.
Stephanos, in his temper, was at risk of playing into his father’s hands, but the King was soon seated again, and it was the Lord Gavriil who pressed for more information pertaining to Irakles’words. Achilleas knew his father though, he would never make such claims without having adequately prepared them, without having done some groundwork. He waited with the rest of the senate to watch the spider spin the web.
One by one, corroborators were trotted out to give weight to his father’s claims, and Achilleas could only guess at what had changed hands to ensure such accounts. Each further witness seemed only to add to the rising sense of disquiet in the Dikasitrio and yet the man watched his father, who seemed unflappable, cool and precise as always.
There could be no truth in this He of all people knew how well practiced that aloofness was, he did not doubt that it would convince those who wavered, but he could not believe it of his cousin. Stephanos had never showed an inkling of wanting the crown. To suggest that he would kill for it? His own family? Achilleas ground his teeth together so hard he feared they might crack. He wished then that he had been more direct with his father when that summons had come, that he had pushed him to know why he was so adamant that he be present for the meeting, why he was pressing him for his loyalty.
He knew now.
And when the Lord Leventi spoke, Achilleas chanced he could see it for the manoeuvring that it was. He looked around at the gathered barons, muttering amongst themselves, and to the King, and he thought that it had worked. That even before the Chief Advisor stepped forward and called for a vote to decide on the King and Queen’s confinement to the palati, the opinions of those gathered had been confirmed or suitable swayed.
But the Chief Advisor did call for a vote, and Achilleas felt rather than saw his father’s gaze fall upon him. There were several hands raised in favour already, and he knew what would be expected of him, what he had been primed for. But the older of Irakles’ sons was painfully aware of his brother beside him, and of his cousin who stood to lose in all of this. His cousin , his King who he had sworn fealty to.
He had said he would do what was best for Taengea. But this? He did not know it could be considered so. And yet he knew he would be risking his father's wrath if he did not comply with the less that subtle instruction he had been given not days before, if he did not vote in favour for this motion.
"He goes too far" he muttered, glancing at his brother.
Another moment passed by where he did not raise his hand and it felt like an age. And then another and another, and Achilleas did not dare look in his father’s direction. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest, and looked resolutely ahead. There were enough palms raised that had likely been liberally greased, he could keep his clean.
He laughed. When Irakles presented the first two witnesses, he just sat there and laughed. At first he tried to keep it to himself, placing his fist against his mouth, his eyes wide and disbelieving that this was truly the proof that Irakles was relying on. Of course he’d been late to the chariot races. He’d been horribly late and almost missed the whole thing. He and Emilios had spent the entire night carousing with two women and drinking themselves nearly sick. The raging hangover he’d had that morning nearly threatened him now with just the memory. How on earth was he supposed to have been up earlier in the day, dressed in a Creed robe? His mother had had to come into his room twice to wake him to even show up to the races.
There were many, many people, including the crown prince of Colchis, who...was absent, at the moment. The other witness of his own was Emilios but it wasn’t like he could shout for the man to come up here and go against his father in the middle of the Senate session. Stephanos gave a look at his cousin, then, his gaze first on Emilios, who knew the absolute truth of it, and then to Achilleas, in a sort of ‘Did I not warn you?’ expression.
He was not laughing by the time the next ‘witnesses’ were produced. His mouth dropped open in actual shock as the servant girl lied in front of the entire Senate. “Chief Advisor-” he started to stand, about to put an end to the charade but the Chief Advisor calmly shook his head and bade the king to let this continue. Stephanos felt a chill then and realized that he would get no help from the Chief Advisor, who was supposed to be impartial. It dawned on him, as he looked out at the men assembled, that there was no impartiality here. Irakles had led him into a killing field and he’d blindly followed, assuming himself to be safe with so many eyes. However, Irakles’s plan was all too clear, far too late.
When he looked back, the girl had just handed over a crusted, brown chiton that had been drenched with blood. He wanted to point and to exclaim that he would not be idiot enough to leave that anywhere, much less at the point of his own brother’s murder. But as he began to do exactly that, the Chief Advisor, again, bid him to let his uncle have the floor.
“No,” Stephanos shook his head, his blue eyes wide with realization that this was going south quickly. “I will defend myself.”
“At the proper time, my king,” the Chief Advisor again bade him to sit down but he did not this time. He stayed standing, watching in abject disbelief as a third ‘witness’ took the stand to produce more bloodied clothes. His clothes. His sandals. His fibulae that anyone who’d ever seen him would know belonged to him exclusively. How had they gotten his things? But that question wasn’t really that hard to answer. How many nights had he had to drink himself to sleep just to be able to shut off the paranoia? The justified paranoia, as it was turning out.
His hands closed into fists as Irakles drew breath and spoke to the assembled Senate in the charismatic, wounded way he had convinced the dowager queen to do everything he’d wanted her to do. He could barely hear anything anyone said. Blood surged through his veins. His heart thundered so horrendously in his ears that his chest physically hurt. It wasn’t until the Chief Advisor suggested house arrest that Stephanos realized he’d lost everything, completely, within seconds. If he went under house arrest, he would not make it to trial. Of that he was absolutely certain.
Because at a real trial, he could produce so many more people to vouch for his innocence than Irakles could pay to damn him for his guilt. His feet were moving, carrying him across the platform, at his uncle. Irakles was the only thing he could see. Shoving past the Chief Advisor, he drew back his fist. For a second, he had the clear thought that if he did this, his guilt was proved. To do this, he would reveal himself to be unhinged, and untrustworthy……...and he just didn’t care. Not anymore. There was nothing left to save.
He drove his fist as hard as he could right into Irakles’s jaw, simultaneously jerking his other hand forward to grab hold of the other man’s clothes. His intent was to punch Irakles to death, right there in front of everyone, the way he’d done to the Creed leader under the Order House. His tunnel vision did not serve him this time, however. Guards were on him in seconds, prying him off his uncle.
“I’ll kill you, old man!” he shouted, attempting to jerk free of the guards that held him fast. “I’ll kill you! By Ares I will kill you!” He swore the oath in front of all members of the Senate and the gods themselves. His rage was second to none and the guards were barely able to contain him.
People were on their feet. Confusion and chaos reigned and Stephanos fought every inch of the way as the guards drug him off the platform and out of the Dikastirio. By the time they were out among the people, he was shielded from everyone by an entire group of guards, two in front, two in back, and two holding him on either side. They were not about to let him go and they were not going to let him rage enough to hurt himself or anyone else.
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He laughed. When Irakles presented the first two witnesses, he just sat there and laughed. At first he tried to keep it to himself, placing his fist against his mouth, his eyes wide and disbelieving that this was truly the proof that Irakles was relying on. Of course he’d been late to the chariot races. He’d been horribly late and almost missed the whole thing. He and Emilios had spent the entire night carousing with two women and drinking themselves nearly sick. The raging hangover he’d had that morning nearly threatened him now with just the memory. How on earth was he supposed to have been up earlier in the day, dressed in a Creed robe? His mother had had to come into his room twice to wake him to even show up to the races.
There were many, many people, including the crown prince of Colchis, who...was absent, at the moment. The other witness of his own was Emilios but it wasn’t like he could shout for the man to come up here and go against his father in the middle of the Senate session. Stephanos gave a look at his cousin, then, his gaze first on Emilios, who knew the absolute truth of it, and then to Achilleas, in a sort of ‘Did I not warn you?’ expression.
He was not laughing by the time the next ‘witnesses’ were produced. His mouth dropped open in actual shock as the servant girl lied in front of the entire Senate. “Chief Advisor-” he started to stand, about to put an end to the charade but the Chief Advisor calmly shook his head and bade the king to let this continue. Stephanos felt a chill then and realized that he would get no help from the Chief Advisor, who was supposed to be impartial. It dawned on him, as he looked out at the men assembled, that there was no impartiality here. Irakles had led him into a killing field and he’d blindly followed, assuming himself to be safe with so many eyes. However, Irakles’s plan was all too clear, far too late.
When he looked back, the girl had just handed over a crusted, brown chiton that had been drenched with blood. He wanted to point and to exclaim that he would not be idiot enough to leave that anywhere, much less at the point of his own brother’s murder. But as he began to do exactly that, the Chief Advisor, again, bid him to let his uncle have the floor.
“No,” Stephanos shook his head, his blue eyes wide with realization that this was going south quickly. “I will defend myself.”
“At the proper time, my king,” the Chief Advisor again bade him to sit down but he did not this time. He stayed standing, watching in abject disbelief as a third ‘witness’ took the stand to produce more bloodied clothes. His clothes. His sandals. His fibulae that anyone who’d ever seen him would know belonged to him exclusively. How had they gotten his things? But that question wasn’t really that hard to answer. How many nights had he had to drink himself to sleep just to be able to shut off the paranoia? The justified paranoia, as it was turning out.
His hands closed into fists as Irakles drew breath and spoke to the assembled Senate in the charismatic, wounded way he had convinced the dowager queen to do everything he’d wanted her to do. He could barely hear anything anyone said. Blood surged through his veins. His heart thundered so horrendously in his ears that his chest physically hurt. It wasn’t until the Chief Advisor suggested house arrest that Stephanos realized he’d lost everything, completely, within seconds. If he went under house arrest, he would not make it to trial. Of that he was absolutely certain.
Because at a real trial, he could produce so many more people to vouch for his innocence than Irakles could pay to damn him for his guilt. His feet were moving, carrying him across the platform, at his uncle. Irakles was the only thing he could see. Shoving past the Chief Advisor, he drew back his fist. For a second, he had the clear thought that if he did this, his guilt was proved. To do this, he would reveal himself to be unhinged, and untrustworthy……...and he just didn’t care. Not anymore. There was nothing left to save.
He drove his fist as hard as he could right into Irakles’s jaw, simultaneously jerking his other hand forward to grab hold of the other man’s clothes. His intent was to punch Irakles to death, right there in front of everyone, the way he’d done to the Creed leader under the Order House. His tunnel vision did not serve him this time, however. Guards were on him in seconds, prying him off his uncle.
“I’ll kill you, old man!” he shouted, attempting to jerk free of the guards that held him fast. “I’ll kill you! By Ares I will kill you!” He swore the oath in front of all members of the Senate and the gods themselves. His rage was second to none and the guards were barely able to contain him.
People were on their feet. Confusion and chaos reigned and Stephanos fought every inch of the way as the guards drug him off the platform and out of the Dikastirio. By the time they were out among the people, he was shielded from everyone by an entire group of guards, two in front, two in back, and two holding him on either side. They were not about to let him go and they were not going to let him rage enough to hurt himself or anyone else.
He laughed. When Irakles presented the first two witnesses, he just sat there and laughed. At first he tried to keep it to himself, placing his fist against his mouth, his eyes wide and disbelieving that this was truly the proof that Irakles was relying on. Of course he’d been late to the chariot races. He’d been horribly late and almost missed the whole thing. He and Emilios had spent the entire night carousing with two women and drinking themselves nearly sick. The raging hangover he’d had that morning nearly threatened him now with just the memory. How on earth was he supposed to have been up earlier in the day, dressed in a Creed robe? His mother had had to come into his room twice to wake him to even show up to the races.
There were many, many people, including the crown prince of Colchis, who...was absent, at the moment. The other witness of his own was Emilios but it wasn’t like he could shout for the man to come up here and go against his father in the middle of the Senate session. Stephanos gave a look at his cousin, then, his gaze first on Emilios, who knew the absolute truth of it, and then to Achilleas, in a sort of ‘Did I not warn you?’ expression.
