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He was late, and he so hated to be late. There had been word from Euttica though, and Achilleas had found himself delayed in penning a missive to send back. Everyone was unsettled and seeking reassurance, and he had little to offer them. It had been a shock, and the ripples were still being felt like tremors underfoot. He sighed then, for much as he was loathe to neglect his barony -and his mother - it seemed wise to stay close to home in the shadow of all that gone before. Sure enough, his father had sent summons for his presence that very evening, a fact that simultaneously dismayed and pleased the Lord Mikaelidas.
Dismayed because Irakles did not request his presence unless he wanted something, and so Achilleas was already trying to second guess what the man’s motivations could be this time. He should not be surprised that his father would be trying to capitalise on the chaos that been wrought by the deaths of his uncle and cousin, for he was not so naive as to think the man would be waiting for their bodies to cool even. No, he would want to use the uncertainty to further his own cause. ‘You must strike while the iron is hot’ . He could hear it now. Achilleas accepted the reins of his horse from the slave boy and swung lightly astride, frowning as he pondered what , exactly, Irakles’ angle would be. This time.
In spite of this wariness, it was hard to change the habit of a lifetime, and so of course he would run to his father’s call. An audience was another opportunity to prove his worth, to demonstrate his capability and assert himself, and somewhere, he still felt he should be glad of that. At least with Irakles ensconced at the palace, he would not have to endure Meena Achilleas thought uncharitably,as he urged the horse forward.
There were still the last whispers of summer clinging to the breeze, though the heat had died off, and he knew that in Euttica, hands would be busy with harvest. Here though, in Vasiliadon, he chanced more rested uneasily upon the hilt of blades in the wake of such upset. Or sought to pull strings, like those that beckoned him to dinner this night.
It was not far to the palace, a small mercy, but he was a little flustered at his lateness by the time he arrived and was shown in. With a snap of his hand, he bid the servant to wait as he stopped to adjust his raiment, and to steel himself for what lay ahead. Achilleas barely managed to avoid shaking his head at his reflection as it stared back at him. Here was a man who commanded armies and won the blessings of Gods, and yet he still let his father stir his nerves.
With an arch of a dark brow, Achilleas dismissed the thought and his reflection, and without further delay, he nodded for the servant to announce him.
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He was late, and he so hated to be late. There had been word from Euttica though, and Achilleas had found himself delayed in penning a missive to send back. Everyone was unsettled and seeking reassurance, and he had little to offer them. It had been a shock, and the ripples were still being felt like tremors underfoot. He sighed then, for much as he was loathe to neglect his barony -and his mother - it seemed wise to stay close to home in the shadow of all that gone before. Sure enough, his father had sent summons for his presence that very evening, a fact that simultaneously dismayed and pleased the Lord Mikaelidas.
Dismayed because Irakles did not request his presence unless he wanted something, and so Achilleas was already trying to second guess what the man’s motivations could be this time. He should not be surprised that his father would be trying to capitalise on the chaos that been wrought by the deaths of his uncle and cousin, for he was not so naive as to think the man would be waiting for their bodies to cool even. No, he would want to use the uncertainty to further his own cause. ‘You must strike while the iron is hot’ . He could hear it now. Achilleas accepted the reins of his horse from the slave boy and swung lightly astride, frowning as he pondered what , exactly, Irakles’ angle would be. This time.
In spite of this wariness, it was hard to change the habit of a lifetime, and so of course he would run to his father’s call. An audience was another opportunity to prove his worth, to demonstrate his capability and assert himself, and somewhere, he still felt he should be glad of that. At least with Irakles ensconced at the palace, he would not have to endure Meena Achilleas thought uncharitably,as he urged the horse forward.
There were still the last whispers of summer clinging to the breeze, though the heat had died off, and he knew that in Euttica, hands would be busy with harvest. Here though, in Vasiliadon, he chanced more rested uneasily upon the hilt of blades in the wake of such upset. Or sought to pull strings, like those that beckoned him to dinner this night.
It was not far to the palace, a small mercy, but he was a little flustered at his lateness by the time he arrived and was shown in. With a snap of his hand, he bid the servant to wait as he stopped to adjust his raiment, and to steel himself for what lay ahead. Achilleas barely managed to avoid shaking his head at his reflection as it stared back at him. Here was a man who commanded armies and won the blessings of Gods, and yet he still let his father stir his nerves.
With an arch of a dark brow, Achilleas dismissed the thought and his reflection, and without further delay, he nodded for the servant to announce him.
He was late, and he so hated to be late. There had been word from Euttica though, and Achilleas had found himself delayed in penning a missive to send back. Everyone was unsettled and seeking reassurance, and he had little to offer them. It had been a shock, and the ripples were still being felt like tremors underfoot. He sighed then, for much as he was loathe to neglect his barony -and his mother - it seemed wise to stay close to home in the shadow of all that gone before. Sure enough, his father had sent summons for his presence that very evening, a fact that simultaneously dismayed and pleased the Lord Mikaelidas.
Dismayed because Irakles did not request his presence unless he wanted something, and so Achilleas was already trying to second guess what the man’s motivations could be this time. He should not be surprised that his father would be trying to capitalise on the chaos that been wrought by the deaths of his uncle and cousin, for he was not so naive as to think the man would be waiting for their bodies to cool even. No, he would want to use the uncertainty to further his own cause. ‘You must strike while the iron is hot’ . He could hear it now. Achilleas accepted the reins of his horse from the slave boy and swung lightly astride, frowning as he pondered what , exactly, Irakles’ angle would be. This time.
In spite of this wariness, it was hard to change the habit of a lifetime, and so of course he would run to his father’s call. An audience was another opportunity to prove his worth, to demonstrate his capability and assert himself, and somewhere, he still felt he should be glad of that. At least with Irakles ensconced at the palace, he would not have to endure Meena Achilleas thought uncharitably,as he urged the horse forward.
There were still the last whispers of summer clinging to the breeze, though the heat had died off, and he knew that in Euttica, hands would be busy with harvest. Here though, in Vasiliadon, he chanced more rested uneasily upon the hilt of blades in the wake of such upset. Or sought to pull strings, like those that beckoned him to dinner this night.
It was not far to the palace, a small mercy, but he was a little flustered at his lateness by the time he arrived and was shown in. With a snap of his hand, he bid the servant to wait as he stopped to adjust his raiment, and to steel himself for what lay ahead. Achilleas barely managed to avoid shaking his head at his reflection as it stared back at him. Here was a man who commanded armies and won the blessings of Gods, and yet he still let his father stir his nerves.
With an arch of a dark brow, Achilleas dismissed the thought and his reflection, and without further delay, he nodded for the servant to announce him.
The palati may not have been an ideal places to hold a meet with his eldest son, but Irakles had to multitask, and it was quicker when all his tasks were in a single place. The prince was not one who was direct with his words afterall, so when he had summoned Achilleas to meet him, Irakles had carefully calculated his time, making sure it would take place at a time where the Queen Mother would be taking her afternoon siesta, and had Ujarak out to ensure no one else would cross the doors as he met his son in his study.
Having spent the morning at the Mikaelidas mansion going through some important documents and meeting with his mistress, he had just returned to the palati a little past the afternoon meal, choosing to wipe himself down with a damp cloth before changing into a fresh chiton. The summer heat was dissipating, something that the retired general was eternally grateful of, even if he did not look forward to the chill bite of autumn and winter. To him, it was spring that he enjoyed most, a season that had new life, birth, and a perfect weather to go with it.
Eschewing his crown - for he was not slated to meet anyone else for now, it was a simple white chiton that Achilleas would see him in, as he sat behind his grand oaken table in his study. Behind him, an open window allowed a gentle breeze to take the stuffiness out of the room. A pitcher of chilled kykeon, the combination of barley gruel, wine and goat cheese making it a gentle yet refreshing drink going down the throat, perfect for the scorching summer Taengea was having.
With hair that needed a trim soon falling over his eyes as he worked on the recent tax amendments proposed by his nephew - of which he carefully scrutinized, the gentle knock on his door made him look up, and a firm nod was given to allow his son entrance into his study, where the man was quick to gesture at his firstborn to take a seat in a tall-backed chair facing his own desk. Achilleas was late, but Irakles had greater matters to discuss today.
Saying nothing as a servant hurried to pour out the kykeon to both father and son, it wasn't till the maid left, did Irakles finally leaned back in his seat, giving Achilleas a studying gaze, as if wordlessly telling his son being tardy was not something he tolerated, but would let slide for now, before finally relaxing his shoulders as he asked.
