Rumors swirled that Princess Emilia was nearly on her death bed with an unnamed illness. The whole court knew what a close eye Lord Elias kept on the girl and though courtiers have come and gone to see her, they were nearly all prevented. Happily, the princess seems to have recovered her strength and has been seen strolling the promenade in the company of Lord Alehandros, Master Informer Cicero, Lord Aimias, and guards Hector of Arcana and her body guard, Lesley. Lord Elias was strangely absent and his absence brought some relief to those who whispered he sought power for himself with the regency. Thankfully, at the last court session, Elias posed his public support for the princess to take the throne if her sister could not be found or proved unfit. Proving herself able in her own right, Princess Emilia chose to uphold the treaty between the Greek kingdoms and sent troops to aid Taengea and Colchis in the war against Egypt. Now she has called a court session in which she, not her aunt Circenia, nor her aunt Sera, is ruling. She sits on the throne, young but bright eyed, flanked by Lords Alehandros on one side and Lord Elias on the other. Both men are grim but Emilia shines as bright and effervescent as ever. All members of the prominent nobility have been summoned to attend. Servants have been hired from the common folk for this occasion to help bolster the ranks and move through with trays of food. There is quite an audience for Princess Emilia's first solo court session.
Change In The Winds Event - Athenia
Rumors swirled that Princess Emilia was nearly on her death bed with an unnamed illness. The whole court knew what a close eye Lord Elias kept on the girl and though courtiers have come and gone to see her, they were nearly all prevented. Happily, the princess seems to have recovered her strength and has been seen strolling the promenade in the company of Lord Alehandros, Master Informer Cicero, Lord Aimias, and guards Hector of Arcana and her body guard, Lesley. Lord Elias was strangely absent and his absence brought some relief to those who whispered he sought power for himself with the regency. Thankfully, at the last court session, Elias posed his public support for the princess to take the throne if her sister could not be found or proved unfit. Proving herself able in her own right, Princess Emilia chose to uphold the treaty between the Greek kingdoms and sent troops to aid Taengea and Colchis in the war against Egypt. Now she has called a court session in which she, not her aunt Circenia, nor her aunt Sera, is ruling. She sits on the throne, young but bright eyed, flanked by Lords Alehandros on one side and Lord Elias on the other. Both men are grim but Emilia shines as bright and effervescent as ever. All members of the prominent nobility have been summoned to attend. Servants have been hired from the common folk for this occasion to help bolster the ranks and move through with trays of food. There is quite an audience for Princess Emilia's first solo court session.
To say her world has been turned on it's axis over the last few days to week, would be an understatement. For Emilia, it was as if her old life when her father had been alive and her sister had been no further then an arm's length or a hallway away was but a fanciful dream of a life long ago. She hasn't felt this weary in years, or at all, even. Emilia had never been one who took up the cape of responsibility. She had always told Persephone how thankful she was at being born the second daughter, enjoying the trappings of a royal life without the need to take up roles of power and make decisions that would affect the lives of others.
Did the Gods hear her and decided to punish her? Or perhaps they simply wanted to play with her. Maybe Hermes had been bored lately, and simply wanted to mess around with her.
Yet, she knew what she had agreed upon must be done, and it had to be done by today itself. After many discussions with Cicero, Alehandros and Aimias, it was the best course of action... even if it wasn't her choice. Would her father be proud of her now? Perhaps she was more like Persephone then she imagined herself to be. She had always said she and her sister were night and day, with Persephone being the more responsible one of the two.
But the apple never falls far from the tree.
The court session was necessary, but even as she called for it, Emilia felt her hands shake. And now that it was in full swing just waiting for her entrance, the young princess merely wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. It was ridiculous. She had always thrived on being the center of attraction, her smile attracting far too many Athenian's... so why was she afraid of it now?Simply because her words now wielded power? Because now she no longer had someone she could look to, simply to check if what she was doing or saying at the moment was appropriate?
