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Selene had always been a fairly devout person. When you were rumored to be blessed by the goddess of beauty herself, there was an odd need to do everything in your power to prove your devotion. Her mother had always whispered that it was important to keep the goddess in her favor, because beauty could be taken away in an instant. So the eldest Leventi did what anyone who was in her shoes would have done-- she offered up prayers frequently, leaving the goddess gifts at her temple back home. It wasn’t uncommon for her maids to ensure that a pomegranate was on her breakfast tray so that she could make the trek to pray, to continue to ensure the goddess’s favor in her life.
But after the events of the Circus, Selene found herself increasing her trips from weekly to more of a daily basis. Never before had violence been so close to home, at the very forefront of her mind. Never had she been thrown into the middle of it, running for her life as evil chased her heels. She lacked any skills to truly protect herself, save for her mastery of horseback riding. It had certainly caused her to rethink things as they were.
Firstly, the fact that Zacharias was dead had affected her more than she expected. It was not that they had agreed to marry, preparing to announce it the very night of his death. No, while the marriage agreement had been everything she could have hoped for, it was not a love match. After being pushed together their whole lives, Selene had convinced him that marrying her meant it didn’t need to be a love match. They had both been of the agreement that it was the smartest match for them, both politically and personally.They would both have their families off their back about marriage, able to use it as the guise to allow them the freedom to do as they wished. And after an heir or two, they wouldn’t even have to have any sort of physical relationship. They were friends, or the most part, and they would both be discreet.
Well, perhaps it was the loss of the marriage a bit.
But it was more that it was so personal, so obviously directed at the nobility of the kingdom that had her concerned. And, frankly, it gave her doubts as to her own ambitions. Did she even wish to find herself in a position that would daily out her life at risk? And even with the action that was taken to stop the Creed, she was still terrified of all that could happen. Could she bring children into a family that could be killed simply for its wealth?
It was a haunting thought, one that filled her nightmares.
The temple often brought her peace, allowed her to calm her mind enough to go about her day. It was worse when she was on the boat here, with no temple to ease her mind and a brand new maid, young and untrained, to keep her company. Now that she has been on shore, safe within the walls of the Athenian Capitol, it was easier to sleep.
Today, she’d opted to go without Jo, instead taking one of the palati guards with her. She stayed in the lavender hues of mourning, her chiton made of fine laces and silks. Hair in her normal loose waves, since they had opted to walk instead of riding, the weather was nice enough that the thin himation of a richer plum was all she needed. The guard seemed too nervous to speak with her, which was not uncommon— her beauty often caught people off guard. As she quietly made her way to the shrine, her eyes caught a figure that reminded her of her youngest sister. The pang of longing for her family, for the sisters she was rarely without, was a quiet ache in her heart. Perhaps she would write Theo as soon as she returned. And Nana would enjoy a new bolt of silks.
As they moved closer, Selene found herself wondering more and more about the girl. But she stayed quiet, more so when they both ventured off from the main structure towards the smaller room designed for Aphrodite. Pulling the fruit from the sack she carried, Selene brought out a small knife as well. With an expert and steady hand, she cut it in half before placing it on the altar, tucking the other half in her bag. Head bent, she quickly said her prayers, unsure if the girl would want privacy. Her eyes glanced to her every so often, surprised by how much she looked like Imma.
It took most of her power not to say something to her, not knowing anything about her as they quietly prayed their separate prayers.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Selene had always been a fairly devout person. When you were rumored to be blessed by the goddess of beauty herself, there was an odd need to do everything in your power to prove your devotion. Her mother had always whispered that it was important to keep the goddess in her favor, because beauty could be taken away in an instant. So the eldest Leventi did what anyone who was in her shoes would have done-- she offered up prayers frequently, leaving the goddess gifts at her temple back home. It wasn’t uncommon for her maids to ensure that a pomegranate was on her breakfast tray so that she could make the trek to pray, to continue to ensure the goddess’s favor in her life.
But after the events of the Circus, Selene found herself increasing her trips from weekly to more of a daily basis. Never before had violence been so close to home, at the very forefront of her mind. Never had she been thrown into the middle of it, running for her life as evil chased her heels. She lacked any skills to truly protect herself, save for her mastery of horseback riding. It had certainly caused her to rethink things as they were.
