The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
Sara of Vasiliadon was not a girl who hid from her problems. No, she typically faced them head on with a smile -- gentle but determined to force things back into a positive light. But she was tired, the weight of the world seeming so much heavier with every passing day so today -- she hid. She wondered if this was what it was like to be an adult, seeing the problems of the world that had once been invisible thanks to her sheltered childhood.
Jaidee, the bay mare that had belonged to Sara since she was twelve, snorted softly as she continued to eat the fresh hay Sara had wrestled from the rafters of the stables. Sara had busied herself with caring for the mare, before curling up in one of the corners of the stall in a pile of fresh hay. Portokali had joined her as well, finding his way to her rooms shortly after her arrival back at the palati and sticking close to her side.
Her fingers brushed idly through his silky orange fur, the male cat purring from his sleepy perch on her stomach. It was nice in the stable, quiet and calm -- away from prying eyes or whispering tongues. Perhaps quieter than normal because of all that happened in the last week or so. Emilios had called her back to the palati for safe-keeping once the Order had begun to round up the goods in order to prepare for an influx of refugees. She was sure Xanthippe was hoping she’d never come back, but she did find that she missed Lady Melina. The woman was kind to her, even if her other maid was cruel. Not that Sara had any evidence yet -- just the strange things that seemed to happen to her shortly after seeing Xan. It was not too difficult to put two and two together. And then of course there was Alastor.
Portokali made a discomforted chuff as Sara rolled onto her side and Alastor's letter slid off of her chest and onto the floor. It was too easy to think of him when she was here, and some part of her was worried that she might actually run into him again. She didn’t know how she felt about him as of late -- not since he’d broken off their short-lived relationship on these very grounds. At first she’d been devastated, feeling like she had been cut loose by yet another person but his behavior had been very strange...even on that night.
He was not the soft, sweet boy that she remembered. She closed her eyes as she thought of him that day in the market, when he’d been trying to take a merchant’s work. He seemed so different, like a character in a play or something. He was unrecognizable to her, and despite their attempts at repairing their fractured friendship -- she didn’t know where they stood. One step forward seemed to result in two steps back. Perhaps that was why she had not opened the letter he'd pressed into her hands, too afraid of what might be written on that piece of parchment. It could be anything, and the fear of further bad news was enough to keep it firmly sealed. Her fingers traced idly over the wax keeping it closed, before rolling away from it completely.
She groaned, pushing a hand over her face even as Portokali slipped under the stable door out into the hall. She just wanted to turn her face into the hay and scream. It was all so bloody unfair. Her entire life had been ripped out of her hands, and not one single shred of happiness could be left it seemed. She’d spent so much time in prayer, trying to figure out which of the gods had cursed her. Was it fun to watch her spiral into despair for them?
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Sara of Vasiliadon was not a girl who hid from her problems. No, she typically faced them head on with a smile -- gentle but determined to force things back into a positive light. But she was tired, the weight of the world seeming so much heavier with every passing day so today -- she hid. She wondered if this was what it was like to be an adult, seeing the problems of the world that had once been invisible thanks to her sheltered childhood.
Jaidee, the bay mare that had belonged to Sara since she was twelve, snorted softly as she continued to eat the fresh hay Sara had wrestled from the rafters of the stables. Sara had busied herself with caring for the mare, before curling up in one of the corners of the stall in a pile of fresh hay. Portokali had joined her as well, finding his way to her rooms shortly after her arrival back at the palati and sticking close to her side.
Her fingers brushed idly through his silky orange fur, the male cat purring from his sleepy perch on her stomach. It was nice in the stable, quiet and calm -- away from prying eyes or whispering tongues. Perhaps quieter than normal because of all that happened in the last week or so. Emilios had called her back to the palati for safe-keeping once the Order had begun to round up the goods in order to prepare for an influx of refugees. She was sure Xanthippe was hoping she’d never come back, but she did find that she missed Lady Melina. The woman was kind to her, even if her other maid was cruel. Not that Sara had any evidence yet -- just the strange things that seemed to happen to her shortly after seeing Xan. It was not too difficult to put two and two together. And then of course there was Alastor.
Portokali made a discomforted chuff as Sara rolled onto her side and Alastor's letter slid off of her chest and onto the floor. It was too easy to think of him when she was here, and some part of her was worried that she might actually run into him again. She didn’t know how she felt about him as of late -- not since he’d broken off their short-lived relationship on these very grounds. At first she’d been devastated, feeling like she had been cut loose by yet another person but his behavior had been very strange...even on that night.
He was not the soft, sweet boy that she remembered. She closed her eyes as she thought of him that day in the market, when he’d been trying to take a merchant’s work. He seemed so different, like a character in a play or something. He was unrecognizable to her, and despite their attempts at repairing their fractured friendship -- she didn’t know where they stood. One step forward seemed to result in two steps back. Perhaps that was why she had not opened the letter he'd pressed into her hands, too afraid of what might be written on that piece of parchment. It could be anything, and the fear of further bad news was enough to keep it firmly sealed. Her fingers traced idly over the wax keeping it closed, before rolling away from it completely.