Biting her bottom lip, the brunette casted a look at Hebe, a silent question to ask her lady-in-waiting to check if her dress was all in the right place. It was superficial - she knew Hebe had done a great job. Persephone was a tad taller then Emilia, but between her and Hebe, they had managed to get the royal blue brocade to fit on her. Trimmed in golden and silver threads, the exquisite patterns of floral was muted with a sheer white sheet that was layered over the brocade, with both material held up over one shoulder with a golden fibulae. The other shoulder was left bare, and her brunette curls were swept to rest over this bare shoulder. Only part of her hair was pinned up, and it was upon the fastened hair that her crown sat upon, no longer the small circlets Emilia had always favored. Instead, this was one of royal status, from Persephone's own stash... and a crown had never felt heavier. Far heavier then the golden circles she wore on her wrist and bare upper arm.
It was only when she was certain that all had been right before Emilia had walked out to take a seat upon her throne. Elias had welcomed her, but Alehandros had been quick to escort her to her throne, quickly cutting away any words that the young lord could say to Emilia. Where was Lesley? As she took a seat upon the throne so foreign to her, the princess could not help but cast a searching gaze for her bodyguard. She had told him to take some time off, knowing he wanted to visit his mother and to do his own matters, but suddenly the princess felt quite unnerved by the lack of his presence, and as court proceeded to go on, every once in awhile, Emilia would still search the room, anxious to be unaccompanied by the ones more familiar with her, all while trying to field as many questions as she could whilst doing her best to smile.
To say her world has been turned on it's axis over the last few days to week, would be an understatement. For Emilia, it was as if her old life when her father had been alive and her sister had been no further then an arm's length or a hallway away was but a fanciful dream of a life long ago. She hasn't felt this weary in years, or at all, even. Emilia had never been one who took up the cape of responsibility. She had always told Persephone how thankful she was at being born the second daughter, enjoying the trappings of a royal life without the need to take up roles of power and make decisions that would affect the lives of others.
Did the Gods hear her and decided to punish her? Or perhaps they simply wanted to play with her. Maybe Hermes had been bored lately, and simply wanted to mess around with her.
Yet, she knew what she had agreed upon must be done, and it had to be done by today itself. After many discussions with Cicero, Alehandros and Aimias, it was the best course of action... even if it wasn't her choice. Would her father be proud of her now? Perhaps she was more like Persephone then she imagined herself to be. She had always said she and her sister were night and day, with Persephone being the more responsible one of the two.
But the apple never falls far from the tree.
The court session was necessary, but even as she called for it, Emilia felt her hands shake. And now that it was in full swing just waiting for her entrance, the young princess merely wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. It was ridiculous. She had always thrived on being the center of attraction, her smile attracting far too many Athenian's... so why was she afraid of it now?Simply because her words now wielded power? Because now she no longer had someone she could look to, simply to check if what she was doing or saying at the moment was appropriate?
Biting her bottom lip, the brunette casted a look at Hebe, a silent question to ask her lady-in-waiting to check if her dress was all in the right place. It was superficial - she knew Hebe had done a great job. Persephone was a tad taller then Emilia, but between her and Hebe, they had managed to get the royal blue brocade to fit on her. Trimmed in golden and silver threads, the exquisite patterns of floral was muted with a sheer white sheet that was layered over the brocade, with both material held up over one shoulder with a golden fibulae. The other shoulder was left bare, and her brunette curls were swept to rest over this bare shoulder. Only part of her hair was pinned up, and it was upon the fastened hair that her crown sat upon, no longer the small circlets Emilia had always favored. Instead, this was one of royal status, from Persephone's own stash... and a crown had never felt heavier. Far heavier then the golden circles she wore on her wrist and bare upper arm.