"I am assuming preparations for your wedding are underway, Achilleas? It is to take place very soon, after the next Senate meet, and I will no longer have any delays in such matters." The marriage between his son and the Leventi daughter was one he greatly heralded, for the Leventi family was of great royal blood. The delay between the event, while necessary, was not something he wanted to repeat itself, and he had measures placed to ensure it would not happen again.
Of course, his youngest son was not happy about it, but he trusted Emilios to conduct himself well when it came to the marriage and future of the Mikaelidas heir.
Taking a swig of the cooling drink, the bronze chalice was replaced on the wooden surface, and the man was a picture of calm yet firm in terms of wanting his expectations fulfilled. He had been painstaking in his plans, ensuring he met with most barons who would have a vote to sway the Senate meet taking place in a few days. His son was one of the last few he would meet... and he intended this to go well. Or at least, for it to go his way.
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The palati may not have been an ideal places to hold a meet with his eldest son, but Irakles had to multitask, and it was quicker when all his tasks were in a single place. The prince was not one who was direct with his words afterall, so when he had summoned Achilleas to meet him, Irakles had carefully calculated his time, making sure it would take place at a time where the Queen Mother would be taking her afternoon siesta, and had Ujarak out to ensure no one else would cross the doors as he met his son in his study.
Having spent the morning at the Mikaelidas mansion going through some important documents and meeting with his mistress, he had just returned to the palati a little past the afternoon meal, choosing to wipe himself down with a damp cloth before changing into a fresh chiton. The summer heat was dissipating, something that the retired general was eternally grateful of, even if he did not look forward to the chill bite of autumn and winter. To him, it was spring that he enjoyed most, a season that had new life, birth, and a perfect weather to go with it.
Eschewing his crown - for he was not slated to meet anyone else for now, it was a simple white chiton that Achilleas would see him in, as he sat behind his grand oaken table in his study. Behind him, an open window allowed a gentle breeze to take the stuffiness out of the room. A pitcher of chilled kykeon, the combination of barley gruel, wine and goat cheese making it a gentle yet refreshing drink going down the throat, perfect for the scorching summer Taengea was having.
With hair that needed a trim soon falling over his eyes as he worked on the recent tax amendments proposed by his nephew - of which he carefully scrutinized, the gentle knock on his door made him look up, and a firm nod was given to allow his son entrance into his study, where the man was quick to gesture at his firstborn to take a seat in a tall-backed chair facing his own desk. Achilleas was late, but Irakles had greater matters to discuss today.
Saying nothing as a servant hurried to pour out the kykeon to both father and son, it wasn't till the maid left, did Irakles finally leaned back in his seat, giving Achilleas a studying gaze, as if wordlessly telling his son being tardy was not something he tolerated, but would let slide for now, before finally relaxing his shoulders as he asked.
"I am assuming preparations for your wedding are underway, Achilleas? It is to take place very soon, after the next Senate meet, and I will no longer have any delays in such matters." The marriage between his son and the Leventi daughter was one he greatly heralded, for the Leventi family was of great royal blood. The delay between the event, while necessary, was not something he wanted to repeat itself, and he had measures placed to ensure it would not happen again.
Of course, his youngest son was not happy about it, but he trusted Emilios to conduct himself well when it came to the marriage and future of the Mikaelidas heir.
Taking a swig of the cooling drink, the bronze chalice was replaced on the wooden surface, and the man was a picture of calm yet firm in terms of wanting his expectations fulfilled. He had been painstaking in his plans, ensuring he met with most barons who would have a vote to sway the Senate meet taking place in a few days. His son was one of the last few he would meet... and he intended this to go well. Or at least, for it to go his way.
The palati may not have been an ideal places to hold a meet with his eldest son, but Irakles had to multitask, and it was quicker when all his tasks were in a single place. The prince was not one who was direct with his words afterall, so when he had summoned Achilleas to meet him, Irakles had carefully calculated his time, making sure it would take place at a time where the Queen Mother would be taking her afternoon siesta, and had Ujarak out to ensure no one else would cross the doors as he met his son in his study.
Having spent the morning at the Mikaelidas mansion going through some important documents and meeting with his mistress, he had just returned to the palati a little past the afternoon meal, choosing to wipe himself down with a damp cloth before changing into a fresh chiton. The summer heat was dissipating, something that the retired general was eternally grateful of, even if he did not look forward to the chill bite of autumn and winter. To him, it was spring that he enjoyed most, a season that had new life, birth, and a perfect weather to go with it.
Eschewing his crown - for he was not slated to meet anyone else for now, it was a simple white chiton that Achilleas would see him in, as he sat behind his grand oaken table in his study. Behind him, an open window allowed a gentle breeze to take the stuffiness out of the room. A pitcher of chilled kykeon, the combination of barley gruel, wine and goat cheese making it a gentle yet refreshing drink going down the throat, perfect for the scorching summer Taengea was having.
With hair that needed a trim soon falling over his eyes as he worked on the recent tax amendments proposed by his nephew - of which he carefully scrutinized, the gentle knock on his door made him look up, and a firm nod was given to allow his son entrance into his study, where the man was quick to gesture at his firstborn to take a seat in a tall-backed chair facing his own desk. Achilleas was late, but Irakles had greater matters to discuss today.
Saying nothing as a servant hurried to pour out the kykeon to both father and son, it wasn't till the maid left, did Irakles finally leaned back in his seat, giving Achilleas a studying gaze, as if wordlessly telling his son being tardy was not something he tolerated, but would let slide for now, before finally relaxing his shoulders as he asked.
"I am assuming preparations for your wedding are underway, Achilleas? It is to take place very soon, after the next Senate meet, and I will no longer have any delays in such matters." The marriage between his son and the Leventi daughter was one he greatly heralded, for the Leventi family was of great royal blood. The delay between the event, while necessary, was not something he wanted to repeat itself, and he had measures placed to ensure it would not happen again.
Of course, his youngest son was not happy about it, but he trusted Emilios to conduct himself well when it came to the marriage and future of the Mikaelidas heir.
Taking a swig of the cooling drink, the bronze chalice was replaced on the wooden surface, and the man was a picture of calm yet firm in terms of wanting his expectations fulfilled. He had been painstaking in his plans, ensuring he met with most barons who would have a vote to sway the Senate meet taking place in a few days. His son was one of the last few he would meet... and he intended this to go well. Or at least, for it to go his way.
His father did not speak as he entered the room, but rather waved an imperious hand for his son to take a seat before the great table he himself was sat behind. Achilleas thought it a deliberate ploy, as if to make it abundantly clear from the offset that whatever conversation was to be had would be had on his terms and in his time. Long used to it, the commander in him had employed the tactic himself upon occasion.
And so he sat, straight backed, his hands clasped lightly and resting upon his lap as Achilleas waited patiently for Irakles to see fit to begin. He spared the serving girl a small nod of thanks, but made no move yet to take the goblet of kykeon. He made no move at all, still as a statue until finally his father rested a wordless gaze upon him that left Achilleas in no doubt that his tardiness has been noted and was not approved of. He stifled the sigh that wanted to make itself known and did not bother to try and explain. Had the Gods themselves planted themselves in his way , he doubted his father would have seen it excuse not keeping to an appointment he had arranged. He would bear the silent disapproval as he always did.
There was no greeting then either, Irakles immediately launching into conversation, and for this subject, his son was suitably prepared. He had thought it might come up, and so with the practiced ease of one used to offering reassurances, he spoke.
“It is all in hand. I have not been close to the details of course, but I understand the import, and it shall not be delayed.”
Outwardly, he projected the absolute confidence in his words, but Achilleas made note of the flicker of worry he felt push at that public face. Reaching forwards, he lifted his cup and took a sip of kykeon to buy himself a little thinking time.
In truth, Theodora had proven mighty elusive in recent days, and he was not entirely sure where preparations had gotten to. It was understandable, he told himself, with all that had happened and her sister being with child. There was a lot going on. But Achilleas resolved that he must speak with her, or her Father to ensure the words he had just spoken were true. Not just to satisfy his Father’s agenda, but because he wanted this, wanted her, and what was the sense in stalling? He could still feel the promise of that kiss he had stolen before he had departed to deal with The Creed. It had seemed then she wanted their union as much as he, and he knew of nothing that had changed.
He tilted the goblet in his hand, watched as the liquid within rolled towards the edge and then looked back up to Irakles, brows raised in question. "Did you call me to here speak of flowers and wedding feasts though, Father? Or is there more on your mind?”
