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Achilleas had closed the door behind himself, waving off the concerns of the servants who hovered outside,flustered by seeing the prince being carried by the lord who had refused all their help. That it was hardly the first time Stephanos had been returned to his chambers in such a way seemed to escape this particular staff, and they were clucking like mother hens.
For the dark-haired lord, non too-impressed with his cousin that night, it was a little frustrating. Or at least it was until he saw a way to use it to his benefit. Achilleas was just indulging himself by leaving specific instructions to have his cousin woken very early - because he’d earned that misery, at least - when the servant he was addressing glanced over his shoulder, and the lord turned to see the younger of the two princesses approaching.
Surprised to see Gianna up and about at such an hour, he turned and offered her a small bow before reading the concern in her expression and making an educated guess as to what would bring her hurrying toward her brother’s room at this hour.
“He’s fine” Achilleas offered, before pausing and considering. “Well, no...he’s had far too much to drink or..smoke or something, but aside that has been his usual, charming self." There was only the slightest hint of wryness in the lord’s words as he said that, a slight press of his lips as he finished, but it was gone when he moved on to say “ He’s passed out in bed. You’ll get no sense out of him now”
In contrast, the elder of Irakles’ sons seemed sober as anything. Any effects of what little Achilleas had drank had been shocked out of his system when he stumbled across Stephanos, and now he was just a little weary if anything. His days started early by choice, and it was coming up on seventeen hours since he’d seen his bed.
But Gianna still looked worried, so he smiled gently and pushed aside his own fatigue. “If you are not retiring straight away yourself, ptisane wouldn’t go amiss.” He looked at the younger woman more closely then, some curiosity as he asked “Did you not go to the festivities today?”
He wished that he had not, all things considered. Whilst certainly not willing to risk earning the God’s - or his father’s - ire through not showing his face at the festival, it was not Achilleas’ natural habitat. He didn’t tend to drink much, if at all, and so the prospect of being the most sober person at the temple had already filled him with dread before he’d even arrived. That he’d then found Stephanos in such a… well, Achilleas couldn’t decide quite what to think about the discovery he’d made. He darted a glance up at Gianna again and pushed the memory aside because it most certainly was not a thing he was going to discuss with his sweet young cousin.
Hoping she would not ask him about the evening, he fell into step beside the princess, measuring his longer stride so as not to hurry her. Gianna was probably the one of his cousins that he knew the least well, ten years between them in age meant that she’d been too young to run around with Zacharias and Stephanos and he and Emilios when they were younger. Being that little bit older, Xene had managed to talk her way into their company at times, but Gianna - the most sheltered of the king’s children - was not someone he’d spent much time with, outside of polite conversation at court.
Achilleas had a lot of time for the girl though, she seemed kind and uncomplicated, and that was enough to set the lord at ease in her company now, despite how tired he was.
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Achilleas had closed the door behind himself, waving off the concerns of the servants who hovered outside,flustered by seeing the prince being carried by the lord who had refused all their help. That it was hardly the first time Stephanos had been returned to his chambers in such a way seemed to escape this particular staff, and they were clucking like mother hens.
For the dark-haired lord, non too-impressed with his cousin that night, it was a little frustrating. Or at least it was until he saw a way to use it to his benefit. Achilleas was just indulging himself by leaving specific instructions to have his cousin woken very early - because he’d earned that misery, at least - when the servant he was addressing glanced over his shoulder, and the lord turned to see the younger of the two princesses approaching.
Surprised to see Gianna up and about at such an hour, he turned and offered her a small bow before reading the concern in her expression and making an educated guess as to what would bring her hurrying toward her brother’s room at this hour.
“He’s fine” Achilleas offered, before pausing and considering. “Well, no...he’s had far too much to drink or..smoke or something, but aside that has been his usual, charming self." There was only the slightest hint of wryness in the lord’s words as he said that, a slight press of his lips as he finished, but it was gone when he moved on to say “ He’s passed out in bed. You’ll get no sense out of him now”
In contrast, the elder of Irakles’ sons seemed sober as anything. Any effects of what little Achilleas had drank had been shocked out of his system when he stumbled across Stephanos, and now he was just a little weary if anything. His days started early by choice, and it was coming up on seventeen hours since he’d seen his bed.