He was not laughing by the time the next ‘witnesses’ were produced. His mouth dropped open in actual shock as the servant girl lied in front of the entire Senate. “Chief Advisor-” he started to stand, about to put an end to the charade but the Chief Advisor calmly shook his head and bade the king to let this continue. Stephanos felt a chill then and realized that he would get no help from the Chief Advisor, who was supposed to be impartial. It dawned on him, as he looked out at the men assembled, that there was no impartiality here. Irakles had led him into a killing field and he’d blindly followed, assuming himself to be safe with so many eyes. However, Irakles’s plan was all too clear, far too late.
When he looked back, the girl had just handed over a crusted, brown chiton that had been drenched with blood. He wanted to point and to exclaim that he would not be idiot enough to leave that anywhere, much less at the point of his own brother’s murder. But as he began to do exactly that, the Chief Advisor, again, bid him to let his uncle have the floor.
“No,” Stephanos shook his head, his blue eyes wide with realization that this was going south quickly. “I will defend myself.”
“At the proper time, my king,” the Chief Advisor again bade him to sit down but he did not this time. He stayed standing, watching in abject disbelief as a third ‘witness’ took the stand to produce more bloodied clothes. His clothes. His sandals. His fibulae that anyone who’d ever seen him would know belonged to him exclusively. How had they gotten his things? But that question wasn’t really that hard to answer. How many nights had he had to drink himself to sleep just to be able to shut off the paranoia? The justified paranoia, as it was turning out.
His hands closed into fists as Irakles drew breath and spoke to the assembled Senate in the charismatic, wounded way he had convinced the dowager queen to do everything he’d wanted her to do. He could barely hear anything anyone said. Blood surged through his veins. His heart thundered so horrendously in his ears that his chest physically hurt. It wasn’t until the Chief Advisor suggested house arrest that Stephanos realized he’d lost everything, completely, within seconds. If he went under house arrest, he would not make it to trial. Of that he was absolutely certain.
Because at a real trial, he could produce so many more people to vouch for his innocence than Irakles could pay to damn him for his guilt. His feet were moving, carrying him across the platform, at his uncle. Irakles was the only thing he could see. Shoving past the Chief Advisor, he drew back his fist. For a second, he had the clear thought that if he did this, his guilt was proved. To do this, he would reveal himself to be unhinged, and untrustworthy……...and he just didn’t care. Not anymore. There was nothing left to save.
He drove his fist as hard as he could right into Irakles’s jaw, simultaneously jerking his other hand forward to grab hold of the other man’s clothes. His intent was to punch Irakles to death, right there in front of everyone, the way he’d done to the Creed leader under the Order House. His tunnel vision did not serve him this time, however. Guards were on him in seconds, prying him off his uncle.
“I’ll kill you, old man!” he shouted, attempting to jerk free of the guards that held him fast. “I’ll kill you! By Ares I will kill you!” He swore the oath in front of all members of the Senate and the gods themselves. His rage was second to none and the guards were barely able to contain him.
People were on their feet. Confusion and chaos reigned and Stephanos fought every inch of the way as the guards drug him off the platform and out of the Dikastirio. By the time they were out among the people, he was shielded from everyone by an entire group of guards, two in front, two in back, and two holding him on either side. They were not about to let him go and they were not going to let him rage enough to hurt himself or anyone else.
Nana was quite proud of herself at this particular moment. Although Uncle Fotios had tried to keep her away from the senate meeting with the promise of a shopping spree, she kept her resolve and came anyway. She could shop any day she chose, but this meeting was important. She could tell by the flood of nobles to the capitol.
But that didn't have a huge impact on just why she wanted to come. It more had to do with the strong urge she felt to protect Pia from the slings and arrows of court gossip. And, with the strange feeling she'd felt after replaying her early-morning meeting with Stephanos over and over in her mind after the fact. Though she was quite irritated at the time due to Stephanos's general existence, something that he said stuck with her.
"It's a bit tedious living in the same palati as Prince Irakles...Since he's trying to kill me and your sister."
While Nana could have cared less about the welfare of her brother-in-law, the young woman was strongly protective of her sister, especially during her pregnancy. As such, she couldn't get her king's words out of her head. What if Irakles was really after Pia? Nana couldn't live with herself if she didn't try to protect one of those she held closest. She would protect her sister, protect her queen, and protect her country. And all by going to a senate meeting! Who'd have thought?
As it was an important occasion, Nana dressed the part. Though she usually put a great deal of time into her appearance, she did even more so on this particular occasion. The Leventi wore a peplos made of a deep purple silk, held up with two beaded fibulae shaped like horses, and cinched with a wide belt of the same color. On her chest rested a golden locket, inscribed with her family’s crest, as well as a considerably sized pendant of brilliant amethyst, which sparkled at her collarbone. A single bangle rested on one wrist, while her hands wore a number of golden rings. While the majority of her golden hair was left to flow down her back, the top portion of her hair was intricately twisted away from her face and pinned into place with golden pins in the back. Just another of her wonderful looks.
When Nana approached the arcus, she made a point to avoid her aunt, who seemed quite busy spending her time with Prince Irakles's whore, Meena. Though she didn't know the woman personally, she couldn't very well respect her. Carrying on an affair with a married man, no matter how powerful, did not sit well with Nana. Nobody could escape Nana's judgement: not the king, and not Prince Irakles.
Upon the realization that she was quite late, and she could not spot any of her friends in the crowd, Nana decided to search for any familiar face, and found one in Imeeya of Drakos, a Colchian. Though she had not directly spoken with the girl, she'd seen her in court, and Nana decided she'd rather talk to a practical stranger than stand alone in the crowd of women outside of the arena. So, Nana approached the girl, almost immediately resting her hand on the Colchian's arm to alert her of her presence.
"Imeeya of Drakos, correct? I am Nana of Leventi. I hope you don't mind if I stand with you." Surely she wouldn't, seeing as Nana was quite friendly. But, it seemed that Nana had bad luck, as soon after she joined the Drakos, things took a turn for the worse in the senate.
Nana was already aware from her conversation with Stephanos that Prince Irakles was a calculating man, leading Nana to be dubious to believe what he alleged. Of course, Nana knew that Stephanos was an adulterer, but a murderer? Surely not. And, of course, she voiced this opinion openly. What good would she do if she didn't? To defend Pia, Nana would have to defend Stephanos as well, and though he irritated her to no extent, she would begrudgingly do so. But only for her sister's sake.
After Irakles got through his witnesses, Nana's grip on Imeeya tightened as she cleared her throat, preparing to speak. "Do you see how hesitant his so-called witnesses looked? Why would anyone be hesitant to tell the truth?" Nana could only hope that her words would influence those around her to ask those questions for themselves.
She stayed quiet for very little time after that, surprise gripping her as her uncle rose to speak. Her uncle was a man of few words, as far as Nana knew. But, of course, she knew little in the first place. Uncle Fotios was quite the enigma to Nana. But, of course, so was Aunt Eirini. She never knew what to expect out of the two, and it seemed that Uncle Fotios lived up to as much at this particular moment in time. It took her a moment to get over the fact that he had actually spoke, and to realize just what he was saying. "...House arrest? What?" The one time Uncle Fotios spoke, and he went way over the line. Perhaps this was why he so often held his tongue.
Stephanos's words at the beach ran through her head yet again...Irakles was out to get Stephanos. Why else would he have been afraid of being in the same house as his uncle? And why, so soon after, would Irakles confine him to that space?
Nana's frantic thoughts just about slipped out her mouth. "King Stephanos told me only a few weeks ago that he feared for the life of himself and my sister because Prince Irakles moved into the palati..." Stephanos was innocent. This was just a ploy to kill him...and Pia.
Nana's attention snapped back to the men as she saw Stephanos's fist connect with his uncle's jaw, at which point Nana screamed in shock, bringing both hands up to cover her mouth. No, no, no! Stephanos, you're making yourself look guilty!, Nana thought. And suddenly, her brother-in-law was being detained, and dragged out of the Dikastírio by a unit of guards...This was bad.
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Nana was quite proud of herself at this particular moment. Although Uncle Fotios had tried to keep her away from the senate meeting with the promise of a shopping spree, she kept her resolve and came anyway. She could shop any day she chose, but this meeting was important. She could tell by the flood of nobles to the capitol.
But that didn't have a huge impact on just why she wanted to come. It more had to do with the strong urge she felt to protect Pia from the slings and arrows of court gossip. And, with the strange feeling she'd felt after replaying her early-morning meeting with Stephanos over and over in her mind after the fact. Though she was quite irritated at the time due to Stephanos's general existence, something that he said stuck with her.
"It's a bit tedious living in the same palati as Prince Irakles...Since he's trying to kill me and your sister."
While Nana could have cared less about the welfare of her brother-in-law, the young woman was strongly protective of her sister, especially during her pregnancy. As such, she couldn't get her king's words out of her head. What if Irakles was really after Pia? Nana couldn't live with herself if she didn't try to protect one of those she held closest. She would protect her sister, protect her queen, and protect her country. And all by going to a senate meeting! Who'd have thought?
As it was an important occasion, Nana dressed the part. Though she usually put a great deal of time into her appearance, she did even more so on this particular occasion. The Leventi wore a peplos made of a deep purple silk, held up with two beaded fibulae shaped like horses, and cinched with a wide belt of the same color. On her chest rested a golden locket, inscribed with her family’s crest, as well as a considerably sized pendant of brilliant amethyst, which sparkled at her collarbone. A single bangle rested on one wrist, while her hands wore a number of golden rings. While the majority of her golden hair was left to flow down her back, the top portion of her hair was intricately twisted away from her face and pinned into place with golden pins in the back. Just another of her wonderful looks.
When Nana approached the arcus, she made a point to avoid her aunt, who seemed quite busy spending her time with Prince Irakles's whore, Meena. Though she didn't know the woman personally, she couldn't very well respect her. Carrying on an affair with a married man, no matter how powerful, did not sit well with Nana. Nobody could escape Nana's judgement: not the king, and not Prince Irakles.
Upon the realization that she was quite late, and she could not spot any of her friends in the crowd, Nana decided to search for any familiar face, and found one in Imeeya of Drakos, a Colchian. Though she had not directly spoken with the girl, she'd seen her in court, and Nana decided she'd rather talk to a practical stranger than stand alone in the crowd of women outside of the arena. So, Nana approached the girl, almost immediately resting her hand on the Colchian's arm to alert her of her presence.
"Imeeya of Drakos, correct? I am Nana of Leventi. I hope you don't mind if I stand with you." Surely she wouldn't, seeing as Nana was quite friendly. But, it seemed that Nana had bad luck, as soon after she joined the Drakos, things took a turn for the worse in the senate.
Nana was already aware from her conversation with Stephanos that Prince Irakles was a calculating man, leading Nana to be dubious to believe what he alleged. Of course, Nana knew that Stephanos was an adulterer, but a murderer? Surely not. And, of course, she voiced this opinion openly. What good would she do if she didn't? To defend Pia, Nana would have to defend Stephanos as well, and though he irritated her to no extent, she would begrudgingly do so. But only for her sister's sake.
After Irakles got through his witnesses, Nana's grip on Imeeya tightened as she cleared her throat, preparing to speak. "Do you see how hesitant his so-called witnesses looked? Why would anyone be hesitant to tell the truth?" Nana could only hope that her words would influence those around her to ask those questions for themselves.