She groaned, pushing a hand over her face even as Portokali slipped under the stable door out into the hall. She just wanted to turn her face into the hay and scream. It was all so bloody unfair. Her entire life had been ripped out of her hands, and not one single shred of happiness could be left it seemed. She’d spent so much time in prayer, trying to figure out which of the gods had cursed her. Was it fun to watch her spiral into despair for them?
Sara of Vasiliadon was not a girl who hid from her problems. No, she typically faced them head on with a smile -- gentle but determined to force things back into a positive light. But she was tired, the weight of the world seeming so much heavier with every passing day so today -- she hid. She wondered if this was what it was like to be an adult, seeing the problems of the world that had once been invisible thanks to her sheltered childhood.
Jaidee, the bay mare that had belonged to Sara since she was twelve, snorted softly as she continued to eat the fresh hay Sara had wrestled from the rafters of the stables. Sara had busied herself with caring for the mare, before curling up in one of the corners of the stall in a pile of fresh hay. Portokali had joined her as well, finding his way to her rooms shortly after her arrival back at the palati and sticking close to her side.
Her fingers brushed idly through his silky orange fur, the male cat purring from his sleepy perch on her stomach. It was nice in the stable, quiet and calm -- away from prying eyes or whispering tongues. Perhaps quieter than normal because of all that happened in the last week or so. Emilios had called her back to the palati for safe-keeping once the Order had begun to round up the goods in order to prepare for an influx of refugees. She was sure Xanthippe was hoping she’d never come back, but she did find that she missed Lady Melina. The woman was kind to her, even if her other maid was cruel. Not that Sara had any evidence yet -- just the strange things that seemed to happen to her shortly after seeing Xan. It was not too difficult to put two and two together. And then of course there was Alastor.
Portokali made a discomforted chuff as Sara rolled onto her side and Alastor's letter slid off of her chest and onto the floor. It was too easy to think of him when she was here, and some part of her was worried that she might actually run into him again. She didn’t know how she felt about him as of late -- not since he’d broken off their short-lived relationship on these very grounds. At first she’d been devastated, feeling like she had been cut loose by yet another person but his behavior had been very strange...even on that night.
He was not the soft, sweet boy that she remembered. She closed her eyes as she thought of him that day in the market, when he’d been trying to take a merchant’s work. He seemed so different, like a character in a play or something. He was unrecognizable to her, and despite their attempts at repairing their fractured friendship -- she didn’t know where they stood. One step forward seemed to result in two steps back. Perhaps that was why she had not opened the letter he'd pressed into her hands, too afraid of what might be written on that piece of parchment. It could be anything, and the fear of further bad news was enough to keep it firmly sealed. Her fingers traced idly over the wax keeping it closed, before rolling away from it completely.
She groaned, pushing a hand over her face even as Portokali slipped under the stable door out into the hall. She just wanted to turn her face into the hay and scream. It was all so bloody unfair. Her entire life had been ripped out of her hands, and not one single shred of happiness could be left it seemed. She’d spent so much time in prayer, trying to figure out which of the gods had cursed her. Was it fun to watch her spiral into despair for them?
Like Sara, Theodora was also wondering what it was she had done to anger the gods, though this was no longer a new feeling. The past several months had seemed nightmare after nightmare and now, with the news of her husband’s disappearance and the discovery of a pregnancy that may or may not have been caused by said husband… the Queen was at a loss for what to do.
She hadn’t forgotten what Eliana said when she revealed the news to her, nor the tone she had taken when she said it. She knew her retainer was right, that she needed to end this affair and put it to rest for good. That she ought to be on her knees in Hera’s temple begging forgiveness and attempting to set her life back on a path more devoid of chaos. But saying and knowing things was a lot different than doing them. And she was not fully convinced she could pry herself away from Emilios so easily.
After all, she had tried, hadn’t she? When she accepted her duty and wed Achilleas as she was expected, she had sworn she would start over, that she would put all thoughts of Emilios to the side and be grateful for the match she had been given. As she had reminded herself so many times before, Achilleas was a strong man, a good man, and he did not deserve any of this. It was hardly his fault that she had fallen for his brother long before she knew of any feelings he had for her.
And yet… if the gods were so intent that she share her life with Achilleas, why was it that they kept shoving Emilios back in her path? If they truly were not meant to be, why did it feel so right when they were together? Maybe the gods were trying to tell her something, and she was simply interpreting it as something else.
Or maybe she was just making excuses.
Whatever it was, she was lost in those thoughts as she stood in Calista’s stall and brushed out her mane until it shone. The barn was the only place she could seem to get some semblance of peace; her retinue of retainers were a lot less likely to follow her in here where it reeked of sweat and horse. Her guards, of course, were never too far away, but at the very least, they stayed outside the door. It was the most she could really hope for at this point.