But Gianna still looked worried, so he smiled gently and pushed aside his own fatigue. “If you are not retiring straight away yourself, ptisane wouldn’t go amiss.” He looked at the younger woman more closely then, some curiosity as he asked “Did you not go to the festivities today?”
He wished that he had not, all things considered. Whilst certainly not willing to risk earning the God’s - or his father’s - ire through not showing his face at the festival, it was not Achilleas’ natural habitat. He didn’t tend to drink much, if at all, and so the prospect of being the most sober person at the temple had already filled him with dread before he’d even arrived. That he’d then found Stephanos in such a… well, Achilleas couldn’t decide quite what to think about the discovery he’d made. He darted a glance up at Gianna again and pushed the memory aside because it most certainly was not a thing he was going to discuss with his sweet young cousin.
Hoping she would not ask him about the evening, he fell into step beside the princess, measuring his longer stride so as not to hurry her. Gianna was probably the one of his cousins that he knew the least well, ten years between them in age meant that she’d been too young to run around with Zacharias and Stephanos and he and Emilios when they were younger. Being that little bit older, Xene had managed to talk her way into their company at times, but Gianna - the most sheltered of the king’s children - was not someone he’d spent much time with, outside of polite conversation at court.
Achilleas had a lot of time for the girl though, she seemed kind and uncomplicated, and that was enough to set the lord at ease in her company now, despite how tired he was.
Achilleas had closed the door behind himself, waving off the concerns of the servants who hovered outside,flustered by seeing the prince being carried by the lord who had refused all their help. That it was hardly the first time Stephanos had been returned to his chambers in such a way seemed to escape this particular staff, and they were clucking like mother hens.
For the dark-haired lord, non too-impressed with his cousin that night, it was a little frustrating. Or at least it was until he saw a way to use it to his benefit. Achilleas was just indulging himself by leaving specific instructions to have his cousin woken very early - because he’d earned that misery, at least - when the servant he was addressing glanced over his shoulder, and the lord turned to see the younger of the two princesses approaching.
Surprised to see Gianna up and about at such an hour, he turned and offered her a small bow before reading the concern in her expression and making an educated guess as to what would bring her hurrying toward her brother’s room at this hour.
“He’s fine” Achilleas offered, before pausing and considering. “Well, no...he’s had far too much to drink or..smoke or something, but aside that has been his usual, charming self." There was only the slightest hint of wryness in the lord’s words as he said that, a slight press of his lips as he finished, but it was gone when he moved on to say “ He’s passed out in bed. You’ll get no sense out of him now”
In contrast, the elder of Irakles’ sons seemed sober as anything. Any effects of what little Achilleas had drank had been shocked out of his system when he stumbled across Stephanos, and now he was just a little weary if anything. His days started early by choice, and it was coming up on seventeen hours since he’d seen his bed.
But Gianna still looked worried, so he smiled gently and pushed aside his own fatigue. “If you are not retiring straight away yourself, ptisane wouldn’t go amiss.” He looked at the younger woman more closely then, some curiosity as he asked “Did you not go to the festivities today?”
He wished that he had not, all things considered. Whilst certainly not willing to risk earning the God’s - or his father’s - ire through not showing his face at the festival, it was not Achilleas’ natural habitat. He didn’t tend to drink much, if at all, and so the prospect of being the most sober person at the temple had already filled him with dread before he’d even arrived. That he’d then found Stephanos in such a… well, Achilleas couldn’t decide quite what to think about the discovery he’d made. He darted a glance up at Gianna again and pushed the memory aside because it most certainly was not a thing he was going to discuss with his sweet young cousin.
