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She had prayed all that day that her family would be welcomed back into the good graces of the king. Though she understood why her brother had acted the way that he had, she still found it to be extremely foolish. One did not act against a royal, it was too dangerous. Surely Nikos knew that? For one so concerned with the image of the family, she found his recent behaviour to be rather perplexing. He surely knew that Achileas had no bastard child: Achileas was a pillar of virtue, a credit to the Gods. Not, of course, that her brother was not in his own way, but to fabricate such lies about a perfectly decent person was certainly not the way to go about things. She knew that Nikos and Achileas had never exactly seen eye to eye, but things were different now; Achileas was their ruler, chosen by the Gods to govern them, and thus deserving of great respect. Nikos wished for the throne, she knew, but if it was fated then their time would come and when it did she hoped that no individual would cast such slanderous accusations upon them.
And so she had prayed: to Athena to lend her father the wisdom he would need to sway the king; to Hestia, to incline to the young ruler towards forgiveness; to Tyche, to bring good fortune upon her family once again. She knelt diligently in her chambers until the sky grew dark, and at table was rewarded with the news that House Condos was once more in favour with the King. That very night, she resolved to visit the blessed man on the morrow. Perhaps he would welcome the most cordial Condos. She would bring a gift in tribute to his rule, she would speak kindly, she would ensure that the relations between their two houses remained strong -- or as strong as they could be with a Leventi on the throne. She would have to be careful to make no mention of her dislike for Theodora.
Once upon a time, she had been hopeful that Achileas might offer his hand to her, but that time had long since passed. He had chosen his path. Once more, a Leventi had snatched from her the chance of an advantageous and possibly happy marriage, but she could not let her feelings show. Achileas was very fond of his bride, this was known. In his eyes, she was perfection personified. Leventi's were clever like that, disguising their true selves almost like chameleons to become whatever they needed in order to gain the advantage. Ophelia had never quite managed to become such a master of disguise. She was more open, more sincere. Perhaps that was a good thing, perhaps not. That was for her future husband to decide, if ever a man decided she was worth taking to the altar.
She arose early the next day, instructing two slaves to draw a bath and another two to prepare her a breakfast of her favourite fruits and cheeses. She ate slowly, quietly reflecting on the things she might say to Achileas, before soaking in a tub infused with the scent of frankincense and myrrh. The familiar fragrance clung to her skin like a thin layer of clothing after her emergence, bringing her comfort. After her body was completely dry, one slave massaged myrrh oil into her smooth skin.
Several hours later, she was decked out in all her finery. Her chiton was of Condos blue, the silken fabric sweeping just past her ankles. Her waist was artfully sculpted with a thick golden belt studded with sapphires of all shapes and sizes. Her long mahogany tresses had been combed until they shone, then half of them twisted into a braided bun that resembled the Condos rose, while the rest remained loose about her waist. A golden coronet studded with sapphires was perched atop her head, matching the gold and sapphire earrings that dangled like miniature chandeliers in her small ears and the sapphire teardrops that hung from a gold chain about her throat.
She had sought permission the previous day to make this excursion, so nobody questioned her when she sent a slave to the wine cellars to collect a cask of their best wine, nor when she herself carefully selected and packed a wicker basket with succulent fruits and cheeses, some of the latest catches from the ocean, and even a few joints of rare, succulent meat. By the time she called for one of their best carriages, the mid-morning sun was high in the sky.
She had visited the Palati many times to attend court, and many times she had done so alone, but this felt different somehow. She had no idea how she would be received, and this sent her stomach into a nervous flutter. As she descended from the carriage and explained from the carriage, she began to wonder if this had indeed been a good idea. "Lady Ophelia?" a guard she knew well stepped forward to address her and immediately those thoughts were dispelled. "What brings you here today?" "I seek an audience with His Grace," she explained politely. "May I see him?" There was a slightly tentative note to her voice, she realized. The guard too sensed that she was not quite herself today, for he offered her the subtlest of smiles, a paternal gesture that she secretly appreciated. "If you will wait here, My Lady, I will see if it can be arranged."
