Neither aware nor sharing in the trauma that currently plagued a woman he knew, Vangelis was preoccupied and focused on his new lodgings with the Dimitrou family. As it turned out, upon their arrival to Meganea, chaos had descended upon the house in the form of the Queen of Athenia taking refuge from the political upheaval in her home kingdom. With no-one wishing to speak of the event though none of them being able to deny it as Vangelis had met Persephone on more than one occasion and knew her by sight, any serious talk or advocation of conversation had fallen into awkward quiet. The girls had taken themselves into their own company as Asia, Dorothea and Imeeya seemed to find a simple and easy friendship that women appeared to fall into with ease. The Lord Dorotheos was temporarily away from the manor that day seeing to business around the province and Lord Gavriil and Lord Iason appeared in deep conversation regarding private matters, most liked the impending nuptials of the latter who had just had his engaged partner fall from Queen to destitute.

All in all, the visit had left Vangelis mostly with the company of himself or with Nike when he wasn't sending her to watch over his sister. Neither of these things: the company of his second, or is own, were in any way trying for him but they were - to a certain extent - boring and without purpose.

And Vangelis was not a man who enjoyed being without a purpose.

A workaholic by nature and a perfectionist in instinct, Vangelis always had something upon his busy schedule to do. Be they the tasks of a crown prince, a baron or a General. And whilst those tasks were still on-going there was only so much that could be sent via bird to be completely whilst abroad which meant, while he was holed up in Taengea as guardian and protector to his sister, paperwork and responsibilities were piling up for him back in Colchis.

It was a frustrating situation to be sure.

And in order to set his mind away from such things and turn it to be more effectively focused, Vangelis had excused himself after lunch, allowing Gavriil to speak with the King in private and Iason to return to his woman and instead made a use of himself outside.

Initially, Vangelis had chosen a particular tree and sacrificed it to a sparring session. Whilst the tree put up little defence it was good to work his muscles into family routines and patterns, pushing hard and faster to strengthen their force with every strike. After an hour or so, he had switched to routine drills and the exercises he put his men through every day. Having always followed his unit with whatever training he wanted of them, and doubling it upon himself, Vangelis completed those quickly also.

Had the sun not been exceptionally hot that day, causing his to sweat through and to suffer in his breathing, the work out would have been little to useless. But as it was the peak of summer, he had at least been able to work his body harder than it might have felt in cooler temperatures.

Reaching up and over his head, Vangelis pulled his shirt from where he had tucked it into his riding pants that morning and hauled it up and over his head. His hair was sent in different directions and he wiped his face and chest with the garment before throwing it to one side, into a pool of shade cast by the yard cabin that was kept on the outskirts of the Dimitrou property.

It was here that Vangelis had chosen to work. Out near the main gates and far from the prying eyes of the other residents on the Dimitrou land. The open space with fresh and green and encased on several sides by dense forestry. The only thing to be heard was the noises of animals in the tree tops and bracken and the odd noise from the stables a hundred yards down the pathway.

It was quiet and peaceful.

But it still wasn't the distraction he was looking for.

Considering for a moment going to seek our Nike and find her claymore with which to practice - for that would surely offer him a harder workout than he had so far put is body through, his eyes caught on a large pile of trunks - tree trunks, slim and felled into long shapes ready to be broken down further for use in the manor - for hearths or ovens. An axe stood helpfully propped against the side of the cabin - a cabin full of just such broken down chunks of wood. And open stump was located just a few feet into the open grassy space.

With a slow exhale and a half shrug of open consideration Vangelis stepped forward and immediately took hold of the shaft of the axe. His hands were large and his muscles strong which meant the weight of the tool was of little consequence.

There was no need for him to complete the task of a menial labourer - the cabin was clearly stocked full for the next few weeks. But he had been told that, as a guest, he was welcome to make use of what he wished and a little physical exertion was turning out to be hard to come by. At least in exercising himself in this manner he would be of some use and help to his hosts.

And so, it came to be that the crown prince of Colchis was chopping wood in the Dimitrou lands.