Hoping she would not ask him about the evening, he fell into step beside the princess, measuring his longer stride so as not to hurry her. Gianna was probably the one of his cousins that he knew the least well, ten years between them in age meant that she’d been too young to run around with Zacharias and Stephanos and he and Emilios when they were younger. Being that little bit older, Xene had managed to talk her way into their company at times, but Gianna - the most sheltered of the king’s children - was not someone he’d spent much time with, outside of polite conversation at court.
Achilleas had a lot of time for the girl though, she seemed kind and uncomplicated, and that was enough to set the lord at ease in her company now, despite how tired he was.
With the Festival of Dionysus scheduled earlier that day, Gianna had taken care to make her sacrifices to the god and return to the palatí before the revels became unruly. Having been satisfied with her own, very minor involvement, the princess had retired early. So why was she wandering the halls in her dressing gown long after the rest of the household had retreated?
Initially, she had gone in search of the kitchen and a late night snack, but had found herself distracted from her hunger by a commotion in the dark. The young blonde followed her ears and witnessed her eldest cousin emerging from her brother’s chambers. Knowing Stephanos and his proclivities, Gianna could not fight the knot that began to form in the pit of her stomach and so she hurried to Achilleas, desperate for news of her brother’s condition.
She was briefly caught off guard by the man’s bow—propriety had never been her strong suit—and returned his gesture with a quick dip of her own head. She opened her mouth to ask about Stephanos but Achilleas must have known it was coming as he answered her before she even had the chance to speak.
“He’s fine. Well, no...he’s had too much to drink or...smoke or something, but aside that has been his usual, charming self.” The princess glanced to her brother’s door, considering whether she should see to his well-being herself, when her cousin’s voice cut through her thoughts once more. “He’s passed out in bed. You’ll get no sense out of him now.”
Her eyes wandered once more to the ornate door separating Stephanos from the small audience congregating in the hall before scanning the man in front of her. Achilleas certainly appeared to be sober. If anything, she believed he was likely exhausted from the day's events and having to tend to her brother. She allowed her mind to wander momentarily, concerned with the mess Stephanos had undoubtedly created that evening.
“If you are not retiring straight away yourself, ptisane wouldn’t go amiss.”
At her cousin’s suggestion, Gianna’s body seemed to remember her original mission and the dread she previously felt was suddenly replaced with an aching hunger. “Wonderful idea, cousin,” she murmured and nodded in agreement, directing the remaining servants to return to their duties. From what Achilleas said, they had no further business gathering outside the prince’s room as there was no more anyone could do for Stephanos that evening.
“Did you not go to the festivities today?”
“It is not—no...it is my preference to worship in a less public manner.” This was not necessarily a lie. While Gianna had no reservations about attending festivals, she was far less inclined to participate at the level of other members of the nobility. As a princess, she had been raised to exhibit poise at all times, particularly when surrounded by the peerage, but she had always found it difficult to balance her training with her natural tendencies to forego decorum altogether. “I was there, briefly, long enough to offer my sacrifices and say my prayers. I dare not invite divine retribution of any sort.”
Her eyes found her cousin’s as he fell into step beside her and a sympathetic smile tugged ever so slightly at her lips as she continued, “I would ask how it went, but I see where your own evening has led.” A laugh danced behind her doe eyes as the pair made their way into the kitchens. She took note of the kettle in the hearth and was pleasantly surprised to see a kitchen maid bustling about. “Idalia, Lord Achilleas and I would like ptisane before bed, then you may retire.”
The older woman jumped at the sound of Gianna’s voice in the previously empty kitchen. With wide eyes, she turned to the princess and dropped into a low bow as she asked, “Would your Highness like anything to eat as well?”
Gianna looked to Achilleas for the answer. While she could certainly find a place for some bread or cheese, she did not wish to trouble the woman any more than was necessary. With her instructions, Idalia began puttering about. There was a quiet comfort to be found in her mundane activity. The princess positioned herself near the hearth and tugged her blonde braid over shoulder, twirling the loose end around her finger tip as she studied her cousin.
