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Adrestus grabbed her arm rather firmly, earning him another of her elbows to his ribs. ”Don’t grab me like that.” She hissed quietly, just for his ears. It was a gentle, but firm reprimand. Dione didn’t like to be jerked around, not even by her own brother or by accident. She had a penchant for fainting when she was startled, and sometimes even the slightest of triggers could send her swaying. She could not afford to be embarrassed in the middle of such an important court gathering, and he knew that. There were too many eligible men that could be watching, and she would not have her...peculiarity make her ineligible to them.
Dione fixed a smile to her lips as they were approached all at once on various sides. The first was a blonde that Dione could not put her finger on how she knew the girl. She did not have to wonder for very long as the girl introduced herself. Her gaze flicked to Adrestus, noting the way her brother’s face lit up at her arrival. Ariadne. Wasn’t she…? Dione’s face was carefully polite as she tried to recall that name and its place in society. Not a royal house, not even a noble house.
It was only snippets of memory, the girl before her most often at the Princess’ side. The elder princess if she remembered correctly. Was it...crass to call her a servant?
Dione smiled gentilly. ”It’s nice to meet you.” She said, holding the girl’s gaze until it flickered back to her brother. ”Don’t listen to him. He’s been away at sea for so long, I don’t think he understands manners anymore.” She said with a teasing tone. ”Too much time among the sailors.” She smiled, letting it touch her eyes briefly and about to chastise her brother’s openly flirtatious words, when he quite suddenly seemed alright with the crowd and swept Ariadne away into the crowd.
With the pair of them gone, Dione made a mental note to warn her brother about pursuing the girl too closely. Nice as she might be, Adrestus and Dione had the responsibility to marry well -- him as the head of the house and her as the eldest daughter. Politically their marriages were statements, testaments to the household’s strength and marrying someone of higher station was of great importance.
Dione was not alone for long as it was Iris of Argyris who approached her next. They were on friendly enough terms, and Dione smiled quite widely to see the brunette. ”Lady Iris, it’s been too long. How is Argyris fairing during these...tumultuous times?” She lowered her voice for her next words. ”I look better than I feel thankfully. I might have...had a little too much to drink last night.” She smiled as she spoke, even as she wrinkled her nose. ”I have the feeling I’m going to need another one of those nights tonight...perhaps we should catch up on old times.”
A flash of familiar blonde hair caught her eye just then, and she turned her head to follow the sight of her youngest sister -- Rene -- approaching the receiving line for the queen. ”Gods above.” She couldn’t help but mutter as a tightness rose in her chest. Her youngest sister was sweet as honey, blessed with beauty by Aphrodite but that would not keep Dione from worrying -- particularly when the country was in such a state of upheaval. Staying away from the royals was rule number one. Let them tear each other apart and let the dust settle, and Dione was not quite sure that Emilia would be still standing when that dust did settle.
She stepped forward, before catching herself. It would be rude to leave Iris standing here. It seemed like there was no harm or foul, although Dione couldn’t say that she could hear the exchange between her sister and the young princess. She didn’t have much time to wonder after that because things were called to order and the rule of martial law came down.
Dione frowned, glancing at Iris as she tried to understand the order. ’What does that even mean?” She asked, wondering how concerned she ought to be. Things in Athenia were quite dire but martial law?
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Adrestus grabbed her arm rather firmly, earning him another of her elbows to his ribs. ”Don’t grab me like that.” She hissed quietly, just for his ears. It was a gentle, but firm reprimand. Dione didn’t like to be jerked around, not even by her own brother or by accident. She had a penchant for fainting when she was startled, and sometimes even the slightest of triggers could send her swaying. She could not afford to be embarrassed in the middle of such an important court gathering, and he knew that. There were too many eligible men that could be watching, and she would not have her...peculiarity make her ineligible to them.
Dione fixed a smile to her lips as they were approached all at once on various sides. The first was a blonde that Dione could not put her finger on how she knew the girl. She did not have to wonder for very long as the girl introduced herself. Her gaze flicked to Adrestus, noting the way her brother’s face lit up at her arrival. Ariadne. Wasn’t she…? Dione’s face was carefully polite as she tried to recall that name and its place in society. Not a royal house, not even a noble house.
It was only snippets of memory, the girl before her most often at the Princess’ side. The elder princess if she remembered correctly. Was it...crass to call her a servant?
Dione smiled gentilly. ”It’s nice to meet you.” She said, holding the girl’s gaze until it flickered back to her brother. ”Don’t listen to him. He’s been away at sea for so long, I don’t think he understands manners anymore.” She said with a teasing tone. ”Too much time among the sailors.” She smiled, letting it touch her eyes briefly and about to chastise her brother’s openly flirtatious words, when he quite suddenly seemed alright with the crowd and swept Ariadne away into the crowd.
With the pair of them gone, Dione made a mental note to warn her brother about pursuing the girl too closely. Nice as she might be, Adrestus and Dione had the responsibility to marry well -- him as the head of the house and her as the eldest daughter. Politically their marriages were statements, testaments to the household’s strength and marrying someone of higher station was of great importance.
Dione was not alone for long as it was Iris of Argyris who approached her next. They were on friendly enough terms, and Dione smiled quite widely to see the brunette. ”Lady Iris, it’s been too long. How is Argyris fairing during these...tumultuous times?” She lowered her voice for her next words. ”I look better than I feel thankfully. I might have...had a little too much to drink last night.” She smiled as she spoke, even as she wrinkled her nose. ”I have the feeling I’m going to need another one of those nights tonight...perhaps we should catch up on old times.”
A flash of familiar blonde hair caught her eye just then, and she turned her head to follow the sight of her youngest sister -- Rene -- approaching the receiving line for the queen. ”Gods above.” She couldn’t help but mutter as a tightness rose in her chest. Her youngest sister was sweet as honey, blessed with beauty by Aphrodite but that would not keep Dione from worrying -- particularly when the country was in such a state of upheaval. Staying away from the royals was rule number one. Let them tear each other apart and let the dust settle, and Dione was not quite sure that Emilia would be still standing when that dust did settle.
She stepped forward, before catching herself. It would be rude to leave Iris standing here. It seemed like there was no harm or foul, although Dione couldn’t say that she could hear the exchange between her sister and the young princess. She didn’t have much time to wonder after that because things were called to order and the rule of martial law came down.
Dione frowned, glancing at Iris as she tried to understand the order. ’What does that even mean?” She asked, wondering how concerned she ought to be. Things in Athenia were quite dire but martial law?
Adrestus grabbed her arm rather firmly, earning him another of her elbows to his ribs. ”Don’t grab me like that.” She hissed quietly, just for his ears. It was a gentle, but firm reprimand. Dione didn’t like to be jerked around, not even by her own brother or by accident. She had a penchant for fainting when she was startled, and sometimes even the slightest of triggers could send her swaying. She could not afford to be embarrassed in the middle of such an important court gathering, and he knew that. There were too many eligible men that could be watching, and she would not have her...peculiarity make her ineligible to them.
Dione fixed a smile to her lips as they were approached all at once on various sides. The first was a blonde that Dione could not put her finger on how she knew the girl. She did not have to wonder for very long as the girl introduced herself. Her gaze flicked to Adrestus, noting the way her brother’s face lit up at her arrival. Ariadne. Wasn’t she…? Dione’s face was carefully polite as she tried to recall that name and its place in society. Not a royal house, not even a noble house.
It was only snippets of memory, the girl before her most often at the Princess’ side. The elder princess if she remembered correctly. Was it...crass to call her a servant?
Dione smiled gentilly. ”It’s nice to meet you.” She said, holding the girl’s gaze until it flickered back to her brother. ”Don’t listen to him. He’s been away at sea for so long, I don’t think he understands manners anymore.” She said with a teasing tone. ”Too much time among the sailors.” She smiled, letting it touch her eyes briefly and about to chastise her brother’s openly flirtatious words, when he quite suddenly seemed alright with the crowd and swept Ariadne away into the crowd.
With the pair of them gone, Dione made a mental note to warn her brother about pursuing the girl too closely. Nice as she might be, Adrestus and Dione had the responsibility to marry well -- him as the head of the house and her as the eldest daughter. Politically their marriages were statements, testaments to the household’s strength and marrying someone of higher station was of great importance.
Dione was not alone for long as it was Iris of Argyris who approached her next. They were on friendly enough terms, and Dione smiled quite widely to see the brunette. ”Lady Iris, it’s been too long. How is Argyris fairing during these...tumultuous times?” She lowered her voice for her next words. ”I look better than I feel thankfully. I might have...had a little too much to drink last night.” She smiled as she spoke, even as she wrinkled her nose. ”I have the feeling I’m going to need another one of those nights tonight...perhaps we should catch up on old times.”
A flash of familiar blonde hair caught her eye just then, and she turned her head to follow the sight of her youngest sister -- Rene -- approaching the receiving line for the queen. ”Gods above.” She couldn’t help but mutter as a tightness rose in her chest. Her youngest sister was sweet as honey, blessed with beauty by Aphrodite but that would not keep Dione from worrying -- particularly when the country was in such a state of upheaval. Staying away from the royals was rule number one. Let them tear each other apart and let the dust settle, and Dione was not quite sure that Emilia would be still standing when that dust did settle.
She stepped forward, before catching herself. It would be rude to leave Iris standing here. It seemed like there was no harm or foul, although Dione couldn’t say that she could hear the exchange between her sister and the young princess. She didn’t have much time to wonder after that because things were called to order and the rule of martial law came down.
Dione frowned, glancing at Iris as she tried to understand the order. ’What does that even mean?” She asked, wondering how concerned she ought to be. Things in Athenia were quite dire but martial law?
Although Lady Dione seemed pleasant enough, Ariadne couldn’t help but notice the look that passed over her face as she glanced between the two of them. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before—Ari was not of noble blood yet she had long held a position of prominence at Persephone’s side. Many had wondered what Ariadne—or her father—had done so that she could serve a princess. And she knew the look of someone who thought she was not good enough for their brother or their son. Ari never openly expressed interest in someone, especially in a public setting, though it didn’t stop people from thinking that she did.
Of course, Adre’s words were more than enough to insinuate that something was happening between them. Ari’s cheeks twinged pink at what she knew to be a compliment though it felt out of place at the moment. Partly because they were in front of his sister and also partly because she felt miserable. It didn’t feel right to be called beautiful when she had just vomited what little had been in her stomach only minutes ago. In fact, she felt rather like she might do it again, but knew that she could not do it in this moment. Now that would be embarrassing.
She gave Dione a small smile, indicating that she agreed with the woman. “Of course,” she replied simply. “It’s nice he has someone looking out for him. I’m sure he’ll grow used to life back at court in time.” The small girl gave Adre a slight smile at that as well, not wanting him to feel too bad. His compliment was well intended. Sweet. She had no idea how she felt about it. She’d enjoyed his company lately—not much else had been able to make her smile over these past few weeks, but Adre had.
However, she had no idea how much of it was because he genuinely enjoyed spending time with her—she couldn’t imagine she was that much fun these days—or it was because he was recovering from a broken heart. Ariadne had gleaned from Marietta that the two of them had a relationship that had recently ended. Marietta seemed to be doing all right in that regard, but Ariadne remembered that Adrestus had always been a bit of a tender soul. She could still remember when he told her that he was leaving to sail for an unknown number of years. He’d practically burst into tears in their kitchen. How was he handling this heartbreak? They didn’t really speak of it, so she didn’t know, but could imagine. And it was what made her hesitate.
Before anyone could say much else, Adre was sweeping her away, into the crowd. He moved at a pace a bit too fast for her and Ari reached out to gently touch his arm, slowing him down. “Do you mind if we sit a moment?” she asked, finding that she was fading more quickly than she thought. Perhaps it truly was a mistake for her to come here tonight. She had spotted her father as they moved and wanted nothing more than for him to scoop her up and take her home. But he looked quite determined about something and Ari wondered if she ought to be worried about what was to come.
She sat on a bench near a wall, tenderly lowering herself to the cushion. Her bruised ribs generally protested every movement, though they were less painful than they had been weeks ago. Ariadne smiled as Adrestus called out to her friend, grateful for another familiar face. Before any of them could have a conversation, the room was lulled silent, Princess Emilia standing to speak.
Ariadne watched the girl carefully, knowing how big a moment this must be for her. She had never been expecting this situation—that somehow she would be in charge. She had not prepared for this as Persephone had. Yet, Ariadne admired her strength. She made a mental note to tell Perse just how wonderful her sister had done. Though the next time she would be in Arcana was beyond her.
The princess’ words had everyone in a tizzy, voices rising as soon as she was done speaking. Ari wondered who had been behind this plan, though she could not say she was surprised it was happening. After the events of the past few weeks, months really, Athenia was in need of help. She hoped it was not too late.
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Although Lady Dione seemed pleasant enough, Ariadne couldn’t help but notice the look that passed over her face as she glanced between the two of them. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before—Ari was not of noble blood yet she had long held a position of prominence at Persephone’s side. Many had wondered what Ariadne—or her father—had done so that she could serve a princess. And she knew the look of someone who thought she was not good enough for their brother or their son. Ari never openly expressed interest in someone, especially in a public setting, though it didn’t stop people from thinking that she did.
Of course, Adre’s words were more than enough to insinuate that something was happening between them. Ari’s cheeks twinged pink at what she knew to be a compliment though it felt out of place at the moment. Partly because they were in front of his sister and also partly because she felt miserable. It didn’t feel right to be called beautiful when she had just vomited what little had been in her stomach only minutes ago. In fact, she felt rather like she might do it again, but knew that she could not do it in this moment. Now that would be embarrassing.