Today, however, it seemed she was not totally alone, the quiet sounds of another human moving around the barn alerting her to someone else’s presence. Assuming it just to be one of the stablehands, she peeked out to see, only to spot a familiar little orange cat run down the aisle between the stalls.
Stepping out of her mare’s stall and closing it behind her, she gave the dappled grey a few pats on the nose before crouching down to greet Portokali. “Now, what are you doing in here, hm?” she asked with a scratch behind his ears, smiling as the cat purred and pushed up against her hand. She couldn’t imagine the cat being here without his person, and so she walked over to Jaidee’s stall to see if that person might be inside.
She was, and Theodora leaned on the stall door as she offered Sara a smile. “You know, my mother used to yell at me all the time for laying around in the hay in the stables back home,” she commented with a chuckle. “My maid too. She’d constantly complain of how difficult it was to wash the smell from my clothes. I didn’t care, though. I still don’t. Althaia’s resigned to it by now.”
Gesturing around the stables, her smile widened a little. “A lot quieter in here than the Palati, huh? You trying to get away too?”
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Like Sara, Theodora was also wondering what it was she had done to anger the gods, though this was no longer a new feeling. The past several months had seemed nightmare after nightmare and now, with the news of her husband’s disappearance and the discovery of a pregnancy that may or may not have been caused by said husband… the Queen was at a loss for what to do.
She hadn’t forgotten what Eliana said when she revealed the news to her, nor the tone she had taken when she said it. She knew her retainer was right, that she needed to end this affair and put it to rest for good. That she ought to be on her knees in Hera’s temple begging forgiveness and attempting to set her life back on a path more devoid of chaos. But saying and knowing things was a lot different than doing them. And she was not fully convinced she could pry herself away from Emilios so easily.
After all, she had tried, hadn’t she? When she accepted her duty and wed Achilleas as she was expected, she had sworn she would start over, that she would put all thoughts of Emilios to the side and be grateful for the match she had been given. As she had reminded herself so many times before, Achilleas was a strong man, a good man, and he did not deserve any of this. It was hardly his fault that she had fallen for his brother long before she knew of any feelings he had for her.
And yet… if the gods were so intent that she share her life with Achilleas, why was it that they kept shoving Emilios back in her path? If they truly were not meant to be, why did it feel so right when they were together? Maybe the gods were trying to tell her something, and she was simply interpreting it as something else.
Or maybe she was just making excuses.
Whatever it was, she was lost in those thoughts as she stood in Calista’s stall and brushed out her mane until it shone. The barn was the only place she could seem to get some semblance of peace; her retinue of retainers were a lot less likely to follow her in here where it reeked of sweat and horse. Her guards, of course, were never too far away, but at the very least, they stayed outside the door. It was the most she could really hope for at this point.
Today, however, it seemed she was not totally alone, the quiet sounds of another human moving around the barn alerting her to someone else’s presence. Assuming it just to be one of the stablehands, she peeked out to see, only to spot a familiar little orange cat run down the aisle between the stalls.
Stepping out of her mare’s stall and closing it behind her, she gave the dappled grey a few pats on the nose before crouching down to greet Portokali. “Now, what are you doing in here, hm?” she asked with a scratch behind his ears, smiling as the cat purred and pushed up against her hand. She couldn’t imagine the cat being here without his person, and so she walked over to Jaidee’s stall to see if that person might be inside.
She was, and Theodora leaned on the stall door as she offered Sara a smile. “You know, my mother used to yell at me all the time for laying around in the hay in the stables back home,” she commented with a chuckle. “My maid too. She’d constantly complain of how difficult it was to wash the smell from my clothes. I didn’t care, though. I still don’t. Althaia’s resigned to it by now.”
Gesturing around the stables, her smile widened a little. “A lot quieter in here than the Palati, huh? You trying to get away too?”
Like Sara, Theodora was also wondering what it was she had done to anger the gods, though this was no longer a new feeling. The past several months had seemed nightmare after nightmare and now, with the news of her husband’s disappearance and the discovery of a pregnancy that may or may not have been caused by said husband… the Queen was at a loss for what to do.
She hadn’t forgotten what Eliana said when she revealed the news to her, nor the tone she had taken when she said it. She knew her retainer was right, that she needed to end this affair and put it to rest for good. That she ought to be on her knees in Hera’s temple begging forgiveness and attempting to set her life back on a path more devoid of chaos. But saying and knowing things was a lot different than doing them. And she was not fully convinced she could pry herself away from Emilios so easily.
After all, she had tried, hadn’t she? When she accepted her duty and wed Achilleas as she was expected, she had sworn she would start over, that she would put all thoughts of Emilios to the side and be grateful for the match she had been given. As she had reminded herself so many times before, Achilleas was a strong man, a good man, and he did not deserve any of this. It was hardly his fault that she had fallen for his brother long before she knew of any feelings he had for her.