They differed in that way. Achilleas was direct, whereas his Father wrapped his meaning in words that spoke around the subject. He hated it at times, trying to second guess whatever veiled instruction he was being given, trying to avoid missing whatever the crux of it was so it could not be thrown back in his face later as something he had failed to do. And though his father usually kept him close in his schemings, he was never blasé about what was imparted to him
It had been a little awkward of late though, for Irakles made no secret of his dissatisfaction with Stephanos on the throne, and Achilleas had heard whispers that the discord between nephew and Uncle was growing. He hoped that was not the reason for this impromptu chat. He held his cousin in some affection, despite the fact that -like his own brother- Stephanos embraced the laissez faire outlook so easily worn by second sons, not held to the same standard as their first born siblings. And the deaths of Zenon and Zacharias had been so unexpected, so brutal that Achilleas found it difficult to criticise the man for anything he had done in this brief interim. Death was no stranger to him, of course, he was a soldier, his hands carried invisible bloodstains that would not wash away. But that did not make a person impervious to grief when came it calling, and none would feel its burden more that Stephanos.
Still, there was something else behind his Father’s summons, and Achilleas knew Irakles would not be affected by such trifling a thing as loss.
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His father did not speak as he entered the room, but rather waved an imperious hand for his son to take a seat before the great table he himself was sat behind. Achilleas thought it a deliberate ploy, as if to make it abundantly clear from the offset that whatever conversation was to be had would be had on his terms and in his time. Long used to it, the commander in him had employed the tactic himself upon occasion.
And so he sat, straight backed, his hands clasped lightly and resting upon his lap as Achilleas waited patiently for Irakles to see fit to begin. He spared the serving girl a small nod of thanks, but made no move yet to take the goblet of kykeon. He made no move at all, still as a statue until finally his father rested a wordless gaze upon him that left Achilleas in no doubt that his tardiness has been noted and was not approved of. He stifled the sigh that wanted to make itself known and did not bother to try and explain. Had the Gods themselves planted themselves in his way , he doubted his father would have seen it excuse not keeping to an appointment he had arranged. He would bear the silent disapproval as he always did.
There was no greeting then either, Irakles immediately launching into conversation, and for this subject, his son was suitably prepared. He had thought it might come up, and so with the practiced ease of one used to offering reassurances, he spoke.
“It is all in hand. I have not been close to the details of course, but I understand the import, and it shall not be delayed.”
Outwardly, he projected the absolute confidence in his words, but Achilleas made note of the flicker of worry he felt push at that public face. Reaching forwards, he lifted his cup and took a sip of kykeon to buy himself a little thinking time.
In truth, Theodora had proven mighty elusive in recent days, and he was not entirely sure where preparations had gotten to. It was understandable, he told himself, with all that had happened and her sister being with child. There was a lot going on. But Achilleas resolved that he must speak with her, or her Father to ensure the words he had just spoken were true. Not just to satisfy his Father’s agenda, but because he wanted this, wanted her, and what was the sense in stalling? He could still feel the promise of that kiss he had stolen before he had departed to deal with The Creed. It had seemed then she wanted their union as much as he, and he knew of nothing that had changed.
He tilted the goblet in his hand, watched as the liquid within rolled towards the edge and then looked back up to Irakles, brows raised in question. "Did you call me to here speak of flowers and wedding feasts though, Father? Or is there more on your mind?”
They differed in that way. Achilleas was direct, whereas his Father wrapped his meaning in words that spoke around the subject. He hated it at times, trying to second guess whatever veiled instruction he was being given, trying to avoid missing whatever the crux of it was so it could not be thrown back in his face later as something he had failed to do. And though his father usually kept him close in his schemings, he was never blasé about what was imparted to him
It had been a little awkward of late though, for Irakles made no secret of his dissatisfaction with Stephanos on the throne, and Achilleas had heard whispers that the discord between nephew and Uncle was growing. He hoped that was not the reason for this impromptu chat. He held his cousin in some affection, despite the fact that -like his own brother- Stephanos embraced the laissez faire outlook so easily worn by second sons, not held to the same standard as their first born siblings. And the deaths of Zenon and Zacharias had been so unexpected, so brutal that Achilleas found it difficult to criticise the man for anything he had done in this brief interim. Death was no stranger to him, of course, he was a soldier, his hands carried invisible bloodstains that would not wash away. But that did not make a person impervious to grief when came it calling, and none would feel its burden more that Stephanos.
Still, there was something else behind his Father’s summons, and Achilleas knew Irakles would not be affected by such trifling a thing as loss.
His father did not speak as he entered the room, but rather waved an imperious hand for his son to take a seat before the great table he himself was sat behind. Achilleas thought it a deliberate ploy, as if to make it abundantly clear from the offset that whatever conversation was to be had would be had on his terms and in his time. Long used to it, the commander in him had employed the tactic himself upon occasion.
And so he sat, straight backed, his hands clasped lightly and resting upon his lap as Achilleas waited patiently for Irakles to see fit to begin. He spared the serving girl a small nod of thanks, but made no move yet to take the goblet of kykeon. He made no move at all, still as a statue until finally his father rested a wordless gaze upon him that left Achilleas in no doubt that his tardiness has been noted and was not approved of. He stifled the sigh that wanted to make itself known and did not bother to try and explain. Had the Gods themselves planted themselves in his way , he doubted his father would have seen it excuse not keeping to an appointment he had arranged. He would bear the silent disapproval as he always did.
There was no greeting then either, Irakles immediately launching into conversation, and for this subject, his son was suitably prepared. He had thought it might come up, and so with the practiced ease of one used to offering reassurances, he spoke.
“It is all in hand. I have not been close to the details of course, but I understand the import, and it shall not be delayed.”
Outwardly, he projected the absolute confidence in his words, but Achilleas made note of the flicker of worry he felt push at that public face. Reaching forwards, he lifted his cup and took a sip of kykeon to buy himself a little thinking time.
In truth, Theodora had proven mighty elusive in recent days, and he was not entirely sure where preparations had gotten to. It was understandable, he told himself, with all that had happened and her sister being with child. There was a lot going on. But Achilleas resolved that he must speak with her, or her Father to ensure the words he had just spoken were true. Not just to satisfy his Father’s agenda, but because he wanted this, wanted her, and what was the sense in stalling? He could still feel the promise of that kiss he had stolen before he had departed to deal with The Creed. It had seemed then she wanted their union as much as he, and he knew of nothing that had changed.
He tilted the goblet in his hand, watched as the liquid within rolled towards the edge and then looked back up to Irakles, brows raised in question. "Did you call me to here speak of flowers and wedding feasts though, Father? Or is there more on your mind?”
They differed in that way. Achilleas was direct, whereas his Father wrapped his meaning in words that spoke around the subject. He hated it at times, trying to second guess whatever veiled instruction he was being given, trying to avoid missing whatever the crux of it was so it could not be thrown back in his face later as something he had failed to do. And though his father usually kept him close in his schemings, he was never blasé about what was imparted to him
It had been a little awkward of late though, for Irakles made no secret of his dissatisfaction with Stephanos on the throne, and Achilleas had heard whispers that the discord between nephew and Uncle was growing. He hoped that was not the reason for this impromptu chat. He held his cousin in some affection, despite the fact that -like his own brother- Stephanos embraced the laissez faire outlook so easily worn by second sons, not held to the same standard as their first born siblings. And the deaths of Zenon and Zacharias had been so unexpected, so brutal that Achilleas found it difficult to criticise the man for anything he had done in this brief interim. Death was no stranger to him, of course, he was a soldier, his hands carried invisible bloodstains that would not wash away. But that did not make a person impervious to grief when came it calling, and none would feel its burden more that Stephanos.
Still, there was something else behind his Father’s summons, and Achilleas knew Irakles would not be affected by such trifling a thing as loss.
In the many years Irakles had to spend at court, the first half of his life consisting of him living in the palace, before his brother became King and he subsequently moved to the family manor, he had learned to perfect the veneer of absolute calm and serenity. His facade rarely showed people what he felt or what was upcoming in a conversation he orchestrated, and the retired general wanted it to be exactly that. In a court - in his position, really, where he could never know who was out to get him, he always had to keep an eye on his back.
His hands unconsciously rubbed his chest, the old man suspecting the change in weather of late affecting his health, Irakles merely had kept his gaze on his son as Achilleas launched into explanations of the preparations. Of course, he had not been absent in the planning. As a father to the groom, Irakles had been in close conversation with the mother to the bride, and the two had been conversing via missives through the servants in regards to the details for the combining of their families. Having already been delayed once, Irakles did not want history to repeat itself.
Steepling his hands on his lap as his son continued to speak, the man eventually raised a brow when Achilleas seemed to catch on something further. Of course, his son was of his loins, so Irakles was not surprised at the man's capability on at least guessing what a meet was for. While the wedding was important, there was something else closer that loomed, which was equally, if not more important in the grand scheme of the retired general's plans, and Achilleas played a role in it, small as it may be.