She did not know how long she waited, but she was quite happy to do so. She was easily able to carry the basket herself with only one hand, but she knew that she would need a servant to carry the cask of wine. She could not handle two heavy things alone. As she waited, some of the guards greeted her, as did many of the servants she had recommended to the Mikaelidas' for employment here, former charity cases of hers. Eventually, the guard who had originally addressed her returned, nodding his head in her direction. "He will see you," he told her, beckoning a servant forward to carry the cask of wine. WIth Ophelia carrying the basket and the servant carrying the wine, the trinity proceeded through the labyrinthine halls of the Palati in silence, towards the Solar Rooms.
"Lady Ophelia of Condos, Your Grace," the herald announced, his voice ringing out like music. Ophelia drifted gracefully into the room, her movements almost like a poetic string of pearls as she glided forward to greet her young ruler. Upon reaching him, she set down the basket before sinking into a deep curtsy, bowing her head low in reverence.
"Your Majesty, I am very grateful that you have done me the honour of receiving me today," her voice was quiet, but by no means meek, her every word perfectly anticipated. Rising slowly from her bowed position, she gestured with one hand to the basket of food and with the other to the cask of wine which the servant was now slowly placing on the ground. "I come with gifts for my new King."
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She had prayed all that day that her family would be welcomed back into the good graces of the king. Though she understood why her brother had acted the way that he had, she still found it to be extremely foolish. One did not act against a royal, it was too dangerous. Surely Nikos knew that? For one so concerned with the image of the family, she found his recent behaviour to be rather perplexing. He surely knew that Achileas had no bastard child: Achileas was a pillar of virtue, a credit to the Gods. Not, of course, that her brother was not in his own way, but to fabricate such lies about a perfectly decent person was certainly not the way to go about things. She knew that Nikos and Achileas had never exactly seen eye to eye, but things were different now; Achileas was their ruler, chosen by the Gods to govern them, and thus deserving of great respect. Nikos wished for the throne, she knew, but if it was fated then their time would come and when it did she hoped that no individual would cast such slanderous accusations upon them.
And so she had prayed: to Athena to lend her father the wisdom he would need to sway the king; to Hestia, to incline to the young ruler towards forgiveness; to Tyche, to bring good fortune upon her family once again. She knelt diligently in her chambers until the sky grew dark, and at table was rewarded with the news that House Condos was once more in favour with the King. That very night, she resolved to visit the blessed man on the morrow. Perhaps he would welcome the most cordial Condos. She would bring a gift in tribute to his rule, she would speak kindly, she would ensure that the relations between their two houses remained strong -- or as strong as they could be with a Leventi on the throne. She would have to be careful to make no mention of her dislike for Theodora.
Once upon a time, she had been hopeful that Achileas might offer his hand to her, but that time had long since passed. He had chosen his path. Once more, a Leventi had snatched from her the chance of an advantageous and possibly happy marriage, but she could not let her feelings show. Achileas was very fond of his bride, this was known. In his eyes, she was perfection personified. Leventi's were clever like that, disguising their true selves almost like chameleons to become whatever they needed in order to gain the advantage. Ophelia had never quite managed to become such a master of disguise. She was more open, more sincere. Perhaps that was a good thing, perhaps not. That was for her future husband to decide, if ever a man decided she was worth taking to the altar.
She arose early the next day, instructing two slaves to draw a bath and another two to prepare her a breakfast of her favourite fruits and cheeses. She ate slowly, quietly reflecting on the things she might say to Achileas, before soaking in a tub infused with the scent of frankincense and myrrh. The familiar fragrance clung to her skin like a thin layer of clothing after her emergence, bringing her comfort. After her body was completely dry, one slave massaged myrrh oil into her smooth skin.
Several hours later, she was decked out in all her finery. Her chiton was of Condos blue, the silken fabric sweeping just past her ankles. Her waist was artfully sculpted with a thick golden belt studded with sapphires of all shapes and sizes. Her long mahogany tresses had been combed until they shone, then half of them twisted into a braided bun that resembled the Condos rose, while the rest remained loose about her waist. A golden coronet studded with sapphires was perched atop her head, matching the gold and sapphire earrings that dangled like miniature chandeliers in her small ears and the sapphire teardrops that hung from a gold chain about her throat.