Firstly, the fact that Zacharias was dead had affected her more than she expected. It was not that they had agreed to marry, preparing to announce it the very night of his death. No, while the marriage agreement had been everything she could have hoped for, it was not a love match. After being pushed together their whole lives, Selene had convinced him that marrying her meant it didn’t need to be a love match. They had both been of the agreement that it was the smartest match for them, both politically and personally.They would both have their families off their back about marriage, able to use it as the guise to allow them the freedom to do as they wished. And after an heir or two, they wouldn’t even have to have any sort of physical relationship. They were friends, or the most part, and they would both be discreet.
Well, perhaps it was the loss of the marriage a bit.
But it was more that it was so personal, so obviously directed at the nobility of the kingdom that had her concerned. And, frankly, it gave her doubts as to her own ambitions. Did she even wish to find herself in a position that would daily out her life at risk? And even with the action that was taken to stop the Creed, she was still terrified of all that could happen. Could she bring children into a family that could be killed simply for its wealth?
It was a haunting thought, one that filled her nightmares.
The temple often brought her peace, allowed her to calm her mind enough to go about her day. It was worse when she was on the boat here, with no temple to ease her mind and a brand new maid, young and untrained, to keep her company. Now that she has been on shore, safe within the walls of the Athenian Capitol, it was easier to sleep.
Today, she’d opted to go without Jo, instead taking one of the palati guards with her. She stayed in the lavender hues of mourning, her chiton made of fine laces and silks. Hair in her normal loose waves, since they had opted to walk instead of riding, the weather was nice enough that the thin himation of a richer plum was all she needed. The guard seemed too nervous to speak with her, which was not uncommon— her beauty often caught people off guard. As she quietly made her way to the shrine, her eyes caught a figure that reminded her of her youngest sister. The pang of longing for her family, for the sisters she was rarely without, was a quiet ache in her heart. Perhaps she would write Theo as soon as she returned. And Nana would enjoy a new bolt of silks.
As they moved closer, Selene found herself wondering more and more about the girl. But she stayed quiet, more so when they both ventured off from the main structure towards the smaller room designed for Aphrodite. Pulling the fruit from the sack she carried, Selene brought out a small knife as well. With an expert and steady hand, she cut it in half before placing it on the altar, tucking the other half in her bag. Head bent, she quickly said her prayers, unsure if the girl would want privacy. Her eyes glanced to her every so often, surprised by how much she looked like Imma.
It took most of her power not to say something to her, not knowing anything about her as they quietly prayed their separate prayers.
Selene had always been a fairly devout person. When you were rumored to be blessed by the goddess of beauty herself, there was an odd need to do everything in your power to prove your devotion. Her mother had always whispered that it was important to keep the goddess in her favor, because beauty could be taken away in an instant. So the eldest Leventi did what anyone who was in her shoes would have done-- she offered up prayers frequently, leaving the goddess gifts at her temple back home. It wasn’t uncommon for her maids to ensure that a pomegranate was on her breakfast tray so that she could make the trek to pray, to continue to ensure the goddess’s favor in her life.
But after the events of the Circus, Selene found herself increasing her trips from weekly to more of a daily basis. Never before had violence been so close to home, at the very forefront of her mind. Never had she been thrown into the middle of it, running for her life as evil chased her heels. She lacked any skills to truly protect herself, save for her mastery of horseback riding. It had certainly caused her to rethink things as they were.
Firstly, the fact that Zacharias was dead had affected her more than she expected. It was not that they had agreed to marry, preparing to announce it the very night of his death. No, while the marriage agreement had been everything she could have hoped for, it was not a love match. After being pushed together their whole lives, Selene had convinced him that marrying her meant it didn’t need to be a love match. They had both been of the agreement that it was the smartest match for them, both politically and personally.They would both have their families off their back about marriage, able to use it as the guise to allow them the freedom to do as they wished. And after an heir or two, they wouldn’t even have to have any sort of physical relationship. They were friends, or the most part, and they would both be discreet.
Well, perhaps it was the loss of the marriage a bit.