She gave Dione a small smile, indicating that she agreed with the woman. “Of course,” she replied simply. “It’s nice he has someone looking out for him. I’m sure he’ll grow used to life back at court in time.” The small girl gave Adre a slight smile at that as well, not wanting him to feel too bad. His compliment was well intended. Sweet. She had no idea how she felt about it. She’d enjoyed his company lately—not much else had been able to make her smile over these past few weeks, but Adre had.
However, she had no idea how much of it was because he genuinely enjoyed spending time with her—she couldn’t imagine she was that much fun these days—or it was because he was recovering from a broken heart. Ariadne had gleaned from Marietta that the two of them had a relationship that had recently ended. Marietta seemed to be doing all right in that regard, but Ariadne remembered that Adrestus had always been a bit of a tender soul. She could still remember when he told her that he was leaving to sail for an unknown number of years. He’d practically burst into tears in their kitchen. How was he handling this heartbreak? They didn’t really speak of it, so she didn’t know, but could imagine. And it was what made her hesitate.
Before anyone could say much else, Adre was sweeping her away, into the crowd. He moved at a pace a bit too fast for her and Ari reached out to gently touch his arm, slowing him down. “Do you mind if we sit a moment?” she asked, finding that she was fading more quickly than she thought. Perhaps it truly was a mistake for her to come here tonight. She had spotted her father as they moved and wanted nothing more than for him to scoop her up and take her home. But he looked quite determined about something and Ari wondered if she ought to be worried about what was to come.
She sat on a bench near a wall, tenderly lowering herself to the cushion. Her bruised ribs generally protested every movement, though they were less painful than they had been weeks ago. Ariadne smiled as Adrestus called out to her friend, grateful for another familiar face. Before any of them could have a conversation, the room was lulled silent, Princess Emilia standing to speak.
Ariadne watched the girl carefully, knowing how big a moment this must be for her. She had never been expecting this situation—that somehow she would be in charge. She had not prepared for this as Persephone had. Yet, Ariadne admired her strength. She made a mental note to tell Perse just how wonderful her sister had done. Though the next time she would be in Arcana was beyond her.
The princess’ words had everyone in a tizzy, voices rising as soon as she was done speaking. Ari wondered who had been behind this plan, though she could not say she was surprised it was happening. After the events of the past few weeks, months really, Athenia was in need of help. She hoped it was not too late.
Although Lady Dione seemed pleasant enough, Ariadne couldn’t help but notice the look that passed over her face as she glanced between the two of them. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before—Ari was not of noble blood yet she had long held a position of prominence at Persephone’s side. Many had wondered what Ariadne—or her father—had done so that she could serve a princess. And she knew the look of someone who thought she was not good enough for their brother or their son. Ari never openly expressed interest in someone, especially in a public setting, though it didn’t stop people from thinking that she did.
Of course, Adre’s words were more than enough to insinuate that something was happening between them. Ari’s cheeks twinged pink at what she knew to be a compliment though it felt out of place at the moment. Partly because they were in front of his sister and also partly because she felt miserable. It didn’t feel right to be called beautiful when she had just vomited what little had been in her stomach only minutes ago. In fact, she felt rather like she might do it again, but knew that she could not do it in this moment. Now that would be embarrassing.
She gave Dione a small smile, indicating that she agreed with the woman. “Of course,” she replied simply. “It’s nice he has someone looking out for him. I’m sure he’ll grow used to life back at court in time.” The small girl gave Adre a slight smile at that as well, not wanting him to feel too bad. His compliment was well intended. Sweet. She had no idea how she felt about it. She’d enjoyed his company lately—not much else had been able to make her smile over these past few weeks, but Adre had.
However, she had no idea how much of it was because he genuinely enjoyed spending time with her—she couldn’t imagine she was that much fun these days—or it was because he was recovering from a broken heart. Ariadne had gleaned from Marietta that the two of them had a relationship that had recently ended. Marietta seemed to be doing all right in that regard, but Ariadne remembered that Adrestus had always been a bit of a tender soul. She could still remember when he told her that he was leaving to sail for an unknown number of years. He’d practically burst into tears in their kitchen. How was he handling this heartbreak? They didn’t really speak of it, so she didn’t know, but could imagine. And it was what made her hesitate.
Before anyone could say much else, Adre was sweeping her away, into the crowd. He moved at a pace a bit too fast for her and Ari reached out to gently touch his arm, slowing him down. “Do you mind if we sit a moment?” she asked, finding that she was fading more quickly than she thought. Perhaps it truly was a mistake for her to come here tonight. She had spotted her father as they moved and wanted nothing more than for him to scoop her up and take her home. But he looked quite determined about something and Ari wondered if she ought to be worried about what was to come.
She sat on a bench near a wall, tenderly lowering herself to the cushion. Her bruised ribs generally protested every movement, though they were less painful than they had been weeks ago. Ariadne smiled as Adrestus called out to her friend, grateful for another familiar face. Before any of them could have a conversation, the room was lulled silent, Princess Emilia standing to speak.
Ariadne watched the girl carefully, knowing how big a moment this must be for her. She had never been expecting this situation—that somehow she would be in charge. She had not prepared for this as Persephone had. Yet, Ariadne admired her strength. She made a mental note to tell Perse just how wonderful her sister had done. Though the next time she would be in Arcana was beyond her.
The princess’ words had everyone in a tizzy, voices rising as soon as she was done speaking. Ari wondered who had been behind this plan, though she could not say she was surprised it was happening. After the events of the past few weeks, months really, Athenia was in need of help. She hoped it was not too late.
Immensely pleased that the princess seemed happy for the gift, Rene genuflected before drifting off from the dais, expressive eyes scanning about for her siblings. In the sea of beautiful people in all their ornate splendor, it was harder to pick them out. Just as the adolescent was working her way through those gathered, some she knew, some she did not, she continued to search about for Dione or Adre.
That was until the princess stood to address the court. All fell silent, every pair of eyes in the room turning towards her. Some of them appeared wound up tight as springs in a cog, some appeared unamused, others vaguely interested. It was a curious array of responses, and the princess herself seemed equally as scattered. However, she began to speak, able to project over the blistering silence that had gripped the court. Tackling the issues that had locked the kingdom in a vice of upheaval and mayhem, Emilia declared martial law. The collective reaction of the court was immediate; gasps, whispers, talking, questions, objection. It all mired together into a bog of frenzy.
Rather removed from the political spectrum, Rene herself failed to react along with the others. Martial law meant what, exactly? The first thought that entered her pretty little head was whether or not she would be able to acquire her art materials. Even if Athenia itself was unable to deliver on such imports, maybe Adre could pluck her up a few things here and there in his travels if he were able. She would have to ask. But as far as Rene knew, martial law meant soldiers. Considering she never traveled out alone, always in the company of her handmaid or a guard or two, this did not seem like a stretch from the life she already knew.
As soon as the din of discussion erupted following the princess’ edict, Rene once more turned about, sussing out Dione with some diligent effort. Weaving in and out of the pack of bodies took a bit of doing, but bit by bit, Rene closed in on her older sister’s location. “Dione!” she called lightly, not wishing to draw attention to herself by yelling. Perhaps her older sister could elaborate on what had just transpired. She was one of the family’s largest power players when it came to politics. If Rene strove to advance beyond the simplistic role she’d always been assigned in her House, she would need a far better understanding of what was transpiring.
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Immensely pleased that the princess seemed happy for the gift, Rene genuflected before drifting off from the dais, expressive eyes scanning about for her siblings. In the sea of beautiful people in all their ornate splendor, it was harder to pick them out. Just as the adolescent was working her way through those gathered, some she knew, some she did not, she continued to search about for Dione or Adre.
That was until the princess stood to address the court. All fell silent, every pair of eyes in the room turning towards her. Some of them appeared wound up tight as springs in a cog, some appeared unamused, others vaguely interested. It was a curious array of responses, and the princess herself seemed equally as scattered. However, she began to speak, able to project over the blistering silence that had gripped the court. Tackling the issues that had locked the kingdom in a vice of upheaval and mayhem, Emilia declared martial law. The collective reaction of the court was immediate; gasps, whispers, talking, questions, objection. It all mired together into a bog of frenzy.
Rather removed from the political spectrum, Rene herself failed to react along with the others. Martial law meant what, exactly? The first thought that entered her pretty little head was whether or not she would be able to acquire her art materials. Even if Athenia itself was unable to deliver on such imports, maybe Adre could pluck her up a few things here and there in his travels if he were able. She would have to ask. But as far as Rene knew, martial law meant soldiers. Considering she never traveled out alone, always in the company of her handmaid or a guard or two, this did not seem like a stretch from the life she already knew.
As soon as the din of discussion erupted following the princess’ edict, Rene once more turned about, sussing out Dione with some diligent effort. Weaving in and out of the pack of bodies took a bit of doing, but bit by bit, Rene closed in on her older sister’s location. “Dione!” she called lightly, not wishing to draw attention to herself by yelling. Perhaps her older sister could elaborate on what had just transpired. She was one of the family’s largest power players when it came to politics. If Rene strove to advance beyond the simplistic role she’d always been assigned in her House, she would need a far better understanding of what was transpiring.
Immensely pleased that the princess seemed happy for the gift, Rene genuflected before drifting off from the dais, expressive eyes scanning about for her siblings. In the sea of beautiful people in all their ornate splendor, it was harder to pick them out. Just as the adolescent was working her way through those gathered, some she knew, some she did not, she continued to search about for Dione or Adre.
That was until the princess stood to address the court. All fell silent, every pair of eyes in the room turning towards her. Some of them appeared wound up tight as springs in a cog, some appeared unamused, others vaguely interested. It was a curious array of responses, and the princess herself seemed equally as scattered. However, she began to speak, able to project over the blistering silence that had gripped the court. Tackling the issues that had locked the kingdom in a vice of upheaval and mayhem, Emilia declared martial law. The collective reaction of the court was immediate; gasps, whispers, talking, questions, objection. It all mired together into a bog of frenzy.
Rather removed from the political spectrum, Rene herself failed to react along with the others. Martial law meant what, exactly? The first thought that entered her pretty little head was whether or not she would be able to acquire her art materials. Even if Athenia itself was unable to deliver on such imports, maybe Adre could pluck her up a few things here and there in his travels if he were able. She would have to ask. But as far as Rene knew, martial law meant soldiers. Considering she never traveled out alone, always in the company of her handmaid or a guard or two, this did not seem like a stretch from the life she already knew.
As soon as the din of discussion erupted following the princess’ edict, Rene once more turned about, sussing out Dione with some diligent effort. Weaving in and out of the pack of bodies took a bit of doing, but bit by bit, Rene closed in on her older sister’s location. “Dione!” she called lightly, not wishing to draw attention to herself by yelling. Perhaps her older sister could elaborate on what had just transpired. She was one of the family’s largest power players when it came to politics. If Rene strove to advance beyond the simplistic role she’d always been assigned in her House, she would need a far better understanding of what was transpiring.
The nobility was all swept up in some meeting in their fancy halls. Swept up in their immaculate chitons and peploses, stirred up with their hair all high. He imagined each of them with a cup of wine, sipping as elegantly as they possibly could while trying not to choke on the smugness in the air.
The thought brought a laugh as he rose for the morning, rather enjoying the comforts that Adrestus was more than willing to concede to him. He lay upon his captain's bed, staring up for a moment at the wooden ceiling before he turned and found something settled in a garb. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he found the gleaming metal circle, raising it in his hand before he saw the familiar emblem rendered into it.
Oh, Adrestus, you silly boy.
Of course he'd forget it in here. He wondered just how often the boy wore this ring at all, and rolled his eyes at the notion of being so... silly? Irresponsible? He couldn't fault Adrestus for either without pointing fingers at himself. Always keen to be the younger man's bad influence, he found himself at odds with the growing familiarity between them. For once, he rather enjoyed it, but also lamented the fact that he'd been thrown in Athenia with no discernible timetable as to them leaving.
I should keep this.
The musing lingered in his mind for a while, as he let his gaze trail along the walls of the cabin. It'd be almost too easy, to simply pocket this. But, then what? Adrestus would likely notice, and fuss over it endlessly, and Aivon had not the contacts here to sell it. Nor did he suspect he even could. Still, the glimmering ring tested him, and it was only after assuring himself the difficulty in selling such a hot item was only complemented by the fact that he rather enjoyed the amenities offered to him by the man.
Was it loyalty? Probably not, but it was close enough as he resolved to return it to the man. However, before he left, he caught his eye on something else. A fabulous dyed vermillion chiton, just a few inches longer than it needed to be to fit him properly.
"Oooooooh, that's nice," he murmured as he dressed himself, carefully tying the chiton closed with a white sash before cinching it across his shoulder and making his way off the ship. Peeling his wineskin from the place it hung on the wall, he filled it from the ship's wine barrel before making his way off. The journey to the palati wasn't overtly long, but waylaid by the desperate poor and then stopped at the entrance by guards, he took it upon himself to insist passage.
"Lord Adrestus of Nikolaos sent for me. His ring just finished getting refurbished. It would be a disaster if he wasn't able to wear it, right?"
A sip of wine for himself before he tied the skin around his waist, letting the path of his gaze roam wildly when he was finally admitted. Adrestus, once he caught sight of him, seemed green about the gills. He agreed with the sentiment. With the exception of the multitude of figures being beautifully dressed and satisfying to look at, there was far too much blithering and not enough amusement to catch his attention for very long.
Adrestus was conversing with a vaguely familiar face. His sister? Which one? He narrowed his eyes before his lips curved into a grin. The eldest. He forgot her name, but he liked her face, and was approaching the pair just as another figure joined the fray. A girl? While also blonde, she had discernible differences from the other two, and the introduction he wasn't in time to inject himself into proved that this was someone Adrestus fancied, not a relation.