She stayed quiet for very little time after that, surprise gripping her as her uncle rose to speak. Her uncle was a man of few words, as far as Nana knew. But, of course, she knew little in the first place. Uncle Fotios was quite the enigma to Nana. But, of course, so was Aunt Eirini. She never knew what to expect out of the two, and it seemed that Uncle Fotios lived up to as much at this particular moment in time. It took her a moment to get over the fact that he had actually spoke, and to realize just what he was saying. "...House arrest? What?" The one time Uncle Fotios spoke, and he went way over the line. Perhaps this was why he so often held his tongue.
Stephanos's words at the beach ran through her head yet again...Irakles was out to get Stephanos. Why else would he have been afraid of being in the same house as his uncle? And why, so soon after, would Irakles confine him to that space?
Nana's frantic thoughts just about slipped out her mouth. "King Stephanos told me only a few weeks ago that he feared for the life of himself and my sister because Prince Irakles moved into the palati..." Stephanos was innocent. This was just a ploy to kill him...and Pia.
Nana's attention snapped back to the men as she saw Stephanos's fist connect with his uncle's jaw, at which point Nana screamed in shock, bringing both hands up to cover her mouth. No, no, no! Stephanos, you're making yourself look guilty!, Nana thought. And suddenly, her brother-in-law was being detained, and dragged out of the Dikastírio by a unit of guards...This was bad.
Nana was quite proud of herself at this particular moment. Although Uncle Fotios had tried to keep her away from the senate meeting with the promise of a shopping spree, she kept her resolve and came anyway. She could shop any day she chose, but this meeting was important. She could tell by the flood of nobles to the capitol.
But that didn't have a huge impact on just why she wanted to come. It more had to do with the strong urge she felt to protect Pia from the slings and arrows of court gossip. And, with the strange feeling she'd felt after replaying her early-morning meeting with Stephanos over and over in her mind after the fact. Though she was quite irritated at the time due to Stephanos's general existence, something that he said stuck with her.
"It's a bit tedious living in the same palati as Prince Irakles...Since he's trying to kill me and your sister."
While Nana could have cared less about the welfare of her brother-in-law, the young woman was strongly protective of her sister, especially during her pregnancy. As such, she couldn't get her king's words out of her head. What if Irakles was really after Pia? Nana couldn't live with herself if she didn't try to protect one of those she held closest. She would protect her sister, protect her queen, and protect her country. And all by going to a senate meeting! Who'd have thought?
As it was an important occasion, Nana dressed the part. Though she usually put a great deal of time into her appearance, she did even more so on this particular occasion. The Leventi wore a peplos made of a deep purple silk, held up with two beaded fibulae shaped like horses, and cinched with a wide belt of the same color. On her chest rested a golden locket, inscribed with her family’s crest, as well as a considerably sized pendant of brilliant amethyst, which sparkled at her collarbone. A single bangle rested on one wrist, while her hands wore a number of golden rings. While the majority of her golden hair was left to flow down her back, the top portion of her hair was intricately twisted away from her face and pinned into place with golden pins in the back. Just another of her wonderful looks.
When Nana approached the arcus, she made a point to avoid her aunt, who seemed quite busy spending her time with Prince Irakles's whore, Meena. Though she didn't know the woman personally, she couldn't very well respect her. Carrying on an affair with a married man, no matter how powerful, did not sit well with Nana. Nobody could escape Nana's judgement: not the king, and not Prince Irakles.
Upon the realization that she was quite late, and she could not spot any of her friends in the crowd, Nana decided to search for any familiar face, and found one in Imeeya of Drakos, a Colchian. Though she had not directly spoken with the girl, she'd seen her in court, and Nana decided she'd rather talk to a practical stranger than stand alone in the crowd of women outside of the arena. So, Nana approached the girl, almost immediately resting her hand on the Colchian's arm to alert her of her presence.
"Imeeya of Drakos, correct? I am Nana of Leventi. I hope you don't mind if I stand with you." Surely she wouldn't, seeing as Nana was quite friendly. But, it seemed that Nana had bad luck, as soon after she joined the Drakos, things took a turn for the worse in the senate.
Nana was already aware from her conversation with Stephanos that Prince Irakles was a calculating man, leading Nana to be dubious to believe what he alleged. Of course, Nana knew that Stephanos was an adulterer, but a murderer? Surely not. And, of course, she voiced this opinion openly. What good would she do if she didn't? To defend Pia, Nana would have to defend Stephanos as well, and though he irritated her to no extent, she would begrudgingly do so. But only for her sister's sake.
After Irakles got through his witnesses, Nana's grip on Imeeya tightened as she cleared her throat, preparing to speak. "Do you see how hesitant his so-called witnesses looked? Why would anyone be hesitant to tell the truth?" Nana could only hope that her words would influence those around her to ask those questions for themselves.
She stayed quiet for very little time after that, surprise gripping her as her uncle rose to speak. Her uncle was a man of few words, as far as Nana knew. But, of course, she knew little in the first place. Uncle Fotios was quite the enigma to Nana. But, of course, so was Aunt Eirini. She never knew what to expect out of the two, and it seemed that Uncle Fotios lived up to as much at this particular moment in time. It took her a moment to get over the fact that he had actually spoke, and to realize just what he was saying. "...House arrest? What?" The one time Uncle Fotios spoke, and he went way over the line. Perhaps this was why he so often held his tongue.
Stephanos's words at the beach ran through her head yet again...Irakles was out to get Stephanos. Why else would he have been afraid of being in the same house as his uncle? And why, so soon after, would Irakles confine him to that space?
Nana's frantic thoughts just about slipped out her mouth. "King Stephanos told me only a few weeks ago that he feared for the life of himself and my sister because Prince Irakles moved into the palati..." Stephanos was innocent. This was just a ploy to kill him...and Pia.
Nana's attention snapped back to the men as she saw Stephanos's fist connect with his uncle's jaw, at which point Nana screamed in shock, bringing both hands up to cover her mouth. No, no, no! Stephanos, you're making yourself look guilty!, Nana thought. And suddenly, her brother-in-law was being detained, and dragged out of the Dikastírio by a unit of guards...This was bad.
Watching as his friend and ally stepped down, a rare occurence for Fotios of Leventi was known to keep to himself - it was obvious that the members of the Senate were listening with rapt attention. A former Master Informer to the crown, he was known to have much information, accurate as it was deadly, and his opinion was not one that should be easily ignored. And of course, Fotios's words backed his, which gave Irakles an even greater standing point on what he had already presented to the lords in attendance.
It was not an accusation, at least not the way Fotios and Irakles had phrased it. They had meant it to be a way to get the lords to agree to a questioning, but putting Stephanos under house arrest until the questioning could became meant that his fool of a nephew could not find a way to find proper evidence or to fend for himself.
The ends justifies the means.
It did not escape Irakles's eyes that his own son seemed to not react in accordance to the court as the Chief Advisor posed the question to the floor on action to be taken after the revelations in the senate. Inwardly, his eyes narrowed, but to the public, the prince was careful to not let any emotion show. He had worked too long and hard now to let his wayward son's actions sway his hard earned results.
Instead, the prince focused as a flurry of movement showed a majority of the lords in attendance raising their hands to agree with the suggestion of the Chief Advisor on keeping the current new King and his spouse under house arrest.
That was as much as Irakles could get however, before a sudden mess of noise, limbs and footsteps, and the next thing he knew, he found himself sprawled on the ground, his lower right jaw throbbing in a manner that the experienced general knew would cause a blooming bruise in a few hours. When he blinked to gain his bearings, his ears ringing from the blow, only then did Irakles see Stephanos being hauled off him screaming profanities about taking his life, while his personal guard and royal guard alike struggled to hold the unhinged king away from the fallen prince.
"Your temper and emotions will be your downfall, nephew." He inwardly gloated. Outwardly, Irakles smiled, waving off a few people who had dashed to help him up, and instead, moved to straighten himself. Feet back on the ground, he dusted the sand and debris off his chiton which was now wrinkled and slightly stained. By then, Stephanos had been hauled out, and when Irakles turned to look at the remainder of the lords, the Chief Advisor had a worried, almost fed up look on his face, obviously quite convinced by now that Stephanos's display of anger was a point against him. If the man could show such anger towards his uncle in the public's eye, what could he have done to his own father in private had the old King Zenon stated something Stephanos had been displeased with?
Irakles could see the look the man wore, but he nodded, straightening the front of his chiton that Stephanos had gripped, before turning to address the crowd. "I would like to apologize for my nephew's behavior. I truly, deeply hope the results of our impending investigation would turn up evidence against what I had so far uncovered, but in that matter, I will humbly request from help from all the lords of the Senate to ensure that justice can be served." He bowed from his waist down to all, and then straightened up again. "We have been here long enough, so I believe that court can dismiss for today?" Flicking his gaze over to check with the Chief Advisor, the man nodded, and then addressed the senate.
"In the absence of the King, the current heir apparent, Prince Irakles, shall be acting regent in place of the King, until a conclusion can be reached."
A murmur of approval hummed throughout the Senate, and in response, the prince tilted his head in thanks to the Chief Advisor, and turned to give a small, almost uncertain smile to the remaining lords. "I hope I do not disappoint you all."
But of course, he wouldn't. He had always been meant to be King, afterall.
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Watching as his friend and ally stepped down, a rare occurence for Fotios of Leventi was known to keep to himself - it was obvious that the members of the Senate were listening with rapt attention. A former Master Informer to the crown, he was known to have much information, accurate as it was deadly, and his opinion was not one that should be easily ignored. And of course, Fotios's words backed his, which gave Irakles an even greater standing point on what he had already presented to the lords in attendance.
It was not an accusation, at least not the way Fotios and Irakles had phrased it. They had meant it to be a way to get the lords to agree to a questioning, but putting Stephanos under house arrest until the questioning could became meant that his fool of a nephew could not find a way to find proper evidence or to fend for himself.
The ends justifies the means.
It did not escape Irakles's eyes that his own son seemed to not react in accordance to the court as the Chief Advisor posed the question to the floor on action to be taken after the revelations in the senate. Inwardly, his eyes narrowed, but to the public, the prince was careful to not let any emotion show. He had worked too long and hard now to let his wayward son's actions sway his hard earned results.
Instead, the prince focused as a flurry of movement showed a majority of the lords in attendance raising their hands to agree with the suggestion of the Chief Advisor on keeping the current new King and his spouse under house arrest.
That was as much as Irakles could get however, before a sudden mess of noise, limbs and footsteps, and the next thing he knew, he found himself sprawled on the ground, his lower right jaw throbbing in a manner that the experienced general knew would cause a blooming bruise in a few hours. When he blinked to gain his bearings, his ears ringing from the blow, only then did Irakles see Stephanos being hauled off him screaming profanities about taking his life, while his personal guard and royal guard alike struggled to hold the unhinged king away from the fallen prince.
"Your temper and emotions will be your downfall, nephew." He inwardly gloated. Outwardly, Irakles smiled, waving off a few people who had dashed to help him up, and instead, moved to straighten himself. Feet back on the ground, he dusted the sand and debris off his chiton which was now wrinkled and slightly stained. By then, Stephanos had been hauled out, and when Irakles turned to look at the remainder of the lords, the Chief Advisor had a worried, almost fed up look on his face, obviously quite convinced by now that Stephanos's display of anger was a point against him. If the man could show such anger towards his uncle in the public's eye, what could he have done to his own father in private had the old King Zenon stated something Stephanos had been displeased with?