But it was more that it was so personal, so obviously directed at the nobility of the kingdom that had her concerned. And, frankly, it gave her doubts as to her own ambitions. Did she even wish to find herself in a position that would daily out her life at risk? And even with the action that was taken to stop the Creed, she was still terrified of all that could happen. Could she bring children into a family that could be killed simply for its wealth?
It was a haunting thought, one that filled her nightmares.
The temple often brought her peace, allowed her to calm her mind enough to go about her day. It was worse when she was on the boat here, with no temple to ease her mind and a brand new maid, young and untrained, to keep her company. Now that she has been on shore, safe within the walls of the Athenian Capitol, it was easier to sleep.
Today, she’d opted to go without Jo, instead taking one of the palati guards with her. She stayed in the lavender hues of mourning, her chiton made of fine laces and silks. Hair in her normal loose waves, since they had opted to walk instead of riding, the weather was nice enough that the thin himation of a richer plum was all she needed. The guard seemed too nervous to speak with her, which was not uncommon— her beauty often caught people off guard. As she quietly made her way to the shrine, her eyes caught a figure that reminded her of her youngest sister. The pang of longing for her family, for the sisters she was rarely without, was a quiet ache in her heart. Perhaps she would write Theo as soon as she returned. And Nana would enjoy a new bolt of silks.
As they moved closer, Selene found herself wondering more and more about the girl. But she stayed quiet, more so when they both ventured off from the main structure towards the smaller room designed for Aphrodite. Pulling the fruit from the sack she carried, Selene brought out a small knife as well. With an expert and steady hand, she cut it in half before placing it on the altar, tucking the other half in her bag. Head bent, she quickly said her prayers, unsure if the girl would want privacy. Her eyes glanced to her every so often, surprised by how much she looked like Imma.
It took most of her power not to say something to her, not knowing anything about her as they quietly prayed their separate prayers.
Having been entirely absorbed in prayer, the petite form draped in a chiton of the purest white, with matching himation, was ignorant to the comings and goings of other worshipers. While she found herself paying homage more frequently to the gods, pleading for their mercy and temperance amid the growing turbulence in Athenia, she always committed extra time for Aphrodite, her personal patroness, for the beauty, kindness and love she had granted Rene. Despite being thought least in House Nickolaos, Rene complained and objected nary once. Despite her uselessness to the family, she was intentionally snubbed and cast out nary once. Despite being an unworthy servant, Rene had been graced with everything she needed....at least mostly. Having learned a long time ago to find happiness in the smallest bits and fragments, the tiny splendors and ordinary miracles, she wanted for no joy. Willing to accept whatever attention came her way from her parents and siblings, she wanted for no love. Amid the hardships in the kingdom, Rene found comfort in the blossoming and protected world of the Nickolaos estate, and contentment in so much as the opening of a flower bud. It was for such trivialities that she delighted and praised her gods and goddesses, so oft overlooked by those caught up in the endless parade of plotting and scheming and strategy required for treading the proverbial waters of aristocracy. Such inconsequential marvels were ill-afforded to those whose entire focus remained fixed on power, but not to Rene.
When she'd finished, the sat back on her haunches where she'd been kneeling, supplicating herself at the feet of the polished marble statue of the goddess of love. From a satchel, she produced a small urn, painted in cream derived from exotic sea shells, and gilded in gold, of Aphrodite herself, and laid it humbly at the stunning goddess' feet. In the softest of whispers, she allowed a singular last prayer, asking her patroness to accept her offering, the product of her own creative talents, carefully and diligently made, an exquisite piece, and one of her favorites by far, and made exclusively for the goddess.