She had sought permission the previous day to make this excursion, so nobody questioned her when she sent a slave to the wine cellars to collect a cask of their best wine, nor when she herself carefully selected and packed a wicker basket with succulent fruits and cheeses, some of the latest catches from the ocean, and even a few joints of rare, succulent meat. By the time she called for one of their best carriages, the mid-morning sun was high in the sky.
She had visited the Palati many times to attend court, and many times she had done so alone, but this felt different somehow. She had no idea how she would be received, and this sent her stomach into a nervous flutter. As she descended from the carriage and explained from the carriage, she began to wonder if this had indeed been a good idea. "Lady Ophelia?" a guard she knew well stepped forward to address her and immediately those thoughts were dispelled. "What brings you here today?" "I seek an audience with His Grace," she explained politely. "May I see him?" There was a slightly tentative note to her voice, she realized. The guard too sensed that she was not quite herself today, for he offered her the subtlest of smiles, a paternal gesture that she secretly appreciated. "If you will wait here, My Lady, I will see if it can be arranged."
She did not know how long she waited, but she was quite happy to do so. She was easily able to carry the basket herself with only one hand, but she knew that she would need a servant to carry the cask of wine. She could not handle two heavy things alone. As she waited, some of the guards greeted her, as did many of the servants she had recommended to the Mikaelidas' for employment here, former charity cases of hers. Eventually, the guard who had originally addressed her returned, nodding his head in her direction. "He will see you," he told her, beckoning a servant forward to carry the cask of wine. WIth Ophelia carrying the basket and the servant carrying the wine, the trinity proceeded through the labyrinthine halls of the Palati in silence, towards the Solar Rooms.
"Lady Ophelia of Condos, Your Grace," the herald announced, his voice ringing out like music. Ophelia drifted gracefully into the room, her movements almost like a poetic string of pearls as she glided forward to greet her young ruler. Upon reaching him, she set down the basket before sinking into a deep curtsy, bowing her head low in reverence.
"Your Majesty, I am very grateful that you have done me the honour of receiving me today," her voice was quiet, but by no means meek, her every word perfectly anticipated. Rising slowly from her bowed position, she gestured with one hand to the basket of food and with the other to the cask of wine which the servant was now slowly placing on the ground. "I come with gifts for my new King."
She had prayed all that day that her family would be welcomed back into the good graces of the king. Though she understood why her brother had acted the way that he had, she still found it to be extremely foolish. One did not act against a royal, it was too dangerous. Surely Nikos knew that? For one so concerned with the image of the family, she found his recent behaviour to be rather perplexing. He surely knew that Achileas had no bastard child: Achileas was a pillar of virtue, a credit to the Gods. Not, of course, that her brother was not in his own way, but to fabricate such lies about a perfectly decent person was certainly not the way to go about things. She knew that Nikos and Achileas had never exactly seen eye to eye, but things were different now; Achileas was their ruler, chosen by the Gods to govern them, and thus deserving of great respect. Nikos wished for the throne, she knew, but if it was fated then their time would come and when it did she hoped that no individual would cast such slanderous accusations upon them.
And so she had prayed: to Athena to lend her father the wisdom he would need to sway the king; to Hestia, to incline to the young ruler towards forgiveness; to Tyche, to bring good fortune upon her family once again. She knelt diligently in her chambers until the sky grew dark, and at table was rewarded with the news that House Condos was once more in favour with the King. That very night, she resolved to visit the blessed man on the morrow. Perhaps he would welcome the most cordial Condos. She would bring a gift in tribute to his rule, she would speak kindly, she would ensure that the relations between their two houses remained strong -- or as strong as they could be with a Leventi on the throne. She would have to be careful to make no mention of her dislike for Theodora.