Initially, Vangelis worked with logic and his own experience of the weapon. His first few slices through the trunks were a little inaccurate angle wise and the pieces not the same length, but he got the practice of it quickly enough. The same could be said for the force with which to hit the wood, his first tentative tests leaving the axe blade cemented half way through instead of slicing it entirely clean.

But once Vangelis had the process under control and the practice behind him, he actually found the task therapeutic. The careful positioning of the wood, the lift, hand change and then swing of the axe. The resounding thud of the blade hitting the stump and the rough peel of the wood splitting down the centre. He then picked up the pieces, threw them to one side into a make shift pile and repeated the process all over again.

Three hours later and Vangelis was hotter than before, his muscles were starting to actually burn and his breathing had become, if not laboured, then at least heavy with exertion. The small pile of broken wood had now become a large heap and he was beginning work on the last of the trunk pieces when he paused to assess the sound of approaching hooves.

Looking up, his face became a confused scowl as he noted his friend, the eldest daughter of the Leventi clan to be riding down the main path of the estate towards the Dimitrou manor. She made no glance in his direction but then why would she; she was clearly on business that took her to the manor house and, from his distance away from the path he likely appeared as a servant or stable hand.

Eager to see her and speak with her again, Vangelis turned his attention back to the last few blocks that were still to be split and decided that he would finish the task he had set himself, and then head back to the house in order to speak with the Lady Selene before she left.

Setting up his next piece, his intentions now set, Vangelis lifted, swung and drew the axe down with an almighty thud that sent nearby birds twittering with fright...

Vangelis was trained to notice his surroundings. He had honed his senses and his observation skills for many years - a skill that had kept him alive on both battlefield and the dance of the courts (one in which he was far more talented than the other). Ergo, he was no unfamiliar of Selene's approach, as he continued to break the pieces of tree trunk against the open stump. Despite the lands having shifted from the mud of the storm to the soft earth after a few days of baking heat, the hooves of the horse she rode were easy enough to pick up. What was less easy to notice, was the steps she made once she had dismounted and approached him from his blind spot. Elegant courtier ladies who had been taught in ways of grace and poise were hardly as noisy or noticeable as a man in full armour. Even an assassin with a soft step was easier to spot than the gentle pace of a woman.

As such, when Vangelis turned around, axe hanging loose in one hand and the pieces of firewood he had just chopped in the other, he had already raised an arm to toss the smaller pieces into the pile to behind him. A pile far too close to the Lady Selene for his natural liking. His male instincts picking up at the last minute, Vangelis scrambled to grab the wooden blocks he had just loosed and, dropping the axe was able to secure them with an unskilled fumble, latching into them with his fingertips, before he risked them bouncing off the pile and - say - landing on Selene's slippered feet.

With a dull thud, the blade of the axe hit the ground and Vangelis looked down to notice the metal edge had sliced through the very edge of the leather of his boot. There was no pain which meant only the shoe was the casualty but still...

That was close. He thought to himself, before dropping the pieces of wood more carefully onto the wood pile - the opposing side to which Selene stood and then took up the weapon again.

"My Lady..." He offered with a soft nod and dip of his shoulders, before turning and throwing a little weight into his swing and securing the blade into the stump where it could do no further harm. He turned back to Selene, clearly looking about for a moment in search of the shirt he had discarded but he had thrown it over by the cabin. On his person he had only his pants, riding low on his hips, his boots and his leather bracers strapped about his forearms. He would ask for forgiveness for his attire but it was she that had stumbled upon him, not to mention the fact that she had witnessed him in only a bedsheet before. To apologise now seemed fairly superfluous.

Dusting off his palms on the back and sides of his pants, Vangelis appeared a little uncomfortable and cast around for some kind of greeting that seemed applicable.

"It's nice to see you." He offered, before glancing to the main gates of the estate. His brow dropped low into a scowl. "You rode here alone?" He wasn't always safe for a woman of her obvious standing to travel without aid, and he had no knowledge that her man was waiting at the gate for her return...