Irakles could see the look the man wore, but he nodded, straightening the front of his chiton that Stephanos had gripped, before turning to address the crowd. "I would like to apologize for my nephew's behavior. I truly, deeply hope the results of our impending investigation would turn up evidence against what I had so far uncovered, but in that matter, I will humbly request from help from all the lords of the Senate to ensure that justice can be served." He bowed from his waist down to all, and then straightened up again. "We have been here long enough, so I believe that court can dismiss for today?" Flicking his gaze over to check with the Chief Advisor, the man nodded, and then addressed the senate.
"In the absence of the King, the current heir apparent, Prince Irakles, shall be acting regent in place of the King, until a conclusion can be reached."
A murmur of approval hummed throughout the Senate, and in response, the prince tilted his head in thanks to the Chief Advisor, and turned to give a small, almost uncertain smile to the remaining lords. "I hope I do not disappoint you all."
But of course, he wouldn't. He had always been meant to be King, afterall.
Watching as his friend and ally stepped down, a rare occurence for Fotios of Leventi was known to keep to himself - it was obvious that the members of the Senate were listening with rapt attention. A former Master Informer to the crown, he was known to have much information, accurate as it was deadly, and his opinion was not one that should be easily ignored. And of course, Fotios's words backed his, which gave Irakles an even greater standing point on what he had already presented to the lords in attendance.
It was not an accusation, at least not the way Fotios and Irakles had phrased it. They had meant it to be a way to get the lords to agree to a questioning, but putting Stephanos under house arrest until the questioning could became meant that his fool of a nephew could not find a way to find proper evidence or to fend for himself.
The ends justifies the means.
It did not escape Irakles's eyes that his own son seemed to not react in accordance to the court as the Chief Advisor posed the question to the floor on action to be taken after the revelations in the senate. Inwardly, his eyes narrowed, but to the public, the prince was careful to not let any emotion show. He had worked too long and hard now to let his wayward son's actions sway his hard earned results.
Instead, the prince focused as a flurry of movement showed a majority of the lords in attendance raising their hands to agree with the suggestion of the Chief Advisor on keeping the current new King and his spouse under house arrest.
That was as much as Irakles could get however, before a sudden mess of noise, limbs and footsteps, and the next thing he knew, he found himself sprawled on the ground, his lower right jaw throbbing in a manner that the experienced general knew would cause a blooming bruise in a few hours. When he blinked to gain his bearings, his ears ringing from the blow, only then did Irakles see Stephanos being hauled off him screaming profanities about taking his life, while his personal guard and royal guard alike struggled to hold the unhinged king away from the fallen prince.
"Your temper and emotions will be your downfall, nephew." He inwardly gloated. Outwardly, Irakles smiled, waving off a few people who had dashed to help him up, and instead, moved to straighten himself. Feet back on the ground, he dusted the sand and debris off his chiton which was now wrinkled and slightly stained. By then, Stephanos had been hauled out, and when Irakles turned to look at the remainder of the lords, the Chief Advisor had a worried, almost fed up look on his face, obviously quite convinced by now that Stephanos's display of anger was a point against him. If the man could show such anger towards his uncle in the public's eye, what could he have done to his own father in private had the old King Zenon stated something Stephanos had been displeased with?
Irakles could see the look the man wore, but he nodded, straightening the front of his chiton that Stephanos had gripped, before turning to address the crowd. "I would like to apologize for my nephew's behavior. I truly, deeply hope the results of our impending investigation would turn up evidence against what I had so far uncovered, but in that matter, I will humbly request from help from all the lords of the Senate to ensure that justice can be served." He bowed from his waist down to all, and then straightened up again. "We have been here long enough, so I believe that court can dismiss for today?" Flicking his gaze over to check with the Chief Advisor, the man nodded, and then addressed the senate.
"In the absence of the King, the current heir apparent, Prince Irakles, shall be acting regent in place of the King, until a conclusion can be reached."
A murmur of approval hummed throughout the Senate, and in response, the prince tilted his head in thanks to the Chief Advisor, and turned to give a small, almost uncertain smile to the remaining lords. "I hope I do not disappoint you all."
But of course, he wouldn't. He had always been meant to be King, afterall.
Imeeya had settled into watching the meeting, expecting it to be business as usual. As the Senate went through the normal procedures, Imeeya was glad for the distraction as she was joined by Nana of Leventi. While she found the overfamiliarity of the woman coming over and immediately touching her offputting, Imeeya was never anything less than polite. ”No of course. I’d love some company. This senate session has been so dull.” Imeeya instantly regretted her choice of words as things within the Senate took a sudden turn.
Imeeya was surprised by the accusations put forth by Prince Irakles. While she didn’t know the King well, she had traveled with him to Meganea and she hadn’t thought he seemed the type to kill his own father and brother. Still, it didn’t do to underestimate someone. Imeeya watched with a careful eye as the Prince called witness after witness to speak to King Stephanos’s guilt. This wasn’t looking good for the King. Not wanting to miss a word of the evidence, Imeeya ignored Nana’s increasingly tightening grip on her, much as she longed to brush the woman off of her. She was considering trying to find a way to extricate herself from Nana’s grip when she offered an observation about the witnesses that Imeeya had missed. Imeeya frowned a bit considering the implications, why would someone be so reluctant to tell the truth? ”They’re scared.” Imeeya observed. ”But that’s not a point in either side’s favor, they could be scared of reprisal for telling the truth, or they’ve been threatened into what they said.” Imeeya didn’t have any reason to pick a side, and she was determined to keep as neutral an eye as possible on the situation, so she didn’t miss anything important.
Imeeya reconsidered her urge to remove the clinging girl. Perhaps she’d make some other useful observations. So she tolerated Nana as she clung tighter when it was announced that both the king and his wife were to be placed on house arrest. Imeeya shook her head as Nana expressed her dismay. It was a power play. Even if they fully believed these accusations, an assumption she was beginning to question, she could see no reason that they would need to hold his heavily pregnant wife under house arrest as well. As Nana spoke it all began to fall into place. Being held under house arrest would mean that anyone with designs against the King would know exactly where to find him. That piece of information had almost made it worth it to have the woman clinging to her arm throughout the Senate proceedings. Almost.
Luckily, for her at least, if not for the king, Nana removed her hand from Imeeya to gasp as the King went and punched Prince Irakles in the face. Well, that would complicate things. If the King was indeed innocent, he wasn’t doing a good job of making himself look like it. As the King was dragged out of the Senate, it concluded slightly after that. Imeeya was still shocked at how abrupt of a turn the Senate meeting had taken at the end. While she could understand the impulse to anger at being accused of something, it was hardly the behavior she would have expected of a king. He would have been better served to have made his argument with his words instead of his fists.
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Imeeya had settled into watching the meeting, expecting it to be business as usual. As the Senate went through the normal procedures, Imeeya was glad for the distraction as she was joined by Nana of Leventi. While she found the overfamiliarity of the woman coming over and immediately touching her offputting, Imeeya was never anything less than polite. ”No of course. I’d love some company. This senate session has been so dull.” Imeeya instantly regretted her choice of words as things within the Senate took a sudden turn.
Imeeya was surprised by the accusations put forth by Prince Irakles. While she didn’t know the King well, she had traveled with him to Meganea and she hadn’t thought he seemed the type to kill his own father and brother. Still, it didn’t do to underestimate someone. Imeeya watched with a careful eye as the Prince called witness after witness to speak to King Stephanos’s guilt. This wasn’t looking good for the King. Not wanting to miss a word of the evidence, Imeeya ignored Nana’s increasingly tightening grip on her, much as she longed to brush the woman off of her. She was considering trying to find a way to extricate herself from Nana’s grip when she offered an observation about the witnesses that Imeeya had missed. Imeeya frowned a bit considering the implications, why would someone be so reluctant to tell the truth? ”They’re scared.” Imeeya observed. ”But that’s not a point in either side’s favor, they could be scared of reprisal for telling the truth, or they’ve been threatened into what they said.” Imeeya didn’t have any reason to pick a side, and she was determined to keep as neutral an eye as possible on the situation, so she didn’t miss anything important.
Imeeya reconsidered her urge to remove the clinging girl. Perhaps she’d make some other useful observations. So she tolerated Nana as she clung tighter when it was announced that both the king and his wife were to be placed on house arrest. Imeeya shook her head as Nana expressed her dismay. It was a power play. Even if they fully believed these accusations, an assumption she was beginning to question, she could see no reason that they would need to hold his heavily pregnant wife under house arrest as well. As Nana spoke it all began to fall into place. Being held under house arrest would mean that anyone with designs against the King would know exactly where to find him. That piece of information had almost made it worth it to have the woman clinging to her arm throughout the Senate proceedings. Almost.
Luckily, for her at least, if not for the king, Nana removed her hand from Imeeya to gasp as the King went and punched Prince Irakles in the face. Well, that would complicate things. If the King was indeed innocent, he wasn’t doing a good job of making himself look like it. As the King was dragged out of the Senate, it concluded slightly after that. Imeeya was still shocked at how abrupt of a turn the Senate meeting had taken at the end. While she could understand the impulse to anger at being accused of something, it was hardly the behavior she would have expected of a king. He would have been better served to have made his argument with his words instead of his fists.
Imeeya had settled into watching the meeting, expecting it to be business as usual. As the Senate went through the normal procedures, Imeeya was glad for the distraction as she was joined by Nana of Leventi. While she found the overfamiliarity of the woman coming over and immediately touching her offputting, Imeeya was never anything less than polite. ”No of course. I’d love some company. This senate session has been so dull.” Imeeya instantly regretted her choice of words as things within the Senate took a sudden turn.
Imeeya was surprised by the accusations put forth by Prince Irakles. While she didn’t know the King well, she had traveled with him to Meganea and she hadn’t thought he seemed the type to kill his own father and brother. Still, it didn’t do to underestimate someone. Imeeya watched with a careful eye as the Prince called witness after witness to speak to King Stephanos’s guilt. This wasn’t looking good for the King. Not wanting to miss a word of the evidence, Imeeya ignored Nana’s increasingly tightening grip on her, much as she longed to brush the woman off of her. She was considering trying to find a way to extricate herself from Nana’s grip when she offered an observation about the witnesses that Imeeya had missed. Imeeya frowned a bit considering the implications, why would someone be so reluctant to tell the truth? ”They’re scared.” Imeeya observed. ”But that’s not a point in either side’s favor, they could be scared of reprisal for telling the truth, or they’ve been threatened into what they said.” Imeeya didn’t have any reason to pick a side, and she was determined to keep as neutral an eye as possible on the situation, so she didn’t miss anything important.
Imeeya reconsidered her urge to remove the clinging girl. Perhaps she’d make some other useful observations. So she tolerated Nana as she clung tighter when it was announced that both the king and his wife were to be placed on house arrest. Imeeya shook her head as Nana expressed her dismay. It was a power play. Even if they fully believed these accusations, an assumption she was beginning to question, she could see no reason that they would need to hold his heavily pregnant wife under house arrest as well. As Nana spoke it all began to fall into place. Being held under house arrest would mean that anyone with designs against the King would know exactly where to find him. That piece of information had almost made it worth it to have the woman clinging to her arm throughout the Senate proceedings. Almost.