And yet… if the gods were so intent that she share her life with Achilleas, why was it that they kept shoving Emilios back in her path? If they truly were not meant to be, why did it feel so right when they were together? Maybe the gods were trying to tell her something, and she was simply interpreting it as something else.
Or maybe she was just making excuses.
Whatever it was, she was lost in those thoughts as she stood in Calista’s stall and brushed out her mane until it shone. The barn was the only place she could seem to get some semblance of peace; her retinue of retainers were a lot less likely to follow her in here where it reeked of sweat and horse. Her guards, of course, were never too far away, but at the very least, they stayed outside the door. It was the most she could really hope for at this point.
Today, however, it seemed she was not totally alone, the quiet sounds of another human moving around the barn alerting her to someone else’s presence. Assuming it just to be one of the stablehands, she peeked out to see, only to spot a familiar little orange cat run down the aisle between the stalls.
Stepping out of her mare’s stall and closing it behind her, she gave the dappled grey a few pats on the nose before crouching down to greet Portokali. “Now, what are you doing in here, hm?” she asked with a scratch behind his ears, smiling as the cat purred and pushed up against her hand. She couldn’t imagine the cat being here without his person, and so she walked over to Jaidee’s stall to see if that person might be inside.
She was, and Theodora leaned on the stall door as she offered Sara a smile. “You know, my mother used to yell at me all the time for laying around in the hay in the stables back home,” she commented with a chuckle. “My maid too. She’d constantly complain of how difficult it was to wash the smell from my clothes. I didn’t care, though. I still don’t. Althaia’s resigned to it by now.”
Gesturing around the stables, her smile widened a little. “A lot quieter in here than the Palati, huh? You trying to get away too?”
She was so caught up in the whirlwind of her thoughts that Theodora’s approach went virtually unnoticed. She could hear Portokali trilling but didn’t think much of it as it was something he often did when he wanted attention and thought he was not getting enough of it. She could feel the tears rising like a tide that threatened to drag her under, her head and her heart aching with emotions that she simply didn’t understand.
You know, my mother..
Sara jerked at the sound of Theo’s voice, looking up to see the Queen of Taengea leaning on Jaidee’s stall door. She looked away just as quickly, hiding her face to dab at her eyes and hoping that she was fast enough. She winced as the cut on her face pulled, still freshly healing. She started to sit up, one hand searching the floor for the stupid letter while the other pulled straw and hay from her hair. She wasn’t sure what her face looked like, but she hoped that she could hide behind a wry smile that she forced to her lips. What she couldn’t realize was the paleness of her cheeks, along with the scar from that scary man, the darker circles beneath her eyes, the tired defeat lingering in the blue depths. Life had taken swings at her, and had managed to chase away some of her youthful hopefulness. She was no longer the girl she’d been even just four months ago.
The bay mare snorted as she lifted her head, nudging her way into Theodora’s space on the hunt for treats no doubt. Jaidee was admittedly just as spoiled as Portokali, who was peeking at Sara from beneath the stall door. Little traitor. Her blue gaze swung back up to the Queen, admittedly not having heard half of what the other woman had said. Her fingers closed around the paper and she tugged it behind herself, still just sitting in the hay. ”Somehow, your majesty, that doesn’t surprise me at all.” She said, her voice surprisingly thick with emotion. She cleared it, covering her mouth with one hand while the other still kept hold of Alastor’s letter.
Some part of her knew that manners dictated that she get to her feet and give the Queen her respect, but she did not think she could. Besides that, she would have to do something with the letter in hand -- and she didn’t want to draw attention to it. ”Is it so obvious?” She asked. ”I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone else out here. Although...perhaps I should have, your majesty.” Sara drew her legs towards herself, the dark green chiton that she often favored wrinkling.
”It’s good to see you again.” She said, sticking to the truth. It was a lot easier than phasing the conversation into niceties. ”You’ve been well?” She had not heard from Theodora since leaving the palace, despite both of their intentions to keep in contact. No doubt she was busy being the Queen while Sara was working, trying to stay on Melina of Leventi’s good side while avoiding Xanthippe the best that she could. It was rather difficult since Xan was constantly glued to Melina’s side. Admittedly, Sara was sort of relieved to have been called back to the palati. She wanted to talk to Emilios again, see if perhaps he could find her somewhere else to go. It was clear to Sara that she was not wanted -- again.
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
She was so caught up in the whirlwind of her thoughts that Theodora’s approach went virtually unnoticed. She could hear Portokali trilling but didn’t think much of it as it was something he often did when he wanted attention and thought he was not getting enough of it. She could feel the tears rising like a tide that threatened to drag her under, her head and her heart aching with emotions that she simply didn’t understand.