Once upon a time, she had been hopeful that Achileas might offer his hand to her, but that time had long since passed. He had chosen his path. Once more, a Leventi had snatched from her the chance of an advantageous and possibly happy marriage, but she could not let her feelings show. Achileas was very fond of his bride, this was known. In his eyes, she was perfection personified. Leventi's were clever like that, disguising their true selves almost like chameleons to become whatever they needed in order to gain the advantage. Ophelia had never quite managed to become such a master of disguise. She was more open, more sincere. Perhaps that was a good thing, perhaps not. That was for her future husband to decide, if ever a man decided she was worth taking to the altar.
She arose early the next day, instructing two slaves to draw a bath and another two to prepare her a breakfast of her favourite fruits and cheeses. She ate slowly, quietly reflecting on the things she might say to Achileas, before soaking in a tub infused with the scent of frankincense and myrrh. The familiar fragrance clung to her skin like a thin layer of clothing after her emergence, bringing her comfort. After her body was completely dry, one slave massaged myrrh oil into her smooth skin.
Several hours later, she was decked out in all her finery. Her chiton was of Condos blue, the silken fabric sweeping just past her ankles. Her waist was artfully sculpted with a thick golden belt studded with sapphires of all shapes and sizes. Her long mahogany tresses had been combed until they shone, then half of them twisted into a braided bun that resembled the Condos rose, while the rest remained loose about her waist. A golden coronet studded with sapphires was perched atop her head, matching the gold and sapphire earrings that dangled like miniature chandeliers in her small ears and the sapphire teardrops that hung from a gold chain about her throat.
She had sought permission the previous day to make this excursion, so nobody questioned her when she sent a slave to the wine cellars to collect a cask of their best wine, nor when she herself carefully selected and packed a wicker basket with succulent fruits and cheeses, some of the latest catches from the ocean, and even a few joints of rare, succulent meat. By the time she called for one of their best carriages, the mid-morning sun was high in the sky.
She had visited the Palati many times to attend court, and many times she had done so alone, but this felt different somehow. She had no idea how she would be received, and this sent her stomach into a nervous flutter. As she descended from the carriage and explained from the carriage, she began to wonder if this had indeed been a good idea. "Lady Ophelia?" a guard she knew well stepped forward to address her and immediately those thoughts were dispelled. "What brings you here today?" "I seek an audience with His Grace," she explained politely. "May I see him?" There was a slightly tentative note to her voice, she realized. The guard too sensed that she was not quite herself today, for he offered her the subtlest of smiles, a paternal gesture that she secretly appreciated. "If you will wait here, My Lady, I will see if it can be arranged."
She did not know how long she waited, but she was quite happy to do so. She was easily able to carry the basket herself with only one hand, but she knew that she would need a servant to carry the cask of wine. She could not handle two heavy things alone. As she waited, some of the guards greeted her, as did many of the servants she had recommended to the Mikaelidas' for employment here, former charity cases of hers. Eventually, the guard who had originally addressed her returned, nodding his head in her direction. "He will see you," he told her, beckoning a servant forward to carry the cask of wine. WIth Ophelia carrying the basket and the servant carrying the wine, the trinity proceeded through the labyrinthine halls of the Palati in silence, towards the Solar Rooms.
"Lady Ophelia of Condos, Your Grace," the herald announced, his voice ringing out like music. Ophelia drifted gracefully into the room, her movements almost like a poetic string of pearls as she glided forward to greet her young ruler. Upon reaching him, she set down the basket before sinking into a deep curtsy, bowing her head low in reverence.
"Your Majesty, I am very grateful that you have done me the honour of receiving me today," her voice was quiet, but by no means meek, her every word perfectly anticipated. Rising slowly from her bowed position, she gestured with one hand to the basket of food and with the other to the cask of wine which the servant was now slowly placing on the ground. "I come with gifts for my new King."
Achilleas had spent a rather draining morning at the Mikaelidas archontiko, sorting through some of his father’s effects that had been left there. A taxing enough task for any child after losing a parent, but it had been made even more fraught by his absolute desire to avoid crossing paths with Meena. Emilios had served his father’s mistress her marching orders, and there was not a single part of the new King that felt bad about displacing her.