At long last she stood, taking a moment to straighten her alabaster gown, reflective of her own gleaming purity, before turning to depart, when her eyes caught another who had likewise come to worship in Aphrodite's apse within the temple. She almost froze in place, trying not to stare, the makings of terror flashing over her own angelic features, as if Aphrodite herself had answered the girl's humble prayers and appeared in person. Despite her impeccable training as a lady of House Nicolaos, she was momentarily unsure what to do, and quickly shaking off the paralysis, she bowed. It was a safe enough gesture, if it either was Aphrodite, or a noble. "Forgive me," she said quietly, the apology offered in lieu of her poor reaction.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Having been entirely absorbed in prayer, the petite form draped in a chiton of the purest white, with matching himation, was ignorant to the comings and goings of other worshipers. While she found herself paying homage more frequently to the gods, pleading for their mercy and temperance amid the growing turbulence in Athenia, she always committed extra time for Aphrodite, her personal patroness, for the beauty, kindness and love she had granted Rene. Despite being thought least in House Nickolaos, Rene complained and objected nary once. Despite her uselessness to the family, she was intentionally snubbed and cast out nary once. Despite being an unworthy servant, Rene had been graced with everything she needed....at least mostly. Having learned a long time ago to find happiness in the smallest bits and fragments, the tiny splendors and ordinary miracles, she wanted for no joy. Willing to accept whatever attention came her way from her parents and siblings, she wanted for no love. Amid the hardships in the kingdom, Rene found comfort in the blossoming and protected world of the Nickolaos estate, and contentment in so much as the opening of a flower bud. It was for such trivialities that she delighted and praised her gods and goddesses, so oft overlooked by those caught up in the endless parade of plotting and scheming and strategy required for treading the proverbial waters of aristocracy. Such inconsequential marvels were ill-afforded to those whose entire focus remained fixed on power, but not to Rene.
When she'd finished, the sat back on her haunches where she'd been kneeling, supplicating herself at the feet of the polished marble statue of the goddess of love. From a satchel, she produced a small urn, painted in cream derived from exotic sea shells, and gilded in gold, of Aphrodite herself, and laid it humbly at the stunning goddess' feet. In the softest of whispers, she allowed a singular last prayer, asking her patroness to accept her offering, the product of her own creative talents, carefully and diligently made, an exquisite piece, and one of her favorites by far, and made exclusively for the goddess.
At long last she stood, taking a moment to straighten her alabaster gown, reflective of her own gleaming purity, before turning to depart, when her eyes caught another who had likewise come to worship in Aphrodite's apse within the temple. She almost froze in place, trying not to stare, the makings of terror flashing over her own angelic features, as if Aphrodite herself had answered the girl's humble prayers and appeared in person. Despite her impeccable training as a lady of House Nicolaos, she was momentarily unsure what to do, and quickly shaking off the paralysis, she bowed. It was a safe enough gesture, if it either was Aphrodite, or a noble. "Forgive me," she said quietly, the apology offered in lieu of her poor reaction.
Having been entirely absorbed in prayer, the petite form draped in a chiton of the purest white, with matching himation, was ignorant to the comings and goings of other worshipers. While she found herself paying homage more frequently to the gods, pleading for their mercy and temperance amid the growing turbulence in Athenia, she always committed extra time for Aphrodite, her personal patroness, for the beauty, kindness and love she had granted Rene. Despite being thought least in House Nickolaos, Rene complained and objected nary once. Despite her uselessness to the family, she was intentionally snubbed and cast out nary once. Despite being an unworthy servant, Rene had been graced with everything she needed....at least mostly. Having learned a long time ago to find happiness in the smallest bits and fragments, the tiny splendors and ordinary miracles, she wanted for no joy. Willing to accept whatever attention came her way from her parents and siblings, she wanted for no love. Amid the hardships in the kingdom, Rene found comfort in the blossoming and protected world of the Nickolaos estate, and contentment in so much as the opening of a flower bud. It was for such trivialities that she delighted and praised her gods and goddesses, so oft overlooked by those caught up in the endless parade of plotting and scheming and strategy required for treading the proverbial waters of aristocracy. Such inconsequential marvels were ill-afforded to those whose entire focus remained fixed on power, but not to Rene.
When she'd finished, the sat back on her haunches where she'd been kneeling, supplicating herself at the feet of the polished marble statue of the goddess of love. From a satchel, she produced a small urn, painted in cream derived from exotic sea shells, and gilded in gold, of Aphrodite herself, and laid it humbly at the stunning goddess' feet. In the softest of whispers, she allowed a singular last prayer, asking her patroness to accept her offering, the product of her own creative talents, carefully and diligently made, an exquisite piece, and one of her favorites by far, and made exclusively for the goddess.