Her cousins and siblings had always felt...distant. No matter how much Zacharias watched her like a hawk in court, no matter how many gifts Stephanos gave her, or how often Xene showered her with loving words, she was always left feeling the years between them. She knew it was out of love, but even that was not enough to quell her desire to be included in something she had largely observed for most of her young life.
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With the Festival of Dionysus scheduled earlier that day, Gianna had taken care to make her sacrifices to the god and return to the palatí before the revels became unruly. Having been satisfied with her own, very minor involvement, the princess had retired early. So why was she wandering the halls in her dressing gown long after the rest of the household had retreated?
Initially, she had gone in search of the kitchen and a late night snack, but had found herself distracted from her hunger by a commotion in the dark. The young blonde followed her ears and witnessed her eldest cousin emerging from her brother’s chambers. Knowing Stephanos and his proclivities, Gianna could not fight the knot that began to form in the pit of her stomach and so she hurried to Achilleas, desperate for news of her brother’s condition.
She was briefly caught off guard by the man’s bow—propriety had never been her strong suit—and returned his gesture with a quick dip of her own head. She opened her mouth to ask about Stephanos but Achilleas must have known it was coming as he answered her before she even had the chance to speak.
“He’s fine. Well, no...he’s had too much to drink or...smoke or something, but aside that has been his usual, charming self.” The princess glanced to her brother’s door, considering whether she should see to his well-being herself, when her cousin’s voice cut through her thoughts once more. “He’s passed out in bed. You’ll get no sense out of him now.”
Her eyes wandered once more to the ornate door separating Stephanos from the small audience congregating in the hall before scanning the man in front of her. Achilleas certainly appeared to be sober. If anything, she believed he was likely exhausted from the day's events and having to tend to her brother. She allowed her mind to wander momentarily, concerned with the mess Stephanos had undoubtedly created that evening.
“If you are not retiring straight away yourself, ptisane wouldn’t go amiss.”
At her cousin’s suggestion, Gianna’s body seemed to remember her original mission and the dread she previously felt was suddenly replaced with an aching hunger. “Wonderful idea, cousin,” she murmured and nodded in agreement, directing the remaining servants to return to their duties. From what Achilleas said, they had no further business gathering outside the prince’s room as there was no more anyone could do for Stephanos that evening.
“Did you not go to the festivities today?”
“It is not—no...it is my preference to worship in a less public manner.” This was not necessarily a lie. While Gianna had no reservations about attending festivals, she was far less inclined to participate at the level of other members of the nobility. As a princess, she had been raised to exhibit poise at all times, particularly when surrounded by the peerage, but she had always found it difficult to balance her training with her natural tendencies to forego decorum altogether. “I was there, briefly, long enough to offer my sacrifices and say my prayers. I dare not invite divine retribution of any sort.”
Her eyes found her cousin’s as he fell into step beside her and a sympathetic smile tugged ever so slightly at her lips as she continued, “I would ask how it went, but I see where your own evening has led.” A laugh danced behind her doe eyes as the pair made their way into the kitchens. She took note of the kettle in the hearth and was pleasantly surprised to see a kitchen maid bustling about. “Idalia, Lord Achilleas and I would like ptisane before bed, then you may retire.”
The older woman jumped at the sound of Gianna’s voice in the previously empty kitchen. With wide eyes, she turned to the princess and dropped into a low bow as she asked, “Would your Highness like anything to eat as well?”
Gianna looked to Achilleas for the answer. While she could certainly find a place for some bread or cheese, she did not wish to trouble the woman any more than was necessary. With her instructions, Idalia began puttering about. There was a quiet comfort to be found in her mundane activity. The princess positioned herself near the hearth and tugged her blonde braid over shoulder, twirling the loose end around her finger tip as she studied her cousin.
Her cousins and siblings had always felt...distant. No matter how much Zacharias watched her like a hawk in court, no matter how many gifts Stephanos gave her, or how often Xene showered her with loving words, she was always left feeling the years between them. She knew it was out of love, but even that was not enough to quell her desire to be included in something she had largely observed for most of her young life.