You know, my mother..
Sara jerked at the sound of Theo’s voice, looking up to see the Queen of Taengea leaning on Jaidee’s stall door. She looked away just as quickly, hiding her face to dab at her eyes and hoping that she was fast enough. She winced as the cut on her face pulled, still freshly healing. She started to sit up, one hand searching the floor for the stupid letter while the other pulled straw and hay from her hair. She wasn’t sure what her face looked like, but she hoped that she could hide behind a wry smile that she forced to her lips. What she couldn’t realize was the paleness of her cheeks, along with the scar from that scary man, the darker circles beneath her eyes, the tired defeat lingering in the blue depths. Life had taken swings at her, and had managed to chase away some of her youthful hopefulness. She was no longer the girl she’d been even just four months ago.
The bay mare snorted as she lifted her head, nudging her way into Theodora’s space on the hunt for treats no doubt. Jaidee was admittedly just as spoiled as Portokali, who was peeking at Sara from beneath the stall door. Little traitor. Her blue gaze swung back up to the Queen, admittedly not having heard half of what the other woman had said. Her fingers closed around the paper and she tugged it behind herself, still just sitting in the hay. ”Somehow, your majesty, that doesn’t surprise me at all.” She said, her voice surprisingly thick with emotion. She cleared it, covering her mouth with one hand while the other still kept hold of Alastor’s letter.
Some part of her knew that manners dictated that she get to her feet and give the Queen her respect, but she did not think she could. Besides that, she would have to do something with the letter in hand -- and she didn’t want to draw attention to it. ”Is it so obvious?” She asked. ”I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone else out here. Although...perhaps I should have, your majesty.” Sara drew her legs towards herself, the dark green chiton that she often favored wrinkling.
”It’s good to see you again.” She said, sticking to the truth. It was a lot easier than phasing the conversation into niceties. ”You’ve been well?” She had not heard from Theodora since leaving the palace, despite both of their intentions to keep in contact. No doubt she was busy being the Queen while Sara was working, trying to stay on Melina of Leventi’s good side while avoiding Xanthippe the best that she could. It was rather difficult since Xan was constantly glued to Melina’s side. Admittedly, Sara was sort of relieved to have been called back to the palati. She wanted to talk to Emilios again, see if perhaps he could find her somewhere else to go. It was clear to Sara that she was not wanted -- again.
She was so caught up in the whirlwind of her thoughts that Theodora’s approach went virtually unnoticed. She could hear Portokali trilling but didn’t think much of it as it was something he often did when he wanted attention and thought he was not getting enough of it. She could feel the tears rising like a tide that threatened to drag her under, her head and her heart aching with emotions that she simply didn’t understand.
You know, my mother..
Sara jerked at the sound of Theo’s voice, looking up to see the Queen of Taengea leaning on Jaidee’s stall door. She looked away just as quickly, hiding her face to dab at her eyes and hoping that she was fast enough. She winced as the cut on her face pulled, still freshly healing. She started to sit up, one hand searching the floor for the stupid letter while the other pulled straw and hay from her hair. She wasn’t sure what her face looked like, but she hoped that she could hide behind a wry smile that she forced to her lips. What she couldn’t realize was the paleness of her cheeks, along with the scar from that scary man, the darker circles beneath her eyes, the tired defeat lingering in the blue depths. Life had taken swings at her, and had managed to chase away some of her youthful hopefulness. She was no longer the girl she’d been even just four months ago.
The bay mare snorted as she lifted her head, nudging her way into Theodora’s space on the hunt for treats no doubt. Jaidee was admittedly just as spoiled as Portokali, who was peeking at Sara from beneath the stall door. Little traitor. Her blue gaze swung back up to the Queen, admittedly not having heard half of what the other woman had said. Her fingers closed around the paper and she tugged it behind herself, still just sitting in the hay. ”Somehow, your majesty, that doesn’t surprise me at all.” She said, her voice surprisingly thick with emotion. She cleared it, covering her mouth with one hand while the other still kept hold of Alastor’s letter.
Some part of her knew that manners dictated that she get to her feet and give the Queen her respect, but she did not think she could. Besides that, she would have to do something with the letter in hand -- and she didn’t want to draw attention to it. ”Is it so obvious?” She asked. ”I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone else out here. Although...perhaps I should have, your majesty.” Sara drew her legs towards herself, the dark green chiton that she often favored wrinkling.
”It’s good to see you again.” She said, sticking to the truth. It was a lot easier than phasing the conversation into niceties. ”You’ve been well?” She had not heard from Theodora since leaving the palace, despite both of their intentions to keep in contact. No doubt she was busy being the Queen while Sara was working, trying to stay on Melina of Leventi’s good side while avoiding Xanthippe the best that she could. It was rather difficult since Xan was constantly glued to Melina’s side. Admittedly, Sara was sort of relieved to have been called back to the palati. She wanted to talk to Emilios again, see if perhaps he could find her somewhere else to go. It was clear to Sara that she was not wanted -- again.