It was only when she was certain that all had been right before Emilia had walked out to take a seat upon her throne. Elias had welcomed her, but Alehandros had been quick to escort her to her throne, quickly cutting away any words that the young lord could say to Emilia. Where was Lesley? As she took a seat upon the throne so foreign to her, the princess could not help but cast a searching gaze for her bodyguard. She had told him to take some time off, knowing he wanted to visit his mother and to do his own matters, but suddenly the princess felt quite unnerved by the lack of his presence, and as court proceeded to go on, every once in awhile, Emilia would still search the room, anxious to be unaccompanied by the ones more familiar with her, all while trying to field as many questions as she could whilst doing her best to smile.
While Demi knew it wasn't at all safe for her in the capitol, and Hector had expressly asked her to return to Arcana after the riots, Demi found that she couldn't bring herself to just leave. Yet a bitter taste had remained in her mouth when a request had arrived for her to escort a Lord to the newest court session, purportedly held by the younger sister of the missing Queen - the same Queen that had been taking up residence in Hector's own quarters.
Did she want to agree to it? For all intents and purposes, Hector had assumed Demi had returned, but she had simply remained around with a friend of hers in the capitol. The pay was good, so long as she did not embarass this specific member of nobility she was meant to escord - and Lord Felipe did not seem bad, simply someone who wanted to remove harassing younger ladies from trying to catch his hand in marriage. Last Demi checked, he preferred those of his own gender.
So in her curiosity on what would be going on, especially with the amount of time Hector now spent in the royal quarters, Demi had agreed, if only to satisfy her own curiosity. Wondering if her lover would be in attendance as well, she had managed to get someone to bring one of her more exquisite outfits from her place back in Arcana, and as they had entered the Grand Hall, Demi had to momentarily remind herself she wasn't dressed in her usual clothes, but of the smoothest forest green material. Clipped over both her shoulders by a simple golden fibulae, the chiton went down to her ankles, whilst her hair was pinned up in soft curls, framing her lips painted red as she smiled on the arms of Lord Felipe.
Except, one had to remember Lord Felipe didn't want her company at all. She was afterall, but a distraction he had paid for. It wasn't long into the court session that Lord Felipe had left her to meet his more... closer friends, which left Demi quite conveniently alone. The woman had been counting on that, to be honest. Most of her clients required her attention at all times, but Lord Felipe clearly only wanted her as a smokescreen, and the moment he left her side, Demi could focus her attention on the other attendee's, clearly trying to see anyone of which she could recognize - and maybe, if she could try and not get spotted by Hector, that would be a bonus.
While Demi knew it wasn't at all safe for her in the capitol, and Hector had expressly asked her to return to Arcana after the riots, Demi found that she couldn't bring herself to just leave. Yet a bitter taste had remained in her mouth when a request had arrived for her to escort a Lord to the newest court session, purportedly held by the younger sister of the missing Queen - the same Queen that had been taking up residence in Hector's own quarters.
Did she want to agree to it? For all intents and purposes, Hector had assumed Demi had returned, but she had simply remained around with a friend of hers in the capitol. The pay was good, so long as she did not embarass this specific member of nobility she was meant to escord - and Lord Felipe did not seem bad, simply someone who wanted to remove harassing younger ladies from trying to catch his hand in marriage. Last Demi checked, he preferred those of his own gender.
So in her curiosity on what would be going on, especially with the amount of time Hector now spent in the royal quarters, Demi had agreed, if only to satisfy her own curiosity. Wondering if her lover would be in attendance as well, she had managed to get someone to bring one of her more exquisite outfits from her place back in Arcana, and as they had entered the Grand Hall, Demi had to momentarily remind herself she wasn't dressed in her usual clothes, but of the smoothest forest green material. Clipped over both her shoulders by a simple golden fibulae, the chiton went down to her ankles, whilst her hair was pinned up in soft curls, framing her lips painted red as she smiled on the arms of Lord Felipe.