At long last she stood, taking a moment to straighten her alabaster gown, reflective of her own gleaming purity, before turning to depart, when her eyes caught another who had likewise come to worship in Aphrodite's apse within the temple. She almost froze in place, trying not to stare, the makings of terror flashing over her own angelic features, as if Aphrodite herself had answered the girl's humble prayers and appeared in person. Despite her impeccable training as a lady of House Nicolaos, she was momentarily unsure what to do, and quickly shaking off the paralysis, she bowed. It was a safe enough gesture, if it either was Aphrodite, or a noble. "Forgive me," she said quietly, the apology offered in lieu of her poor reaction.
Selene, by now, was used to the effect she had on people. From birth, she was praised for her beauty, thought to be blessed by the goddess Aphrodite not only for her serene mannerism but her angelic face. It was always the first thing they noticed about her, when first introduced to her. As she bloomed from a cherub to a woman, it seemed as if people’s reactions changed as well. People would stare, unable to help themselves in their slack jawed expression. They would trip over themselves as they realized who she was. They would think of the rumors of the blessed Selene of Leventi and make their own judgment about her. In her experience, most assumed she was just a pretty face.
Those who took the time to get to know who she really was, like Emilia and Vangelis, learned that she was not simply a pretty face obsessed with her own looks. No, her looks were only a part of herself. She’d spent most of her life trying to be anything BUT her looks. She’d wanted to prove to those around her that her blessing may have been her beauty, but it also brought a strength with it as well.
Selene knew that beauty could run out, though her mother had said that she was certain no signs of age past 22 were on the blonde’s features. She knew that people who truly wanted to know her would see her for more, but that didn’t stop her from focusing on that part of herself. And it was part of the reason she made such a point to pray to the goddess as often as possible. Her life was easy, for the most part, because she was pretty. She could get whatever she wanted, could convince those around her to do what she wished, simply because she was gentle and lovely. And people were often concerned that offending her would be akin to offending Aphrodite herself, so they rarely did anything that might be seen as an affront to her.
But she could not bring herself to use that to her own advantage.
Instead, she made her offerings, like she did today, to both Aphrodite and her lover, Ares. And she tried not to judge people for their reactions to her. Like the bright eyed girl in front of her, who was staring at her as if she was truly the Goddess in the flesh. There was a giggle held in the back of her throat, one that she knew could possibly offend the young beauty. Instead, her eyes danced with a hit of joy, “Nonsense, I am the one who should be apologizing to you. I couldn’t help but compare you to my sister. I would assume you close to her age, and your talent is much like her own.” She bowed her head to the girl, respectful of her own greeting. “I am Selene of Leventi, and I did not mean to interrupt your prayers.”
She smiled, unable to help but wonder what the girl knew of her. “I am certain the goddess will find your offering most favorable. Especially when she compares it to my simple fruit. I shall have to try harder if I wish to stay in her favor like you, I think.”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Selene, by now, was used to the effect she had on people. From birth, she was praised for her beauty, thought to be blessed by the goddess Aphrodite not only for her serene mannerism but her angelic face. It was always the first thing they noticed about her, when first introduced to her. As she bloomed from a cherub to a woman, it seemed as if people’s reactions changed as well. People would stare, unable to help themselves in their slack jawed expression. They would trip over themselves as they realized who she was. They would think of the rumors of the blessed Selene of Leventi and make their own judgment about her. In her experience, most assumed she was just a pretty face.
Those who took the time to get to know who she really was, like Emilia and Vangelis, learned that she was not simply a pretty face obsessed with her own looks. No, her looks were only a part of herself. She’d spent most of her life trying to be anything BUT her looks. She’d wanted to prove to those around her that her blessing may have been her beauty, but it also brought a strength with it as well.
Selene knew that beauty could run out, though her mother had said that she was certain no signs of age past 22 were on the blonde’s features. She knew that people who truly wanted to know her would see her for more, but that didn’t stop her from focusing on that part of herself. And it was part of the reason she made such a point to pray to the goddess as often as possible. Her life was easy, for the most part, because she was pretty. She could get whatever she wanted, could convince those around her to do what she wished, simply because she was gentle and lovely. And people were often concerned that offending her would be akin to offending Aphrodite herself, so they rarely did anything that might be seen as an affront to her.