A semi-smile found its way to the prince's lips, a dry chuckle as he leaned forward to take a swig of his kykeon again, before continuing. "Astute, son." his low rumbling voice murmured, before his gaze travelled to rest on Achilleas, unwavering as he spoke. "You will be in attendance at the Senate meet, would you not?" He allowed Achilleas to answer, before shifting up in his seat, muffling a cough behind his palms before continuing.
"There will be matters tabled at this Senate meet which would be fairly important to the future of Taengea, and I expect you to think and decide on what is best for the kingdom." At this point, Irakles used a more serious tone as he perched his elbows on the table towards Achilleas. He was not about to go in to details, but he sincerely hoped Achilleas had the level-head to consider how laissez-faire Stephanos was, and that he was not suited to lead a kingdom, when the young, new King never even had a barony to begin with. If anything, Achilleas was of more capability, since he had been granted his barony to get used to a position of leadership since he was of age. Stephanos was green, untrained, and it was obvious in the number of times that Irakles had to assist ever since the death of his half-brother and previous crown prince. The very fact that he now resided in the palati to assist in decision-making was proof enough.
"We have come too far, and Taengea needs a stable leader to ensure she gets the glory befitting for our kingdom. I'm sure you agree, son?"
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In the many years Irakles had to spend at court, the first half of his life consisting of him living in the palace, before his brother became King and he subsequently moved to the family manor, he had learned to perfect the veneer of absolute calm and serenity. His facade rarely showed people what he felt or what was upcoming in a conversation he orchestrated, and the retired general wanted it to be exactly that. In a court - in his position, really, where he could never know who was out to get him, he always had to keep an eye on his back.
His hands unconsciously rubbed his chest, the old man suspecting the change in weather of late affecting his health, Irakles merely had kept his gaze on his son as Achilleas launched into explanations of the preparations. Of course, he had not been absent in the planning. As a father to the groom, Irakles had been in close conversation with the mother to the bride, and the two had been conversing via missives through the servants in regards to the details for the combining of their families. Having already been delayed once, Irakles did not want history to repeat itself.
Steepling his hands on his lap as his son continued to speak, the man eventually raised a brow when Achilleas seemed to catch on something further. Of course, his son was of his loins, so Irakles was not surprised at the man's capability on at least guessing what a meet was for. While the wedding was important, there was something else closer that loomed, which was equally, if not more important in the grand scheme of the retired general's plans, and Achilleas played a role in it, small as it may be.
A semi-smile found its way to the prince's lips, a dry chuckle as he leaned forward to take a swig of his kykeon again, before continuing. "Astute, son." his low rumbling voice murmured, before his gaze travelled to rest on Achilleas, unwavering as he spoke. "You will be in attendance at the Senate meet, would you not?" He allowed Achilleas to answer, before shifting up in his seat, muffling a cough behind his palms before continuing.
"There will be matters tabled at this Senate meet which would be fairly important to the future of Taengea, and I expect you to think and decide on what is best for the kingdom." At this point, Irakles used a more serious tone as he perched his elbows on the table towards Achilleas. He was not about to go in to details, but he sincerely hoped Achilleas had the level-head to consider how laissez-faire Stephanos was, and that he was not suited to lead a kingdom, when the young, new King never even had a barony to begin with. If anything, Achilleas was of more capability, since he had been granted his barony to get used to a position of leadership since he was of age. Stephanos was green, untrained, and it was obvious in the number of times that Irakles had to assist ever since the death of his half-brother and previous crown prince. The very fact that he now resided in the palati to assist in decision-making was proof enough.
"We have come too far, and Taengea needs a stable leader to ensure she gets the glory befitting for our kingdom. I'm sure you agree, son?"
In the many years Irakles had to spend at court, the first half of his life consisting of him living in the palace, before his brother became King and he subsequently moved to the family manor, he had learned to perfect the veneer of absolute calm and serenity. His facade rarely showed people what he felt or what was upcoming in a conversation he orchestrated, and the retired general wanted it to be exactly that. In a court - in his position, really, where he could never know who was out to get him, he always had to keep an eye on his back.
His hands unconsciously rubbed his chest, the old man suspecting the change in weather of late affecting his health, Irakles merely had kept his gaze on his son as Achilleas launched into explanations of the preparations. Of course, he had not been absent in the planning. As a father to the groom, Irakles had been in close conversation with the mother to the bride, and the two had been conversing via missives through the servants in regards to the details for the combining of their families. Having already been delayed once, Irakles did not want history to repeat itself.
Steepling his hands on his lap as his son continued to speak, the man eventually raised a brow when Achilleas seemed to catch on something further. Of course, his son was of his loins, so Irakles was not surprised at the man's capability on at least guessing what a meet was for. While the wedding was important, there was something else closer that loomed, which was equally, if not more important in the grand scheme of the retired general's plans, and Achilleas played a role in it, small as it may be.
A semi-smile found its way to the prince's lips, a dry chuckle as he leaned forward to take a swig of his kykeon again, before continuing. "Astute, son." his low rumbling voice murmured, before his gaze travelled to rest on Achilleas, unwavering as he spoke. "You will be in attendance at the Senate meet, would you not?" He allowed Achilleas to answer, before shifting up in his seat, muffling a cough behind his palms before continuing.
"There will be matters tabled at this Senate meet which would be fairly important to the future of Taengea, and I expect you to think and decide on what is best for the kingdom." At this point, Irakles used a more serious tone as he perched his elbows on the table towards Achilleas. He was not about to go in to details, but he sincerely hoped Achilleas had the level-head to consider how laissez-faire Stephanos was, and that he was not suited to lead a kingdom, when the young, new King never even had a barony to begin with. If anything, Achilleas was of more capability, since he had been granted his barony to get used to a position of leadership since he was of age. Stephanos was green, untrained, and it was obvious in the number of times that Irakles had to assist ever since the death of his half-brother and previous crown prince. The very fact that he now resided in the palati to assist in decision-making was proof enough.
"We have come too far, and Taengea needs a stable leader to ensure she gets the glory befitting for our kingdom. I'm sure you agree, son?"
Achilleas could tell he wasn’t sharing anything new with his Father. Likely the man knew more of the his own wedding than he could claim to, a fact that chafed at him as he spoke. Impassive as Irakles may have remained, his son did not miss the manner in which the elder rubbed at his chest, frowning a little as he went on to push for the real reason he had been summoned.
There was a wry look at the acknowledgement that followed, Achilleas wondering if the man opposite him would ever credit with him with the acuity that everyone else seemed able to do. Irakles had bred no fool, and though Achilleas could acknowledge that his name and family had served to pave his way sometimes, he thought perhaps his father thought it all his own doing and that his eldest child had done nothing of note along the way.
A short nod was all the reply to the question his father posed, Achilleas’ head tilting back slightly as Irakles coughed, as the son wondered as to this..frailty he was not used to seeing. But he had little time to think on it, for the words that followed bore closer scrutiny, and Achilleas set down his chalice, sat back and surveyed his father, his gaze narrowed and shrewd.
“Do I not always?” he said lightly, though there was a tension in his features that belied the annoyance he felt at the fact his father thought he needed reminding of his duty in such a way. “ I have been on the council for years enough now that such words seem unnecessary, Father.”
But Irakles had not finished, and as he listened the younger of the two Mikaelidas men let his gaze fall away, blew out a gust of air in a huff through his nose. A familiar sort of resignation set in.
'I’m sure you agree son' translated quite simply into You will agree, son.
And the fact that Irakles had seen the matter warranted a forewarning, a conversation such as the one they were having then was all the knowledge Achilleas needed to decide it would surely be something he would not agree with. He had a horrible feeling that he could predict the leaning of ‘matters that would be tabled’ and when he raised his eyes back up to look at his father, there was a guarded expression there, and he spoke carefully.
“ Of course. After such turbulence we have seen of late, the people need constancy...a stable rule. It is a blessing then, that our new Queen is with child, and that there is an heir on the way.”
He knew of course that was not the stability that his father was angling for. His father who craved power over all else, who had been relegated to the man at the shoulder of the King and denied his own desire to rule all his long life. He would have only one proposal for the best for Taengea. And however the Prince saw such a thing coming to pass, Achilleas could only think that he had sworn fealty to Stephanos, and he liked to think his loyalty meant something when he offered it.
Irakles could take his words as cautious ones, given where they were and the possibility of eyes and ears upon them. Or he could take them as the small rebellion they were. It would make no difference, he would still expect that Achilleas defer to his word and rule, and not for the first time, his son felt the weight of that.
“I am sure you will find many like minds amongst the barons...” he voiced, a subtle way of enquiring as to whether his father had been working already to secure confidence in whatever his scheme was. It would depend, of course, of his fathers confidence in him whether he would get a true answer or not.