With the Festival of Dionysus scheduled earlier that day, Gianna had taken care to make her sacrifices to the god and return to the palatí before the revels became unruly. Having been satisfied with her own, very minor involvement, the princess had retired early. So why was she wandering the halls in her dressing gown long after the rest of the household had retreated?
Initially, she had gone in search of the kitchen and a late night snack, but had found herself distracted from her hunger by a commotion in the dark. The young blonde followed her ears and witnessed her eldest cousin emerging from her brother’s chambers. Knowing Stephanos and his proclivities, Gianna could not fight the knot that began to form in the pit of her stomach and so she hurried to Achilleas, desperate for news of her brother’s condition.
She was briefly caught off guard by the man’s bow—propriety had never been her strong suit—and returned his gesture with a quick dip of her own head. She opened her mouth to ask about Stephanos but Achilleas must have known it was coming as he answered her before she even had the chance to speak.
“He’s fine. Well, no...he’s had too much to drink or...smoke or something, but aside that has been his usual, charming self.” The princess glanced to her brother’s door, considering whether she should see to his well-being herself, when her cousin’s voice cut through her thoughts once more. “He’s passed out in bed. You’ll get no sense out of him now.”
Her eyes wandered once more to the ornate door separating Stephanos from the small audience congregating in the hall before scanning the man in front of her. Achilleas certainly appeared to be sober. If anything, she believed he was likely exhausted from the day's events and having to tend to her brother. She allowed her mind to wander momentarily, concerned with the mess Stephanos had undoubtedly created that evening.
“If you are not retiring straight away yourself, ptisane wouldn’t go amiss.”
At her cousin’s suggestion, Gianna’s body seemed to remember her original mission and the dread she previously felt was suddenly replaced with an aching hunger. “Wonderful idea, cousin,” she murmured and nodded in agreement, directing the remaining servants to return to their duties. From what Achilleas said, they had no further business gathering outside the prince’s room as there was no more anyone could do for Stephanos that evening.
“Did you not go to the festivities today?”
“It is not—no...it is my preference to worship in a less public manner.” This was not necessarily a lie. While Gianna had no reservations about attending festivals, she was far less inclined to participate at the level of other members of the nobility. As a princess, she had been raised to exhibit poise at all times, particularly when surrounded by the peerage, but she had always found it difficult to balance her training with her natural tendencies to forego decorum altogether. “I was there, briefly, long enough to offer my sacrifices and say my prayers. I dare not invite divine retribution of any sort.”
Her eyes found her cousin’s as he fell into step beside her and a sympathetic smile tugged ever so slightly at her lips as she continued, “I would ask how it went, but I see where your own evening has led.” A laugh danced behind her doe eyes as the pair made their way into the kitchens. She took note of the kettle in the hearth and was pleasantly surprised to see a kitchen maid bustling about. “Idalia, Lord Achilleas and I would like ptisane before bed, then you may retire.”
The older woman jumped at the sound of Gianna’s voice in the previously empty kitchen. With wide eyes, she turned to the princess and dropped into a low bow as she asked, “Would your Highness like anything to eat as well?”
Gianna looked to Achilleas for the answer. While she could certainly find a place for some bread or cheese, she did not wish to trouble the woman any more than was necessary. With her instructions, Idalia began puttering about. There was a quiet comfort to be found in her mundane activity. The princess positioned herself near the hearth and tugged her blonde braid over shoulder, twirling the loose end around her finger tip as she studied her cousin.
Her cousins and siblings had always felt...distant. No matter how much Zacharias watched her like a hawk in court, no matter how many gifts Stephanos gave her, or how often Xene showered her with loving words, she was always left feeling the years between them. She knew it was out of love, but even that was not enough to quell her desire to be included in something she had largely observed for most of her young life.