“You can call me Theodora, you know,” she commented when Sara responded to her teasing comment with ‘your majesty,’ chuckling and patting at Jaidee’s nose when it shoved up against her shoulder. Pulling a bit of apple that had been meant for Calista from a fold of her chiton, she offered it to the mare, who accepted it with a cheerful snuffle. “When others aren’t around, anyway,” Theo amended. “I know the title is expected, but you don’t have to keep it when we’re alone.”
The Queen offered an encouraging smile, but that smile dropped right off her face as soon as Sara’s caught the light. She looked so haggard for a girl of her age, so sad, dark circles drawn under her eyes as if with a paintbrush. But more alarming than that was the angry mark going down the side of her face, Theodora’s eyes widening as she opened the stall door and entered without another thought.
Most of the girl’s polite words were forgotten as Theo knelt down in the hay next to her, one hand gently cupping her jaw as she examined Sara’s cheek. “I’ve been fine,” she muttered in absent-minded response to her question, carefully turning the girl’s face so she might see it better. “Gods, Sara, what happened?” For a moment, she thought perhaps her touch would be unwelcome, that maybe the younger woman wouldn’t want her fussing, but the Queen couldn’t help herself. After all, she’d grown up with three younger sisters, and now, with a baby bouncing around in her belly, she couldn’t help the motherly concern that had her fingertips gently ghosting over her sister-in-law’s tender cheek.
“Are you all right? When did you get this?” Desperately, she tried to remember the last time she saw Sara, thinking surely she would have noticed such an angry wound marring her face. It couldn’t have been that long ago, surely? “Have you had it looked at? I can send for my healer if you haven’t…”
Sitting back on her heels, she went quiet as she noted her tear-swollen eyes, wrinkled clothing, red-streaked cheeks. Was it whoever gave her the wound that was causing her to look so… broken? Or was it something else?
Noting the parchment clutched in Sara’s fingers, her frown deepened a little, but she didn’t immediately comment, her gaze instead flicking back to the girl’s face. “What happened, Sara?” she asked, voice soft as she dropped her worrying hands and folded them in her lap. “What’s wrong?”
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
“You can call me Theodora, you know,” she commented when Sara responded to her teasing comment with ‘your majesty,’ chuckling and patting at Jaidee’s nose when it shoved up against her shoulder. Pulling a bit of apple that had been meant for Calista from a fold of her chiton, she offered it to the mare, who accepted it with a cheerful snuffle. “When others aren’t around, anyway,” Theo amended. “I know the title is expected, but you don’t have to keep it when we’re alone.”
The Queen offered an encouraging smile, but that smile dropped right off her face as soon as Sara’s caught the light. She looked so haggard for a girl of her age, so sad, dark circles drawn under her eyes as if with a paintbrush. But more alarming than that was the angry mark going down the side of her face, Theodora’s eyes widening as she opened the stall door and entered without another thought.
Most of the girl’s polite words were forgotten as Theo knelt down in the hay next to her, one hand gently cupping her jaw as she examined Sara’s cheek. “I’ve been fine,” she muttered in absent-minded response to her question, carefully turning the girl’s face so she might see it better. “Gods, Sara, what happened?” For a moment, she thought perhaps her touch would be unwelcome, that maybe the younger woman wouldn’t want her fussing, but the Queen couldn’t help herself. After all, she’d grown up with three younger sisters, and now, with a baby bouncing around in her belly, she couldn’t help the motherly concern that had her fingertips gently ghosting over her sister-in-law’s tender cheek.
“Are you all right? When did you get this?” Desperately, she tried to remember the last time she saw Sara, thinking surely she would have noticed such an angry wound marring her face. It couldn’t have been that long ago, surely? “Have you had it looked at? I can send for my healer if you haven’t…”
Sitting back on her heels, she went quiet as she noted her tear-swollen eyes, wrinkled clothing, red-streaked cheeks. Was it whoever gave her the wound that was causing her to look so… broken? Or was it something else?
Noting the parchment clutched in Sara’s fingers, her frown deepened a little, but she didn’t immediately comment, her gaze instead flicking back to the girl’s face. “What happened, Sara?” she asked, voice soft as she dropped her worrying hands and folded them in her lap. “What’s wrong?”
“You can call me Theodora, you know,” she commented when Sara responded to her teasing comment with ‘your majesty,’ chuckling and patting at Jaidee’s nose when it shoved up against her shoulder. Pulling a bit of apple that had been meant for Calista from a fold of her chiton, she offered it to the mare, who accepted it with a cheerful snuffle. “When others aren’t around, anyway,” Theo amended. “I know the title is expected, but you don’t have to keep it when we’re alone.”