Luckily, for her at least, if not for the king, Nana removed her hand from Imeeya to gasp as the King went and punched Prince Irakles in the face. Well, that would complicate things. If the King was indeed innocent, he wasn’t doing a good job of making himself look like it. As the King was dragged out of the Senate, it concluded slightly after that. Imeeya was still shocked at how abrupt of a turn the Senate meeting had taken at the end. While she could understand the impulse to anger at being accused of something, it was hardly the behavior she would have expected of a king. He would have been better served to have made his argument with his words instead of his fists.
Achilleas did not miss the heavy ‘I told you so’ in his King’s gaze when they briefly made eye contact, and he felt almost guilty for not having seen, for not having known and done something. Not that there was any action that he could have taken - his father presented a incriminating case, and had he not grown up with Stephanos, he would likely have been as won over by it as the rest of the room.
But they were family, playmates...he could not accept this information presented as fact to the Senate, and so when the call to vote rang out there was no motion from the Baron of Euttica. In studiously avoiding looking at his father, Achilleas instead found himself gazing into the stricken face of Stephanos’ youngest sister. He could offer her no comfort: it was clear enough that the motion to place both Stephanos and Olympia under house arrest would come to pass anyway, but in that moment he was glad not to be one of those to consent to such an action.
The King’s attempts to add his voice to the case were denied, and Achilleas saw how his father had crafted this so it was so. He swallowed, the knowledge that the man would take things so far to get Stephanos off the throne sitting like a lump in his throat. Why though?
Thoughts spinning, the warrior was slow to react when the King lost his control and launched himself at Irakles. Achilleas had risen to his feet, but his limbs felt leaden and he could not make them move, watching aghast as Stephanos was hauled away, invoking the Gods and spitting curses and threats. By the time he had found it in himself to stir, he could see his Father being helped to his feet, and he looked around at the shocked and startled faces in the arctus.
What had been set in motion here would not be easily undone, suggestions and implications worn into a clever tapestry that would need to be unpicked- but how? If Stephanos could refute the more damning evidence, then he had still just openly attacked his own Uncle. It was a mess and Achilleas could not help but think that was precisely what had been intended. A hand came up to rub at the back of his neck and he looked briefly towards his father as the man addressed the senate once more.
And then it was the Chief Advisor who spoke and Achilleas looked at Emilios as he heard their father pronounced acting regent. Was that motivator enough for all of this? Or was there something else beyond a desire for power? He couldn’t untangle the jumble of thoughts as they came to him, and it seemed others faired the same as the meeting was drawn to a close, and a fevered murmuring spread through the assembled Lords.
“I did not know” he found himself uttering to his brother, not wanting Emilios to think that he had been part of the planning of this. But he had been primed to come here and vote one particular way, and not having done it, Achilleas felt a rather selfish worry kick in too. It was not that he was unused to bearing his father’s disapproval, but it was rare indeed that he would court it, and there was a prickle of unease that he had just done exactly that.
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Achilleas did not miss the heavy ‘I told you so’ in his King’s gaze when they briefly made eye contact, and he felt almost guilty for not having seen, for not having known and done something. Not that there was any action that he could have taken - his father presented a incriminating case, and had he not grown up with Stephanos, he would likely have been as won over by it as the rest of the room.
But they were family, playmates...he could not accept this information presented as fact to the Senate, and so when the call to vote rang out there was no motion from the Baron of Euttica. In studiously avoiding looking at his father, Achilleas instead found himself gazing into the stricken face of Stephanos’ youngest sister. He could offer her no comfort: it was clear enough that the motion to place both Stephanos and Olympia under house arrest would come to pass anyway, but in that moment he was glad not to be one of those to consent to such an action.
The King’s attempts to add his voice to the case were denied, and Achilleas saw how his father had crafted this so it was so. He swallowed, the knowledge that the man would take things so far to get Stephanos off the throne sitting like a lump in his throat. Why though?
Thoughts spinning, the warrior was slow to react when the King lost his control and launched himself at Irakles. Achilleas had risen to his feet, but his limbs felt leaden and he could not make them move, watching aghast as Stephanos was hauled away, invoking the Gods and spitting curses and threats. By the time he had found it in himself to stir, he could see his Father being helped to his feet, and he looked around at the shocked and startled faces in the arctus.
What had been set in motion here would not be easily undone, suggestions and implications worn into a clever tapestry that would need to be unpicked- but how? If Stephanos could refute the more damning evidence, then he had still just openly attacked his own Uncle. It was a mess and Achilleas could not help but think that was precisely what had been intended. A hand came up to rub at the back of his neck and he looked briefly towards his father as the man addressed the senate once more.
And then it was the Chief Advisor who spoke and Achilleas looked at Emilios as he heard their father pronounced acting regent. Was that motivator enough for all of this? Or was there something else beyond a desire for power? He couldn’t untangle the jumble of thoughts as they came to him, and it seemed others faired the same as the meeting was drawn to a close, and a fevered murmuring spread through the assembled Lords.
“I did not know” he found himself uttering to his brother, not wanting Emilios to think that he had been part of the planning of this. But he had been primed to come here and vote one particular way, and not having done it, Achilleas felt a rather selfish worry kick in too. It was not that he was unused to bearing his father’s disapproval, but it was rare indeed that he would court it, and there was a prickle of unease that he had just done exactly that.
Achilleas did not miss the heavy ‘I told you so’ in his King’s gaze when they briefly made eye contact, and he felt almost guilty for not having seen, for not having known and done something. Not that there was any action that he could have taken - his father presented a incriminating case, and had he not grown up with Stephanos, he would likely have been as won over by it as the rest of the room.
But they were family, playmates...he could not accept this information presented as fact to the Senate, and so when the call to vote rang out there was no motion from the Baron of Euttica. In studiously avoiding looking at his father, Achilleas instead found himself gazing into the stricken face of Stephanos’ youngest sister. He could offer her no comfort: it was clear enough that the motion to place both Stephanos and Olympia under house arrest would come to pass anyway, but in that moment he was glad not to be one of those to consent to such an action.
The King’s attempts to add his voice to the case were denied, and Achilleas saw how his father had crafted this so it was so. He swallowed, the knowledge that the man would take things so far to get Stephanos off the throne sitting like a lump in his throat. Why though?
Thoughts spinning, the warrior was slow to react when the King lost his control and launched himself at Irakles. Achilleas had risen to his feet, but his limbs felt leaden and he could not make them move, watching aghast as Stephanos was hauled away, invoking the Gods and spitting curses and threats. By the time he had found it in himself to stir, he could see his Father being helped to his feet, and he looked around at the shocked and startled faces in the arctus.
What had been set in motion here would not be easily undone, suggestions and implications worn into a clever tapestry that would need to be unpicked- but how? If Stephanos could refute the more damning evidence, then he had still just openly attacked his own Uncle. It was a mess and Achilleas could not help but think that was precisely what had been intended. A hand came up to rub at the back of his neck and he looked briefly towards his father as the man addressed the senate once more.
And then it was the Chief Advisor who spoke and Achilleas looked at Emilios as he heard their father pronounced acting regent. Was that motivator enough for all of this? Or was there something else beyond a desire for power? He couldn’t untangle the jumble of thoughts as they came to him, and it seemed others faired the same as the meeting was drawn to a close, and a fevered murmuring spread through the assembled Lords.
“I did not know” he found himself uttering to his brother, not wanting Emilios to think that he had been part of the planning of this. But he had been primed to come here and vote one particular way, and not having done it, Achilleas felt a rather selfish worry kick in too. It was not that he was unused to bearing his father’s disapproval, but it was rare indeed that he would court it, and there was a prickle of unease that he had just done exactly that.
Fotios said nothing after he had stood and suggested his piece, offering the king the opportunity to follow along with the punishment offered with dignity of an innocent man. For that was what his niece would surely have appreciated him doing. Instead, Stephanos had taken an alternate route that had only served to lend further credence and suspicion to Prince Irakles' accusations. Punching the man in the face.
Fotios would have smiled if he hadn't better control of his features. It was so easy to inflame the young into bouts prideful rage. So young and so determined to defend their own honour without having any idea how to do so in the eyes of anyone but themselves. It was youthful folly that only go people in trouble. Case in point, their current King.
The second Stephanos' fist made connection with Irakles' jaw the entire amphitheatre went into chaos. Lords were on their feet yelling, a few in the front rows were rushing forwards to try and ensure the return of peace, breaking the King and his uncle apart and holding them both in place.
Fotios watched as Irakles played his part perfectly and did nothing to retaliate, simply holding up his hands to indicate he was calm and allowing the other lords and the guards that had rushed forwards to remove their hands from his person. Irakles was, for all the world to see, a calm and respected politician with the military background to have fought on an even playing field with his young nephew. And yet he had been the maturer of the two and done nothing to escalate the altercation.
Stephanos by contrast looked almost crazed as the guards from the amphitheatre's entrance had rushed forwards the take the place of the senators in securing the king's arms.
In no time at all, the damning impression of King Stephanos had been planted in the minds of the senators and the king had been removed from the theatre before he was able to prove himself otherwise.
With set intentions in mind, Fotios stood from his seat and, hidden amongst the senators already on their feet, headed down the steps and rows of seats towards where the Chief Advisor stood with his colleagues. He paused only to speak briefly to Lord Emilios and his brother Achilleas, seated closer to the royal dais.
"Perhaps you should go to check on your father." He offered, in a low tone, before moving onwards. He knew full well what it would look like to have the two Mikaelidas men - respected Commanders in their own right - move to their father's side over the man being escorted from the dikastirio by force. But neither could the two men deny that checking the Prince for injury was part of their duties as his sons. Not to mention the wrath that would befall them and the suspicion upon him should they fail to show loyalty to the man in this context.
He said nothing but the single, pointed suggestion and headed further towards the advisors whom he stood with for but a moment to ensure that, upon leaving, all of the Senators would be encouraged to keep news of the King's incarceration to only the nobility. It would not due to have the information spread to the common folk and the safety that Taengea had been luxuriating in these last few weeks disturbed.
Beyond those two comments, Fotios lent no further word to the discussions of the Senate, made no public show of himself and, instead simply headed out of the main archways that led to the open arcus where the women of the nobility awaited. As the King had been detained and taken out a hidden way - through the same passages that convicted criminals were escorted between the Fylaki and the Dikastirio (for his own image and reputation, of course) Fotios was one of the first men to step out into a collection of women who wished to know exactly what had happened inside the amphitheatre's walls...
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Fotios said nothing after he had stood and suggested his piece, offering the king the opportunity to follow along with the punishment offered with dignity of an innocent man. For that was what his niece would surely have appreciated him doing. Instead, Stephanos had taken an alternate route that had only served to lend further credence and suspicion to Prince Irakles' accusations. Punching the man in the face.
Fotios would have smiled if he hadn't better control of his features. It was so easy to inflame the young into bouts prideful rage. So young and so determined to defend their own honour without having any idea how to do so in the eyes of anyone but themselves. It was youthful folly that only go people in trouble. Case in point, their current King.
The second Stephanos' fist made connection with Irakles' jaw the entire amphitheatre went into chaos. Lords were on their feet yelling, a few in the front rows were rushing forwards to try and ensure the return of peace, breaking the King and his uncle apart and holding them both in place.
Fotios watched as Irakles played his part perfectly and did nothing to retaliate, simply holding up his hands to indicate he was calm and allowing the other lords and the guards that had rushed forwards to remove their hands from his person. Irakles was, for all the world to see, a calm and respected politician with the military background to have fought on an even playing field with his young nephew. And yet he had been the maturer of the two and done nothing to escalate the altercation.