The girls…, well that was more complicated, and he’d a touching farewell from Sara that had left him second-guessing the decision he and Emilios had come to. Yes, his brother had invited the girls back but seeing Sara packing her things, knowing that she too would be grieving after losing the man whose blood they shared...it had left him a little unsettled, truth be told.
He’d returned to the palati feeling as if he’d done a wrong, a notion that never sat well with the Mikaelidas man, and Achilleas had found it difficult to focus as the Master of War had made his report, had to drag his concentration back to the matter at hand; a matter than should have commanded all his attention.
Preparations were almost complete for his sailing in a few days, the men hand-picked, the provisions gathered. Still, Achilleas liked to be sure of the detail, so he’d made the man go through his ledgers until he was satisfied and then had waved him away so he might just have a moment to himself. They seemed a rare commodity in the days since the wedding.
He still was not sleeping well, the bedchamber as grand and luxurious as one might think, but it was unfamiliar. More unfamiliar still was the presence of a warm body sleeping next to him every night, and though he and Theodora seemed to be finding their way to getting along, it was still..odd. Kneading at what felt like an everpresent headache, the King looked up wearily as one of the palati servants entered and informed the Lady Ophelia od Condos was requesting an audience.
How he wished to say no. There had been nothing arranged; he was most sure of it - the palace staff were too good at shepherding him through his day of appointments and receptions as it was. He was tired and hadn’t yet stopped, but it would be considered a slight perhaps, and one he didn't intend if he were to send the Condos woman away. And so Achilleas sighed and gave a curt nod. “Very well. In the solar rooms though, perhaps the fresh air will be revitalising.”
With the servant gone to admit Lady Ophelia, Achilleas made his way to one of the many rooms that looked onto on the sweeping grounds of the palati. Open-sided, gauzy panels of fabric drifted between the stonework pillars, low levelled, less formal seating gathered around dark walnut tables. The new king took a moment to straighten his chiton, pushed aside his weariness and pasted on a smile as the herald announced his visitor.
Standing by one of the open portals to the gardens, the Mikaelidas could not fail to present an impressive presence, no matter than the blue eyes were shadowed and the welcoming smile a little strained at the edges. Allowing the young woman to make her greeting first, Achilleas’ gaze drifted momentarily to the offerings she brought before they fastened once more on Ophelia as she rose back to standing.
“Lady Ophelia, you are most welcome. And thank you, you are generous, and though there is no need, I assure you, I appreciate the thought.”
He gestured for one of the servants at the edge of the room to take receipt of the gifts before motioning for his guest to sit as he did so himself. Another servant was quick to offer watered wine, and Achilleas waited until Ophelia had been properly attended to before he spoke. “It is purely a social visit, my lady, or have you other business?” The truth of it was, Achilleas wasn’t sure how much more he could stand of people bringing their commiserations, or congratulations, or whatever strange mix of the two they inevitably decided to settle on. It made his face ache to raise so many bland smiles, and his chest hurt to have to swallow back the tightness in his throat each time he acknowledged people’s respects for his later Father. Perhaps, he prayed, this would not be another such visit.
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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Achilleas had spent a rather draining morning at the Mikaelidas archontiko, sorting through some of his father’s effects that had been left there. A taxing enough task for any child after losing a parent, but it had been made even more fraught by his absolute desire to avoid crossing paths with Meena. Emilios had served his father’s mistress her marching orders, and there was not a single part of the new King that felt bad about displacing her.
The girls…, well that was more complicated, and he’d a touching farewell from Sara that had left him second-guessing the decision he and Emilios had come to. Yes, his brother had invited the girls back but seeing Sara packing her things, knowing that she too would be grieving after losing the man whose blood they shared...it had left him a little unsettled, truth be told.
He’d returned to the palati feeling as if he’d done a wrong, a notion that never sat well with the Mikaelidas man, and Achilleas had found it difficult to focus as the Master of War had made his report, had to drag his concentration back to the matter at hand; a matter than should have commanded all his attention.