Vangelis' features, whilst often fixed in a position of concentration or focus - enough so to make most people uncomfortable in his presence - had lowered into a scowl of thought as Selene gave the impression of being uncomfortable in his presence. It was clear to him that she hadn't expected to meet him on the way to the Dimitrou manor and that perhaps - in the friendly manner she was naturally inclined towards - she had simply breached the grasslands of the estate in order to pay dividends to their friendship. Only to then have nothing to say. Which was sweet, but unnecessary.

When the woman offered him a formal greeting in response to his own, Vangelis' lips quirked into that customary half smile at the subtlest of jibes and let it fall away as he watched her seeming to try and make sense of a conversation topic. Her discomfort was subtle and something that Vangelis was unlikely to pick up on with anyone else. Nor likely that anyone else would be astute enough to notice with her. The only reason that the crown prince even noticed something to be amiss was the fact that Selene seemed surprised when he mentioned her lack of guard. Which meant she hadn't been paying attention to where he was. In all the months he had known Selene, he had never known her to be ignorant of the people around her; she was too socially skilled and openly friendly to allow such a thing to happen. Which meant something had to be playing on her mind.

Likely, whatever it was she had been sent to discuss at the estate.

And his presence was holding up her plans.

When the woman confirmed that she hadn't ridden the entire distance alone - simply the hundred yards or so down the estate's private lane, Vangelis nodded in a firm gesture that was simply his way.

"Good." He stated with an equally hard tone. He gave no further comment as he was neither her father, uncle nor brother and had no rights upon telling her how to handle her own, personal safety, but he at least could make it clear that he approved of the precautions her uncle had taken and that she hadn't journeyed all the way from the capitol without a suitable guard in place.

The slip of the tongue that the lady offered wasn't one that Vangelis particularly noticed. To him, "fit" and "well" were near enough synonyms for he operated in a world of the military where one was not "well" unless they were also "fit" for duty. Ergo, he noticed her awkwardness but not the reasons for it.

Reaching out, Vangelis touched the very tips of his fingers to the lady's elbow as if to reassure her of the honesty of his next words.

"You have no need of entertaining me, Selene." He told her with his soft, half smile. He glanced down towards her final destination beyond a curve in the road, currently masking the manor from view. "Please see to your business with the Dimitrous." He told her, letting the brushing touch to her arm fall back. He spoke his next words with a soft shake of his head. "Your company is always pleasing but your friendship with me requires no social duties." He waved towards the Dimitrou manor, with a smile, indicating she was perfectly free to go and owed him nothing of her sense of social responsibility. "Perhaps we shall talk later."

And with that, he offered her a polite and shallow bow, as was his custom to her and then turned to reach our a bracer-clad forearm towards the hilt of the axe, intent on wrenching it from the stump and setting it and the results of his handy work inside the cabin before any more rain could damage the wood grain...

When Selene's slender touch reached out to pull at his arm, Vangelis moved instinctively to allow the guidance. It was unlikely a woman of her waif-like size would have been able to move him had not wished to, but having no realisation of her anger until he was facing her, Vangelis had no desire to refrain from turning as her hand encouraged.

Her hand looked particularly pale and small over his tan skin, he noticed.

But he was instantly distracted by the clear feminine anger that awaited him. What in the Gods name had he said, now?

As Selene verbalised her frustrations, Vangelis recognised where he had gone wrong. In suggesting she continue to the Dimitrou house he had diminished their friendship by suggesting that he was but a duty to her. That hadn't been his intention and he opened his mouth to assure her of that but she didn't let him get that far. He blinked and held his tongue. Any man raised by Yanni of Kotas knew better than to interrupt a woman when she was in full flow.

But by the time Selene's fit of pique was no longer flowing from her mouth - and Vangelis had the chance to quickly correct the confusion - he was thrown entirely for a loop by her anger somehow translating into a kiss.

And Vangelis never saw it coming...