With a crass wink thrown at the eldest Nikolaos girl, Aivon passed her by, intent on delivering what it was he'd summoned himself to this wretched place to give.
"You've got a good choice in mates, my lord," he teased, letting the title roll from his lips before he threw an arm around the man's shoulder. The princess (he presumed) was about to speak, so the charlatan kept his voice low as he continued along,
"A greedier man might've stolen this."
Placing the ring in Adrestus' hand, he pulled back and lowered his hand, not wanting to further interrupt the proceedings. However, what he did do, was slip Adrestus the wineskin he carried, a low whisper following him.
"You'll probably need this. This place sucks and it's about to get worse."
The announcements were grim, a strange solution for the problem of rioting. But, what did he know?
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The nobility was all swept up in some meeting in their fancy halls. Swept up in their immaculate chitons and peploses, stirred up with their hair all high. He imagined each of them with a cup of wine, sipping as elegantly as they possibly could while trying not to choke on the smugness in the air.
The thought brought a laugh as he rose for the morning, rather enjoying the comforts that Adrestus was more than willing to concede to him. He lay upon his captain's bed, staring up for a moment at the wooden ceiling before he turned and found something settled in a garb. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he found the gleaming metal circle, raising it in his hand before he saw the familiar emblem rendered into it.
Oh, Adrestus, you silly boy.
Of course he'd forget it in here. He wondered just how often the boy wore this ring at all, and rolled his eyes at the notion of being so... silly? Irresponsible? He couldn't fault Adrestus for either without pointing fingers at himself. Always keen to be the younger man's bad influence, he found himself at odds with the growing familiarity between them. For once, he rather enjoyed it, but also lamented the fact that he'd been thrown in Athenia with no discernible timetable as to them leaving.
I should keep this.
The musing lingered in his mind for a while, as he let his gaze trail along the walls of the cabin. It'd be almost too easy, to simply pocket this. But, then what? Adrestus would likely notice, and fuss over it endlessly, and Aivon had not the contacts here to sell it. Nor did he suspect he even could. Still, the glimmering ring tested him, and it was only after assuring himself the difficulty in selling such a hot item was only complemented by the fact that he rather enjoyed the amenities offered to him by the man.
Was it loyalty? Probably not, but it was close enough as he resolved to return it to the man. However, before he left, he caught his eye on something else. A fabulous dyed vermillion chiton, just a few inches longer than it needed to be to fit him properly.
"Oooooooh, that's nice," he murmured as he dressed himself, carefully tying the chiton closed with a white sash before cinching it across his shoulder and making his way off the ship. Peeling his wineskin from the place it hung on the wall, he filled it from the ship's wine barrel before making his way off. The journey to the palati wasn't overtly long, but waylaid by the desperate poor and then stopped at the entrance by guards, he took it upon himself to insist passage.
"Lord Adrestus of Nikolaos sent for me. His ring just finished getting refurbished. It would be a disaster if he wasn't able to wear it, right?"
A sip of wine for himself before he tied the skin around his waist, letting the path of his gaze roam wildly when he was finally admitted. Adrestus, once he caught sight of him, seemed green about the gills. He agreed with the sentiment. With the exception of the multitude of figures being beautifully dressed and satisfying to look at, there was far too much blithering and not enough amusement to catch his attention for very long.
Adrestus was conversing with a vaguely familiar face. His sister? Which one? He narrowed his eyes before his lips curved into a grin. The eldest. He forgot her name, but he liked her face, and was approaching the pair just as another figure joined the fray. A girl? While also blonde, she had discernible differences from the other two, and the introduction he wasn't in time to inject himself into proved that this was someone Adrestus fancied, not a relation.
With a crass wink thrown at the eldest Nikolaos girl, Aivon passed her by, intent on delivering what it was he'd summoned himself to this wretched place to give.
"You've got a good choice in mates, my lord," he teased, letting the title roll from his lips before he threw an arm around the man's shoulder. The princess (he presumed) was about to speak, so the charlatan kept his voice low as he continued along,
"A greedier man might've stolen this."
Placing the ring in Adrestus' hand, he pulled back and lowered his hand, not wanting to further interrupt the proceedings. However, what he did do, was slip Adrestus the wineskin he carried, a low whisper following him.
"You'll probably need this. This place sucks and it's about to get worse."
The announcements were grim, a strange solution for the problem of rioting. But, what did he know?
The nobility was all swept up in some meeting in their fancy halls. Swept up in their immaculate chitons and peploses, stirred up with their hair all high. He imagined each of them with a cup of wine, sipping as elegantly as they possibly could while trying not to choke on the smugness in the air.
The thought brought a laugh as he rose for the morning, rather enjoying the comforts that Adrestus was more than willing to concede to him. He lay upon his captain's bed, staring up for a moment at the wooden ceiling before he turned and found something settled in a garb. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he found the gleaming metal circle, raising it in his hand before he saw the familiar emblem rendered into it.
Oh, Adrestus, you silly boy.
Of course he'd forget it in here. He wondered just how often the boy wore this ring at all, and rolled his eyes at the notion of being so... silly? Irresponsible? He couldn't fault Adrestus for either without pointing fingers at himself. Always keen to be the younger man's bad influence, he found himself at odds with the growing familiarity between them. For once, he rather enjoyed it, but also lamented the fact that he'd been thrown in Athenia with no discernible timetable as to them leaving.
I should keep this.
The musing lingered in his mind for a while, as he let his gaze trail along the walls of the cabin. It'd be almost too easy, to simply pocket this. But, then what? Adrestus would likely notice, and fuss over it endlessly, and Aivon had not the contacts here to sell it. Nor did he suspect he even could. Still, the glimmering ring tested him, and it was only after assuring himself the difficulty in selling such a hot item was only complemented by the fact that he rather enjoyed the amenities offered to him by the man.
Was it loyalty? Probably not, but it was close enough as he resolved to return it to the man. However, before he left, he caught his eye on something else. A fabulous dyed vermillion chiton, just a few inches longer than it needed to be to fit him properly.
"Oooooooh, that's nice," he murmured as he dressed himself, carefully tying the chiton closed with a white sash before cinching it across his shoulder and making his way off the ship. Peeling his wineskin from the place it hung on the wall, he filled it from the ship's wine barrel before making his way off. The journey to the palati wasn't overtly long, but waylaid by the desperate poor and then stopped at the entrance by guards, he took it upon himself to insist passage.
"Lord Adrestus of Nikolaos sent for me. His ring just finished getting refurbished. It would be a disaster if he wasn't able to wear it, right?"
A sip of wine for himself before he tied the skin around his waist, letting the path of his gaze roam wildly when he was finally admitted. Adrestus, once he caught sight of him, seemed green about the gills. He agreed with the sentiment. With the exception of the multitude of figures being beautifully dressed and satisfying to look at, there was far too much blithering and not enough amusement to catch his attention for very long.
Adrestus was conversing with a vaguely familiar face. His sister? Which one? He narrowed his eyes before his lips curved into a grin. The eldest. He forgot her name, but he liked her face, and was approaching the pair just as another figure joined the fray. A girl? While also blonde, she had discernible differences from the other two, and the introduction he wasn't in time to inject himself into proved that this was someone Adrestus fancied, not a relation.
With a crass wink thrown at the eldest Nikolaos girl, Aivon passed her by, intent on delivering what it was he'd summoned himself to this wretched place to give.
"You've got a good choice in mates, my lord," he teased, letting the title roll from his lips before he threw an arm around the man's shoulder. The princess (he presumed) was about to speak, so the charlatan kept his voice low as he continued along,
"A greedier man might've stolen this."
Placing the ring in Adrestus' hand, he pulled back and lowered his hand, not wanting to further interrupt the proceedings. However, what he did do, was slip Adrestus the wineskin he carried, a low whisper following him.
"You'll probably need this. This place sucks and it's about to get worse."
The announcements were grim, a strange solution for the problem of rioting. But, what did he know?
There was little that could be done for his wife’s anger at this point, he knew. As much as Aimias would have liked to figure out a way to redirect her frustrations, he knew it was pointless to even try. He knew this was his fault, too. He could not escape blame, not when he had played a role in the burning of their home. And while he had been just as vocal in his concerns with Persephone’s need to attend the festival, he had spent far longer as an advisor to royalty to know how it sometimes went.
You could give advice, and it could be sound and rooted in the best of intentions, but that did not mean it was always accepted and heeded.
He had seen plenty of times where Minas had ignored the advice of his own men to do what he thought was best. And he had to learn from a very young age that it was not your place to judge their actions if they did not match what you suggest. But for Iris, that had not been her life. And the loss of her home had felt like a direct correlation to Persephone’s actions. She was not wrong in that assumption, but Aimias could not feel anger at her for not listening to their advice. For they weren’t not responsible for her actions, and that was the give and take of it. Aimias’s frustrations with Persephone came instead from her uncertainty in her own future.
For Aimias, it was simple-- she could stay and be queen or leave and not be. Her uncertainty, her need to see things for herself, had been the reason she’d gone to the festival in the first place. And all it had done was show her that she needed to make a decision, and soon. The longer she stayed hidden within Athenia, the longer the chaos would reign. A simple note to her sister explaining her departure would allow the kingdom to move forward, to make the steps needed to rebuild the confidence in the monarch. If she wanted to remain queen, Persephone had to step up now, stop hiding within the Kingdom and make her stand.
Her reasons for being uncertain were fair enough. If she took a stand, it would most likely mean a civil war. Life would be lost. But it would most likely have to happen to reclaim her throne publicly. But, as he had quietly pointed out to her, it was her duty to make hard decisions like that. If she did not wish to make those choices, perhaps it was better for her to step aside and support her sister’s ascension instead.
He would not blame her for whichever she chose. But she needed to choose.
In that, it was important that Aimias showed not just the people, but Emilia, that he supported her as the ruling monarch. He refused to allow Elias to hold any power over him any longer. Those he was protecting, for the most part, knew of his actions. And they would not let it happen. So dressed in the dark colors of his station, the only sign of his dual role of Lord Argyris was the signet ring on his fingers, Aimias guided his wife towards the princess, both greeting her with low bows before Iris moved from his side. He ignored the look from Elias, instead focusing his attention on the princess.
Where his wife vanished to circulate the room, he made his way to Cicero, standing on the fringes of the room. He watched as the man gave her an encouraging nod, glad that he could at least stand with the man on that. His voice was low to the man as he watched Emilia rise, “Here we go.” He said, a quiet prayer to Athena said as he watched the princess speak to the people for what must have been the first time.
His chest swelled, knowing that her father was watching his daughter with pride as she did what he would have done in her place. She spoke clearly, and while her youth was apparent, her voice did not waiver. And she declared martial law, Aimias kept his face neutral to try and gauge the reactions of those around him. The conversation seemed to raise again, people wondering exactly what it would mean, what would happen now that the guards would keep order in the streets.
“So long as he does not bring question to her orders, this should go as we hoped.” He whispered to Cicero, knowing that the spymaster would know exactly who he was talking about.
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There was little that could be done for his wife’s anger at this point, he knew. As much as Aimias would have liked to figure out a way to redirect her frustrations, he knew it was pointless to even try. He knew this was his fault, too. He could not escape blame, not when he had played a role in the burning of their home. And while he had been just as vocal in his concerns with Persephone’s need to attend the festival, he had spent far longer as an advisor to royalty to know how it sometimes went.
You could give advice, and it could be sound and rooted in the best of intentions, but that did not mean it was always accepted and heeded.
He had seen plenty of times where Minas had ignored the advice of his own men to do what he thought was best. And he had to learn from a very young age that it was not your place to judge their actions if they did not match what you suggest. But for Iris, that had not been her life. And the loss of her home had felt like a direct correlation to Persephone’s actions. She was not wrong in that assumption, but Aimias could not feel anger at her for not listening to their advice. For they weren’t not responsible for her actions, and that was the give and take of it. Aimias’s frustrations with Persephone came instead from her uncertainty in her own future.
For Aimias, it was simple-- she could stay and be queen or leave and not be. Her uncertainty, her need to see things for herself, had been the reason she’d gone to the festival in the first place. And all it had done was show her that she needed to make a decision, and soon. The longer she stayed hidden within Athenia, the longer the chaos would reign. A simple note to her sister explaining her departure would allow the kingdom to move forward, to make the steps needed to rebuild the confidence in the monarch. If she wanted to remain queen, Persephone had to step up now, stop hiding within the Kingdom and make her stand.
Her reasons for being uncertain were fair enough. If she took a stand, it would most likely mean a civil war. Life would be lost. But it would most likely have to happen to reclaim her throne publicly. But, as he had quietly pointed out to her, it was her duty to make hard decisions like that. If she did not wish to make those choices, perhaps it was better for her to step aside and support her sister’s ascension instead.
He would not blame her for whichever she chose. But she needed to choose.
In that, it was important that Aimias showed not just the people, but Emilia, that he supported her as the ruling monarch. He refused to allow Elias to hold any power over him any longer. Those he was protecting, for the most part, knew of his actions. And they would not let it happen. So dressed in the dark colors of his station, the only sign of his dual role of Lord Argyris was the signet ring on his fingers, Aimias guided his wife towards the princess, both greeting her with low bows before Iris moved from his side. He ignored the look from Elias, instead focusing his attention on the princess.
Where his wife vanished to circulate the room, he made his way to Cicero, standing on the fringes of the room. He watched as the man gave her an encouraging nod, glad that he could at least stand with the man on that. His voice was low to the man as he watched Emilia rise, “Here we go.” He said, a quiet prayer to Athena said as he watched the princess speak to the people for what must have been the first time.