Except, one had to remember Lord Felipe didn't want her company at all. She was afterall, but a distraction he had paid for. It wasn't long into the court session that Lord Felipe had left her to meet his more... closer friends, which left Demi quite conveniently alone. The woman had been counting on that, to be honest. Most of her clients required her attention at all times, but Lord Felipe clearly only wanted her as a smokescreen, and the moment he left her side, Demi could focus her attention on the other attendee's, clearly trying to see anyone of which she could recognize - and maybe, if she could try and not get spotted by Hector, that would be a bonus.
Athenia had changed drastically in the wake of the riots that had left the Inner Circle looted and burned. That much was not that hard to tell as the court gathered for the first time since the carnage that had ripped through their once safe city that had finally reached its breaking point.
Glancing around the room, Danae noticed that there wasn’t a single person in this room that didn’t bear some sort of scar from the riots that had shaken this untouchable group of people to their very core -- reminding them that they were just as human as those who lived beneath them. They were all the same fragile mortal beings whose large estates could burn just as quickly as the lowliest hovel in the poorer parts of the city. Some of the courtiers present had been lucky that day. They had been elsewhere and just came home to a scene of destruction where their safe havens had once been. Others were not so lucky. Danae had heard that others had died, but she did not know any of them personally.
Most of them though had been hurt in the same way that Danae had been hurt. They had escaped the riots with their lives intact, but still horribly injured. The youngest Stravos herself had nearly been skewered on the gates of the palati and had the wounds to prove it. Everything had been hidden tonight beneath piles of bright red fabric, a color that now reminded her too much of blood, but if she were to lift her skirts or roll up her sleeves? Ugly red marks from where she had been hit by stones and clawed by grubby hands, breaking her previously unmarked skin. Some of these wounds were almost finished in their healing process, Danae was just waiting for the nasty scabs to finally be done with their job so that she might be rid of the horrible reminders of what had happened to her. She longed for it to become no more than a painful memory, set aside in her mind until the day it faded away and she would never have to be reminded of the trauma she had faced that day. However, it was hard to do that when there were so many things that brought all the anger and frustration that came with such things roaring to the surface.
That’s all that had filled her after the dust had cleared and Danae had seen how utterly broken Sofia had been… but more importantly how flippant her brother was to the destruction. Elias had never really cared about anything that did not have a direct consequence on him and he really made a point to show that to his youngest sibling in the wake of the riot. Not once did he inquire about her condition in the days following the chaos and when he did finally see her -- Elias could not have pretended to care about how Danae was faring. All he could talk about what he was going to do to make himself look better in the wake of the riots. Had Danae not been on strict bed rest at the time, she likely would have stormed out of the room.
Since that moment, Danae stopped caring about what her family did in response to everything. Her eyes had been opened to how little she mattered to everyone so she could not be bothered to pretend that things were fine and that she was still all on board to make Elias king. She could see now that it didn’t matter that the Stravos was destined to have the throne in their hands one day, the boy they had decided was their champion was not fit for such a role and the youngest of the Anchors was tired of tying herself to a ship that was already sinking due solely to her bloodline. She was so tired of being burned and used as a pawn by everyone else. Danae was fed up with the notion that she was some sort of piece that could be gambled away at every turn. She was done.
Having the peasants rise up and try to kill her just because her bloodline had been the final straw.
As much as Danae wanted to get out the raging anger lurking beneath her skin by scorching the earth to a crisp, she knew that maybe making it publicly clear that she thought her brother was no better than a lame donkey was perhaps a bad idea. So, she had kept her mouth shut for now. Pretending that everything was fine as she buried herself in her work so she wouldn’t have to think about how messed up this whole situation was -- but she couldn’t do that tonight. Not during the same night that the court was meeting under the eye of Princess Emilia. Danae would have rathered done anything than be here tonight, pretending that life was cheery and grand, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She was a Stravos and the Stravos always attended such events. So, the sixteen-year-old was decked out in her usual crimson-colored garb and brought to the palati by her mother and sister.