Stephanos by contrast looked almost crazed as the guards from the amphitheatre's entrance had rushed forwards the take the place of the senators in securing the king's arms.
In no time at all, the damning impression of King Stephanos had been planted in the minds of the senators and the king had been removed from the theatre before he was able to prove himself otherwise.
With set intentions in mind, Fotios stood from his seat and, hidden amongst the senators already on their feet, headed down the steps and rows of seats towards where the Chief Advisor stood with his colleagues. He paused only to speak briefly to Lord Emilios and his brother Achilleas, seated closer to the royal dais.
"Perhaps you should go to check on your father." He offered, in a low tone, before moving onwards. He knew full well what it would look like to have the two Mikaelidas men - respected Commanders in their own right - move to their father's side over the man being escorted from the dikastirio by force. But neither could the two men deny that checking the Prince for injury was part of their duties as his sons. Not to mention the wrath that would befall them and the suspicion upon him should they fail to show loyalty to the man in this context.
He said nothing but the single, pointed suggestion and headed further towards the advisors whom he stood with for but a moment to ensure that, upon leaving, all of the Senators would be encouraged to keep news of the King's incarceration to only the nobility. It would not due to have the information spread to the common folk and the safety that Taengea had been luxuriating in these last few weeks disturbed.
Beyond those two comments, Fotios lent no further word to the discussions of the Senate, made no public show of himself and, instead simply headed out of the main archways that led to the open arcus where the women of the nobility awaited. As the King had been detained and taken out a hidden way - through the same passages that convicted criminals were escorted between the Fylaki and the Dikastirio (for his own image and reputation, of course) Fotios was one of the first men to step out into a collection of women who wished to know exactly what had happened inside the amphitheatre's walls...
Fotios said nothing after he had stood and suggested his piece, offering the king the opportunity to follow along with the punishment offered with dignity of an innocent man. For that was what his niece would surely have appreciated him doing. Instead, Stephanos had taken an alternate route that had only served to lend further credence and suspicion to Prince Irakles' accusations. Punching the man in the face.
Fotios would have smiled if he hadn't better control of his features. It was so easy to inflame the young into bouts prideful rage. So young and so determined to defend their own honour without having any idea how to do so in the eyes of anyone but themselves. It was youthful folly that only go people in trouble. Case in point, their current King.
The second Stephanos' fist made connection with Irakles' jaw the entire amphitheatre went into chaos. Lords were on their feet yelling, a few in the front rows were rushing forwards to try and ensure the return of peace, breaking the King and his uncle apart and holding them both in place.
Fotios watched as Irakles played his part perfectly and did nothing to retaliate, simply holding up his hands to indicate he was calm and allowing the other lords and the guards that had rushed forwards to remove their hands from his person. Irakles was, for all the world to see, a calm and respected politician with the military background to have fought on an even playing field with his young nephew. And yet he had been the maturer of the two and done nothing to escalate the altercation.
Stephanos by contrast looked almost crazed as the guards from the amphitheatre's entrance had rushed forwards the take the place of the senators in securing the king's arms.
In no time at all, the damning impression of King Stephanos had been planted in the minds of the senators and the king had been removed from the theatre before he was able to prove himself otherwise.
With set intentions in mind, Fotios stood from his seat and, hidden amongst the senators already on their feet, headed down the steps and rows of seats towards where the Chief Advisor stood with his colleagues. He paused only to speak briefly to Lord Emilios and his brother Achilleas, seated closer to the royal dais.
"Perhaps you should go to check on your father." He offered, in a low tone, before moving onwards. He knew full well what it would look like to have the two Mikaelidas men - respected Commanders in their own right - move to their father's side over the man being escorted from the dikastirio by force. But neither could the two men deny that checking the Prince for injury was part of their duties as his sons. Not to mention the wrath that would befall them and the suspicion upon him should they fail to show loyalty to the man in this context.
He said nothing but the single, pointed suggestion and headed further towards the advisors whom he stood with for but a moment to ensure that, upon leaving, all of the Senators would be encouraged to keep news of the King's incarceration to only the nobility. It would not due to have the information spread to the common folk and the safety that Taengea had been luxuriating in these last few weeks disturbed.
Beyond those two comments, Fotios lent no further word to the discussions of the Senate, made no public show of himself and, instead simply headed out of the main archways that led to the open arcus where the women of the nobility awaited. As the King had been detained and taken out a hidden way - through the same passages that convicted criminals were escorted between the Fylaki and the Dikastirio (for his own image and reputation, of course) Fotios was one of the first men to step out into a collection of women who wished to know exactly what had happened inside the amphitheatre's walls...
Achilleas was still standing, watching the guards wrestling his cousin who fought all the way, watching other noble Lords rushing to check upon his father who was brushing himself down with a suitably quiet dignity.
Chaos
It was the voice of his Father’s long standing friend that broke through, the elder of the brothers turning to look upon Fotios as he paused upon the stone steps, urging them to go and check on their father.
Of course. Of course they should be doing that. Achilleas gave a short sharp nod and then he was striding down the steps, his physical presence alone enough to see those milling about clear a path for him. He just assumed Emilios would follow.
Reaching Irakles’ side, Achilleas hesitated. He had, not moments before, deliberately gone against the man’s instructions and he did not know if such a thing would have been noted. He decided he hoped not, in the immediacy.
But swallowing that, the son gave a bow and then straightened, cast a glance over his father who seemed for the most part well, save for a gathering bruise upon his jaw.
“Your Highness….Father, you are unharmed?” There was concern there, but still Achilleas was reserved, almost a little wary. Stunned, really, with everything he had just witnessed and not knowing who he should hold to account for what.
His father as acting Regent. It was not hard to see that it was an outcome the man would be overjoyed with, and that in itself made it difficult for Achilleas to believe the convenient evidence that had been put forward, even without feeling sympathetic towards his cousin and not thinking him capable of such dark deeds as murdering his own Father and Brother.
He found himself glancing over his shoulder for his Emilios. With their father’s personal guard and a good proportion of the royal guard having ‘escorted’ the King back to the Palati, Achilleas supposed it would not be a bad thing for he and his brother to remain by the man’s side. That Stephanos had reached him spoke poorly of the guards, and Achilleas questioned his own reactions too. That would need to be addressed at some point.
The Lords and Barons had begun to file out,news would spread around the noble hosueholds like wildfire now as those who had witnessed the happenings dissipated through the Kingdom. Achilleas would have liked to been with them, to escape for a little while. He needed some space to find his way through everything that just happened.
It was not so easily done though, people would be watching and duty would see him stand beside his father, and so that is what the Lord Mikaelidas would do.
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Achilleas was still standing, watching the guards wrestling his cousin who fought all the way, watching other noble Lords rushing to check upon his father who was brushing himself down with a suitably quiet dignity.
Chaos
It was the voice of his Father’s long standing friend that broke through, the elder of the brothers turning to look upon Fotios as he paused upon the stone steps, urging them to go and check on their father.
Of course. Of course they should be doing that. Achilleas gave a short sharp nod and then he was striding down the steps, his physical presence alone enough to see those milling about clear a path for him. He just assumed Emilios would follow.
Reaching Irakles’ side, Achilleas hesitated. He had, not moments before, deliberately gone against the man’s instructions and he did not know if such a thing would have been noted. He decided he hoped not, in the immediacy.
But swallowing that, the son gave a bow and then straightened, cast a glance over his father who seemed for the most part well, save for a gathering bruise upon his jaw.
“Your Highness….Father, you are unharmed?” There was concern there, but still Achilleas was reserved, almost a little wary. Stunned, really, with everything he had just witnessed and not knowing who he should hold to account for what.
His father as acting Regent. It was not hard to see that it was an outcome the man would be overjoyed with, and that in itself made it difficult for Achilleas to believe the convenient evidence that had been put forward, even without feeling sympathetic towards his cousin and not thinking him capable of such dark deeds as murdering his own Father and Brother.
He found himself glancing over his shoulder for his Emilios. With their father’s personal guard and a good proportion of the royal guard having ‘escorted’ the King back to the Palati, Achilleas supposed it would not be a bad thing for he and his brother to remain by the man’s side. That Stephanos had reached him spoke poorly of the guards, and Achilleas questioned his own reactions too. That would need to be addressed at some point.
The Lords and Barons had begun to file out,news would spread around the noble hosueholds like wildfire now as those who had witnessed the happenings dissipated through the Kingdom. Achilleas would have liked to been with them, to escape for a little while. He needed some space to find his way through everything that just happened.
It was not so easily done though, people would be watching and duty would see him stand beside his father, and so that is what the Lord Mikaelidas would do.
Achilleas was still standing, watching the guards wrestling his cousin who fought all the way, watching other noble Lords rushing to check upon his father who was brushing himself down with a suitably quiet dignity.
Chaos
It was the voice of his Father’s long standing friend that broke through, the elder of the brothers turning to look upon Fotios as he paused upon the stone steps, urging them to go and check on their father.
Of course. Of course they should be doing that. Achilleas gave a short sharp nod and then he was striding down the steps, his physical presence alone enough to see those milling about clear a path for him. He just assumed Emilios would follow.
Reaching Irakles’ side, Achilleas hesitated. He had, not moments before, deliberately gone against the man’s instructions and he did not know if such a thing would have been noted. He decided he hoped not, in the immediacy.
But swallowing that, the son gave a bow and then straightened, cast a glance over his father who seemed for the most part well, save for a gathering bruise upon his jaw.
“Your Highness….Father, you are unharmed?” There was concern there, but still Achilleas was reserved, almost a little wary. Stunned, really, with everything he had just witnessed and not knowing who he should hold to account for what.
His father as acting Regent. It was not hard to see that it was an outcome the man would be overjoyed with, and that in itself made it difficult for Achilleas to believe the convenient evidence that had been put forward, even without feeling sympathetic towards his cousin and not thinking him capable of such dark deeds as murdering his own Father and Brother.
He found himself glancing over his shoulder for his Emilios. With their father’s personal guard and a good proportion of the royal guard having ‘escorted’ the King back to the Palati, Achilleas supposed it would not be a bad thing for he and his brother to remain by the man’s side. That Stephanos had reached him spoke poorly of the guards, and Achilleas questioned his own reactions too. That would need to be addressed at some point.
The Lords and Barons had begun to file out,news would spread around the noble hosueholds like wildfire now as those who had witnessed the happenings dissipated through the Kingdom. Achilleas would have liked to been with them, to escape for a little while. He needed some space to find his way through everything that just happened.
It was not so easily done though, people would be watching and duty would see him stand beside his father, and so that is what the Lord Mikaelidas would do.
Politics was not his forte. He didn’t often attend these things unless asked by his father to do so. But he tried to keep up in this suddenly fast moving act of… he couldn’t even think of how to describe what his father was doing at this point. He didn’t believe either of the witnesses, not knowing how much now his father had done to make Stephanos appear the guilty party.
And Emilios felt a small blush rise to his cheeks, knowing that he hadn’t helped his cousin’s cause by giving into his former ways of debauchery. But they were the spares, and it was easy to get caught up in their bond. Those who voted against him must have known that Emilios had been a part of it all too.
Did they think he played a role? Kept it to themselves for fear of retribution from Irakles? Luckily, he didn’t seem to feel the heat of the crowd on him. No, the focus was on Stephanos, who was processing the deceit in his own uncle.
And then, he dropped the bomb. House arrest. Murder. Prince Regent. And then, Stephanos let the punch fly.