His chest swelled, knowing that her father was watching his daughter with pride as she did what he would have done in her place. She spoke clearly, and while her youth was apparent, her voice did not waiver. And she declared martial law, Aimias kept his face neutral to try and gauge the reactions of those around him. The conversation seemed to raise again, people wondering exactly what it would mean, what would happen now that the guards would keep order in the streets.
“So long as he does not bring question to her orders, this should go as we hoped.” He whispered to Cicero, knowing that the spymaster would know exactly who he was talking about.
There was little that could be done for his wife’s anger at this point, he knew. As much as Aimias would have liked to figure out a way to redirect her frustrations, he knew it was pointless to even try. He knew this was his fault, too. He could not escape blame, not when he had played a role in the burning of their home. And while he had been just as vocal in his concerns with Persephone’s need to attend the festival, he had spent far longer as an advisor to royalty to know how it sometimes went.
You could give advice, and it could be sound and rooted in the best of intentions, but that did not mean it was always accepted and heeded.
He had seen plenty of times where Minas had ignored the advice of his own men to do what he thought was best. And he had to learn from a very young age that it was not your place to judge their actions if they did not match what you suggest. But for Iris, that had not been her life. And the loss of her home had felt like a direct correlation to Persephone’s actions. She was not wrong in that assumption, but Aimias could not feel anger at her for not listening to their advice. For they weren’t not responsible for her actions, and that was the give and take of it. Aimias’s frustrations with Persephone came instead from her uncertainty in her own future.
For Aimias, it was simple-- she could stay and be queen or leave and not be. Her uncertainty, her need to see things for herself, had been the reason she’d gone to the festival in the first place. And all it had done was show her that she needed to make a decision, and soon. The longer she stayed hidden within Athenia, the longer the chaos would reign. A simple note to her sister explaining her departure would allow the kingdom to move forward, to make the steps needed to rebuild the confidence in the monarch. If she wanted to remain queen, Persephone had to step up now, stop hiding within the Kingdom and make her stand.
Her reasons for being uncertain were fair enough. If she took a stand, it would most likely mean a civil war. Life would be lost. But it would most likely have to happen to reclaim her throne publicly. But, as he had quietly pointed out to her, it was her duty to make hard decisions like that. If she did not wish to make those choices, perhaps it was better for her to step aside and support her sister’s ascension instead.
He would not blame her for whichever she chose. But she needed to choose.
In that, it was important that Aimias showed not just the people, but Emilia, that he supported her as the ruling monarch. He refused to allow Elias to hold any power over him any longer. Those he was protecting, for the most part, knew of his actions. And they would not let it happen. So dressed in the dark colors of his station, the only sign of his dual role of Lord Argyris was the signet ring on his fingers, Aimias guided his wife towards the princess, both greeting her with low bows before Iris moved from his side. He ignored the look from Elias, instead focusing his attention on the princess.
Where his wife vanished to circulate the room, he made his way to Cicero, standing on the fringes of the room. He watched as the man gave her an encouraging nod, glad that he could at least stand with the man on that. His voice was low to the man as he watched Emilia rise, “Here we go.” He said, a quiet prayer to Athena said as he watched the princess speak to the people for what must have been the first time.
His chest swelled, knowing that her father was watching his daughter with pride as she did what he would have done in her place. She spoke clearly, and while her youth was apparent, her voice did not waiver. And she declared martial law, Aimias kept his face neutral to try and gauge the reactions of those around him. The conversation seemed to raise again, people wondering exactly what it would mean, what would happen now that the guards would keep order in the streets.
“So long as he does not bring question to her orders, this should go as we hoped.” He whispered to Cicero, knowing that the spymaster would know exactly who he was talking about.
The sound of a bell caused Daniil to shoot the other woman a look that said Do shut up. No time for whatever was about to come out of your mouth though I will have to check on Mari to make sure you did not leave claw marks on my friends back. I cannot wait till I can flip the tables on you.
She stepped away and then turned her attention to her cousin's words. I decree Athenia be placed under martial law for now, until peace and order is restored.
Daniil wished she had a drink. Ares Above! She would have to speak with her father to gauge how this was going to affect the family, though she was pretty sure that if this made her want to drink, then he was going to be won't to do so much more. Was there more going on here then met the eye? The young brunette had to wonder if she was indeed missing something. No matter, when he was able, Daniil was sure that Pavlos would explain.
Frowning visibly, she went in search and moved among the gathered listening for anything that would pique her interest.
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The sound of a bell caused Daniil to shoot the other woman a look that said Do shut up. No time for whatever was about to come out of your mouth though I will have to check on Mari to make sure you did not leave claw marks on my friends back. I cannot wait till I can flip the tables on you.
She stepped away and then turned her attention to her cousin's words. I decree Athenia be placed under martial law for now, until peace and order is restored.
Daniil wished she had a drink. Ares Above! She would have to speak with her father to gauge how this was going to affect the family, though she was pretty sure that if this made her want to drink, then he was going to be won't to do so much more. Was there more going on here then met the eye? The young brunette had to wonder if she was indeed missing something. No matter, when he was able, Daniil was sure that Pavlos would explain.
Frowning visibly, she went in search and moved among the gathered listening for anything that would pique her interest.
The sound of a bell caused Daniil to shoot the other woman a look that said Do shut up. No time for whatever was about to come out of your mouth though I will have to check on Mari to make sure you did not leave claw marks on my friends back. I cannot wait till I can flip the tables on you.
She stepped away and then turned her attention to her cousin's words. I decree Athenia be placed under martial law for now, until peace and order is restored.
Daniil wished she had a drink. Ares Above! She would have to speak with her father to gauge how this was going to affect the family, though she was pretty sure that if this made her want to drink, then he was going to be won't to do so much more. Was there more going on here then met the eye? The young brunette had to wonder if she was indeed missing something. No matter, when he was able, Daniil was sure that Pavlos would explain.
Frowning visibly, she went in search and moved among the gathered listening for anything that would pique her interest.
Noting Hector’s presence, Evi inclined her head and smiled politely. She remembered him as one of the gallant few who had fought the mod of commonfolk and had ultimately saved her elder sister from harm. For that, he would forever be held in high esteem in her eyes. He was a good man, remembering the awkward way in which he stood outside Marietta’s room as she all but bumped into him. Maybe they weren’t friends - Evi barely knew the man save that brief interlude of him staying with them in the Archontiko Antonis, but she trusted him all the same.
Her thoughts didn’t linger on Hector for long though. Marietta flinched. It was minute, nearly imperceptible, but, being as close to her sister as she was, she was so violently attuned to Marietta’s every breath there was no way he could miss it. Though Elysia was a master of knowing people, and no doubt she had seen and clocked Marietta’s reaction too. That woman was far too observant, of all the people to set Marietta off, it had to be the one who would recognise it, and possibly even use the information.
Her gaze turned sideways to watch her sister out of the corner of her eye. Evi knew this was too much too soon, but Marietta wouldn’t thank her for pointing that out so she stayed silent. Even when Marietta moved her body closer to Evi, she bit her tongue to stop her from saying anything that might upset the other girl. Instead, she tried to look interested in the conversation going on in their little group.
Clearly Marietta was uncomfortable with Elysia, though Evi had no inkling of why. Was it Elysia in particular, or was it people in general? Crowds perhaps? the room was filling up fast, and Evi made a silent promise to herself to not leave her sister’s side unless Marietta indicated that she was coping well.
“Ah, very good, I’m glad to hear that.” She desperately clutched at straws, trying to think of other things to say. Normally the words would flow quickly and easily, but she was more concerned about her sister and keeping the conversation flowing, while her sister recovered herself, that all thought seemed to trail out of her mind before she could latch onto it. Marietta did quickly, and followed up with her own question. Elysia responded politely then turned her attention away. She gave a quick word of farewell to the two sisters and left to circle the room, as she put it.
Evi let out a breath of air that she didn’t realise she had been holding. Now that they were alone, Evi brushed her hand against her sister’s and whispered, “Are you sure you are well enough to be here?” She knew it was like to upset Marietta if Evi fawned over her, but she had to ask just once, quietly, while no one was listening.
Then she heard the bell ring, and silence fell over the room as all turned towards Princess Emilia, who was sat on her throne. For a moment, Evi forgot that the princess was of an age with her. She seemed so in control in that moment. Evi wondered if it was a facade, how the girl was really feeling underneath it all. ‘Martial Law’ Evi thought as she heard the words from Emilia.
Evi’s fist reaction was to wonder how much of this plan was actually Elias’ idea, or whether the princess had decided it for herself. Following the riots, martial law didn’t sound all that unreasonable, as Emilia clearly had an interest in protecting the city from further violence. “Well… I suppose if it protects us from further… adverse events…”
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Noting Hector’s presence, Evi inclined her head and smiled politely. She remembered him as one of the gallant few who had fought the mod of commonfolk and had ultimately saved her elder sister from harm. For that, he would forever be held in high esteem in her eyes. He was a good man, remembering the awkward way in which he stood outside Marietta’s room as she all but bumped into him. Maybe they weren’t friends - Evi barely knew the man save that brief interlude of him staying with them in the Archontiko Antonis, but she trusted him all the same.
Her thoughts didn’t linger on Hector for long though. Marietta flinched. It was minute, nearly imperceptible, but, being as close to her sister as she was, she was so violently attuned to Marietta’s every breath there was no way he could miss it. Though Elysia was a master of knowing people, and no doubt she had seen and clocked Marietta’s reaction too. That woman was far too observant, of all the people to set Marietta off, it had to be the one who would recognise it, and possibly even use the information.
Her gaze turned sideways to watch her sister out of the corner of her eye. Evi knew this was too much too soon, but Marietta wouldn’t thank her for pointing that out so she stayed silent. Even when Marietta moved her body closer to Evi, she bit her tongue to stop her from saying anything that might upset the other girl. Instead, she tried to look interested in the conversation going on in their little group.
Clearly Marietta was uncomfortable with Elysia, though Evi had no inkling of why. Was it Elysia in particular, or was it people in general? Crowds perhaps? the room was filling up fast, and Evi made a silent promise to herself to not leave her sister’s side unless Marietta indicated that she was coping well.
“Ah, very good, I’m glad to hear that.” She desperately clutched at straws, trying to think of other things to say. Normally the words would flow quickly and easily, but she was more concerned about her sister and keeping the conversation flowing, while her sister recovered herself, that all thought seemed to trail out of her mind before she could latch onto it. Marietta did quickly, and followed up with her own question. Elysia responded politely then turned her attention away. She gave a quick word of farewell to the two sisters and left to circle the room, as she put it.
Evi let out a breath of air that she didn’t realise she had been holding. Now that they were alone, Evi brushed her hand against her sister’s and whispered, “Are you sure you are well enough to be here?” She knew it was like to upset Marietta if Evi fawned over her, but she had to ask just once, quietly, while no one was listening.
Then she heard the bell ring, and silence fell over the room as all turned towards Princess Emilia, who was sat on her throne. For a moment, Evi forgot that the princess was of an age with her. She seemed so in control in that moment. Evi wondered if it was a facade, how the girl was really feeling underneath it all. ‘Martial Law’ Evi thought as she heard the words from Emilia.
Evi’s fist reaction was to wonder how much of this plan was actually Elias’ idea, or whether the princess had decided it for herself. Following the riots, martial law didn’t sound all that unreasonable, as Emilia clearly had an interest in protecting the city from further violence. “Well… I suppose if it protects us from further… adverse events…”
Noting Hector’s presence, Evi inclined her head and smiled politely. She remembered him as one of the gallant few who had fought the mod of commonfolk and had ultimately saved her elder sister from harm. For that, he would forever be held in high esteem in her eyes. He was a good man, remembering the awkward way in which he stood outside Marietta’s room as she all but bumped into him. Maybe they weren’t friends - Evi barely knew the man save that brief interlude of him staying with them in the Archontiko Antonis, but she trusted him all the same.
Her thoughts didn’t linger on Hector for long though. Marietta flinched. It was minute, nearly imperceptible, but, being as close to her sister as she was, she was so violently attuned to Marietta’s every breath there was no way he could miss it. Though Elysia was a master of knowing people, and no doubt she had seen and clocked Marietta’s reaction too. That woman was far too observant, of all the people to set Marietta off, it had to be the one who would recognise it, and possibly even use the information.
Her gaze turned sideways to watch her sister out of the corner of her eye. Evi knew this was too much too soon, but Marietta wouldn’t thank her for pointing that out so she stayed silent. Even when Marietta moved her body closer to Evi, she bit her tongue to stop her from saying anything that might upset the other girl. Instead, she tried to look interested in the conversation going on in their little group.
Clearly Marietta was uncomfortable with Elysia, though Evi had no inkling of why. Was it Elysia in particular, or was it people in general? Crowds perhaps? the room was filling up fast, and Evi made a silent promise to herself to not leave her sister’s side unless Marietta indicated that she was coping well.
“Ah, very good, I’m glad to hear that.” She desperately clutched at straws, trying to think of other things to say. Normally the words would flow quickly and easily, but she was more concerned about her sister and keeping the conversation flowing, while her sister recovered herself, that all thought seemed to trail out of her mind before she could latch onto it. Marietta did quickly, and followed up with her own question. Elysia responded politely then turned her attention away. She gave a quick word of farewell to the two sisters and left to circle the room, as she put it.
Evi let out a breath of air that she didn’t realise she had been holding. Now that they were alone, Evi brushed her hand against her sister’s and whispered, “Are you sure you are well enough to be here?” She knew it was like to upset Marietta if Evi fawned over her, but she had to ask just once, quietly, while no one was listening.