However, as soon as Danae was out of her carriage, she had separated from Chara and Circenia. Instead, she was now darting about the crowd looking for an unlikely comrade in this whole mess; Sofia of Marikas. The poor girl had been nearly sacrificed with Danae and she had heard that she had not been doing as well as the younger ones in the wake of the riot. Granted, she could only assume that such things were rumors, but Danae needed to know for herself as she carried a large portion of the blame on her own shoulders for what had happened to her cousin. Had Danae not invited Sofia over, she never would have been caught up in the disaster and thus the youngest Stravos felt an odd sort of duty to check in with Sofia and make sure she was alright. It was the least she could do in the wake of such a horrible mess.
However, it was just a matter of finding her first as Danae wandered through the sea of courtiers, not knowing if her next conversation would be with the Marikas girl or someone else...
Athenia had changed drastically in the wake of the riots that had left the Inner Circle looted and burned. That much was not that hard to tell as the court gathered for the first time since the carnage that had ripped through their once safe city that had finally reached its breaking point.
Glancing around the room, Danae noticed that there wasn’t a single person in this room that didn’t bear some sort of scar from the riots that had shaken this untouchable group of people to their very core -- reminding them that they were just as human as those who lived beneath them. They were all the same fragile mortal beings whose large estates could burn just as quickly as the lowliest hovel in the poorer parts of the city. Some of the courtiers present had been lucky that day. They had been elsewhere and just came home to a scene of destruction where their safe havens had once been. Others were not so lucky. Danae had heard that others had died, but she did not know any of them personally.
Most of them though had been hurt in the same way that Danae had been hurt. They had escaped the riots with their lives intact, but still horribly injured. The youngest Stravos herself had nearly been skewered on the gates of the palati and had the wounds to prove it. Everything had been hidden tonight beneath piles of bright red fabric, a color that now reminded her too much of blood, but if she were to lift her skirts or roll up her sleeves? Ugly red marks from where she had been hit by stones and clawed by grubby hands, breaking her previously unmarked skin. Some of these wounds were almost finished in their healing process, Danae was just waiting for the nasty scabs to finally be done with their job so that she might be rid of the horrible reminders of what had happened to her. She longed for it to become no more than a painful memory, set aside in her mind until the day it faded away and she would never have to be reminded of the trauma she had faced that day. However, it was hard to do that when there were so many things that brought all the anger and frustration that came with such things roaring to the surface.
That’s all that had filled her after the dust had cleared and Danae had seen how utterly broken Sofia had been… but more importantly how flippant her brother was to the destruction. Elias had never really cared about anything that did not have a direct consequence on him and he really made a point to show that to his youngest sibling in the wake of the riot. Not once did he inquire about her condition in the days following the chaos and when he did finally see her -- Elias could not have pretended to care about how Danae was faring. All he could talk about what he was going to do to make himself look better in the wake of the riots. Had Danae not been on strict bed rest at the time, she likely would have stormed out of the room.
Since that moment, Danae stopped caring about what her family did in response to everything. Her eyes had been opened to how little she mattered to everyone so she could not be bothered to pretend that things were fine and that she was still all on board to make Elias king. She could see now that it didn’t matter that the Stravos was destined to have the throne in their hands one day, the boy they had decided was their champion was not fit for such a role and the youngest of the Anchors was tired of tying herself to a ship that was already sinking due solely to her bloodline. She was so tired of being burned and used as a pawn by everyone else. Danae was fed up with the notion that she was some sort of piece that could be gambled away at every turn. She was done.
Having the peasants rise up and try to kill her just because her bloodline had been the final straw.
As much as Danae wanted to get out the raging anger lurking beneath her skin by scorching the earth to a crisp, she knew that maybe making it publicly clear that she thought her brother was no better than a lame donkey was perhaps a bad idea. So, she had kept her mouth shut for now. Pretending that everything was fine as she buried herself in her work so she wouldn’t have to think about how messed up this whole situation was -- but she couldn’t do that tonight. Not during the same night that the court was meeting under the eye of Princess Emilia. Danae would have rathered done anything than be here tonight, pretending that life was cheery and grand, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She was a Stravos and the Stravos always attended such events. So, the sixteen-year-old was decked out in her usual crimson-colored garb and brought to the palati by her mother and sister.