The Queen offered an encouraging smile, but that smile dropped right off her face as soon as Sara’s caught the light. She looked so haggard for a girl of her age, so sad, dark circles drawn under her eyes as if with a paintbrush. But more alarming than that was the angry mark going down the side of her face, Theodora’s eyes widening as she opened the stall door and entered without another thought.
Most of the girl’s polite words were forgotten as Theo knelt down in the hay next to her, one hand gently cupping her jaw as she examined Sara’s cheek. “I’ve been fine,” she muttered in absent-minded response to her question, carefully turning the girl’s face so she might see it better. “Gods, Sara, what happened?” For a moment, she thought perhaps her touch would be unwelcome, that maybe the younger woman wouldn’t want her fussing, but the Queen couldn’t help herself. After all, she’d grown up with three younger sisters, and now, with a baby bouncing around in her belly, she couldn’t help the motherly concern that had her fingertips gently ghosting over her sister-in-law’s tender cheek.
“Are you all right? When did you get this?” Desperately, she tried to remember the last time she saw Sara, thinking surely she would have noticed such an angry wound marring her face. It couldn’t have been that long ago, surely? “Have you had it looked at? I can send for my healer if you haven’t…”
Sitting back on her heels, she went quiet as she noted her tear-swollen eyes, wrinkled clothing, red-streaked cheeks. Was it whoever gave her the wound that was causing her to look so… broken? Or was it something else?
Noting the parchment clutched in Sara’s fingers, her frown deepened a little, but she didn’t immediately comment, her gaze instead flicking back to the girl’s face. “What happened, Sara?” she asked, voice soft as she dropped her worrying hands and folded them in her lap. “What’s wrong?”
”Habits are hard to break.” She started to say, ready to offer an apology. She watched as the Queen’s smile slid from her face, replaced with...concern? I must look awful to get a reaction like that, Sara thought. She lifted her free hand to her face, trying to tuck away the letter from Alastor with the other as Theodora joined her in the stall. One moment she was standing, and the next she was kneeling beside her -- hand reaching to touch her face. She shied away, looking down at herself covered in hay and feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping along her features. She should have found a better hiding place.
Some small part of her thought it was nice to be fussed over. Her estrangement from Tasia was dragging on much longer than she would have liked, and she felt terrible bothering Emilios when he had to be dealing with much bigger things than his baby sister’s happiness. And of course Achilleas was out there somewhere, fighting to keep the country safe -- not that she thought he’d be all that concerned. Their relationship was awkward at best, even before all of this...insanity had started.
The slash was deep enough that it would scar, a diagonal line from the inner corner of her right eye down to the curve of her jaw. She’d been so shocked at being cut at all, having never in her life been subject to something so physically violent. It was red and angry, but no longer bleeding -- thankfully. And the man had missed her eye, so there was that to be thankful about.
”I’m fine, I’m fine.” She lied. ”I just...found myself in a little bit of trouble in the Agora. Nikos of Condos stopped the man before it could get any worse.” She tried to wave away the Queen’s concern, sitting up a little more.
Theodora pressed on, but Sara shook her head. ”I’ve done what I can with it, I don’t want to bother anyone.” She murmured. She had been so out of place since her father’s death, had been shuffled from place to place as she tried to find a place to belong and she was tired of feeling underfoot. She was about ready to give up entirely, admitting defeat and returning to whatever life it was that her mother had planned for her. She had been so strong, so determined to make her own way in the world but it seemed that doors continued to slam in her face.
What’s wrong?
It was the exact wrong thing to say, if only because it started the tears rising again. She pitched forward, throwing her arms around the young queen and burying her head into her shoulder. It was an inelegant thing, messy and perhaps childish but who could blame her? She was fifteen years old -- she was a child. She held onto Theo as tightly as she could muster, ignoring the discomfort of her cheek as salty tears rolled over it.
”I...I…” She stammered, swallowing hard. She was at odds with herself, two pieces of her telling -- screaming at her what to do. On the one hand, she knew she should pull back and pull herself together. It was embarrassing to cling to the Queen, someone not related to her at all, and cry. And the other just wanted to never let go. ”I think I must be...be cursed.” She said in a small voice, hiccupping with tears. She held on all the tighter.
”Y-you’re in love right? You know what that’s like?” She asked, her face still hidden against the other woman’s shoulder. ”Does it hurt? Is it...is it supposed to hurt so badly?”
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
”Habits are hard to break.” She started to say, ready to offer an apology. She watched as the Queen’s smile slid from her face, replaced with...concern? I must look awful to get a reaction like that, Sara thought. She lifted her free hand to her face, trying to tuck away the letter from Alastor with the other as Theodora joined her in the stall. One moment she was standing, and the next she was kneeling beside her -- hand reaching to touch her face. She shied away, looking down at herself covered in hay and feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping along her features. She should have found a better hiding place.