Achilleas was pleased when the princess seemed to take him at his word, and the uneasiness slid from her face. It was hardly out of character behaviour for her brother - at least, not the part she was aware of - so he had hoped her concern would be settled without too much effort. With any luck, she would think no more of it, and he wouldn’t have to mind his tongue.
He watched as Gianna smartly dismissed the servants who lingered and then began to lead him through the palati toward the kitchens, explaining as she went that she had paid her homage to Dionysus earlier in the day. Achilleas made a note of that; perhaps it was a technique he might also adopt next time the festival came around. Whilst he might have been a fraction removed from the crown compared to his cousin, Irakles would accept nothing other than perfection from his firstborn, and so Achilleas was not immune to feeling the pressure to keep his behaviours exemplary. “Quite sensible” he replied with a small smile as they made their way through the halls of the palati.
At Gianna’s mention of his own evening, the Mikaelidas lord managed a slightly uneasy laugh of his own, following it up with a resigned sort of shrug. It was not uncommon, after all, for him to be the last one standing of an evening given that he didn’t tend to partake in the vices the prince sometimes indulged in. But he was glad when they reached the kitchens, and he was spared having to give a more detailed account of his evening.
“No, thank you, nothing else for me” the lord replied when the kitchen maid enquired as to whether they wished any additional refreshments. Not knowing if Gianna planned for them to stay the kitchens or take their tea elsewhere, Achilleas hovered a little uncertainly as the maid began to bustle about heating water until eventually, he turned a question to his younger cousin just to fill the silence.
“So what have you been up to, Gianna? Save for wisely avoiding the messy end of the festival to Dionysus?”
With most of his time spent away from the city in his barony, Achilleas was not always close to court news and gossip. Though he would not admit it because it would only enrage his father, he much preferred the sleepy, friendly town where he made his home in Euttica. Stripped of the intrigues and duplicity that could be found amongst the court in Vasiliadon, the lord appreciated the straightforward nature that he found in most of his subjects, and they, in turn, had warmed to the son of the great General, who could not be more different from the man himself. Whilst not the loudest or the most convivial, the Mikaelidas lord was fair and most generous in his dealings with his barony's populace. In Vasiladon, Achilleas felt his father’s attention most keenly, and his efforts not to draw criticism had him tense and therefore more clumsy, a poor combination indeed.
When the maid finished steeping mint and oregano in the honey-infused barley water and set the two cups on the large wide table in the kitchen, Achilleas waited for Gianna to sit before he followed suit, wrapping his big hands around the warm stoneware and stifling a yawn as he did so.
“You’ll have to forgive me. I had an early start...I always forget that going anywhere with your brother seems to guarantee a return when I am usually abed.”
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Achilleas was pleased when the princess seemed to take him at his word, and the uneasiness slid from her face. It was hardly out of character behaviour for her brother - at least, not the part she was aware of - so he had hoped her concern would be settled without too much effort. With any luck, she would think no more of it, and he wouldn’t have to mind his tongue.
He watched as Gianna smartly dismissed the servants who lingered and then began to lead him through the palati toward the kitchens, explaining as she went that she had paid her homage to Dionysus earlier in the day. Achilleas made a note of that; perhaps it was a technique he might also adopt next time the festival came around. Whilst he might have been a fraction removed from the crown compared to his cousin, Irakles would accept nothing other than perfection from his firstborn, and so Achilleas was not immune to feeling the pressure to keep his behaviours exemplary. “Quite sensible” he replied with a small smile as they made their way through the halls of the palati.
At Gianna’s mention of his own evening, the Mikaelidas lord managed a slightly uneasy laugh of his own, following it up with a resigned sort of shrug. It was not uncommon, after all, for him to be the last one standing of an evening given that he didn’t tend to partake in the vices the prince sometimes indulged in. But he was glad when they reached the kitchens, and he was spared having to give a more detailed account of his evening.
“No, thank you, nothing else for me” the lord replied when the kitchen maid enquired as to whether they wished any additional refreshments. Not knowing if Gianna planned for them to stay the kitchens or take their tea elsewhere, Achilleas hovered a little uncertainly as the maid began to bustle about heating water until eventually, he turned a question to his younger cousin just to fill the silence.