However, as soon as Danae was out of her carriage, she had separated from Chara and Circenia. Instead, she was now darting about the crowd looking for an unlikely comrade in this whole mess; Sofia of Marikas. The poor girl had been nearly sacrificed with Danae and she had heard that she had not been doing as well as the younger ones in the wake of the riot. Granted, she could only assume that such things were rumors, but Danae needed to know for herself as she carried a large portion of the blame on her own shoulders for what had happened to her cousin. Had Danae not invited Sofia over, she never would have been caught up in the disaster and thus the youngest Stravos felt an odd sort of duty to check in with Sofia and make sure she was alright. It was the least she could do in the wake of such a horrible mess.
However, it was just a matter of finding her first as Danae wandered through the sea of courtiers, not knowing if her next conversation would be with the Marikas girl or someone else...
When Emilia had still been frozen and devastated in the aftermath of the riot, Lesley had been there, either in the room or right outside her door; when the princess had been confronted with the terrifying prospect of claiming the power and responsibility that was her birthright he'd been reassuringly within sight without even needing to turn her head whenever she'd been speaking to anyone but a slave. When she'd finally taken that power in hand, though, he would have asked leave if she hadn't sent him away on her own. Alehandros and Hector would be her sword and shield; he had others to look after as well - not to mention a pressing need to physically release his building anger and and equally pressing need to sleep.
When he returned to the palace, dark hair that had been falling into his eyes a few days ago was cropped as short as any young soldier's, his uniform was as freshly washed as his body, and the brand new bruises on his cheek and knuckles only served to help him blend in with the other guards who had been sent out to quell the riot. He was carrying the exact same equipment as the others, too, rather than his own; this was a court session, and Lesley was willing to make that much concession to formality.
He knew he was late, but he'd also decided it was more important to be calm and focused than anything else, and rushing would ruin the equilibrium he'd struggled so hard to regain, especially after a somewhat frustrating morning. There was always some idiot... nevermind. He'd hoped he wasn't too late, but he wasn't surprised to find that Emilia had already opened the court session. Some others might be happy to make a grand entrance after everyone was already present and impatient, but that wasn't really the young princess's style.
Lesley scanned the room as he slipped in through the servant's entrance. Elias was still standing beside Emilia, so he hadn't missed the main event. The princess seemed to be holding up well. Alert, perhaps a touch distracted, but not looking particularly nervous. Nothing that couldn't be attributed to simply feeling off-balance due to it being her first-ever court without her father and sister present. He decided not to advertise that he was late or risk her reaction if he approached her directly. She didn't need anyone wondering why she was smiling at a man little more than a slave right now. Instead, he tapped another guard on the shoulder and told him to take his ten minute break. There was no real schedule, after all; that man would relieve someone else when he came back, and they were all supposed to be paying attention enough that nobody got overlooked. Occasionally some idiot managed to annoy his entire cohort and spent an uncomfortable length of time without the chance to relieve himself, but for the most part the palace guard were chosen for being reliable, professionally-minded sorts. At least they could trade off at all, unlike the personal bodyguards of people who couldn't afford more than one.
For once, he wasn't too tempted to pace or fidget - though how long that would last depended entirely on how long he had to wait for the evening to get interesting - and with his tattoos completely covered, there wasn't much to draw the eye to this particular guard. He wasn't hidden or disguised, just... not obvious. Sneaky? A hidden dagger for Emilia? Or for Circena? Could the gladiator's loyalty be bought with coin, or with a pretty smile? In truth, he didn't know whether he would be asked to draw his sword tonight, and he hadn't bothered actually thinking about how he would respond to actually being called on to unambiguously prove himself one way or the other. As he stood his post quietly, he paid as much attention to his ears as his eyes, eavesdropping on the people out of earshot of the dais. Not for either of them, really. Just because he was curious.