Far from a stupid man, it did not hold true that the crown prince of Colchis could not at least be considered obtuse. A man used to efficiency, procedure and practice was a man who compartmentalised his life. His mind, his workload, his attention to his own physique and level of fitness. Everything was an exercise in efficiency and appropriate protocols. He was fit for duty the way that he was because he proportioned his days appropriately, he assigned time to his practising and weapon wielding. He made a deliberate choice and effort to double his own practices on top of his soldiers. For, to be a leader, you had to be the best. His work as a baron came next, with a carefully appointed and highly trusted steward handling the day to day issues and a finely tuned practice and process of authorisation and paperwork following his returns to the Colchian shoreline to ensure the work was completed on time. His responsibilities as a crown prince were less active tasks and more his own demeanour and bearing - characteristics that were naturally appropriate as being stoic and calm when he was forced to be just so by his military carrier.

In short, it had never struck Vangelis as odd that those around him considered him... boring. Dull. Unimaginative and rock-like.

But he had never sort to be something else. Vangelis was neither a jealous nor an ambitious man in the sense of having a desire to be looked upon with awe. He had never sought excessive social skill; to be a man with more friends than he could count. Nor had he sought great female attention or copious riches or anything else that a healthy male of his world would otherwise covet. Instead, he was focused on being that efficient general; the compartmentalising prince. The man who lived up to each of his roles: militant, baron, royal. And did so with effectiveness and honour.

It had left him severely out of practice when it came to recognising long-term developments or issues. Vangelis had a fixer-like attitude. And issue was raised, he assessed, he calculated, he fixed, he moved on. Socialising was a long-term development that worked entirely differently and while he had been mentally viewing his interactions with the Lady Selene on a case by case basis, he had been entirely missing the long-term goals or expectations she might have had of him.

Had he had the time to think it through logically, Vangelis would have realised his mistake instantly. He was a man of a certain age who was unmarried and she was a woman who was likewise. They were both of profitable and appropriate families and they were both expected, by said families, to marry someone of their own kind. They were, on paper, a fantastic match for marriage. Vangelis knew this because it was clearly what Fotios of Leventi wanted; given the dinner they had shared at the Leventi manor, and what Zanon had hoped for months ago in Athenia when he had pushed the two of them together during his period of recovery.

But Vangelis had never paid any of this any heed because he had never noticed or been outright told by Selene herself that such a thing was in her desires. She spoke of her sisters' marrying and producing children. Of how marriage was what was expected of her, rather than what she wanted. Vangelis knew everything about expectation and had never paid any heed to the notion that the two concepts had to be mutually inclusive.

Selene had been grace, poise and a perfect proprietary lady. And a friend. Which was rare for Vangelis when it came to the opposite gender. For they had always assumed that for him to pay them any mind or even share a conversation with them he had to be envisioning them as Queen of Colchis. It had been a repertoire that bored easily and Vangelis had stopped hoping for a personal connection with a woman that didn't hold such expectations.

He had thought he had found that with Selene.

Such ignorance and surprise led to an instinctive reaction from Vangelis when his female friend reached up, knotted her hands behind his neck and pulled him down to claim his mouth with hers. His eyes widening, his stance freezing and his arms braced outwards to maintain his balance, Vangelis could do little but allow his mind to catalogue his senses in a state of shock...

His nose was immediate assaulted by the scent of lavender and rose, the softness of her gown and skin felt hot against his chest and neck (both so soft against his dirty physique that he couldn't tell where silk ended and naked skin began), and his mouth was taken ownership of by a set of lips still more so that moved with an untutored eagerness against him that his mouth respond just a little in order to offer them a softer landing than simply bashing his mouth against his own teeth. Vangelis would have shut his eyes, as was natural, if he wasn't distracted by the soft fluttering of blonde eyelashes that were now the only thing he could see.