Preparations were almost complete for his sailing in a few days, the men hand-picked, the provisions gathered. Still, Achilleas liked to be sure of the detail, so he’d made the man go through his ledgers until he was satisfied and then had waved him away so he might just have a moment to himself. They seemed a rare commodity in the days since the wedding.
He still was not sleeping well, the bedchamber as grand and luxurious as one might think, but it was unfamiliar. More unfamiliar still was the presence of a warm body sleeping next to him every night, and though he and Theodora seemed to be finding their way to getting along, it was still..odd. Kneading at what felt like an everpresent headache, the King looked up wearily as one of the palati servants entered and informed the Lady Ophelia od Condos was requesting an audience.
How he wished to say no. There had been nothing arranged; he was most sure of it - the palace staff were too good at shepherding him through his day of appointments and receptions as it was. He was tired and hadn’t yet stopped, but it would be considered a slight perhaps, and one he didn't intend if he were to send the Condos woman away. And so Achilleas sighed and gave a curt nod. “Very well. In the solar rooms though, perhaps the fresh air will be revitalising.”
With the servant gone to admit Lady Ophelia, Achilleas made his way to one of the many rooms that looked onto on the sweeping grounds of the palati. Open-sided, gauzy panels of fabric drifted between the stonework pillars, low levelled, less formal seating gathered around dark walnut tables. The new king took a moment to straighten his chiton, pushed aside his weariness and pasted on a smile as the herald announced his visitor.
Standing by one of the open portals to the gardens, the Mikaelidas could not fail to present an impressive presence, no matter than the blue eyes were shadowed and the welcoming smile a little strained at the edges. Allowing the young woman to make her greeting first, Achilleas’ gaze drifted momentarily to the offerings she brought before they fastened once more on Ophelia as she rose back to standing.
“Lady Ophelia, you are most welcome. And thank you, you are generous, and though there is no need, I assure you, I appreciate the thought.”
He gestured for one of the servants at the edge of the room to take receipt of the gifts before motioning for his guest to sit as he did so himself. Another servant was quick to offer watered wine, and Achilleas waited until Ophelia had been properly attended to before he spoke. “It is purely a social visit, my lady, or have you other business?” The truth of it was, Achilleas wasn’t sure how much more he could stand of people bringing their commiserations, or congratulations, or whatever strange mix of the two they inevitably decided to settle on. It made his face ache to raise so many bland smiles, and his chest hurt to have to swallow back the tightness in his throat each time he acknowledged people’s respects for his later Father. Perhaps, he prayed, this would not be another such visit.
Achilleas had spent a rather draining morning at the Mikaelidas archontiko, sorting through some of his father’s effects that had been left there. A taxing enough task for any child after losing a parent, but it had been made even more fraught by his absolute desire to avoid crossing paths with Meena. Emilios had served his father’s mistress her marching orders, and there was not a single part of the new King that felt bad about displacing her.
The girls…, well that was more complicated, and he’d a touching farewell from Sara that had left him second-guessing the decision he and Emilios had come to. Yes, his brother had invited the girls back but seeing Sara packing her things, knowing that she too would be grieving after losing the man whose blood they shared...it had left him a little unsettled, truth be told.
He’d returned to the palati feeling as if he’d done a wrong, a notion that never sat well with the Mikaelidas man, and Achilleas had found it difficult to focus as the Master of War had made his report, had to drag his concentration back to the matter at hand; a matter than should have commanded all his attention.
Preparations were almost complete for his sailing in a few days, the men hand-picked, the provisions gathered. Still, Achilleas liked to be sure of the detail, so he’d made the man go through his ledgers until he was satisfied and then had waved him away so he might just have a moment to himself. They seemed a rare commodity in the days since the wedding.
He still was not sleeping well, the bedchamber as grand and luxurious as one might think, but it was unfamiliar. More unfamiliar still was the presence of a warm body sleeping next to him every night, and though he and Theodora seemed to be finding their way to getting along, it was still..odd. Kneading at what felt like an everpresent headache, the King looked up wearily as one of the palati servants entered and informed the Lady Ophelia od Condos was requesting an audience.