When Emilia had still been frozen and devastated in the aftermath of the riot, Lesley had been there, either in the room or right outside her door; when the princess had been confronted with the terrifying prospect of claiming the power and responsibility that was her birthright he'd been reassuringly within sight without even needing to turn her head whenever she'd been speaking to anyone but a slave. When she'd finally taken that power in hand, though, he would have asked leave if she hadn't sent him away on her own. Alehandros and Hector would be her sword and shield; he had others to look after as well - not to mention a pressing need to physically release his building anger and and equally pressing need to sleep.
When he returned to the palace, dark hair that had been falling into his eyes a few days ago was cropped as short as any young soldier's, his uniform was as freshly washed as his body, and the brand new bruises on his cheek and knuckles only served to help him blend in with the other guards who had been sent out to quell the riot. He was carrying the exact same equipment as the others, too, rather than his own; this was a court session, and Lesley was willing to make that much concession to formality.
He knew he was late, but he'd also decided it was more important to be calm and focused than anything else, and rushing would ruin the equilibrium he'd struggled so hard to regain, especially after a somewhat frustrating morning. There was always some idiot... nevermind. He'd hoped he wasn't too late, but he wasn't surprised to find that Emilia had already opened the court session. Some others might be happy to make a grand entrance after everyone was already present and impatient, but that wasn't really the young princess's style.
Lesley scanned the room as he slipped in through the servant's entrance. Elias was still standing beside Emilia, so he hadn't missed the main event. The princess seemed to be holding up well. Alert, perhaps a touch distracted, but not looking particularly nervous. Nothing that couldn't be attributed to simply feeling off-balance due to it being her first-ever court without her father and sister present. He decided not to advertise that he was late or risk her reaction if he approached her directly. She didn't need anyone wondering why she was smiling at a man little more than a slave right now. Instead, he tapped another guard on the shoulder and told him to take his ten minute break. There was no real schedule, after all; that man would relieve someone else when he came back, and they were all supposed to be paying attention enough that nobody got overlooked. Occasionally some idiot managed to annoy his entire cohort and spent an uncomfortable length of time without the chance to relieve himself, but for the most part the palace guard were chosen for being reliable, professionally-minded sorts. At least they could trade off at all, unlike the personal bodyguards of people who couldn't afford more than one.
For once, he wasn't too tempted to pace or fidget - though how long that would last depended entirely on how long he had to wait for the evening to get interesting - and with his tattoos completely covered, there wasn't much to draw the eye to this particular guard. He wasn't hidden or disguised, just... not obvious. Sneaky? A hidden dagger for Emilia? Or for Circena? Could the gladiator's loyalty be bought with coin, or with a pretty smile? In truth, he didn't know whether he would be asked to draw his sword tonight, and he hadn't bothered actually thinking about how he would respond to actually being called on to unambiguously prove himself one way or the other. As he stood his post quietly, he paid as much attention to his ears as his eyes, eavesdropping on the people out of earshot of the dais. Not for either of them, really. Just because he was curious.
Hebe was pleased that Princess Emilia had time for her again. While she had supposedly been ill, the youngest Antonis had not had a lot to do during the two weeks she spent at the palati every month. Her mistress had never sent for her, which had disappointed her until she had learned the probable reason for it. Elias … she refused to call him ‘lord’ … had kept the two girls away from each other, not wanting her to influence the princess into pulling away from him. She would have done it too if given the chance. He might have also been wary of her eidetic memory, assuming he even knew about it. That moron was too full of himself to pay much attention to anyone else.
She had also discovered one of the reasons her parents had allowed her to become Emilia’s lady-in-waiting. Her shoulder had been dislocated in the riots and she had passed out when it was popped back in place. While she was recovering, she hardly ever left Marietta’s side. But once her sister was out of danger and she was able to move her arm without great pain, she had gone back to the palati. Her father spoke with her often, usually asking her what she had seen and heard during specific times, some of them months and years ago. He made use of her flawless recall and she realized that she had been spying for him all along without being aware of it.