He wanted to clap, to praise him for doing what he’d wanted to do to the man since Zenon died. But chaos interrupted all around them, and it quickly became apparent that the meeting was over. His face must have looked incredulous, because his brother was quick to deny any involvement in this. ”Father usually doesn’t need our help to do what he does.” He said under his breath, eyes on Stephanos as he was escorted from the room and led back to the Palati. Emilios wanted to follow his cousin, to try and figure out just what would happen next. But the Fotios approached, reminding them that their loyalty needed to be with their father. As much as he wanted to ignore his suggestion, he knew that he needed to keep the Leventi man on his side.
They had an agreement, and he didn’t wish to put the whole Leventi clan out of potential marriages because if his own foolishness. So he followed Achilleas’ lead, approaching their father’s side but keeping his distance overall. ”I would imagine it would take more than that for Father to be injured.” His pride, maybe, but his jaw wouldn’t be worse for wear. ”That was… enlightening.”
To say the least.
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Politics was not his forte. He didn’t often attend these things unless asked by his father to do so. But he tried to keep up in this suddenly fast moving act of… he couldn’t even think of how to describe what his father was doing at this point. He didn’t believe either of the witnesses, not knowing how much now his father had done to make Stephanos appear the guilty party.
And Emilios felt a small blush rise to his cheeks, knowing that he hadn’t helped his cousin’s cause by giving into his former ways of debauchery. But they were the spares, and it was easy to get caught up in their bond. Those who voted against him must have known that Emilios had been a part of it all too.
Did they think he played a role? Kept it to themselves for fear of retribution from Irakles? Luckily, he didn’t seem to feel the heat of the crowd on him. No, the focus was on Stephanos, who was processing the deceit in his own uncle.
And then, he dropped the bomb. House arrest. Murder. Prince Regent. And then, Stephanos let the punch fly.
He wanted to clap, to praise him for doing what he’d wanted to do to the man since Zenon died. But chaos interrupted all around them, and it quickly became apparent that the meeting was over. His face must have looked incredulous, because his brother was quick to deny any involvement in this. ”Father usually doesn’t need our help to do what he does.” He said under his breath, eyes on Stephanos as he was escorted from the room and led back to the Palati. Emilios wanted to follow his cousin, to try and figure out just what would happen next. But the Fotios approached, reminding them that their loyalty needed to be with their father. As much as he wanted to ignore his suggestion, he knew that he needed to keep the Leventi man on his side.
They had an agreement, and he didn’t wish to put the whole Leventi clan out of potential marriages because if his own foolishness. So he followed Achilleas’ lead, approaching their father’s side but keeping his distance overall. ”I would imagine it would take more than that for Father to be injured.” His pride, maybe, but his jaw wouldn’t be worse for wear. ”That was… enlightening.”
To say the least.
Politics was not his forte. He didn’t often attend these things unless asked by his father to do so. But he tried to keep up in this suddenly fast moving act of… he couldn’t even think of how to describe what his father was doing at this point. He didn’t believe either of the witnesses, not knowing how much now his father had done to make Stephanos appear the guilty party.
And Emilios felt a small blush rise to his cheeks, knowing that he hadn’t helped his cousin’s cause by giving into his former ways of debauchery. But they were the spares, and it was easy to get caught up in their bond. Those who voted against him must have known that Emilios had been a part of it all too.
Did they think he played a role? Kept it to themselves for fear of retribution from Irakles? Luckily, he didn’t seem to feel the heat of the crowd on him. No, the focus was on Stephanos, who was processing the deceit in his own uncle.
And then, he dropped the bomb. House arrest. Murder. Prince Regent. And then, Stephanos let the punch fly.
He wanted to clap, to praise him for doing what he’d wanted to do to the man since Zenon died. But chaos interrupted all around them, and it quickly became apparent that the meeting was over. His face must have looked incredulous, because his brother was quick to deny any involvement in this. ”Father usually doesn’t need our help to do what he does.” He said under his breath, eyes on Stephanos as he was escorted from the room and led back to the Palati. Emilios wanted to follow his cousin, to try and figure out just what would happen next. But the Fotios approached, reminding them that their loyalty needed to be with their father. As much as he wanted to ignore his suggestion, he knew that he needed to keep the Leventi man on his side.
They had an agreement, and he didn’t wish to put the whole Leventi clan out of potential marriages because if his own foolishness. So he followed Achilleas’ lead, approaching their father’s side but keeping his distance overall. ”I would imagine it would take more than that for Father to be injured.” His pride, maybe, but his jaw wouldn’t be worse for wear. ”That was… enlightening.”
To say the least.
It was pandemonium. Gavriil was up on his feet along with the rest of the lords. Along with a few others, he’d thought the evidence produced was extremely damning...if true. And, of course, he’d have been happy for the king to go on trial. After all, an innocent man had nothing to hide. This was the fairest, and best course of action.
Then Stephanos had dropped the Prince to the floor. Guards leapt into action, people were on their feet, shouts rang in his ears, the king was practically foaming at the mouth in rage, calling down the gods and who knew what else. This was all folly in the highest sense and he was wrapped up in the middle of this crowd with no real sense of where to go first.
Part of him wanted to go immediately to the palati and demand of Stephanos if he’d lost his mind. Another part wanted to rush toward Irakles to find out if the man was alright, but he did no such thing. A sucker punch like that might hurt, it might even bruise the bone, but the placement wasn’t going to kill.
He turned in time to see Fotios Leventi speaking to the Mikaelidas lords and then stepped out of the way as the boys passed him in order to get to their father. A glance toward Lord Leventi made him frown but he did no more than that. It was rude of himself to have imagined a smug smile on Leventi’s face.
This was too much to take in. He wanted to be somewhere quiet and alone so that he could sort out his own mind. Gavriil did not believe in making split second decisions like this one lightly. There was more evidence and, after all, the king hadn’t been allowed to defend himself. That made him feel a little better...but only a little. The loss of control on Stephanos’s part made him uncomfortably remember the conversation he’d had with Irakles regarding this very thing. If the king could lose such control this way...would he do it again?
But he’d been unfairly ganged up on...but it would not be unfair if he was the murderer. There were so many questions and too few answers. Making his way out of the senate, he moved through the assembled crowd, wishing very much to be away from so many people and so many eyes. A few women tugged on his clothes, asking for more details as to what had happened but he merely kept on his way, bound for his horse and from there, to his city home.
He wanted his library.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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It was pandemonium. Gavriil was up on his feet along with the rest of the lords. Along with a few others, he’d thought the evidence produced was extremely damning...if true. And, of course, he’d have been happy for the king to go on trial. After all, an innocent man had nothing to hide. This was the fairest, and best course of action.
Then Stephanos had dropped the Prince to the floor. Guards leapt into action, people were on their feet, shouts rang in his ears, the king was practically foaming at the mouth in rage, calling down the gods and who knew what else. This was all folly in the highest sense and he was wrapped up in the middle of this crowd with no real sense of where to go first.
Part of him wanted to go immediately to the palati and demand of Stephanos if he’d lost his mind. Another part wanted to rush toward Irakles to find out if the man was alright, but he did no such thing. A sucker punch like that might hurt, it might even bruise the bone, but the placement wasn’t going to kill.
He turned in time to see Fotios Leventi speaking to the Mikaelidas lords and then stepped out of the way as the boys passed him in order to get to their father. A glance toward Lord Leventi made him frown but he did no more than that. It was rude of himself to have imagined a smug smile on Leventi’s face.
This was too much to take in. He wanted to be somewhere quiet and alone so that he could sort out his own mind. Gavriil did not believe in making split second decisions like this one lightly. There was more evidence and, after all, the king hadn’t been allowed to defend himself. That made him feel a little better...but only a little. The loss of control on Stephanos’s part made him uncomfortably remember the conversation he’d had with Irakles regarding this very thing. If the king could lose such control this way...would he do it again?
But he’d been unfairly ganged up on...but it would not be unfair if he was the murderer. There were so many questions and too few answers. Making his way out of the senate, he moved through the assembled crowd, wishing very much to be away from so many people and so many eyes. A few women tugged on his clothes, asking for more details as to what had happened but he merely kept on his way, bound for his horse and from there, to his city home.
He wanted his library.
It was pandemonium. Gavriil was up on his feet along with the rest of the lords. Along with a few others, he’d thought the evidence produced was extremely damning...if true. And, of course, he’d have been happy for the king to go on trial. After all, an innocent man had nothing to hide. This was the fairest, and best course of action.
Then Stephanos had dropped the Prince to the floor. Guards leapt into action, people were on their feet, shouts rang in his ears, the king was practically foaming at the mouth in rage, calling down the gods and who knew what else. This was all folly in the highest sense and he was wrapped up in the middle of this crowd with no real sense of where to go first.
Part of him wanted to go immediately to the palati and demand of Stephanos if he’d lost his mind. Another part wanted to rush toward Irakles to find out if the man was alright, but he did no such thing. A sucker punch like that might hurt, it might even bruise the bone, but the placement wasn’t going to kill.
He turned in time to see Fotios Leventi speaking to the Mikaelidas lords and then stepped out of the way as the boys passed him in order to get to their father. A glance toward Lord Leventi made him frown but he did no more than that. It was rude of himself to have imagined a smug smile on Leventi’s face.
This was too much to take in. He wanted to be somewhere quiet and alone so that he could sort out his own mind. Gavriil did not believe in making split second decisions like this one lightly. There was more evidence and, after all, the king hadn’t been allowed to defend himself. That made him feel a little better...but only a little. The loss of control on Stephanos’s part made him uncomfortably remember the conversation he’d had with Irakles regarding this very thing. If the king could lose such control this way...would he do it again?
But he’d been unfairly ganged up on...but it would not be unfair if he was the murderer. There were so many questions and too few answers. Making his way out of the senate, he moved through the assembled crowd, wishing very much to be away from so many people and so many eyes. A few women tugged on his clothes, asking for more details as to what had happened but he merely kept on his way, bound for his horse and from there, to his city home.
He wanted his library.
The Senate meeting seemed to devolve further and further the longer that Xene stood beside her seated brother, holding to the arm of her younger sister. But she was not paying attention to their proximity any longer. No, her gaze was searching the face of each Senator and Master at the meeting, trying to gauge each one for a reaction. Surprise? Contemplation? Outright fury over utterly baseless accusations? Few yielded anything. Men were good at hiding their intentions. Their thoughts. Their goals.
Even a flick of her gaze toward Fotios of Leventi yielded nothing and it was only her uncle's furthering of the meeting with so-called "evidence" that brought her back to the discussion at hand. Xene fixed Irakles with a calculating gaze that reeked of distrust. She would not hide her disdain for her own uncle, her hand once more squeezing Gianna's hand as if she could tell that her sibling was struggling behind her. A very casual movement of her free hand to take hold of Gianna's arm and keep her steady on her feet was the only additional sign of affection and support that she gave in those moments.
The princess herself had scoured Zacharias' rooms long prior to the stated time of when this evidence was collected. Having been disgusted with the state of her late brother's chambers, Xene had taken it upon herself to tidy up, to search for clues, to find anything that could have told her what really happened to her eldest brother. She had found only letters. There had been no bloody clothing to find in Zacharias' room. Resting her blue gaze on the servant woman, Xene found herself observing everything about her. Xene liked to think herself knowledgable of more slaves and servants within the Palati. This girl's face was lost on her. Forgettable. A perfect individual to plant in order to further an accusation that held no truth behind it.