But she could not bring herself to use that to her own advantage.
Instead, she made her offerings, like she did today, to both Aphrodite and her lover, Ares. And she tried not to judge people for their reactions to her. Like the bright eyed girl in front of her, who was staring at her as if she was truly the Goddess in the flesh. There was a giggle held in the back of her throat, one that she knew could possibly offend the young beauty. Instead, her eyes danced with a hit of joy, “Nonsense, I am the one who should be apologizing to you. I couldn’t help but compare you to my sister. I would assume you close to her age, and your talent is much like her own.” She bowed her head to the girl, respectful of her own greeting. “I am Selene of Leventi, and I did not mean to interrupt your prayers.”
She smiled, unable to help but wonder what the girl knew of her. “I am certain the goddess will find your offering most favorable. Especially when she compares it to my simple fruit. I shall have to try harder if I wish to stay in her favor like you, I think.”
Selene, by now, was used to the effect she had on people. From birth, she was praised for her beauty, thought to be blessed by the goddess Aphrodite not only for her serene mannerism but her angelic face. It was always the first thing they noticed about her, when first introduced to her. As she bloomed from a cherub to a woman, it seemed as if people’s reactions changed as well. People would stare, unable to help themselves in their slack jawed expression. They would trip over themselves as they realized who she was. They would think of the rumors of the blessed Selene of Leventi and make their own judgment about her. In her experience, most assumed she was just a pretty face.
Those who took the time to get to know who she really was, like Emilia and Vangelis, learned that she was not simply a pretty face obsessed with her own looks. No, her looks were only a part of herself. She’d spent most of her life trying to be anything BUT her looks. She’d wanted to prove to those around her that her blessing may have been her beauty, but it also brought a strength with it as well.
Selene knew that beauty could run out, though her mother had said that she was certain no signs of age past 22 were on the blonde’s features. She knew that people who truly wanted to know her would see her for more, but that didn’t stop her from focusing on that part of herself. And it was part of the reason she made such a point to pray to the goddess as often as possible. Her life was easy, for the most part, because she was pretty. She could get whatever she wanted, could convince those around her to do what she wished, simply because she was gentle and lovely. And people were often concerned that offending her would be akin to offending Aphrodite herself, so they rarely did anything that might be seen as an affront to her.
But she could not bring herself to use that to her own advantage.
Instead, she made her offerings, like she did today, to both Aphrodite and her lover, Ares. And she tried not to judge people for their reactions to her. Like the bright eyed girl in front of her, who was staring at her as if she was truly the Goddess in the flesh. There was a giggle held in the back of her throat, one that she knew could possibly offend the young beauty. Instead, her eyes danced with a hit of joy, “Nonsense, I am the one who should be apologizing to you. I couldn’t help but compare you to my sister. I would assume you close to her age, and your talent is much like her own.” She bowed her head to the girl, respectful of her own greeting. “I am Selene of Leventi, and I did not mean to interrupt your prayers.”
She smiled, unable to help but wonder what the girl knew of her. “I am certain the goddess will find your offering most favorable. Especially when she compares it to my simple fruit. I shall have to try harder if I wish to stay in her favor like you, I think.”
The surprise scattered across Rene’s cherubic features flickered as the sound of light laughing broke the tension. Drawing a subtle yet sheepish grin from her, the girl shifted her weight. Offering the noble a reverent bow, Rene straightened to let her eyes of glittering cerulean come to rest on the near-goddess in front of her. “It is an honor, Lady Selene. I am Rene of House Nickolaos. Your sister is unknown to me, but I can only imagine her to be as exquisite as you are. Such praise honors me,” she answered. “I am nearly seventeen.”
Unwilling to dishonor the gods by holding menial conversations in their temple, Rene descended the steps of Aphrodite’s dais to move towards the exit. “If our prayers are concluded, we should depart. Thoughts and words in the temple should be directed only unto the gods, not their servants,” she noted quietly. She cut a glance back over her shoulder towards the urn she’d left at her goddess’ feet. “I hope my efforts are found worthy, as I believe yours are also. I have never known the gods to refuse any offering.” Every few days, Rene presented each of the gods in rotation with a token she’d poured her time and effort and love into. “I very much doubt you would fall out of favor with Aphrodite at all. She has lent you her beauty. Surely she holds you in high regard.”