Vangelis was utterly unsure what to do - for his mind had already fractured into three. The smallest part of a sense of disappointment. The friend he had found in Selene; the one who expected nothing in terms of political unions flickered a little; the image of her in his mind feeling tainted by the idea that she had been after something from him for the duration of their friendship. Not that he thought her to be deliberately calculating - it was not in her nature - but the thought that she had been subconsciously wanting something from him that he had not been providing made him feel shame and disappointment. A slightly larger section of his mind - the part most male - was not very aware of the fact that he now had an insanely beautiful woman throwing herself at him. That part of his mind was having no difficulties working out exactly which physical responses were appropriate for such a moment. Neither mindset was able to take control of his actions, however, as the third and largest part of his mind was one of abject shock.

How had they gotten from Selene feeling insulted at his word choice to her kissing him in the space of a moment?

Having no idea what to do, Vangelis' hands were awkward as they moved to find a place on Selene's upper arms. Whether to push her away, draw her closer or just hold her still so that she couldn't surprise him with something else, Vangelis wasn't entirely sure because he wasn't given the chance to find out as, about two heartbeats after she had launched herself forward, Selene was pulling away...

Whilst Vangelis' mind struggled to keep up with what was happening around him - first her was having a pleasant conversation with Selene, then she'd become mad and now she was kissing him - the confusion only grew more apparent when she pulled away sharply, her expression clearly reading a state of horrified terror. Vangelis, had no idea what expression his own features were creating - for he had never paid much attention to how he came across in social situations - but it was most likely his standard scowl of focus, seeing as his mind was desperately trying to work out exactly what was occurring - both in Selene's mind and in reality.

For now, she appeared angry again. Whether this was at him - he had never had any complaints regarding his kisses before, but then what had just transpired had hardly given him the opportunity to show that but then there was still whatever he had said to upset her before that - or at herself for initiating the kiss, Vangelis wasn't initially certain. But her look of panic, the darting way her eyes refused to make contact and the words of apology that stumbled from her lips, gave him his answer quickly enough.

Was she embarrassed at having broken social protocol and kissed him when they had not yet established such a relationship? Or was she annoyed that such a kiss had been executed in the manner it was? Or was she annoyed that she had done it at all and was now regretting her decision to show that there might have been anything romantic in her thoughts towards him at all? Vangelis felt his brow drop lower as his thoughts turned over themselves. He hated social rules and awkwardness. Why couldn't people just say what they meant and do what they meant? But alas, it was not the world they lived in. And there was nothing Vangelis could do besides allow his hands to drop from her arms as Selene stepped hurriedly backwards, clearly distressed.

Completely uncertain of how the course of events had led to Selene's kiss, Vangelis was at little hope of working out exactly how the placate the woman now. Had he known the thoughts that had gotten her here, he might have been able to help alleviate some of the concerns but as he was completely in the dark, his mouth stayed firmly shut, out of the prediction that anything he said now would simply make the situation worse. He had many talents, but handling situations with any more tact than that of a military commander had never been one of them. And he was sure to only escalate her distress if he forced her to explain what had just happened.

The only thing Vangelis did, in an effort to calm her, was to speak her name as she rushed to her horse, clearly intent on leaving...

"Selene..." The name was spoken in a tone of calming rationalism and he hoped it would get her to stay her attempts at leaving and turn to speak with him...

Having arrived in the Dimitrou lodgings just a few days ago, Nike had had her work cut out for her. Not even notified beforehand that the bloody Queen of Athenia was in residence, now not only did she have all monarchs under one house to worry about, she didn't have enough men to cover the ground. With the monarch's all doing their own matters, and Asia, Dorothea and Imeeya finding an easy niche to chatter by themselves, it was with much gratefulness that Nike made her excuses to be taken away from watching over the youngest Kotas princess, to instead secure the Dimitrou grounds.

It wasn't that she did not trust Lord Gavriil. Far from it. In fact, from the brief conversation she's had with Vangelis before, she knew of the old lord and how he was a trusted royal house within the Taengean nobility, and she did not worry over much within the house. However, it was not a province nor a house built to secure the safety of prince and Queen's. Not used to the Taengean built that was more for lands and less for protection, Nike found herself antsy till she could get a good lay of the land.