Today, Princess Emilia was holding her first court session and Hebe was quite proud of her. Perhaps if Queen Persephone decided not to reclaim the throne, Emilia would become Queen. She certainly looked the part in one of Persephone’s brocade gowns. Even though it hurt her injured arm, she’d had fun helping her mistress with the alterations so that it would fit her perfectly, as if it had been made for her and not her sister. She had not done the work herself, of course. The young brunette had given detailed instructions to the royal seamstresses and had supervised their work.
Hebe had dressed early so she could help the princess dress. She wore her family’s colors in the form of a sky blue chiton embroidered all over with pearls. All of her jewelry, including her fibulae, was composed of pearls as well. Her beautiful chestnut hair was left loose, its only adornment the pearl circlet around her forehead. It was a lovely ensemble, complimenting Emilia’s without outshining it.
Just before the royal party made their entrance, the princess glanced over at Hebe. She checked to make sure that nothing was out of place and then smiled at her reassuringly. How nervous Emilia must be. She had not been raised to rule. Hebe was sure she would do a wonderful job today and that everyone would adore her once the session was over.
She followed the princess as she entered the room. Hebe’s father escorted her to her throne and Hebe took her place on the dais slightly behind the two of them, ready to help Emilia with anything she needed. Eventually, she would join the other nobles. Her father had told her he needed her eyes and ears tonight, but at the moment, her place was with her mistress.
Hebe was pleased that Princess Emilia had time for her again. While she had supposedly been ill, the youngest Antonis had not had a lot to do during the two weeks she spent at the palati every month. Her mistress had never sent for her, which had disappointed her until she had learned the probable reason for it. Elias … she refused to call him ‘lord’ … had kept the two girls away from each other, not wanting her to influence the princess into pulling away from him. She would have done it too if given the chance. He might have also been wary of her eidetic memory, assuming he even knew about it. That moron was too full of himself to pay much attention to anyone else.
She had also discovered one of the reasons her parents had allowed her to become Emilia’s lady-in-waiting. Her shoulder had been dislocated in the riots and she had passed out when it was popped back in place. While she was recovering, she hardly ever left Marietta’s side. But once her sister was out of danger and she was able to move her arm without great pain, she had gone back to the palati. Her father spoke with her often, usually asking her what she had seen and heard during specific times, some of them months and years ago. He made use of her flawless recall and she realized that she had been spying for him all along without being aware of it.
Today, Princess Emilia was holding her first court session and Hebe was quite proud of her. Perhaps if Queen Persephone decided not to reclaim the throne, Emilia would become Queen. She certainly looked the part in one of Persephone’s brocade gowns. Even though it hurt her injured arm, she’d had fun helping her mistress with the alterations so that it would fit her perfectly, as if it had been made for her and not her sister. She had not done the work herself, of course. The young brunette had given detailed instructions to the royal seamstresses and had supervised their work.
Hebe had dressed early so she could help the princess dress. She wore her family’s colors in the form of a sky blue chiton embroidered all over with pearls. All of her jewelry, including her fibulae, was composed of pearls as well. Her beautiful chestnut hair was left loose, its only adornment the pearl circlet around her forehead. It was a lovely ensemble, complimenting Emilia’s without outshining it.
Just before the royal party made their entrance, the princess glanced over at Hebe. She checked to make sure that nothing was out of place and then smiled at her reassuringly. How nervous Emilia must be. She had not been raised to rule. Hebe was sure she would do a wonderful job today and that everyone would adore her once the session was over.
She followed the princess as she entered the room. Hebe’s father escorted her to her throne and Hebe took her place on the dais slightly behind the two of them, ready to help Emilia with anything she needed. Eventually, she would join the other nobles. Her father had told her he needed her eyes and ears tonight, but at the moment, her place was with her mistress.