Then she heard the bell ring, and silence fell over the room as all turned towards Princess Emilia, who was sat on her throne. For a moment, Evi forgot that the princess was of an age with her. She seemed so in control in that moment. Evi wondered if it was a facade, how the girl was really feeling underneath it all. ‘Martial Law’ Evi thought as she heard the words from Emilia.
Evi’s fist reaction was to wonder how much of this plan was actually Elias’ idea, or whether the princess had decided it for herself. Following the riots, martial law didn’t sound all that unreasonable, as Emilia clearly had an interest in protecting the city from further violence. “Well… I suppose if it protects us from further… adverse events…”
She did not miss Lord Pavlos’s coldness nor Lady Daniil’s either. Whatever the father did, the daughter did the same. Perfect little puppet. But if Elysia was going to get her feelings hurt for every cold shoulder she encountered at court, then she was doomed to a lot of hurts indeed. Thankfully she was made of sterner stuff than that and dipped ever so slightly for Lady Daniil, beaming at her.
The bell rang and Daniil shot her a look of the purest loathing that Elysia’s smile froze in place and she tilted her head. What in the world got into the plain little urchin of a Lady? The hostility was palpable but she shook it off, confused as to where it was coming from. She’d pounce Daniil later. This would not do, not do at all. Along with the others, Elysia turned her attention to listen to the Princess’s announcement.
Martial Law. Part of her was happy with this turn. After all, her house was one of the ones that had burned and she was less inclined to have such a bleeding heart for those who had turned their wrath on her and her husband and children when she’d had no part whatsoever to play in their misfortunes. She excused herself from Lord Rafail and Lady Daniil, knowing now wasn’t the time to be in the girl’s sphere. ...if there ever was a good time. Elysia wasn’t the only one who found her off putting.
She moved in the direction of one of the whine trays and did a doubletake at Chrysanthe. “Hello,” she smiled. “I know your face...where have I seen you before? It’s not here in the palati, I know most of the servants.” She took a cup of wine and lifted it to her lips, waiting for Chrysanthe’s answer and not knowing, nor would she have cared if she had, that she was blocking Chrysanthe from reaching Hector and Dima.
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She did not miss Lord Pavlos’s coldness nor Lady Daniil’s either. Whatever the father did, the daughter did the same. Perfect little puppet. But if Elysia was going to get her feelings hurt for every cold shoulder she encountered at court, then she was doomed to a lot of hurts indeed. Thankfully she was made of sterner stuff than that and dipped ever so slightly for Lady Daniil, beaming at her.
The bell rang and Daniil shot her a look of the purest loathing that Elysia’s smile froze in place and she tilted her head. What in the world got into the plain little urchin of a Lady? The hostility was palpable but she shook it off, confused as to where it was coming from. She’d pounce Daniil later. This would not do, not do at all. Along with the others, Elysia turned her attention to listen to the Princess’s announcement.
Martial Law. Part of her was happy with this turn. After all, her house was one of the ones that had burned and she was less inclined to have such a bleeding heart for those who had turned their wrath on her and her husband and children when she’d had no part whatsoever to play in their misfortunes. She excused herself from Lord Rafail and Lady Daniil, knowing now wasn’t the time to be in the girl’s sphere. ...if there ever was a good time. Elysia wasn’t the only one who found her off putting.
She moved in the direction of one of the whine trays and did a doubletake at Chrysanthe. “Hello,” she smiled. “I know your face...where have I seen you before? It’s not here in the palati, I know most of the servants.” She took a cup of wine and lifted it to her lips, waiting for Chrysanthe’s answer and not knowing, nor would she have cared if she had, that she was blocking Chrysanthe from reaching Hector and Dima.
She did not miss Lord Pavlos’s coldness nor Lady Daniil’s either. Whatever the father did, the daughter did the same. Perfect little puppet. But if Elysia was going to get her feelings hurt for every cold shoulder she encountered at court, then she was doomed to a lot of hurts indeed. Thankfully she was made of sterner stuff than that and dipped ever so slightly for Lady Daniil, beaming at her.
The bell rang and Daniil shot her a look of the purest loathing that Elysia’s smile froze in place and she tilted her head. What in the world got into the plain little urchin of a Lady? The hostility was palpable but she shook it off, confused as to where it was coming from. She’d pounce Daniil later. This would not do, not do at all. Along with the others, Elysia turned her attention to listen to the Princess’s announcement.
Martial Law. Part of her was happy with this turn. After all, her house was one of the ones that had burned and she was less inclined to have such a bleeding heart for those who had turned their wrath on her and her husband and children when she’d had no part whatsoever to play in their misfortunes. She excused herself from Lord Rafail and Lady Daniil, knowing now wasn’t the time to be in the girl’s sphere. ...if there ever was a good time. Elysia wasn’t the only one who found her off putting.
She moved in the direction of one of the whine trays and did a doubletake at Chrysanthe. “Hello,” she smiled. “I know your face...where have I seen you before? It’s not here in the palati, I know most of the servants.” She took a cup of wine and lifted it to her lips, waiting for Chrysanthe’s answer and not knowing, nor would she have cared if she had, that she was blocking Chrysanthe from reaching Hector and Dima.
His tolerance for this farce was been strained to its limit. Through mishap and ill fate, his hold on the princess had slipped and the rage that burned inside his chest was hot and all consuming. There were still several things in his favor, however, and though he’d been forced to yield to her ability to hold court on her own, they were still engaged. He would be king soon enough and the little twit would be put back in her cage while her betters made the decisions she wasn’t smart enough to make.
Elias was not taken by any person in the room, no matter how splendidly dressed they presented themselves, as much as he was with his own appearance. Widely considered to be the most beautiful man in Athenia, he fancied himself the most beautiful man in all of Greece and possibly the world. These ungrateful fools were blessed to be in his mere presence and so he stood attempting not to look bored as a barrage of women fawned around his idiot little charge. The real thorn in his side was Alehandros and then the master informer who lurked in the shadows. Choosing not to give Cicero even a glance, Elias looked towards Lord Rafail with a fonder eye but no actual affection. The only person Elias truly loved was Elias.
Annoyance ran high in him that his family’s soldiers were sent to the war in Egypt at all. He was not unaware of the treaty which was why he’d sent a show of ships already. Did it matter that there were no actual soldiers on the ships? No. Athenia had contributed by ‘donating’ vessels. Why did they need more? Perhaps Taengea should have planned its wars better. He was a little offended they’d only sent an emissary and not, say, the new king. Even Colchis had been rude and not asked. Then the little princess runs off behind his back and sent men, his men, his father’s men, leaving the Stravos without a standing army. His eyes slid towards Alehandros where he knew the blame truly lay.
He shifted in his chair, looking brilliant in his sulkiness. It didn’t seem to matter what Elias did - he looked amazing doing it. If only there was a mirror, then he’d have something interesting to look at. Beside him, Emilia tinkled her bell and it took all his inner reserves not to glare at her. Everything she did was powerfully irritating. It was like the stupid radiated off her in such violent waves, all incased in a darling creampuff exterior that people adored for some reason. He liked it because it made her useful and manipulatable. Much easier to wield than her unyielding, snotty sister. The thought of Persephone living and breathing made his fist clench and he shot another look in Rafail’s direction. They’d have words later.
Emilia stood and Elias sat up straighter, watching her and willing her not to be embarrassing. If he had to sit through her thanking each of these buffoons by turn…
“I do not wish to hide under the assumption that all is well-”
Elias felt the first inklings that something was wrong.
I'm sure we all know of the condition our kingdom is in, as well as the straits our people are now in.” Okay maybe he preferred her to thank these idiots. Maybe he should step in and whisper to her to stop being a downer. “So let's not hide it, shall we?” Elias sat straight up. Uh, yes? Let’s hide it. What was the little fool playing at?
”We have problems, and we need to fix them. But we cannot have any form of movement forward if we do not have some form of control now. The riots were upsetting-” Elias kept his features schooled but inwardly he was envisioning his hands around her pretty little throat. ”Because it means a kingdom my father and sister had held in peace for so long is now unhappy over something, and it... is my duty to ensure something is done right by them.”
If this speech didn’t end with “Marry Elias Immediately” he felt that maybe he should call the guards for a distraction and trundle this bitch out of here.
“As such, I decree Athenia be placed under martial law for now, until peace and order is restored. The Athenian Guards will have all the authority to ensure as such, until we can ensure ourselves that the kingdom will no longer go through such upheaval.”
Elias bit back the surprise. She was issuing decrees? Under whose orders? He stood, then, touching her back to try and get her to pay attention to him. Obviously she’d been paying attention to the wrong people. People might assume him to be nothing but entirely, devastatingly, unearthly handsome, and of course they were half right. He was those things. But he had a mind and he knew when gentleness was needed, rather than force.
“Darling,” he said into her ear. “You seem tense. Perhaps we should withdraw? That’s enough to leave them with.” And to keep her from saying anything else.
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His tolerance for this farce was been strained to its limit. Through mishap and ill fate, his hold on the princess had slipped and the rage that burned inside his chest was hot and all consuming. There were still several things in his favor, however, and though he’d been forced to yield to her ability to hold court on her own, they were still engaged. He would be king soon enough and the little twit would be put back in her cage while her betters made the decisions she wasn’t smart enough to make.
Elias was not taken by any person in the room, no matter how splendidly dressed they presented themselves, as much as he was with his own appearance. Widely considered to be the most beautiful man in Athenia, he fancied himself the most beautiful man in all of Greece and possibly the world. These ungrateful fools were blessed to be in his mere presence and so he stood attempting not to look bored as a barrage of women fawned around his idiot little charge. The real thorn in his side was Alehandros and then the master informer who lurked in the shadows. Choosing not to give Cicero even a glance, Elias looked towards Lord Rafail with a fonder eye but no actual affection. The only person Elias truly loved was Elias.
Annoyance ran high in him that his family’s soldiers were sent to the war in Egypt at all. He was not unaware of the treaty which was why he’d sent a show of ships already. Did it matter that there were no actual soldiers on the ships? No. Athenia had contributed by ‘donating’ vessels. Why did they need more? Perhaps Taengea should have planned its wars better. He was a little offended they’d only sent an emissary and not, say, the new king. Even Colchis had been rude and not asked. Then the little princess runs off behind his back and sent men, his men, his father’s men, leaving the Stravos without a standing army. His eyes slid towards Alehandros where he knew the blame truly lay.
He shifted in his chair, looking brilliant in his sulkiness. It didn’t seem to matter what Elias did - he looked amazing doing it. If only there was a mirror, then he’d have something interesting to look at. Beside him, Emilia tinkled her bell and it took all his inner reserves not to glare at her. Everything she did was powerfully irritating. It was like the stupid radiated off her in such violent waves, all incased in a darling creampuff exterior that people adored for some reason. He liked it because it made her useful and manipulatable. Much easier to wield than her unyielding, snotty sister. The thought of Persephone living and breathing made his fist clench and he shot another look in Rafail’s direction. They’d have words later.
Emilia stood and Elias sat up straighter, watching her and willing her not to be embarrassing. If he had to sit through her thanking each of these buffoons by turn…
“I do not wish to hide under the assumption that all is well-”
Elias felt the first inklings that something was wrong.
I'm sure we all know of the condition our kingdom is in, as well as the straits our people are now in.” Okay maybe he preferred her to thank these idiots. Maybe he should step in and whisper to her to stop being a downer. “So let's not hide it, shall we?” Elias sat straight up. Uh, yes? Let’s hide it. What was the little fool playing at?
”We have problems, and we need to fix them. But we cannot have any form of movement forward if we do not have some form of control now. The riots were upsetting-” Elias kept his features schooled but inwardly he was envisioning his hands around her pretty little throat. ”Because it means a kingdom my father and sister had held in peace for so long is now unhappy over something, and it... is my duty to ensure something is done right by them.”
If this speech didn’t end with “Marry Elias Immediately” he felt that maybe he should call the guards for a distraction and trundle this bitch out of here.
“As such, I decree Athenia be placed under martial law for now, until peace and order is restored. The Athenian Guards will have all the authority to ensure as such, until we can ensure ourselves that the kingdom will no longer go through such upheaval.”
Elias bit back the surprise. She was issuing decrees? Under whose orders? He stood, then, touching her back to try and get her to pay attention to him. Obviously she’d been paying attention to the wrong people. People might assume him to be nothing but entirely, devastatingly, unearthly handsome, and of course they were half right. He was those things. But he had a mind and he knew when gentleness was needed, rather than force.
“Darling,” he said into her ear. “You seem tense. Perhaps we should withdraw? That’s enough to leave them with.” And to keep her from saying anything else.
His tolerance for this farce was been strained to its limit. Through mishap and ill fate, his hold on the princess had slipped and the rage that burned inside his chest was hot and all consuming. There were still several things in his favor, however, and though he’d been forced to yield to her ability to hold court on her own, they were still engaged. He would be king soon enough and the little twit would be put back in her cage while her betters made the decisions she wasn’t smart enough to make.
Elias was not taken by any person in the room, no matter how splendidly dressed they presented themselves, as much as he was with his own appearance. Widely considered to be the most beautiful man in Athenia, he fancied himself the most beautiful man in all of Greece and possibly the world. These ungrateful fools were blessed to be in his mere presence and so he stood attempting not to look bored as a barrage of women fawned around his idiot little charge. The real thorn in his side was Alehandros and then the master informer who lurked in the shadows. Choosing not to give Cicero even a glance, Elias looked towards Lord Rafail with a fonder eye but no actual affection. The only person Elias truly loved was Elias.