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Achilleas could tell he wasn’t sharing anything new with his Father. Likely the man knew more of the his own wedding than he could claim to, a fact that chafed at him as he spoke. Impassive as Irakles may have remained, his son did not miss the manner in which the elder rubbed at his chest, frowning a little as he went on to push for the real reason he had been summoned.
There was a wry look at the acknowledgement that followed, Achilleas wondering if the man opposite him would ever credit with him with the acuity that everyone else seemed able to do. Irakles had bred no fool, and though Achilleas could acknowledge that his name and family had served to pave his way sometimes, he thought perhaps his father thought it all his own doing and that his eldest child had done nothing of note along the way.
A short nod was all the reply to the question his father posed, Achilleas’ head tilting back slightly as Irakles coughed, as the son wondered as to this..frailty he was not used to seeing. But he had little time to think on it, for the words that followed bore closer scrutiny, and Achilleas set down his chalice, sat back and surveyed his father, his gaze narrowed and shrewd.
“Do I not always?” he said lightly, though there was a tension in his features that belied the annoyance he felt at the fact his father thought he needed reminding of his duty in such a way. “ I have been on the council for years enough now that such words seem unnecessary, Father.”
But Irakles had not finished, and as he listened the younger of the two Mikaelidas men let his gaze fall away, blew out a gust of air in a huff through his nose. A familiar sort of resignation set in.
'I’m sure you agree son' translated quite simply into You will agree, son.
And the fact that Irakles had seen the matter warranted a forewarning, a conversation such as the one they were having then was all the knowledge Achilleas needed to decide it would surely be something he would not agree with. He had a horrible feeling that he could predict the leaning of ‘matters that would be tabled’ and when he raised his eyes back up to look at his father, there was a guarded expression there, and he spoke carefully.
“ Of course. After such turbulence we have seen of late, the people need constancy...a stable rule. It is a blessing then, that our new Queen is with child, and that there is an heir on the way.”
He knew of course that was not the stability that his father was angling for. His father who craved power over all else, who had been relegated to the man at the shoulder of the King and denied his own desire to rule all his long life. He would have only one proposal for the best for Taengea. And however the Prince saw such a thing coming to pass, Achilleas could only think that he had sworn fealty to Stephanos, and he liked to think his loyalty meant something when he offered it.
Irakles could take his words as cautious ones, given where they were and the possibility of eyes and ears upon them. Or he could take them as the small rebellion they were. It would make no difference, he would still expect that Achilleas defer to his word and rule, and not for the first time, his son felt the weight of that.
“I am sure you will find many like minds amongst the barons...” he voiced, a subtle way of enquiring as to whether his father had been working already to secure confidence in whatever his scheme was. It would depend, of course, of his fathers confidence in him whether he would get a true answer or not.
Achilleas could tell he wasn’t sharing anything new with his Father. Likely the man knew more of the his own wedding than he could claim to, a fact that chafed at him as he spoke. Impassive as Irakles may have remained, his son did not miss the manner in which the elder rubbed at his chest, frowning a little as he went on to push for the real reason he had been summoned.
There was a wry look at the acknowledgement that followed, Achilleas wondering if the man opposite him would ever credit with him with the acuity that everyone else seemed able to do. Irakles had bred no fool, and though Achilleas could acknowledge that his name and family had served to pave his way sometimes, he thought perhaps his father thought it all his own doing and that his eldest child had done nothing of note along the way.
A short nod was all the reply to the question his father posed, Achilleas’ head tilting back slightly as Irakles coughed, as the son wondered as to this..frailty he was not used to seeing. But he had little time to think on it, for the words that followed bore closer scrutiny, and Achilleas set down his chalice, sat back and surveyed his father, his gaze narrowed and shrewd.
“Do I not always?” he said lightly, though there was a tension in his features that belied the annoyance he felt at the fact his father thought he needed reminding of his duty in such a way. “ I have been on the council for years enough now that such words seem unnecessary, Father.”
But Irakles had not finished, and as he listened the younger of the two Mikaelidas men let his gaze fall away, blew out a gust of air in a huff through his nose. A familiar sort of resignation set in.
'I’m sure you agree son' translated quite simply into You will agree, son.
And the fact that Irakles had seen the matter warranted a forewarning, a conversation such as the one they were having then was all the knowledge Achilleas needed to decide it would surely be something he would not agree with. He had a horrible feeling that he could predict the leaning of ‘matters that would be tabled’ and when he raised his eyes back up to look at his father, there was a guarded expression there, and he spoke carefully.
“ Of course. After such turbulence we have seen of late, the people need constancy...a stable rule. It is a blessing then, that our new Queen is with child, and that there is an heir on the way.”
He knew of course that was not the stability that his father was angling for. His father who craved power over all else, who had been relegated to the man at the shoulder of the King and denied his own desire to rule all his long life. He would have only one proposal for the best for Taengea. And however the Prince saw such a thing coming to pass, Achilleas could only think that he had sworn fealty to Stephanos, and he liked to think his loyalty meant something when he offered it.
Irakles could take his words as cautious ones, given where they were and the possibility of eyes and ears upon them. Or he could take them as the small rebellion they were. It would make no difference, he would still expect that Achilleas defer to his word and rule, and not for the first time, his son felt the weight of that.
“I am sure you will find many like minds amongst the barons...” he voiced, a subtle way of enquiring as to whether his father had been working already to secure confidence in whatever his scheme was. It would depend, of course, of his fathers confidence in him whether he would get a true answer or not.
His sons were raised to be tough - no sons of generals were allowed to be anything else, afterall. What more, they were the sons of a well decorated general of Taengea, who has brought back many glorious wins in the name of their Kingdom - Irakles would not expect anything less then perfection from Achilleas and Emilios. Luckily for him, many have whispered of his eldest to be blessed. Emilios? Well, his second-born had much to prove yet, but Irakles will withhold judgement as long as he had Achilleas at the forefront.
He nodded in satisfaction at Achilleas's reply - until the younger Mikaelidas brought up the unborn heir. The hand resting on his lap out of Achilleas's sight clenched, the only indication of his annoyance at the unforeseen plan that the fool nephew of his would have impregnated a royal family's daughter. Had he not done such a fool act, Irakles would have even more ammo against Stephanos.
But he will make do.
Outwardly in the eyes of the younger one, the general's expression did not change, as he merely give what looked like an agreeable nod. "A stable rule is what the kingdom needs. I simply hope your cousin would grow to be that stable ruler the King needs to be." It was no secret, that Stephanos had been a laissez-faire person before the whole debacle with his father and brother's death had happened. Almost every other week saw Stephanos drinking and carousing with girls, and the man was a well-known seducer of females, with rumored children all the way to Colchis.
He was not exactly the classic ruler a King should be. While others may call him a hypocrite, at the very least, after Myrto had bore him two sons, Irakles had kept it to his current lover only, and no one else. His form of loyalty and affection may be odd, yet it was the only way the war-hardened general knew how.
Achilleas's seeming loyalty to Stephanos irked him, but he did not let it show - so long as Achilleas would vote for the future of his kingdom, and not vote out of blind, misplaced loyalty, Irakles would do nothing. But should results prove otherwise.... well, that depends to be seen. The prince would not draw conclusions yet, but he will watch and see.
"I am sure, Achilleas." he echoed, eyes flicking to fall on the familiar features of his firstborn. "Do you share the same idea then? That the new king will provide a stable, future rule?" His question was a veiled one, the type that he did not doubt Achilleas would pick up on. He had spent many meals with many barons, and many had agreed with him on the uncertainty of the Kingdom's future when left in the hands of a new ruler who had never had a hand in handling a barony before, and was more well versed in war.
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His sons were raised to be tough - no sons of generals were allowed to be anything else, afterall. What more, they were the sons of a well decorated general of Taengea, who has brought back many glorious wins in the name of their Kingdom - Irakles would not expect anything less then perfection from Achilleas and Emilios. Luckily for him, many have whispered of his eldest to be blessed. Emilios? Well, his second-born had much to prove yet, but Irakles will withhold judgement as long as he had Achilleas at the forefront.
He nodded in satisfaction at Achilleas's reply - until the younger Mikaelidas brought up the unborn heir. The hand resting on his lap out of Achilleas's sight clenched, the only indication of his annoyance at the unforeseen plan that the fool nephew of his would have impregnated a royal family's daughter. Had he not done such a fool act, Irakles would have even more ammo against Stephanos.
But he will make do.