With each piece of evidence, Xene found it harder and harder to keep her own composure in front of the Senate. To think that the Mikaelidas tendency for harsh tempers had completely skipped the eldest princess was a falsity. Xene could snap just as easily as her brother. Her destroyed chambers after the deaths of her brother and father had been an exhibit of just that. Though those facts had been quickly hidden. Xene liked to think that no one knew just how quickly her mental state could shift and shatter her reality about her.
Xene was still a grieving daughter and sister. She had not taken proper steps to ensure that she would keep her mental faculties in the event that further harm came to their family. But the sentencing thrown at their feet, for Stephanos and Olympia, was enough to remind her that she was not well. That she was still voraciously angry with the world. And with each hand raised against her brother, Xene could feel her world twisting beneath her feet.
But Stephanos was on his feet in a move far faster than she could comprehend, streaking across the room and landing the blow to Irakles. Their uncle in name and blood, but in nothing else did they share commonalities. Absolutely nothing.
Xene forced herself to watch her brother being escorted from the meeting, her feet planted and her gaze never leaving his back. She gave no consideration to her Uncle despite how hard Stephanos had hit him. Her only course of action was to free herself from the entire situation. Forcing her hands off of her sister, Xene went so far as to bow to her younger sibling before turning on her heel and following the men who had already left out of the room.
She would not cast her gaze back.
Xene only allowed herself to stare at the back of her brother, the back of Fotios of Leventi, and away from the faces of everyone standing outside of the building. Heron caught up with her. Putting himself between her and people who tried to reach for her and ask the outcome of the meeting. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't do it. So much anger simmered under her skin that she couldn't look anyone in the eye... all hidden by a perfect mask of propriety and impassiveness.
Xene did not calm down even when the doors to her rooms were closed. And Heron did not move from in front of her door even when the sound of something shattering rang out down the hall of the Palati.
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The Senate meeting seemed to devolve further and further the longer that Xene stood beside her seated brother, holding to the arm of her younger sister. But she was not paying attention to their proximity any longer. No, her gaze was searching the face of each Senator and Master at the meeting, trying to gauge each one for a reaction. Surprise? Contemplation? Outright fury over utterly baseless accusations? Few yielded anything. Men were good at hiding their intentions. Their thoughts. Their goals.
Even a flick of her gaze toward Fotios of Leventi yielded nothing and it was only her uncle's furthering of the meeting with so-called "evidence" that brought her back to the discussion at hand. Xene fixed Irakles with a calculating gaze that reeked of distrust. She would not hide her disdain for her own uncle, her hand once more squeezing Gianna's hand as if she could tell that her sibling was struggling behind her. A very casual movement of her free hand to take hold of Gianna's arm and keep her steady on her feet was the only additional sign of affection and support that she gave in those moments.
The princess herself had scoured Zacharias' rooms long prior to the stated time of when this evidence was collected. Having been disgusted with the state of her late brother's chambers, Xene had taken it upon herself to tidy up, to search for clues, to find anything that could have told her what really happened to her eldest brother. She had found only letters. There had been no bloody clothing to find in Zacharias' room. Resting her blue gaze on the servant woman, Xene found herself observing everything about her. Xene liked to think herself knowledgable of more slaves and servants within the Palati. This girl's face was lost on her. Forgettable. A perfect individual to plant in order to further an accusation that held no truth behind it.
With each piece of evidence, Xene found it harder and harder to keep her own composure in front of the Senate. To think that the Mikaelidas tendency for harsh tempers had completely skipped the eldest princess was a falsity. Xene could snap just as easily as her brother. Her destroyed chambers after the deaths of her brother and father had been an exhibit of just that. Though those facts had been quickly hidden. Xene liked to think that no one knew just how quickly her mental state could shift and shatter her reality about her.
Xene was still a grieving daughter and sister. She had not taken proper steps to ensure that she would keep her mental faculties in the event that further harm came to their family. But the sentencing thrown at their feet, for Stephanos and Olympia, was enough to remind her that she was not well. That she was still voraciously angry with the world. And with each hand raised against her brother, Xene could feel her world twisting beneath her feet.
But Stephanos was on his feet in a move far faster than she could comprehend, streaking across the room and landing the blow to Irakles. Their uncle in name and blood, but in nothing else did they share commonalities. Absolutely nothing.
Xene forced herself to watch her brother being escorted from the meeting, her feet planted and her gaze never leaving his back. She gave no consideration to her Uncle despite how hard Stephanos had hit him. Her only course of action was to free herself from the entire situation. Forcing her hands off of her sister, Xene went so far as to bow to her younger sibling before turning on her heel and following the men who had already left out of the room.
She would not cast her gaze back.
Xene only allowed herself to stare at the back of her brother, the back of Fotios of Leventi, and away from the faces of everyone standing outside of the building. Heron caught up with her. Putting himself between her and people who tried to reach for her and ask the outcome of the meeting. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't do it. So much anger simmered under her skin that she couldn't look anyone in the eye... all hidden by a perfect mask of propriety and impassiveness.
Xene did not calm down even when the doors to her rooms were closed. And Heron did not move from in front of her door even when the sound of something shattering rang out down the hall of the Palati.
The Senate meeting seemed to devolve further and further the longer that Xene stood beside her seated brother, holding to the arm of her younger sister. But she was not paying attention to their proximity any longer. No, her gaze was searching the face of each Senator and Master at the meeting, trying to gauge each one for a reaction. Surprise? Contemplation? Outright fury over utterly baseless accusations? Few yielded anything. Men were good at hiding their intentions. Their thoughts. Their goals.
Even a flick of her gaze toward Fotios of Leventi yielded nothing and it was only her uncle's furthering of the meeting with so-called "evidence" that brought her back to the discussion at hand. Xene fixed Irakles with a calculating gaze that reeked of distrust. She would not hide her disdain for her own uncle, her hand once more squeezing Gianna's hand as if she could tell that her sibling was struggling behind her. A very casual movement of her free hand to take hold of Gianna's arm and keep her steady on her feet was the only additional sign of affection and support that she gave in those moments.
The princess herself had scoured Zacharias' rooms long prior to the stated time of when this evidence was collected. Having been disgusted with the state of her late brother's chambers, Xene had taken it upon herself to tidy up, to search for clues, to find anything that could have told her what really happened to her eldest brother. She had found only letters. There had been no bloody clothing to find in Zacharias' room. Resting her blue gaze on the servant woman, Xene found herself observing everything about her. Xene liked to think herself knowledgable of more slaves and servants within the Palati. This girl's face was lost on her. Forgettable. A perfect individual to plant in order to further an accusation that held no truth behind it.
With each piece of evidence, Xene found it harder and harder to keep her own composure in front of the Senate. To think that the Mikaelidas tendency for harsh tempers had completely skipped the eldest princess was a falsity. Xene could snap just as easily as her brother. Her destroyed chambers after the deaths of her brother and father had been an exhibit of just that. Though those facts had been quickly hidden. Xene liked to think that no one knew just how quickly her mental state could shift and shatter her reality about her.
Xene was still a grieving daughter and sister. She had not taken proper steps to ensure that she would keep her mental faculties in the event that further harm came to their family. But the sentencing thrown at their feet, for Stephanos and Olympia, was enough to remind her that she was not well. That she was still voraciously angry with the world. And with each hand raised against her brother, Xene could feel her world twisting beneath her feet.
But Stephanos was on his feet in a move far faster than she could comprehend, streaking across the room and landing the blow to Irakles. Their uncle in name and blood, but in nothing else did they share commonalities. Absolutely nothing.
Xene forced herself to watch her brother being escorted from the meeting, her feet planted and her gaze never leaving his back. She gave no consideration to her Uncle despite how hard Stephanos had hit him. Her only course of action was to free herself from the entire situation. Forcing her hands off of her sister, Xene went so far as to bow to her younger sibling before turning on her heel and following the men who had already left out of the room.
She would not cast her gaze back.
Xene only allowed herself to stare at the back of her brother, the back of Fotios of Leventi, and away from the faces of everyone standing outside of the building. Heron caught up with her. Putting himself between her and people who tried to reach for her and ask the outcome of the meeting. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't do it. So much anger simmered under her skin that she couldn't look anyone in the eye... all hidden by a perfect mask of propriety and impassiveness.
Xene did not calm down even when the doors to her rooms were closed. And Heron did not move from in front of her door even when the sound of something shattering rang out down the hall of the Palati.
Nikolias nodded, then risked a glance at his son, and Nikos nodded as well. "We are agreed, then, yes? The King and Queen are henceforth placed under house arrest until further notice."
When the fighting and punching broke out, Nikolias grit his teeth, but made no comment, though by the look on his face, it would probably be obvious that he questioned how wise it was for anybody- the King most especially included- to act like schoolboys during a Senate meeting. Did Taengea really need any more blood spilled... literally or figuratively? And in this case, the blood-spilling would be literal, though the possibility of it came from fighting, not murder. Ick.
He sighed, closing his eyes briefly and running his hand over his forehead to ease the sudden tension in his head.
Apollo help us all, he prayed. God of Light, please bring your favor back to Taengea. If we have committed any wrong in order for things to go as badly as they have lately, please forgive us.
He didn't know exactly what yet, but Nikolias would have sacrificed anything in order to make that happen.
His prayer made him feel better, though to pray had only cost him a few minutes. He wondered how long the investigation would take, but there was suddenly no doubt in his mind whatsoever that something even bigger than this day was probably in the near future.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Nikolias nodded, then risked a glance at his son, and Nikos nodded as well. "We are agreed, then, yes? The King and Queen are henceforth placed under house arrest until further notice."
When the fighting and punching broke out, Nikolias grit his teeth, but made no comment, though by the look on his face, it would probably be obvious that he questioned how wise it was for anybody- the King most especially included- to act like schoolboys during a Senate meeting. Did Taengea really need any more blood spilled... literally or figuratively? And in this case, the blood-spilling would be literal, though the possibility of it came from fighting, not murder. Ick.
He sighed, closing his eyes briefly and running his hand over his forehead to ease the sudden tension in his head.
Apollo help us all, he prayed. God of Light, please bring your favor back to Taengea. If we have committed any wrong in order for things to go as badly as they have lately, please forgive us.
He didn't know exactly what yet, but Nikolias would have sacrificed anything in order to make that happen.
His prayer made him feel better, though to pray had only cost him a few minutes. He wondered how long the investigation would take, but there was suddenly no doubt in his mind whatsoever that something even bigger than this day was probably in the near future.
Nikolias nodded, then risked a glance at his son, and Nikos nodded as well. "We are agreed, then, yes? The King and Queen are henceforth placed under house arrest until further notice."
When the fighting and punching broke out, Nikolias grit his teeth, but made no comment, though by the look on his face, it would probably be obvious that he questioned how wise it was for anybody- the King most especially included- to act like schoolboys during a Senate meeting. Did Taengea really need any more blood spilled... literally or figuratively? And in this case, the blood-spilling would be literal, though the possibility of it came from fighting, not murder. Ick.
He sighed, closing his eyes briefly and running his hand over his forehead to ease the sudden tension in his head.
Apollo help us all, he prayed. God of Light, please bring your favor back to Taengea. If we have committed any wrong in order for things to go as badly as they have lately, please forgive us.
He didn't know exactly what yet, but Nikolias would have sacrificed anything in order to make that happen.
His prayer made him feel better, though to pray had only cost him a few minutes. He wondered how long the investigation would take, but there was suddenly no doubt in his mind whatsoever that something even bigger than this day was probably in the near future.