Annoyance ran high in him that his family’s soldiers were sent to the war in Egypt at all. He was not unaware of the treaty which was why he’d sent a show of ships already. Did it matter that there were no actual soldiers on the ships? No. Athenia had contributed by ‘donating’ vessels. Why did they need more? Perhaps Taengea should have planned its wars better. He was a little offended they’d only sent an emissary and not, say, the new king. Even Colchis had been rude and not asked. Then the little princess runs off behind his back and sent men, his men, his father’s men, leaving the Stravos without a standing army. His eyes slid towards Alehandros where he knew the blame truly lay.
He shifted in his chair, looking brilliant in his sulkiness. It didn’t seem to matter what Elias did - he looked amazing doing it. If only there was a mirror, then he’d have something interesting to look at. Beside him, Emilia tinkled her bell and it took all his inner reserves not to glare at her. Everything she did was powerfully irritating. It was like the stupid radiated off her in such violent waves, all incased in a darling creampuff exterior that people adored for some reason. He liked it because it made her useful and manipulatable. Much easier to wield than her unyielding, snotty sister. The thought of Persephone living and breathing made his fist clench and he shot another look in Rafail’s direction. They’d have words later.
Emilia stood and Elias sat up straighter, watching her and willing her not to be embarrassing. If he had to sit through her thanking each of these buffoons by turn…
“I do not wish to hide under the assumption that all is well-”
Elias felt the first inklings that something was wrong.
I'm sure we all know of the condition our kingdom is in, as well as the straits our people are now in.” Okay maybe he preferred her to thank these idiots. Maybe he should step in and whisper to her to stop being a downer. “So let's not hide it, shall we?” Elias sat straight up. Uh, yes? Let’s hide it. What was the little fool playing at?
”We have problems, and we need to fix them. But we cannot have any form of movement forward if we do not have some form of control now. The riots were upsetting-” Elias kept his features schooled but inwardly he was envisioning his hands around her pretty little throat. ”Because it means a kingdom my father and sister had held in peace for so long is now unhappy over something, and it... is my duty to ensure something is done right by them.”
If this speech didn’t end with “Marry Elias Immediately” he felt that maybe he should call the guards for a distraction and trundle this bitch out of here.
“As such, I decree Athenia be placed under martial law for now, until peace and order is restored. The Athenian Guards will have all the authority to ensure as such, until we can ensure ourselves that the kingdom will no longer go through such upheaval.”
Elias bit back the surprise. She was issuing decrees? Under whose orders? He stood, then, touching her back to try and get her to pay attention to him. Obviously she’d been paying attention to the wrong people. People might assume him to be nothing but entirely, devastatingly, unearthly handsome, and of course they were half right. He was those things. But he had a mind and he knew when gentleness was needed, rather than force.
“Darling,” he said into her ear. “You seem tense. Perhaps we should withdraw? That’s enough to leave them with.” And to keep her from saying anything else.
Lesley knew that as soon as he stepped into the space behind his charge, he needed not to fidget, to give the appearance of the steady, calm, disinterested soldier that he found so uncomfortable. Still, he could manage, especially for short periods, and he'd had plenty of practice over the last few months. Emilia stood to address the room, and he scanned the crowded nobles yet again. This could go any which way at all.
Then he caught the look on Elias's face out of the corner of his eye, and the urge to constantly move vanished. This could still go any number of ways, but well was not one of them.
Wait. Surprisingly, Lesley was perfectly good at waiting, when his blood was up and he was anticipating a fight. Better than the rest of the time, anyway. If you didn't see the tension in his shoulders and back, he looked perfectly calm, but his eyes were on the two royals on the dias rather than the room, now.
Elias tried that quiet, patronizing tone that had always worked before, and Lesley couldn't blame him for that. Expecting Emilia's entire personality to change in a month wasn't the first that would come to anyone's head. She'd always wanted to please the people around her; assuming that she'd still listen to him as well as Cicero and Alehandros wasn't unreasonable.
But the thing was, Emilia's tender-hearted soul hadn't been swayed by sweet words, this time, but by watching people - her people, even the ones she hadn't met - desperate enough to risk their lives assaulting the palati because they saw no other path to survival. She would fold like Egyptian linen if only her own preferences were under assault, but to help others? Lesley was pretty sure she actually had a spine somewhere under the layers of cotton fluff.
Too bad for Elias if he didn't notice in time.
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Lesley knew that as soon as he stepped into the space behind his charge, he needed not to fidget, to give the appearance of the steady, calm, disinterested soldier that he found so uncomfortable. Still, he could manage, especially for short periods, and he'd had plenty of practice over the last few months. Emilia stood to address the room, and he scanned the crowded nobles yet again. This could go any which way at all.
Then he caught the look on Elias's face out of the corner of his eye, and the urge to constantly move vanished. This could still go any number of ways, but well was not one of them.
Wait. Surprisingly, Lesley was perfectly good at waiting, when his blood was up and he was anticipating a fight. Better than the rest of the time, anyway. If you didn't see the tension in his shoulders and back, he looked perfectly calm, but his eyes were on the two royals on the dias rather than the room, now.
Elias tried that quiet, patronizing tone that had always worked before, and Lesley couldn't blame him for that. Expecting Emilia's entire personality to change in a month wasn't the first that would come to anyone's head. She'd always wanted to please the people around her; assuming that she'd still listen to him as well as Cicero and Alehandros wasn't unreasonable.
But the thing was, Emilia's tender-hearted soul hadn't been swayed by sweet words, this time, but by watching people - her people, even the ones she hadn't met - desperate enough to risk their lives assaulting the palati because they saw no other path to survival. She would fold like Egyptian linen if only her own preferences were under assault, but to help others? Lesley was pretty sure she actually had a spine somewhere under the layers of cotton fluff.
Too bad for Elias if he didn't notice in time.
Lesley knew that as soon as he stepped into the space behind his charge, he needed not to fidget, to give the appearance of the steady, calm, disinterested soldier that he found so uncomfortable. Still, he could manage, especially for short periods, and he'd had plenty of practice over the last few months. Emilia stood to address the room, and he scanned the crowded nobles yet again. This could go any which way at all.
Then he caught the look on Elias's face out of the corner of his eye, and the urge to constantly move vanished. This could still go any number of ways, but well was not one of them.
Wait. Surprisingly, Lesley was perfectly good at waiting, when his blood was up and he was anticipating a fight. Better than the rest of the time, anyway. If you didn't see the tension in his shoulders and back, he looked perfectly calm, but his eyes were on the two royals on the dias rather than the room, now.
Elias tried that quiet, patronizing tone that had always worked before, and Lesley couldn't blame him for that. Expecting Emilia's entire personality to change in a month wasn't the first that would come to anyone's head. She'd always wanted to please the people around her; assuming that she'd still listen to him as well as Cicero and Alehandros wasn't unreasonable.
But the thing was, Emilia's tender-hearted soul hadn't been swayed by sweet words, this time, but by watching people - her people, even the ones she hadn't met - desperate enough to risk their lives assaulting the palati because they saw no other path to survival. She would fold like Egyptian linen if only her own preferences were under assault, but to help others? Lesley was pretty sure she actually had a spine somewhere under the layers of cotton fluff.
Too bad for Elias if he didn't notice in time.
From her vantage point behind the Princess, Hebe could see everything that went on in the room. Her eyes wandered from person to person noting who they were talking to and how they were dressed. The only bad part was that she couldn’t hear anything they said, but facial expressions and body language were carefully memorized. Nobody looked like they were plotting against her mistress. They were just socializing, like they always did.
The young girl frowned when she saw Marietta. After what she had been through, she should have stayed at home. Her second-eldest sister had always been protective of her. Hebe wondered what she would think if she knew that she felt protective too. Mistress Elysia and Evi joined her, which was good. She didn’t need to be left alone.
Her attention was diverted by those who greeted the Princess. Rene of Nikolaos had a gift for her and Hebe took the beautiful vase with a smile, holding it carefully in both hands to present it to Emilia. Her shoulder still ached a bit, but she refused to let it show.
The artwork seemed to represent both Xanthos sisters. Did Lady Rene know something about the Queen’s whereabouts? Did it contain a message only the Princess would understand? My imagination is running away with me again, she thought, handing the gift to a servant after her mistress had appraised it.
Not long afterward, a bell sounded, signifying that Emilia was about the speak. Silence undulated through the hall as voices stilled. The Princess’ speech was brief and to the point. Of course she wanted to fix the chaos that Elias had brought upon Athenia. Hebe didn’t think martial law was too strict. It was what they needed after the riots that had injured so many people, nobles and commoners alike. The young brunette felt safer already, knowing that guards would be patrolling the streets day and night.
Elias stood when Emilia finished. Was he going to attempt to negate her ruling? He had no right to say anything at all. He was responsible for the mess that the kingdom was in. Did no one else see it but the youngest person in the room? He said nothing to the courtiers, instead whispering something into the Princess’ ear. He had no control over her anymore, and she didn’t have to do as he said. Hebe strained her ears, hoping to hear. I wish he would move closer to me so I can kick him in the shins.
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From her vantage point behind the Princess, Hebe could see everything that went on in the room. Her eyes wandered from person to person noting who they were talking to and how they were dressed. The only bad part was that she couldn’t hear anything they said, but facial expressions and body language were carefully memorized. Nobody looked like they were plotting against her mistress. They were just socializing, like they always did.
The young girl frowned when she saw Marietta. After what she had been through, she should have stayed at home. Her second-eldest sister had always been protective of her. Hebe wondered what she would think if she knew that she felt protective too. Mistress Elysia and Evi joined her, which was good. She didn’t need to be left alone.
Her attention was diverted by those who greeted the Princess. Rene of Nikolaos had a gift for her and Hebe took the beautiful vase with a smile, holding it carefully in both hands to present it to Emilia. Her shoulder still ached a bit, but she refused to let it show.
The artwork seemed to represent both Xanthos sisters. Did Lady Rene know something about the Queen’s whereabouts? Did it contain a message only the Princess would understand? My imagination is running away with me again, she thought, handing the gift to a servant after her mistress had appraised it.
Not long afterward, a bell sounded, signifying that Emilia was about the speak. Silence undulated through the hall as voices stilled. The Princess’ speech was brief and to the point. Of course she wanted to fix the chaos that Elias had brought upon Athenia. Hebe didn’t think martial law was too strict. It was what they needed after the riots that had injured so many people, nobles and commoners alike. The young brunette felt safer already, knowing that guards would be patrolling the streets day and night.
Elias stood when Emilia finished. Was he going to attempt to negate her ruling? He had no right to say anything at all. He was responsible for the mess that the kingdom was in. Did no one else see it but the youngest person in the room? He said nothing to the courtiers, instead whispering something into the Princess’ ear. He had no control over her anymore, and she didn’t have to do as he said. Hebe strained her ears, hoping to hear. I wish he would move closer to me so I can kick him in the shins.
From her vantage point behind the Princess, Hebe could see everything that went on in the room. Her eyes wandered from person to person noting who they were talking to and how they were dressed. The only bad part was that she couldn’t hear anything they said, but facial expressions and body language were carefully memorized. Nobody looked like they were plotting against her mistress. They were just socializing, like they always did.
The young girl frowned when she saw Marietta. After what she had been through, she should have stayed at home. Her second-eldest sister had always been protective of her. Hebe wondered what she would think if she knew that she felt protective too. Mistress Elysia and Evi joined her, which was good. She didn’t need to be left alone.
Her attention was diverted by those who greeted the Princess. Rene of Nikolaos had a gift for her and Hebe took the beautiful vase with a smile, holding it carefully in both hands to present it to Emilia. Her shoulder still ached a bit, but she refused to let it show.
The artwork seemed to represent both Xanthos sisters. Did Lady Rene know something about the Queen’s whereabouts? Did it contain a message only the Princess would understand? My imagination is running away with me again, she thought, handing the gift to a servant after her mistress had appraised it.
Not long afterward, a bell sounded, signifying that Emilia was about the speak. Silence undulated through the hall as voices stilled. The Princess’ speech was brief and to the point. Of course she wanted to fix the chaos that Elias had brought upon Athenia. Hebe didn’t think martial law was too strict. It was what they needed after the riots that had injured so many people, nobles and commoners alike. The young brunette felt safer already, knowing that guards would be patrolling the streets day and night.
Elias stood when Emilia finished. Was he going to attempt to negate her ruling? He had no right to say anything at all. He was responsible for the mess that the kingdom was in. Did no one else see it but the youngest person in the room? He said nothing to the courtiers, instead whispering something into the Princess’ ear. He had no control over her anymore, and she didn’t have to do as he said. Hebe strained her ears, hoping to hear. I wish he would move closer to me so I can kick him in the shins.
A month after the riot, people were moving on. Bruises were healing slowly and the angry red marks on so many nobles skin were starting to fade. But Sofia of Marikas was still trapped in her shame. She was draped in a dark blue dress that oozed more fabric than was necessary, hoping she could hide away in it or melt into the ground. She would not have come to court today at all, were it not for the necessity of honouring her family and their name. After the previous month’s events, Sofia knew she could have little influence over Athenia’s politics, and she was unenthusiastic at the thought of being involved in any way from this point forward. She did not feel like a nearly twenty-six-year-old woman. She felt small and ashamed. Everyone was moving on and she was nearly alone in her fear and her grief at losing the woman she had always believed herself to be.
Sofia had been unable to face her cousin Danae since the riots. How could she look into the eyes of a teenage whom she had failed so miserably? And then the shame spiraled, because others had had it worse. Marietta had been in a coma, for gods’ sake. Sofia had visited her once or twice, and felt the shame burn even deeper. So much pain. And now that it was over, still Sofia of Marikas was weak. She could not look into the eyes of her cousin, she could scarcely face the sea of people present in court. She departed from her brothers and niece soon after they arrived, preferring to keep to the outskirts of the mingling group, her back always pointed to a wall, where she could see anyone who might approach her. Not that it mattered. She was still defenseless, trapped in a massive room filled with people she did not wish to see.