How he wished to say no. There had been nothing arranged; he was most sure of it - the palace staff were too good at shepherding him through his day of appointments and receptions as it was. He was tired and hadn’t yet stopped, but it would be considered a slight perhaps, and one he didn't intend if he were to send the Condos woman away. And so Achilleas sighed and gave a curt nod. “Very well. In the solar rooms though, perhaps the fresh air will be revitalising.”
With the servant gone to admit Lady Ophelia, Achilleas made his way to one of the many rooms that looked onto on the sweeping grounds of the palati. Open-sided, gauzy panels of fabric drifted between the stonework pillars, low levelled, less formal seating gathered around dark walnut tables. The new king took a moment to straighten his chiton, pushed aside his weariness and pasted on a smile as the herald announced his visitor.
Standing by one of the open portals to the gardens, the Mikaelidas could not fail to present an impressive presence, no matter than the blue eyes were shadowed and the welcoming smile a little strained at the edges. Allowing the young woman to make her greeting first, Achilleas’ gaze drifted momentarily to the offerings she brought before they fastened once more on Ophelia as she rose back to standing.
“Lady Ophelia, you are most welcome. And thank you, you are generous, and though there is no need, I assure you, I appreciate the thought.”
He gestured for one of the servants at the edge of the room to take receipt of the gifts before motioning for his guest to sit as he did so himself. Another servant was quick to offer watered wine, and Achilleas waited until Ophelia had been properly attended to before he spoke. “It is purely a social visit, my lady, or have you other business?” The truth of it was, Achilleas wasn’t sure how much more he could stand of people bringing their commiserations, or congratulations, or whatever strange mix of the two they inevitably decided to settle on. It made his face ache to raise so many bland smiles, and his chest hurt to have to swallow back the tightness in his throat each time he acknowledged people’s respects for his later Father. Perhaps, he prayed, this would not be another such visit.
Ever-perceptive as usual, Ophelia could not help but notice that the young king's smile was just a little worn at the edges, his cerulean eyes cast in subtle shadow. Bathed in the light of Apollo, he did indeed make a glorious vision. Golden rays poured in through the gauzy fabric, setting his features aglow. But the soft light of day only further highlighted to Ophelia the harsh realities of night. Clearly, their youthful ruler had not been sleeping well. Had he been denying himself sleep? Working long hours to prepare for a possible invasion? Perhaps he feared to sleep, lest he dream of his father collapsing to the ground, his heart stuttering to a dreadful halt, at what was supposed to be a happy occasion for all? Or was Stephanos the daimon that plagued his nightmares, silently stalking, waiting patiently in darkness to return and reclaim the throne? Was that what he feared? If it was one ambitious for the throne that shadowed his eyes, perhaps the culprit was her very own brother.
Alternatively, and she loathed to think of it, there was the chance that something else could be keeping him up at night: the touch of a woman, a Leventi's sweet caress. Whatever it was, it was clearly wearing on him. Perhaps today had not been the best to visit, but it was too late to make her exit now. She would simply have to do her best to cheer him.
"Truly, Your Grace, it is my pleasure to bring you these gifts," she responded humbly, making a quick little bow at the end of her sentence. "I know you probably receive many tokens, but I thought it only right I offer you something. I have known you for some time, after all. It seemed only appropriate."
She waited first first for the King to be seated before daintily folding herself into one of the low chairs, crossing her legs demurely at the ankles and folding her hands in her lap. She smiled gratefully at the servant who brought the watered wine, thanking them gently before their departure. "I recognize her," she explained. "Before she came to work at the Palati, I would occasionally bring fish for her to eat when she was having a particularly bad time," a soft blush coloured the noblewoman's cheeks as she realized that perhaps she had said too much. Not everybody enjoyed hearing of her endeavour to improve the lives of the lower classes. "I thank you for the wine, Your Grace, and for receiving me. I assure you, this is purely a social visit, though there is something I wished to say to you before we moved on to more pleasant topics...."