Some small part of her thought it was nice to be fussed over. Her estrangement from Tasia was dragging on much longer than she would have liked, and she felt terrible bothering Emilios when he had to be dealing with much bigger things than his baby sister’s happiness. And of course Achilleas was out there somewhere, fighting to keep the country safe -- not that she thought he’d be all that concerned. Their relationship was awkward at best, even before all of this...insanity had started.
The slash was deep enough that it would scar, a diagonal line from the inner corner of her right eye down to the curve of her jaw. She’d been so shocked at being cut at all, having never in her life been subject to something so physically violent. It was red and angry, but no longer bleeding -- thankfully. And the man had missed her eye, so there was that to be thankful about.
”I’m fine, I’m fine.” She lied. ”I just...found myself in a little bit of trouble in the Agora. Nikos of Condos stopped the man before it could get any worse.” She tried to wave away the Queen’s concern, sitting up a little more.
Theodora pressed on, but Sara shook her head. ”I’ve done what I can with it, I don’t want to bother anyone.” She murmured. She had been so out of place since her father’s death, had been shuffled from place to place as she tried to find a place to belong and she was tired of feeling underfoot. She was about ready to give up entirely, admitting defeat and returning to whatever life it was that her mother had planned for her. She had been so strong, so determined to make her own way in the world but it seemed that doors continued to slam in her face.
What’s wrong?
It was the exact wrong thing to say, if only because it started the tears rising again. She pitched forward, throwing her arms around the young queen and burying her head into her shoulder. It was an inelegant thing, messy and perhaps childish but who could blame her? She was fifteen years old -- she was a child. She held onto Theo as tightly as she could muster, ignoring the discomfort of her cheek as salty tears rolled over it.
”I...I…” She stammered, swallowing hard. She was at odds with herself, two pieces of her telling -- screaming at her what to do. On the one hand, she knew she should pull back and pull herself together. It was embarrassing to cling to the Queen, someone not related to her at all, and cry. And the other just wanted to never let go. ”I think I must be...be cursed.” She said in a small voice, hiccupping with tears. She held on all the tighter.
”Y-you’re in love right? You know what that’s like?” She asked, her face still hidden against the other woman’s shoulder. ”Does it hurt? Is it...is it supposed to hurt so badly?”
”Habits are hard to break.” She started to say, ready to offer an apology. She watched as the Queen’s smile slid from her face, replaced with...concern? I must look awful to get a reaction like that, Sara thought. She lifted her free hand to her face, trying to tuck away the letter from Alastor with the other as Theodora joined her in the stall. One moment she was standing, and the next she was kneeling beside her -- hand reaching to touch her face. She shied away, looking down at herself covered in hay and feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping along her features. She should have found a better hiding place.
Some small part of her thought it was nice to be fussed over. Her estrangement from Tasia was dragging on much longer than she would have liked, and she felt terrible bothering Emilios when he had to be dealing with much bigger things than his baby sister’s happiness. And of course Achilleas was out there somewhere, fighting to keep the country safe -- not that she thought he’d be all that concerned. Their relationship was awkward at best, even before all of this...insanity had started.
The slash was deep enough that it would scar, a diagonal line from the inner corner of her right eye down to the curve of her jaw. She’d been so shocked at being cut at all, having never in her life been subject to something so physically violent. It was red and angry, but no longer bleeding -- thankfully. And the man had missed her eye, so there was that to be thankful about.
”I’m fine, I’m fine.” She lied. ”I just...found myself in a little bit of trouble in the Agora. Nikos of Condos stopped the man before it could get any worse.” She tried to wave away the Queen’s concern, sitting up a little more.
Theodora pressed on, but Sara shook her head. ”I’ve done what I can with it, I don’t want to bother anyone.” She murmured. She had been so out of place since her father’s death, had been shuffled from place to place as she tried to find a place to belong and she was tired of feeling underfoot. She was about ready to give up entirely, admitting defeat and returning to whatever life it was that her mother had planned for her. She had been so strong, so determined to make her own way in the world but it seemed that doors continued to slam in her face.
What’s wrong?
It was the exact wrong thing to say, if only because it started the tears rising again. She pitched forward, throwing her arms around the young queen and burying her head into her shoulder. It was an inelegant thing, messy and perhaps childish but who could blame her? She was fifteen years old -- she was a child. She held onto Theo as tightly as she could muster, ignoring the discomfort of her cheek as salty tears rolled over it.
”I...I…” She stammered, swallowing hard. She was at odds with herself, two pieces of her telling -- screaming at her what to do. On the one hand, she knew she should pull back and pull herself together. It was embarrassing to cling to the Queen, someone not related to her at all, and cry. And the other just wanted to never let go. ”I think I must be...be cursed.” She said in a small voice, hiccupping with tears. She held on all the tighter.
”Y-you’re in love right? You know what that’s like?” She asked, her face still hidden against the other woman’s shoulder. ”Does it hurt? Is it...is it supposed to hurt so badly?”