At last the mingling stopped with the sound of Emilia’s voice. Sofia listened to the young princess speak, unsure of where the little speech was heading. Even in the midst of her wallowing self-pity, Sofia could tell that Emilia’s confidence was slowly growing. She was stepping into her sister’s shoes. And then, I decree Athenia be placed under martial law. Sofia was conflicted. The guards would protect her and all the other royals and nobles, yes, though she had diminishing faith in their riot-preventing abilities. But her family was hardly comprised of Xanthos supporters, and Sofia felt a new fear enter her heart. Raf had already committed a monstrous act against the crown. Would he be safe with soldiers under her command patrolling the streets?
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A month after the riot, people were moving on. Bruises were healing slowly and the angry red marks on so many nobles skin were starting to fade. But Sofia of Marikas was still trapped in her shame. She was draped in a dark blue dress that oozed more fabric than was necessary, hoping she could hide away in it or melt into the ground. She would not have come to court today at all, were it not for the necessity of honouring her family and their name. After the previous month’s events, Sofia knew she could have little influence over Athenia’s politics, and she was unenthusiastic at the thought of being involved in any way from this point forward. She did not feel like a nearly twenty-six-year-old woman. She felt small and ashamed. Everyone was moving on and she was nearly alone in her fear and her grief at losing the woman she had always believed herself to be.
Sofia had been unable to face her cousin Danae since the riots. How could she look into the eyes of a teenage whom she had failed so miserably? And then the shame spiraled, because others had had it worse. Marietta had been in a coma, for gods’ sake. Sofia had visited her once or twice, and felt the shame burn even deeper. So much pain. And now that it was over, still Sofia of Marikas was weak. She could not look into the eyes of her cousin, she could scarcely face the sea of people present in court. She departed from her brothers and niece soon after they arrived, preferring to keep to the outskirts of the mingling group, her back always pointed to a wall, where she could see anyone who might approach her. Not that it mattered. She was still defenseless, trapped in a massive room filled with people she did not wish to see.
At last the mingling stopped with the sound of Emilia’s voice. Sofia listened to the young princess speak, unsure of where the little speech was heading. Even in the midst of her wallowing self-pity, Sofia could tell that Emilia’s confidence was slowly growing. She was stepping into her sister’s shoes. And then, I decree Athenia be placed under martial law. Sofia was conflicted. The guards would protect her and all the other royals and nobles, yes, though she had diminishing faith in their riot-preventing abilities. But her family was hardly comprised of Xanthos supporters, and Sofia felt a new fear enter her heart. Raf had already committed a monstrous act against the crown. Would he be safe with soldiers under her command patrolling the streets?
A month after the riot, people were moving on. Bruises were healing slowly and the angry red marks on so many nobles skin were starting to fade. But Sofia of Marikas was still trapped in her shame. She was draped in a dark blue dress that oozed more fabric than was necessary, hoping she could hide away in it or melt into the ground. She would not have come to court today at all, were it not for the necessity of honouring her family and their name. After the previous month’s events, Sofia knew she could have little influence over Athenia’s politics, and she was unenthusiastic at the thought of being involved in any way from this point forward. She did not feel like a nearly twenty-six-year-old woman. She felt small and ashamed. Everyone was moving on and she was nearly alone in her fear and her grief at losing the woman she had always believed herself to be.
Sofia had been unable to face her cousin Danae since the riots. How could she look into the eyes of a teenage whom she had failed so miserably? And then the shame spiraled, because others had had it worse. Marietta had been in a coma, for gods’ sake. Sofia had visited her once or twice, and felt the shame burn even deeper. So much pain. And now that it was over, still Sofia of Marikas was weak. She could not look into the eyes of her cousin, she could scarcely face the sea of people present in court. She departed from her brothers and niece soon after they arrived, preferring to keep to the outskirts of the mingling group, her back always pointed to a wall, where she could see anyone who might approach her. Not that it mattered. She was still defenseless, trapped in a massive room filled with people she did not wish to see.
At last the mingling stopped with the sound of Emilia’s voice. Sofia listened to the young princess speak, unsure of where the little speech was heading. Even in the midst of her wallowing self-pity, Sofia could tell that Emilia’s confidence was slowly growing. She was stepping into her sister’s shoes. And then, I decree Athenia be placed under martial law. Sofia was conflicted. The guards would protect her and all the other royals and nobles, yes, though she had diminishing faith in their riot-preventing abilities. But her family was hardly comprised of Xanthos supporters, and Sofia felt a new fear enter her heart. Raf had already committed a monstrous act against the crown. Would he be safe with soldiers under her command patrolling the streets?
The image of older sister Dione was there one moment, and gone the next, swept away in the shifting tides of the crowd as they continued to react to the princess’ decree. Like a living mosaic, the nobles in their colorful vestments and tinseled adornments drifted among themselves, smiles genuine and artificial alike. Rene recognized some, including Lord Pavlos, whom she would dedicate an opportunity to greet as only polite. Little did he know, the piece he commissioned last month was underway, and progressing, as she’d estimated it a month or so to complete. But that would have to wait.
As Rene stood amid the Athenian gentry, all seemed to be turning over the declaration of martial law and fretting about how it affected their lives. Given the large-scale upheaval lately, they were right to do so. Restoring order was tantamount of course, as anarchy was the demise of civilization. But this seemed a small patch on a gaping wound, and Rene could not help but feel there was more that could be done to settle the growing tides of angst in the kingdom.
What turned people into savages? Deprivation of the basic hierarchy of needs most certainly. The most basic programming of life? Survival. With a country at war, it’s monarchy shaken to its core, and plagued by famine, desperation had not only secured a foothold, but had gained purchase, inflaming the population, seeding discontent and reaping the violent rewards as escalation bloomed.
Several years prior, Rene had been blessed enough to obtain the friendship of Ophelia of Condos. A vivacious and socially adept soul, the Tangean noble had introduced Rene to the world of philanthropy and charity. Not entirely a popular pastime among nobles, it still had spurned the teen to take action in her own lands, and opened up a perspective she had not previously considered. Small actions here and there were born from such, but never prior had the kingdom been cast into such dire straights, now warranting a considerable effort to remedy its grievances. In those moments, Rene’s hands clenched and unclenched a few times, swallowing deeply, pools of striking beryl once more turned to the dais where the princess remained, her adviser closing in to whisper to her. In those moments, the din of the court faded into white noise in the adolescent’s ears, drowned out by her inner thoughts. On the precipice of a defining moment in the entirety of her life in court, her heart beat wildly beneath her breast, pounding in her ears, a shiver nearly overtaking her. Pushing back against the terror, she abandoned her quest to find Dione or Adre, turning back towards the dais at the head of the great hall. And as if in slow motion, she felt herself move back towards it.
Goddess @athena , grant your humble servant the wisdom, words and courage to speak, the prayers swept through the girl’s mind, drawing what serenity they offered, absorbed in her pleas after having cast out all others. When one prayed it was always best to create a temple in one’s mind, vacant to all except the gods. Great @zeus , father of the gods, undisputed power, grant blessings and gifts that your servant may support the entirety of your vast domain, exalting your glory. Mercifully accept the prayers and worship of your most humble servant.
The silent benedictions carried Rene all the way to the feet of the young monarch once more. Delicate fingers lifted the front of her chiton elegantly as she offered a curtsy. “Princess Emilia, a proposal, if I may?” She began, summoning her thoughts and organizing them. “House Nickolaos has always been a staunch supporter of the Xanthos dynasty, and it is on such account I pray thee entertain one of its daughters for a moment. Three years ago, I met Lady Ophelia of Condos at an event hosted in Athenia, and she spoke of great works of charity she undertook routinely for the people of Tangea. Her words have remained in my heart. In such trying times, with the restoration of civility per your decree, perhaps an additional initiative is warranted? A relief effort. It would not be inaccurate to hypothesize what despondency drives the people to violence. I can only imagine the awful despair of watching one’s children perish, and the resulting anger fueled by such loss,” Rene spoke, her deliverance flawless, voice unwavering. “With Your Majesty’s blessing, I would be honored to pursue solutions to aid her subjects. Perhaps others in attendance would be willing to join such a noble cause. Additionally, we not only have strategic allies in other kingdoms, but friends as well, and I would not hesitate to call upon them for assistance. With the gods’ divine sanction, we may work to alleviate the strife that has been visited upon the land. Bread is an inexpensive meal, for example, and small portions yet go a long way to feed the hungry.” Absorbed in her delivery, Rene remained oblivious to the proceedings around, engrossed in her beliefs that aid was necessary to help bring the kingdom back into realignment. “If Her Highness agrees, I shall undertake the matter immediately. I do believe such an act could go a long way in restoring support among the people by fostering hope. If the princess is not swayed by the reasoning of compassion, then at the very least, it should not be lost on all of us that our way of life and our fortunes are enabled by the efforts of the common man. If for no other reason, it serves the interest of everyone here to sustain those who likewise sustain us. Without the people, nobles have no one to rule. And what better way for us to serve the gods than to preserve the domain they have so charitably bestowed upon us to govern. The gods grant us gifts, but should we falter in our stewardship or appreciation, they can most certainly be revoked.”
As the words ceased, Rene’s gaze remained fixed on the monarch in the aftermath, waiting for a response, any response. She’d done it. There it was. Her offering, her moment. Regardless of how this ended in the court, it would hardly be the end of her determination. Surely there were options.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The image of older sister Dione was there one moment, and gone the next, swept away in the shifting tides of the crowd as they continued to react to the princess’ decree. Like a living mosaic, the nobles in their colorful vestments and tinseled adornments drifted among themselves, smiles genuine and artificial alike. Rene recognized some, including Lord Pavlos, whom she would dedicate an opportunity to greet as only polite. Little did he know, the piece he commissioned last month was underway, and progressing, as she’d estimated it a month or so to complete. But that would have to wait.
As Rene stood amid the Athenian gentry, all seemed to be turning over the declaration of martial law and fretting about how it affected their lives. Given the large-scale upheaval lately, they were right to do so. Restoring order was tantamount of course, as anarchy was the demise of civilization. But this seemed a small patch on a gaping wound, and Rene could not help but feel there was more that could be done to settle the growing tides of angst in the kingdom.
What turned people into savages? Deprivation of the basic hierarchy of needs most certainly. The most basic programming of life? Survival. With a country at war, it’s monarchy shaken to its core, and plagued by famine, desperation had not only secured a foothold, but had gained purchase, inflaming the population, seeding discontent and reaping the violent rewards as escalation bloomed.
Several years prior, Rene had been blessed enough to obtain the friendship of Ophelia of Condos. A vivacious and socially adept soul, the Tangean noble had introduced Rene to the world of philanthropy and charity. Not entirely a popular pastime among nobles, it still had spurned the teen to take action in her own lands, and opened up a perspective she had not previously considered. Small actions here and there were born from such, but never prior had the kingdom been cast into such dire straights, now warranting a considerable effort to remedy its grievances. In those moments, Rene’s hands clenched and unclenched a few times, swallowing deeply, pools of striking beryl once more turned to the dais where the princess remained, her adviser closing in to whisper to her. In those moments, the din of the court faded into white noise in the adolescent’s ears, drowned out by her inner thoughts. On the precipice of a defining moment in the entirety of her life in court, her heart beat wildly beneath her breast, pounding in her ears, a shiver nearly overtaking her. Pushing back against the terror, she abandoned her quest to find Dione or Adre, turning back towards the dais at the head of the great hall. And as if in slow motion, she felt herself move back towards it.
Goddess @athena , grant your humble servant the wisdom, words and courage to speak, the prayers swept through the girl’s mind, drawing what serenity they offered, absorbed in her pleas after having cast out all others. When one prayed it was always best to create a temple in one’s mind, vacant to all except the gods. Great @zeus , father of the gods, undisputed power, grant blessings and gifts that your servant may support the entirety of your vast domain, exalting your glory. Mercifully accept the prayers and worship of your most humble servant.
The silent benedictions carried Rene all the way to the feet of the young monarch once more. Delicate fingers lifted the front of her chiton elegantly as she offered a curtsy. “Princess Emilia, a proposal, if I may?” She began, summoning her thoughts and organizing them. “House Nickolaos has always been a staunch supporter of the Xanthos dynasty, and it is on such account I pray thee entertain one of its daughters for a moment. Three years ago, I met Lady Ophelia of Condos at an event hosted in Athenia, and she spoke of great works of charity she undertook routinely for the people of Tangea. Her words have remained in my heart. In such trying times, with the restoration of civility per your decree, perhaps an additional initiative is warranted? A relief effort. It would not be inaccurate to hypothesize what despondency drives the people to violence. I can only imagine the awful despair of watching one’s children perish, and the resulting anger fueled by such loss,” Rene spoke, her deliverance flawless, voice unwavering. “With Your Majesty’s blessing, I would be honored to pursue solutions to aid her subjects. Perhaps others in attendance would be willing to join such a noble cause. Additionally, we not only have strategic allies in other kingdoms, but friends as well, and I would not hesitate to call upon them for assistance. With the gods’ divine sanction, we may work to alleviate the strife that has been visited upon the land. Bread is an inexpensive meal, for example, and small portions yet go a long way to feed the hungry.” Absorbed in her delivery, Rene remained oblivious to the proceedings around, engrossed in her beliefs that aid was necessary to help bring the kingdom back into realignment. “If Her Highness agrees, I shall undertake the matter immediately. I do believe such an act could go a long way in restoring support among the people by fostering hope. If the princess is not swayed by the reasoning of compassion, then at the very least, it should not be lost on all of us that our way of life and our fortunes are enabled by the efforts of the common man. If for no other reason, it serves the interest of everyone here to sustain those who likewise sustain us. Without the people, nobles have no one to rule. And what better way for us to serve the gods than to preserve the domain they have so charitably bestowed upon us to govern. The gods grant us gifts, but should we falter in our stewardship or appreciation, they can most certainly be revoked.”