Because otherwise, she had little else to do.

It didn't help that being back in Taengea always made Nike antsy, and when a military-trained person was antsy, they had to do something. Which was why most days found Nike riding out, to train at a field nearby in Meganea, or if just to do a perimetre stroll of the land to ensure nothing untoward or suspicious had popped up. She had arranged for round the clock guards to patrol as well as to guard the doors and windows of her royal family that was under her protection, but Nike was a natural worrier by nature.

That afternoon had seen the Commander out to train with her claymore as usual, the heavy sword becoming more and more second nature to her. The woman barely brought out her usual sword anymore, and had plans to bequeath it to someone else more in need of the usual longsword once she returned to Colchian soil. The claymore was permanently strapped to her back on her duty, and Nike grinned when her men tried to pick it up - it wasn't as light as a usual longsword, but she had not spent the past four months training with it for no reason.

Astride a horse she had loaned from the Dimitrou stables (a fine specimen, and Nike wondered if Vangelis would accept her request for a Taengean steed if she were to ask for one), the Commander was just returning from her training session when a dashing horse out of the manor. The blonde lady astride the steed did not even notice Nike as she rode o ut, but the Commander couldn't help but follow the hunched figure with a curious gaze, and then followed her trail back... to find her General staring, looking quite perplexed.

Her brows knitted. Was that not Selene of Leventi? If she were not wrong, the blonde lady had been a guest in their Kotas manor not too long back. Had they not been friends? Why was she now leaving while Vangelis looked as if he had been smacked by a tree?

What had her idiot general done now?

Clicking at her horse, the woman slid off the back of her horse once she neared Vangelis, her pants and leather tunic riding up a little before she pulled it down, and then called out at her friend. "Why was Lady Selene leaving in such a hurry, Vangelis?" Nike's tone was curious, her features even more so as she took left the horse to its own devices, and took a couple of steps closer to Vangelis. Noticing his somewhat blank look, Nike waved a hand in front of Vangelis, as if trying to catch his attention. "Did something happen? She didn't look too happy."

If she had to put words to it, Nike would say that her general currently looked like a fish out of the water, with the way he kept gaping as he did. When Vangelis's eyes finally flickered over to apparently take notice of her presence, she leaned back on her haunches, arms crossed in front of her chest as she nodded, as if saying 'please keep it short'.

Was she surprised? Well... yes, and no. She would've been blind to not know that the lady from Taengea who had taken up temporary residence in the Kotas manor due to weather conditions just a month or so back, had taken a fancy to her general. In truth, Nike would understand why the most. She knew that under that rough, rock-like exterior that was her general, Vangelis had a heart of gold and a sense of responsibility that far outstripped his own personal need, making him quite possibly the most selfless man she's ever known. When you add that to the fact that he was hardworking as well as loyal, you've got a mixture of a man that was hard to not love... once you got to know him that is.

And that was what Selene had the chance to do, when she resided within the Kotas manor. So again, the Commander was not surprised. But what she was surprised with however, was that she had not been happy kissing Vangelis? Nike was no expert in love and relations, considering she's done absolutely nothing to further her own feelings, but that was because the woman was military trained to precision, and realistic to boot. Her upbringing in life meant Nike had no time to spend on fantasizing life outside of who she was, and that she had any chance, even if she did feel affectionate to her General. Out in the battlefield where they fought back against back, there was no chance for this, and Nike was more then clear of the fact.

So none of her own feelings ever showed. Instead, her brows raised, curiosity mingled with confusion as she tossed a look over her shoulder at the gate that Selene of Leventi had just dissapeared through, and then back to ask an incredulous question. "Why?" It was obvious from the tone of Nike's voice that she did not get her unhappiness. "Nothing interesting. But back to the question at hand - what in the world happened for her to be unhappy?" The Commander was not about to let the topic go, because she was fairly certain that while Vangelis had no clue of his own emotions (what's new for him anyway), it was something, from what Nike has seen over the past month or so. What went wrong?