Outwardly in the eyes of the younger one, the general's expression did not change, as he merely give what looked like an agreeable nod. "A stable rule is what the kingdom needs. I simply hope your cousin would grow to be that stable ruler the King needs to be." It was no secret, that Stephanos had been a laissez-faire person before the whole debacle with his father and brother's death had happened. Almost every other week saw Stephanos drinking and carousing with girls, and the man was a well-known seducer of females, with rumored children all the way to Colchis.
He was not exactly the classic ruler a King should be. While others may call him a hypocrite, at the very least, after Myrto had bore him two sons, Irakles had kept it to his current lover only, and no one else. His form of loyalty and affection may be odd, yet it was the only way the war-hardened general knew how.
Achilleas's seeming loyalty to Stephanos irked him, but he did not let it show - so long as Achilleas would vote for the future of his kingdom, and not vote out of blind, misplaced loyalty, Irakles would do nothing. But should results prove otherwise.... well, that depends to be seen. The prince would not draw conclusions yet, but he will watch and see.
"I am sure, Achilleas." he echoed, eyes flicking to fall on the familiar features of his firstborn. "Do you share the same idea then? That the new king will provide a stable, future rule?" His question was a veiled one, the type that he did not doubt Achilleas would pick up on. He had spent many meals with many barons, and many had agreed with him on the uncertainty of the Kingdom's future when left in the hands of a new ruler who had never had a hand in handling a barony before, and was more well versed in war.
His sons were raised to be tough - no sons of generals were allowed to be anything else, afterall. What more, they were the sons of a well decorated general of Taengea, who has brought back many glorious wins in the name of their Kingdom - Irakles would not expect anything less then perfection from Achilleas and Emilios. Luckily for him, many have whispered of his eldest to be blessed. Emilios? Well, his second-born had much to prove yet, but Irakles will withhold judgement as long as he had Achilleas at the forefront.
He nodded in satisfaction at Achilleas's reply - until the younger Mikaelidas brought up the unborn heir. The hand resting on his lap out of Achilleas's sight clenched, the only indication of his annoyance at the unforeseen plan that the fool nephew of his would have impregnated a royal family's daughter. Had he not done such a fool act, Irakles would have even more ammo against Stephanos.
But he will make do.
Outwardly in the eyes of the younger one, the general's expression did not change, as he merely give what looked like an agreeable nod. "A stable rule is what the kingdom needs. I simply hope your cousin would grow to be that stable ruler the King needs to be." It was no secret, that Stephanos had been a laissez-faire person before the whole debacle with his father and brother's death had happened. Almost every other week saw Stephanos drinking and carousing with girls, and the man was a well-known seducer of females, with rumored children all the way to Colchis.
He was not exactly the classic ruler a King should be. While others may call him a hypocrite, at the very least, after Myrto had bore him two sons, Irakles had kept it to his current lover only, and no one else. His form of loyalty and affection may be odd, yet it was the only way the war-hardened general knew how.
Achilleas's seeming loyalty to Stephanos irked him, but he did not let it show - so long as Achilleas would vote for the future of his kingdom, and not vote out of blind, misplaced loyalty, Irakles would do nothing. But should results prove otherwise.... well, that depends to be seen. The prince would not draw conclusions yet, but he will watch and see.
"I am sure, Achilleas." he echoed, eyes flicking to fall on the familiar features of his firstborn. "Do you share the same idea then? That the new king will provide a stable, future rule?" His question was a veiled one, the type that he did not doubt Achilleas would pick up on. He had spent many meals with many barons, and many had agreed with him on the uncertainty of the Kingdom's future when left in the hands of a new ruler who had never had a hand in handling a barony before, and was more well versed in war.
Sometimes, though he knew it for the childishness it was, Achilleas would find himself throwing in these words that he knew would rile. Sometimes, the satisfaction of provoking a reaction was enough, even it were not the reaction he truly wanted. As he grew older, it had become immensely gratifying to see those brief flickers where his father would lose some of that long perfected control.
Now though, sitting before him, this man who had pushed him, schooled him, berated every failure, he saw it for the empty pleasure it was, and he was not even granted with a glimmer of consternation for his trouble. The son looked upon his father and gave some thought to his words.
No, it was not the first time it had been said that King Stephanos did not have the grounding required to lead. Achilleas himself might have quietly wondered it himself. But, seemingly unlike his father, the eldest of Irakle’s sons was willing to give his cousin the benefit of the doubt. To give the fledgling King the chance to prove himself without the yoke of grief hung heavy upon him, or the pressing drive for vengeance. Then would they see his true colours and see if he bled for Taengea like the rest of them.
He did not respond immediately to the question turned back on him ; he knew it well enough to be more than the simplicity it was couched in and so he considered his answer, and when it was delivered, he met his Father’s gaze steadily.
“ I am of a mind that there needs to be time for the dust to settle” he said quietly, worrying already that such a thing would not come to pass. “Would you not say so, my Lord? There has been much unrest, and all would benefit from days without strife.” Without further upsetting things, he wanted to add, useless though he could see it would be.
He did not know what his Father was planning, but it was clear to him now that the Senate would be involved, and that the groundwork had already been done. He would have been left until last because his Father considered him easy to manipulate. Or perhaps because his trust in him was not as steady as it ought to be. Neither option pleased Achilleas whose gaze drifted to the window as if he wished himself elsewhere.
After a few moments of silence, he drew a breath in through his nose and blew it out again, nostrils flaring. “ What would you have of me, sir? My voice to join your own? I will do what I think best for Taengea” There was a thread of steel through his words, tempered with a restrained frustration, as if the commander of armies could not understand how it always came down to this.
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Sometimes, though he knew it for the childishness it was, Achilleas would find himself throwing in these words that he knew would rile. Sometimes, the satisfaction of provoking a reaction was enough, even it were not the reaction he truly wanted. As he grew older, it had become immensely gratifying to see those brief flickers where his father would lose some of that long perfected control.
Now though, sitting before him, this man who had pushed him, schooled him, berated every failure, he saw it for the empty pleasure it was, and he was not even granted with a glimmer of consternation for his trouble. The son looked upon his father and gave some thought to his words.
No, it was not the first time it had been said that King Stephanos did not have the grounding required to lead. Achilleas himself might have quietly wondered it himself. But, seemingly unlike his father, the eldest of Irakle’s sons was willing to give his cousin the benefit of the doubt. To give the fledgling King the chance to prove himself without the yoke of grief hung heavy upon him, or the pressing drive for vengeance. Then would they see his true colours and see if he bled for Taengea like the rest of them.
He did not respond immediately to the question turned back on him ; he knew it well enough to be more than the simplicity it was couched in and so he considered his answer, and when it was delivered, he met his Father’s gaze steadily.
“ I am of a mind that there needs to be time for the dust to settle” he said quietly, worrying already that such a thing would not come to pass. “Would you not say so, my Lord? There has been much unrest, and all would benefit from days without strife.” Without further upsetting things, he wanted to add, useless though he could see it would be.
He did not know what his Father was planning, but it was clear to him now that the Senate would be involved, and that the groundwork had already been done. He would have been left until last because his Father considered him easy to manipulate. Or perhaps because his trust in him was not as steady as it ought to be. Neither option pleased Achilleas whose gaze drifted to the window as if he wished himself elsewhere.
After a few moments of silence, he drew a breath in through his nose and blew it out again, nostrils flaring. “ What would you have of me, sir? My voice to join your own? I will do what I think best for Taengea” There was a thread of steel through his words, tempered with a restrained frustration, as if the commander of armies could not understand how it always came down to this.
Sometimes, though he knew it for the childishness it was, Achilleas would find himself throwing in these words that he knew would rile. Sometimes, the satisfaction of provoking a reaction was enough, even it were not the reaction he truly wanted. As he grew older, it had become immensely gratifying to see those brief flickers where his father would lose some of that long perfected control.
Now though, sitting before him, this man who had pushed him, schooled him, berated every failure, he saw it for the empty pleasure it was, and he was not even granted with a glimmer of consternation for his trouble. The son looked upon his father and gave some thought to his words.
No, it was not the first time it had been said that King Stephanos did not have the grounding required to lead. Achilleas himself might have quietly wondered it himself. But, seemingly unlike his father, the eldest of Irakle’s sons was willing to give his cousin the benefit of the doubt. To give the fledgling King the chance to prove himself without the yoke of grief hung heavy upon him, or the pressing drive for vengeance. Then would they see his true colours and see if he bled for Taengea like the rest of them.
He did not respond immediately to the question turned back on him ; he knew it well enough to be more than the simplicity it was couched in and so he considered his answer, and when it was delivered, he met his Father’s gaze steadily.
“ I am of a mind that there needs to be time for the dust to settle” he said quietly, worrying already that such a thing would not come to pass. “Would you not say so, my Lord? There has been much unrest, and all would benefit from days without strife.” Without further upsetting things, he wanted to add, useless though he could see it would be.