As the words ceased, Rene’s gaze remained fixed on the monarch in the aftermath, waiting for a response, any response. She’d done it. There it was. Her offering, her moment. Regardless of how this ended in the court, it would hardly be the end of her determination. Surely there were options.
The image of older sister Dione was there one moment, and gone the next, swept away in the shifting tides of the crowd as they continued to react to the princess’ decree. Like a living mosaic, the nobles in their colorful vestments and tinseled adornments drifted among themselves, smiles genuine and artificial alike. Rene recognized some, including Lord Pavlos, whom she would dedicate an opportunity to greet as only polite. Little did he know, the piece he commissioned last month was underway, and progressing, as she’d estimated it a month or so to complete. But that would have to wait.
As Rene stood amid the Athenian gentry, all seemed to be turning over the declaration of martial law and fretting about how it affected their lives. Given the large-scale upheaval lately, they were right to do so. Restoring order was tantamount of course, as anarchy was the demise of civilization. But this seemed a small patch on a gaping wound, and Rene could not help but feel there was more that could be done to settle the growing tides of angst in the kingdom.
What turned people into savages? Deprivation of the basic hierarchy of needs most certainly. The most basic programming of life? Survival. With a country at war, it’s monarchy shaken to its core, and plagued by famine, desperation had not only secured a foothold, but had gained purchase, inflaming the population, seeding discontent and reaping the violent rewards as escalation bloomed.
Several years prior, Rene had been blessed enough to obtain the friendship of Ophelia of Condos. A vivacious and socially adept soul, the Tangean noble had introduced Rene to the world of philanthropy and charity. Not entirely a popular pastime among nobles, it still had spurned the teen to take action in her own lands, and opened up a perspective she had not previously considered. Small actions here and there were born from such, but never prior had the kingdom been cast into such dire straights, now warranting a considerable effort to remedy its grievances. In those moments, Rene’s hands clenched and unclenched a few times, swallowing deeply, pools of striking beryl once more turned to the dais where the princess remained, her adviser closing in to whisper to her. In those moments, the din of the court faded into white noise in the adolescent’s ears, drowned out by her inner thoughts. On the precipice of a defining moment in the entirety of her life in court, her heart beat wildly beneath her breast, pounding in her ears, a shiver nearly overtaking her. Pushing back against the terror, she abandoned her quest to find Dione or Adre, turning back towards the dais at the head of the great hall. And as if in slow motion, she felt herself move back towards it.
Goddess @athena , grant your humble servant the wisdom, words and courage to speak, the prayers swept through the girl’s mind, drawing what serenity they offered, absorbed in her pleas after having cast out all others. When one prayed it was always best to create a temple in one’s mind, vacant to all except the gods. Great @zeus , father of the gods, undisputed power, grant blessings and gifts that your servant may support the entirety of your vast domain, exalting your glory. Mercifully accept the prayers and worship of your most humble servant.
The silent benedictions carried Rene all the way to the feet of the young monarch once more. Delicate fingers lifted the front of her chiton elegantly as she offered a curtsy. “Princess Emilia, a proposal, if I may?” She began, summoning her thoughts and organizing them. “House Nickolaos has always been a staunch supporter of the Xanthos dynasty, and it is on such account I pray thee entertain one of its daughters for a moment. Three years ago, I met Lady Ophelia of Condos at an event hosted in Athenia, and she spoke of great works of charity she undertook routinely for the people of Tangea. Her words have remained in my heart. In such trying times, with the restoration of civility per your decree, perhaps an additional initiative is warranted? A relief effort. It would not be inaccurate to hypothesize what despondency drives the people to violence. I can only imagine the awful despair of watching one’s children perish, and the resulting anger fueled by such loss,” Rene spoke, her deliverance flawless, voice unwavering. “With Your Majesty’s blessing, I would be honored to pursue solutions to aid her subjects. Perhaps others in attendance would be willing to join such a noble cause. Additionally, we not only have strategic allies in other kingdoms, but friends as well, and I would not hesitate to call upon them for assistance. With the gods’ divine sanction, we may work to alleviate the strife that has been visited upon the land. Bread is an inexpensive meal, for example, and small portions yet go a long way to feed the hungry.” Absorbed in her delivery, Rene remained oblivious to the proceedings around, engrossed in her beliefs that aid was necessary to help bring the kingdom back into realignment. “If Her Highness agrees, I shall undertake the matter immediately. I do believe such an act could go a long way in restoring support among the people by fostering hope. If the princess is not swayed by the reasoning of compassion, then at the very least, it should not be lost on all of us that our way of life and our fortunes are enabled by the efforts of the common man. If for no other reason, it serves the interest of everyone here to sustain those who likewise sustain us. Without the people, nobles have no one to rule. And what better way for us to serve the gods than to preserve the domain they have so charitably bestowed upon us to govern. The gods grant us gifts, but should we falter in our stewardship or appreciation, they can most certainly be revoked.”
As the words ceased, Rene’s gaze remained fixed on the monarch in the aftermath, waiting for a response, any response. She’d done it. There it was. Her offering, her moment. Regardless of how this ended in the court, it would hardly be the end of her determination. Surely there were options.
There were too many things going on all at once. Marietta was feeling very, very, very overwhelmed. Now Evi was at her side, and Elysia had disappeared into the crowd. Was it something Marietta said? Was it her cringing? Was it about the flowers? Should she had sent flowers to Elysia instead? But wait- where would she even send it to begin with?
What was going on?
Before Marietta could say a word to Evi thanking her for the save- the Princess was speaking. As such, I decree, Athenia be put under martial law for now, until peace and order are restored. A flood of emotion hit. First, it was relief. That meant that there would be more soldiers around to protect them. Was Uncle Lacides coming back from the border? Would he be bringing more Athenian men to the capital? Would more people from the Antonis provinces come as well? Was it just the capital or outside of it too? Would Aetaea be rebuilt faster? Would the military take control of the supply chains and make sure those who needed food the most could get it?
And then a second speech happened. And the relief that Marietta felt started bubbling into nerves once again. So many ‘friends’ in Athenia turned out to be enemies. The Stravos being the prime example. But even the rumors surrounding Rafail in Aetaea proved even the longest, closest friendships could… go up in flames. (If rumors were to be believed- that is.) Having dated Adrestus of Nikolaos throughout the month of Panamos, Marietta had no reason to believe the Nikolaos family were bad people. But then again, she had been best friends with Elias since the age of six. Clearly, her judgment was faulty and could not be trusted.
But asking outside aid in Athenia? To Taengea? To Colchis? That… sounded like a horrible plan. Marietta was not privy to all the details, but being around so many soldiers in her household she’d have to be deaf and blind not to know that the two kingdoms had gone to war with Egypt. Athenia, who signed a treaty with those very kingdoms, hadn’t joined them. Unless ships packed with soldiers were being sent over to Egypt without Marietta’s knowledge- which could very well be likely she wasn’t privy to the conversations of men, then Athenia broke their treaty. Why would they go asking for favors from royal households when their kingdom betrayed theirs? When the act of not joining their war at best-ruined trade between the two kingdoms and at worst opened Athenia up for war with them? Especially when exposing just how weak they currently are to kingdoms that neighbored Athenia from either side.
It wasn’t to say that Rene was in the wrong. Her uncle was the general, her cousins high ranking in the military, and there were other military captains and leaders coming in and out of the Antonis grounds by the day. Marietta was exposed to more simply by living in the household with the greatest military might of Athenia. And yet… mixed with the previous doubt of not knowing who to trust any longer, Marietta… could only feel dread when it came from the girl’s words.
Marietta found herself moving closer to Evi. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We should go find Mother. I don’t… I don’t feel right about this.” And with Elias having also previously gotten up to whisper into the Princess’s ear, the unease was starting to swell more and more in the already very anxious girl. This was a mistake. She may have been summoned, but she still shouldn’t have come to court. Marietta wasn’t ready for this. Not at all.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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There were too many things going on all at once. Marietta was feeling very, very, very overwhelmed. Now Evi was at her side, and Elysia had disappeared into the crowd. Was it something Marietta said? Was it her cringing? Was it about the flowers? Should she had sent flowers to Elysia instead? But wait- where would she even send it to begin with?
What was going on?
Before Marietta could say a word to Evi thanking her for the save- the Princess was speaking. As such, I decree, Athenia be put under martial law for now, until peace and order are restored. A flood of emotion hit. First, it was relief. That meant that there would be more soldiers around to protect them. Was Uncle Lacides coming back from the border? Would he be bringing more Athenian men to the capital? Would more people from the Antonis provinces come as well? Was it just the capital or outside of it too? Would Aetaea be rebuilt faster? Would the military take control of the supply chains and make sure those who needed food the most could get it?
And then a second speech happened. And the relief that Marietta felt started bubbling into nerves once again. So many ‘friends’ in Athenia turned out to be enemies. The Stravos being the prime example. But even the rumors surrounding Rafail in Aetaea proved even the longest, closest friendships could… go up in flames. (If rumors were to be believed- that is.) Having dated Adrestus of Nikolaos throughout the month of Panamos, Marietta had no reason to believe the Nikolaos family were bad people. But then again, she had been best friends with Elias since the age of six. Clearly, her judgment was faulty and could not be trusted.
But asking outside aid in Athenia? To Taengea? To Colchis? That… sounded like a horrible plan. Marietta was not privy to all the details, but being around so many soldiers in her household she’d have to be deaf and blind not to know that the two kingdoms had gone to war with Egypt. Athenia, who signed a treaty with those very kingdoms, hadn’t joined them. Unless ships packed with soldiers were being sent over to Egypt without Marietta’s knowledge- which could very well be likely she wasn’t privy to the conversations of men, then Athenia broke their treaty. Why would they go asking for favors from royal households when their kingdom betrayed theirs? When the act of not joining their war at best-ruined trade between the two kingdoms and at worst opened Athenia up for war with them? Especially when exposing just how weak they currently are to kingdoms that neighbored Athenia from either side.
It wasn’t to say that Rene was in the wrong. Her uncle was the general, her cousins high ranking in the military, and there were other military captains and leaders coming in and out of the Antonis grounds by the day. Marietta was exposed to more simply by living in the household with the greatest military might of Athenia. And yet… mixed with the previous doubt of not knowing who to trust any longer, Marietta… could only feel dread when it came from the girl’s words.
Marietta found herself moving closer to Evi. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We should go find Mother. I don’t… I don’t feel right about this.” And with Elias having also previously gotten up to whisper into the Princess’s ear, the unease was starting to swell more and more in the already very anxious girl. This was a mistake. She may have been summoned, but she still shouldn’t have come to court. Marietta wasn’t ready for this. Not at all.
There were too many things going on all at once. Marietta was feeling very, very, very overwhelmed. Now Evi was at her side, and Elysia had disappeared into the crowd. Was it something Marietta said? Was it her cringing? Was it about the flowers? Should she had sent flowers to Elysia instead? But wait- where would she even send it to begin with?
What was going on?
Before Marietta could say a word to Evi thanking her for the save- the Princess was speaking. As such, I decree, Athenia be put under martial law for now, until peace and order are restored. A flood of emotion hit. First, it was relief. That meant that there would be more soldiers around to protect them. Was Uncle Lacides coming back from the border? Would he be bringing more Athenian men to the capital? Would more people from the Antonis provinces come as well? Was it just the capital or outside of it too? Would Aetaea be rebuilt faster? Would the military take control of the supply chains and make sure those who needed food the most could get it?
And then a second speech happened. And the relief that Marietta felt started bubbling into nerves once again. So many ‘friends’ in Athenia turned out to be enemies. The Stravos being the prime example. But even the rumors surrounding Rafail in Aetaea proved even the longest, closest friendships could… go up in flames. (If rumors were to be believed- that is.) Having dated Adrestus of Nikolaos throughout the month of Panamos, Marietta had no reason to believe the Nikolaos family were bad people. But then again, she had been best friends with Elias since the age of six. Clearly, her judgment was faulty and could not be trusted.
But asking outside aid in Athenia? To Taengea? To Colchis? That… sounded like a horrible plan. Marietta was not privy to all the details, but being around so many soldiers in her household she’d have to be deaf and blind not to know that the two kingdoms had gone to war with Egypt. Athenia, who signed a treaty with those very kingdoms, hadn’t joined them. Unless ships packed with soldiers were being sent over to Egypt without Marietta’s knowledge- which could very well be likely she wasn’t privy to the conversations of men, then Athenia broke their treaty. Why would they go asking for favors from royal households when their kingdom betrayed theirs? When the act of not joining their war at best-ruined trade between the two kingdoms and at worst opened Athenia up for war with them? Especially when exposing just how weak they currently are to kingdoms that neighbored Athenia from either side.
It wasn’t to say that Rene was in the wrong. Her uncle was the general, her cousins high ranking in the military, and there were other military captains and leaders coming in and out of the Antonis grounds by the day. Marietta was exposed to more simply by living in the household with the greatest military might of Athenia. And yet… mixed with the previous doubt of not knowing who to trust any longer, Marietta… could only feel dread when it came from the girl’s words.
Marietta found herself moving closer to Evi. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We should go find Mother. I don’t… I don’t feel right about this.” And with Elias having also previously gotten up to whisper into the Princess’s ear, the unease was starting to swell more and more in the already very anxious girl. This was a mistake. She may have been summoned, but she still shouldn’t have come to court. Marietta wasn’t ready for this. Not at all.