As the nobles moved a breast to the temple entrance, emerging from the ornamental arches, Rene’s multi-tiered gown fluttered around her as a light breeze welcomed them to the outside. “You mentioned that your sister has similar talent? I am always eager to hear of the accomplishments of those pursuant in the arts. Do tell, if it pleases her Ladyship.”
Taking a moment to push down the light gauzy veil that had covered her head in the temple, Rene’s golden hair gleamed in the sunlight that poured through the towering pillars and gardens sprawled from the feet of the temple. “I am afraid I do not recognize Leventi as Athenian. You are here visiting then?”
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The surprise scattered across Rene’s cherubic features flickered as the sound of light laughing broke the tension. Drawing a subtle yet sheepish grin from her, the girl shifted her weight. Offering the noble a reverent bow, Rene straightened to let her eyes of glittering cerulean come to rest on the near-goddess in front of her. “It is an honor, Lady Selene. I am Rene of House Nickolaos. Your sister is unknown to me, but I can only imagine her to be as exquisite as you are. Such praise honors me,” she answered. “I am nearly seventeen.”
Unwilling to dishonor the gods by holding menial conversations in their temple, Rene descended the steps of Aphrodite’s dais to move towards the exit. “If our prayers are concluded, we should depart. Thoughts and words in the temple should be directed only unto the gods, not their servants,” she noted quietly. She cut a glance back over her shoulder towards the urn she’d left at her goddess’ feet. “I hope my efforts are found worthy, as I believe yours are also. I have never known the gods to refuse any offering.” Every few days, Rene presented each of the gods in rotation with a token she’d poured her time and effort and love into. “I very much doubt you would fall out of favor with Aphrodite at all. She has lent you her beauty. Surely she holds you in high regard.”
As the nobles moved a breast to the temple entrance, emerging from the ornamental arches, Rene’s multi-tiered gown fluttered around her as a light breeze welcomed them to the outside. “You mentioned that your sister has similar talent? I am always eager to hear of the accomplishments of those pursuant in the arts. Do tell, if it pleases her Ladyship.”
Taking a moment to push down the light gauzy veil that had covered her head in the temple, Rene’s golden hair gleamed in the sunlight that poured through the towering pillars and gardens sprawled from the feet of the temple. “I am afraid I do not recognize Leventi as Athenian. You are here visiting then?”
The surprise scattered across Rene’s cherubic features flickered as the sound of light laughing broke the tension. Drawing a subtle yet sheepish grin from her, the girl shifted her weight. Offering the noble a reverent bow, Rene straightened to let her eyes of glittering cerulean come to rest on the near-goddess in front of her. “It is an honor, Lady Selene. I am Rene of House Nickolaos. Your sister is unknown to me, but I can only imagine her to be as exquisite as you are. Such praise honors me,” she answered. “I am nearly seventeen.”
Unwilling to dishonor the gods by holding menial conversations in their temple, Rene descended the steps of Aphrodite’s dais to move towards the exit. “If our prayers are concluded, we should depart. Thoughts and words in the temple should be directed only unto the gods, not their servants,” she noted quietly. She cut a glance back over her shoulder towards the urn she’d left at her goddess’ feet. “I hope my efforts are found worthy, as I believe yours are also. I have never known the gods to refuse any offering.” Every few days, Rene presented each of the gods in rotation with a token she’d poured her time and effort and love into. “I very much doubt you would fall out of favor with Aphrodite at all. She has lent you her beauty. Surely she holds you in high regard.”
As the nobles moved a breast to the temple entrance, emerging from the ornamental arches, Rene’s multi-tiered gown fluttered around her as a light breeze welcomed them to the outside. “You mentioned that your sister has similar talent? I am always eager to hear of the accomplishments of those pursuant in the arts. Do tell, if it pleases her Ladyship.”
Taking a moment to push down the light gauzy veil that had covered her head in the temple, Rene’s golden hair gleamed in the sunlight that poured through the towering pillars and gardens sprawled from the feet of the temple. “I am afraid I do not recognize Leventi as Athenian. You are here visiting then?”