He did not know what his Father was planning, but it was clear to him now that the Senate would be involved, and that the groundwork had already been done. He would have been left until last because his Father considered him easy to manipulate. Or perhaps because his trust in him was not as steady as it ought to be. Neither option pleased Achilleas whose gaze drifted to the window as if he wished himself elsewhere.
After a few moments of silence, he drew a breath in through his nose and blew it out again, nostrils flaring. “ What would you have of me, sir? My voice to join your own? I will do what I think best for Taengea” There was a thread of steel through his words, tempered with a restrained frustration, as if the commander of armies could not understand how it always came down to this.
Stephanos's need to step into a position of leadership was a surprising one, but even more so was the fact that he had married - something he knew most of Taengea thought would never occur for the playboy second son to the former King. They all trusted Zacharias to run the kingdom, and Zacharias had always been the perfect son. With Zacharias around, Irakles stood no chance, not even the slimmest.
That was why the crown prince had to go.
What bewildered him was that the Senate would actually trust Stephanos enough to go through with him as the King. Yet Irakles knew, trust was a fickle friend that could be swayed, and it was exactly those cards he tried to play. Besides, while benefit of doubt could be given to many, and indeed many said that one learnt best by making mistakes, Irakles did not think many of the barons and nobility in Taengea was willing to allow Stephanos to learn at the expense of their kingdom.
"My Prince, Achilleas. I wish you do not forget yourself." he corrected in a terse tone. Irakles was always one for decorum and the proper address, and he was still a prince of the realm, despite the fact that his nephew sat on the throne. His father was the former King of Taengea, and Irakles was unlikely to allow anyone to forget that fact soon. "And yes, while I do agree that there needs be time for dust to settle, I do not think we have the pleasure of time, in regards to ensuring a Kingdom runs smoothly. Unless there is some manner in which we could pause time while your cousin learns the reins?" he murmured, in a tone that was almost challenging to Achilleas. His son should know, while Stephanos has had training to lead in military, the second son had never been asked to lead a barony in any proper form, much less a kingdom. There was a reason why the dowager queen had asked Irakles to reside in the palati afterall.
Achilleas's words after the brief moment of silence had Irakles raising his brows, as he appeared to be considering his words. He had trained Achilleas to be calm and collected, both traits of which were important to ensure one stayed alive in the heat of a battle or war. He had hoped those traits would translate across to his dealings as a baron, and that he would be of clear mind to see his argument when it came down to it - instead of blind loyalty. "I should hope so." Irakles murmured, a tone so much softer compared to the steel wrapped words of his son. He was no dense man, he could sense the frustration beneath the younger Mikaelidas and his words.
"I certainly hope you put what is best for Taengea, and her immediate future, for this is your land and your kingdom that you will eventually have your children in. I do not wish for what your grandfather and uncle to have run prosperously... die, in someone else's hands." Irakles paused, steepling his fingers on his lap again, and then amended his last sentence. "In someone else's incompetent,inexperienced hands." There was little doubt as to what he was implying to his son.
"I'll leave you to consider your words, and your thoughts, Achilleas. I'll see you in the Senate meet a few days hence. Do not be late." With his final words, Irakles picked up the papers he had been perusing again, flicking a strand of his fallen hair away from the parchment, as his eyes perused the scrawled words of his scribe on the latest budget amendments given to certain provinces, and updates on the budget for the next large event to be held in the capitol. It was an obvious dismissal for the boy, but one that meant Irakles had high expectations for Achilleas when they next met.
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Stephanos's need to step into a position of leadership was a surprising one, but even more so was the fact that he had married - something he knew most of Taengea thought would never occur for the playboy second son to the former King. They all trusted Zacharias to run the kingdom, and Zacharias had always been the perfect son. With Zacharias around, Irakles stood no chance, not even the slimmest.
That was why the crown prince had to go.
What bewildered him was that the Senate would actually trust Stephanos enough to go through with him as the King. Yet Irakles knew, trust was a fickle friend that could be swayed, and it was exactly those cards he tried to play. Besides, while benefit of doubt could be given to many, and indeed many said that one learnt best by making mistakes, Irakles did not think many of the barons and nobility in Taengea was willing to allow Stephanos to learn at the expense of their kingdom.
"My Prince, Achilleas. I wish you do not forget yourself." he corrected in a terse tone. Irakles was always one for decorum and the proper address, and he was still a prince of the realm, despite the fact that his nephew sat on the throne. His father was the former King of Taengea, and Irakles was unlikely to allow anyone to forget that fact soon. "And yes, while I do agree that there needs be time for dust to settle, I do not think we have the pleasure of time, in regards to ensuring a Kingdom runs smoothly. Unless there is some manner in which we could pause time while your cousin learns the reins?" he murmured, in a tone that was almost challenging to Achilleas. His son should know, while Stephanos has had training to lead in military, the second son had never been asked to lead a barony in any proper form, much less a kingdom. There was a reason why the dowager queen had asked Irakles to reside in the palati afterall.
Achilleas's words after the brief moment of silence had Irakles raising his brows, as he appeared to be considering his words. He had trained Achilleas to be calm and collected, both traits of which were important to ensure one stayed alive in the heat of a battle or war. He had hoped those traits would translate across to his dealings as a baron, and that he would be of clear mind to see his argument when it came down to it - instead of blind loyalty. "I should hope so." Irakles murmured, a tone so much softer compared to the steel wrapped words of his son. He was no dense man, he could sense the frustration beneath the younger Mikaelidas and his words.
"I certainly hope you put what is best for Taengea, and her immediate future, for this is your land and your kingdom that you will eventually have your children in. I do not wish for what your grandfather and uncle to have run prosperously... die, in someone else's hands." Irakles paused, steepling his fingers on his lap again, and then amended his last sentence. "In someone else's incompetent,inexperienced hands." There was little doubt as to what he was implying to his son.
"I'll leave you to consider your words, and your thoughts, Achilleas. I'll see you in the Senate meet a few days hence. Do not be late." With his final words, Irakles picked up the papers he had been perusing again, flicking a strand of his fallen hair away from the parchment, as his eyes perused the scrawled words of his scribe on the latest budget amendments given to certain provinces, and updates on the budget for the next large event to be held in the capitol. It was an obvious dismissal for the boy, but one that meant Irakles had high expectations for Achilleas when they next met.
Stephanos's need to step into a position of leadership was a surprising one, but even more so was the fact that he had married - something he knew most of Taengea thought would never occur for the playboy second son to the former King. They all trusted Zacharias to run the kingdom, and Zacharias had always been the perfect son. With Zacharias around, Irakles stood no chance, not even the slimmest.
That was why the crown prince had to go.
What bewildered him was that the Senate would actually trust Stephanos enough to go through with him as the King. Yet Irakles knew, trust was a fickle friend that could be swayed, and it was exactly those cards he tried to play. Besides, while benefit of doubt could be given to many, and indeed many said that one learnt best by making mistakes, Irakles did not think many of the barons and nobility in Taengea was willing to allow Stephanos to learn at the expense of their kingdom.
"My Prince, Achilleas. I wish you do not forget yourself." he corrected in a terse tone. Irakles was always one for decorum and the proper address, and he was still a prince of the realm, despite the fact that his nephew sat on the throne. His father was the former King of Taengea, and Irakles was unlikely to allow anyone to forget that fact soon. "And yes, while I do agree that there needs be time for dust to settle, I do not think we have the pleasure of time, in regards to ensuring a Kingdom runs smoothly. Unless there is some manner in which we could pause time while your cousin learns the reins?" he murmured, in a tone that was almost challenging to Achilleas. His son should know, while Stephanos has had training to lead in military, the second son had never been asked to lead a barony in any proper form, much less a kingdom. There was a reason why the dowager queen had asked Irakles to reside in the palati afterall.
Achilleas's words after the brief moment of silence had Irakles raising his brows, as he appeared to be considering his words. He had trained Achilleas to be calm and collected, both traits of which were important to ensure one stayed alive in the heat of a battle or war. He had hoped those traits would translate across to his dealings as a baron, and that he would be of clear mind to see his argument when it came down to it - instead of blind loyalty. "I should hope so." Irakles murmured, a tone so much softer compared to the steel wrapped words of his son. He was no dense man, he could sense the frustration beneath the younger Mikaelidas and his words.
"I certainly hope you put what is best for Taengea, and her immediate future, for this is your land and your kingdom that you will eventually have your children in. I do not wish for what your grandfather and uncle to have run prosperously... die, in someone else's hands." Irakles paused, steepling his fingers on his lap again, and then amended his last sentence. "In someone else's incompetent,inexperienced hands." There was little doubt as to what he was implying to his son.