“So what have you been up to, Gianna? Save for wisely avoiding the messy end of the festival to Dionysus?”
With most of his time spent away from the city in his barony, Achilleas was not always close to court news and gossip. Though he would not admit it because it would only enrage his father, he much preferred the sleepy, friendly town where he made his home in Euttica. Stripped of the intrigues and duplicity that could be found amongst the court in Vasiliadon, the lord appreciated the straightforward nature that he found in most of his subjects, and they, in turn, had warmed to the son of the great General, who could not be more different from the man himself. Whilst not the loudest or the most convivial, the Mikaelidas lord was fair and most generous in his dealings with his barony's populace. In Vasiladon, Achilleas felt his father’s attention most keenly, and his efforts not to draw criticism had him tense and therefore more clumsy, a poor combination indeed.
When the maid finished steeping mint and oregano in the honey-infused barley water and set the two cups on the large wide table in the kitchen, Achilleas waited for Gianna to sit before he followed suit, wrapping his big hands around the warm stoneware and stifling a yawn as he did so.
“You’ll have to forgive me. I had an early start...I always forget that going anywhere with your brother seems to guarantee a return when I am usually abed.”
Achilleas was pleased when the princess seemed to take him at his word, and the uneasiness slid from her face. It was hardly out of character behaviour for her brother - at least, not the part she was aware of - so he had hoped her concern would be settled without too much effort. With any luck, she would think no more of it, and he wouldn’t have to mind his tongue.
He watched as Gianna smartly dismissed the servants who lingered and then began to lead him through the palati toward the kitchens, explaining as she went that she had paid her homage to Dionysus earlier in the day. Achilleas made a note of that; perhaps it was a technique he might also adopt next time the festival came around. Whilst he might have been a fraction removed from the crown compared to his cousin, Irakles would accept nothing other than perfection from his firstborn, and so Achilleas was not immune to feeling the pressure to keep his behaviours exemplary. “Quite sensible” he replied with a small smile as they made their way through the halls of the palati.
At Gianna’s mention of his own evening, the Mikaelidas lord managed a slightly uneasy laugh of his own, following it up with a resigned sort of shrug. It was not uncommon, after all, for him to be the last one standing of an evening given that he didn’t tend to partake in the vices the prince sometimes indulged in. But he was glad when they reached the kitchens, and he was spared having to give a more detailed account of his evening.
“No, thank you, nothing else for me” the lord replied when the kitchen maid enquired as to whether they wished any additional refreshments. Not knowing if Gianna planned for them to stay the kitchens or take their tea elsewhere, Achilleas hovered a little uncertainly as the maid began to bustle about heating water until eventually, he turned a question to his younger cousin just to fill the silence.
“So what have you been up to, Gianna? Save for wisely avoiding the messy end of the festival to Dionysus?”
With most of his time spent away from the city in his barony, Achilleas was not always close to court news and gossip. Though he would not admit it because it would only enrage his father, he much preferred the sleepy, friendly town where he made his home in Euttica. Stripped of the intrigues and duplicity that could be found amongst the court in Vasiliadon, the lord appreciated the straightforward nature that he found in most of his subjects, and they, in turn, had warmed to the son of the great General, who could not be more different from the man himself. Whilst not the loudest or the most convivial, the Mikaelidas lord was fair and most generous in his dealings with his barony's populace. In Vasiladon, Achilleas felt his father’s attention most keenly, and his efforts not to draw criticism had him tense and therefore more clumsy, a poor combination indeed.
When the maid finished steeping mint and oregano in the honey-infused barley water and set the two cups on the large wide table in the kitchen, Achilleas waited for Gianna to sit before he followed suit, wrapping his big hands around the warm stoneware and stifling a yawn as he did so.
“You’ll have to forgive me. I had an early start...I always forget that going anywhere with your brother seems to guarantee a return when I am usually abed.”