"I'll leave you to consider your words, and your thoughts, Achilleas. I'll see you in the Senate meet a few days hence. Do not be late." With his final words, Irakles picked up the papers he had been perusing again, flicking a strand of his fallen hair away from the parchment, as his eyes perused the scrawled words of his scribe on the latest budget amendments given to certain provinces, and updates on the budget for the next large event to be held in the capitol. It was an obvious dismissal for the boy, but one that meant Irakles had high expectations for Achilleas when they next met.
Achilleas’ eyes flashed up to his father at the reprimand, he had not even realised his miss-step, and gave a small nod to acknowledge it. He should know better than to fumble over the simple things. Things he knew Irakles would pick up on like a stray dog with a bone. He did not find it so easy to swallow the man’s next words though, hearing his own sentiments played back to him in that dismissive, almost taunting, fashion.
There was a struggle to find a rebuttal, as he knew his father would have intended, but still Achilleas looked to make his point. Yes, Stephanos had things he must learn, but what was he doing that was threatening the realm? He could hardly imagine Irakles letting his cousin get away with anything, no matter who was wearing the crown. Though perhaps that was it, he mused, perhaps his cousin was proving more difficult to steer. If nothing else, the Prince was a man used to having those around him capitulate. If it were so, he might have to ask Stephanos for tips, he himself finding his father rather like an unstoppable force of nature.
It was the subtle arch of the man's brows that let the son know he had revealed too much, had let the man get under his skin, and so he pulled back, buttoned down his frustrations as he always did and prepared to chalk this up as another conversation that he would gain no ground in. It was a well-rehearsed dance betwixt the two of them and he did not know why he went into it again and again and hoped for a different outcome.
And as if he sensed that hesitation, the resignation, his father drove home his point with a few words that he knew would speak to his son’s sense of loyalty, the values he had been raised upon. Taengea before all. As always.
His lips pressed together as considered the implications of those words. Achilleas would lay down his life in a heartbeat to protect those he cared for. He would work himself into the ground to ensure the prosperity of their lands, but he knew as well that when he had children, he did not want to become the man before him.
Before he could respond though , there was that dismissal. Blunt and cool like a dull blade, the baron almost snorted at how offhand it was. Achilleas stared at his father a few long moment, willing him to look back up, to give him the grace of a chance to speak.
It did not come, and so with a precise economy of movement that spoke of long-ingrained discipline, Achilleas stood and bowed, every line of his body pulled tight with tension. He did not let it creep into his voice this time.Even with the instruction not to be late that was carefully delivered at the end. Because of course it would not go unremarked upon.
“As you wish, my Prince”. The few steps backward to the door, and then the elder son turned and stepped through, waiting until the servant had closed it firmly behind him until he sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples as if to rub away the headache he could feel brewing. Suddenly it seemed as though he ought to be preparing himself for the Senate meet, and he did not know that he liked the implications his father had left him with. Consider his words and thoughts, indeed.
Achilleas suddenly became aware of the eyes of the servant upon him, no doubt wondering why he lingered like a fool in the corridor, and he shot the young man a look that had him flush and look at his feet. There was little satisfaction in it though, for once again, he had somehow failed to stand his ground. With that bitter thought for company, the Commander stalked from the Palati.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Achilleas’ eyes flashed up to his father at the reprimand, he had not even realised his miss-step, and gave a small nod to acknowledge it. He should know better than to fumble over the simple things. Things he knew Irakles would pick up on like a stray dog with a bone. He did not find it so easy to swallow the man’s next words though, hearing his own sentiments played back to him in that dismissive, almost taunting, fashion.
There was a struggle to find a rebuttal, as he knew his father would have intended, but still Achilleas looked to make his point. Yes, Stephanos had things he must learn, but what was he doing that was threatening the realm? He could hardly imagine Irakles letting his cousin get away with anything, no matter who was wearing the crown. Though perhaps that was it, he mused, perhaps his cousin was proving more difficult to steer. If nothing else, the Prince was a man used to having those around him capitulate. If it were so, he might have to ask Stephanos for tips, he himself finding his father rather like an unstoppable force of nature.
It was the subtle arch of the man's brows that let the son know he had revealed too much, had let the man get under his skin, and so he pulled back, buttoned down his frustrations as he always did and prepared to chalk this up as another conversation that he would gain no ground in. It was a well-rehearsed dance betwixt the two of them and he did not know why he went into it again and again and hoped for a different outcome.
And as if he sensed that hesitation, the resignation, his father drove home his point with a few words that he knew would speak to his son’s sense of loyalty, the values he had been raised upon. Taengea before all. As always.
His lips pressed together as considered the implications of those words. Achilleas would lay down his life in a heartbeat to protect those he cared for. He would work himself into the ground to ensure the prosperity of their lands, but he knew as well that when he had children, he did not want to become the man before him.
Before he could respond though , there was that dismissal. Blunt and cool like a dull blade, the baron almost snorted at how offhand it was. Achilleas stared at his father a few long moment, willing him to look back up, to give him the grace of a chance to speak.
It did not come, and so with a precise economy of movement that spoke of long-ingrained discipline, Achilleas stood and bowed, every line of his body pulled tight with tension. He did not let it creep into his voice this time.Even with the instruction not to be late that was carefully delivered at the end. Because of course it would not go unremarked upon.
“As you wish, my Prince”. The few steps backward to the door, and then the elder son turned and stepped through, waiting until the servant had closed it firmly behind him until he sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples as if to rub away the headache he could feel brewing. Suddenly it seemed as though he ought to be preparing himself for the Senate meet, and he did not know that he liked the implications his father had left him with. Consider his words and thoughts, indeed.
Achilleas suddenly became aware of the eyes of the servant upon him, no doubt wondering why he lingered like a fool in the corridor, and he shot the young man a look that had him flush and look at his feet. There was little satisfaction in it though, for once again, he had somehow failed to stand his ground. With that bitter thought for company, the Commander stalked from the Palati.
Achilleas’ eyes flashed up to his father at the reprimand, he had not even realised his miss-step, and gave a small nod to acknowledge it. He should know better than to fumble over the simple things. Things he knew Irakles would pick up on like a stray dog with a bone. He did not find it so easy to swallow the man’s next words though, hearing his own sentiments played back to him in that dismissive, almost taunting, fashion.
There was a struggle to find a rebuttal, as he knew his father would have intended, but still Achilleas looked to make his point. Yes, Stephanos had things he must learn, but what was he doing that was threatening the realm? He could hardly imagine Irakles letting his cousin get away with anything, no matter who was wearing the crown. Though perhaps that was it, he mused, perhaps his cousin was proving more difficult to steer. If nothing else, the Prince was a man used to having those around him capitulate. If it were so, he might have to ask Stephanos for tips, he himself finding his father rather like an unstoppable force of nature.
It was the subtle arch of the man's brows that let the son know he had revealed too much, had let the man get under his skin, and so he pulled back, buttoned down his frustrations as he always did and prepared to chalk this up as another conversation that he would gain no ground in. It was a well-rehearsed dance betwixt the two of them and he did not know why he went into it again and again and hoped for a different outcome.
And as if he sensed that hesitation, the resignation, his father drove home his point with a few words that he knew would speak to his son’s sense of loyalty, the values he had been raised upon. Taengea before all. As always.
His lips pressed together as considered the implications of those words. Achilleas would lay down his life in a heartbeat to protect those he cared for. He would work himself into the ground to ensure the prosperity of their lands, but he knew as well that when he had children, he did not want to become the man before him.
Before he could respond though , there was that dismissal. Blunt and cool like a dull blade, the baron almost snorted at how offhand it was. Achilleas stared at his father a few long moment, willing him to look back up, to give him the grace of a chance to speak.
It did not come, and so with a precise economy of movement that spoke of long-ingrained discipline, Achilleas stood and bowed, every line of his body pulled tight with tension. He did not let it creep into his voice this time.Even with the instruction not to be late that was carefully delivered at the end. Because of course it would not go unremarked upon.
“As you wish, my Prince”. The few steps backward to the door, and then the elder son turned and stepped through, waiting until the servant had closed it firmly behind him until he sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples as if to rub away the headache he could feel brewing. Suddenly it seemed as though he ought to be preparing himself for the Senate meet, and he did not know that he liked the implications his father had left him with. Consider his words and thoughts, indeed.
Achilleas suddenly became aware of the eyes of the servant upon him, no doubt wondering why he lingered like a fool in the corridor, and he shot the young man a look that had him flush and look at his feet. There was little satisfaction in it though, for once again, he had somehow failed to stand his ground. With that bitter thought for company, the Commander stalked from the Palati.