She took a deep breath, bravely meeting his sapphire eyes. Her own eyes were slightly wider than usual, not quite filled with panic but with a mild concern, not quite pleading but hopeful. "I understand that there has been slight discord between yourself and my family lately. I was very glad that you and my father were able to make amends yesterday, for I would never want there to be any enmity between our two houses. My brother can be foolish sometimes, but I know that he would never intentionally do you any serious harm, and I hope that you know that I am loyal to you. The ruler is the Gods' choice. Divinely appointed as you are, I have complete faith in you."
For a moment she held her breath, fearing both that she had said too much and too little. For a moment she lowered her eyes to the table, then fearing this might give the impression of insincerity, fastened them once more upon the face of the young Mikaelidas. Not daring to move a muscle, she waited for him to speak.
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Ever-perceptive as usual, Ophelia could not help but notice that the young king's smile was just a little worn at the edges, his cerulean eyes cast in subtle shadow. Bathed in the light of Apollo, he did indeed make a glorious vision. Golden rays poured in through the gauzy fabric, setting his features aglow. But the soft light of day only further highlighted to Ophelia the harsh realities of night. Clearly, their youthful ruler had not been sleeping well. Had he been denying himself sleep? Working long hours to prepare for a possible invasion? Perhaps he feared to sleep, lest he dream of his father collapsing to the ground, his heart stuttering to a dreadful halt, at what was supposed to be a happy occasion for all? Or was Stephanos the daimon that plagued his nightmares, silently stalking, waiting patiently in darkness to return and reclaim the throne? Was that what he feared? If it was one ambitious for the throne that shadowed his eyes, perhaps the culprit was her very own brother.
Alternatively, and she loathed to think of it, there was the chance that something else could be keeping him up at night: the touch of a woman, a Leventi's sweet caress. Whatever it was, it was clearly wearing on him. Perhaps today had not been the best to visit, but it was too late to make her exit now. She would simply have to do her best to cheer him.
"Truly, Your Grace, it is my pleasure to bring you these gifts," she responded humbly, making a quick little bow at the end of her sentence. "I know you probably receive many tokens, but I thought it only right I offer you something. I have known you for some time, after all. It seemed only appropriate."
She waited first first for the King to be seated before daintily folding herself into one of the low chairs, crossing her legs demurely at the ankles and folding her hands in her lap. She smiled gratefully at the servant who brought the watered wine, thanking them gently before their departure. "I recognize her," she explained. "Before she came to work at the Palati, I would occasionally bring fish for her to eat when she was having a particularly bad time," a soft blush coloured the noblewoman's cheeks as she realized that perhaps she had said too much. Not everybody enjoyed hearing of her endeavour to improve the lives of the lower classes. "I thank you for the wine, Your Grace, and for receiving me. I assure you, this is purely a social visit, though there is something I wished to say to you before we moved on to more pleasant topics...."
She took a deep breath, bravely meeting his sapphire eyes. Her own eyes were slightly wider than usual, not quite filled with panic but with a mild concern, not quite pleading but hopeful. "I understand that there has been slight discord between yourself and my family lately. I was very glad that you and my father were able to make amends yesterday, for I would never want there to be any enmity between our two houses. My brother can be foolish sometimes, but I know that he would never intentionally do you any serious harm, and I hope that you know that I am loyal to you. The ruler is the Gods' choice. Divinely appointed as you are, I have complete faith in you."
For a moment she held her breath, fearing both that she had said too much and too little. For a moment she lowered her eyes to the table, then fearing this might give the impression of insincerity, fastened them once more upon the face of the young Mikaelidas. Not daring to move a muscle, she waited for him to speak.
Ever-perceptive as usual, Ophelia could not help but notice that the young king's smile was just a little worn at the edges, his cerulean eyes cast in subtle shadow. Bathed in the light of Apollo, he did indeed make a glorious vision. Golden rays poured in through the gauzy fabric, setting his features aglow. But the soft light of day only further highlighted to Ophelia the harsh realities of night. Clearly, their youthful ruler had not been sleeping well. Had he been denying himself sleep? Working long hours to prepare for a possible invasion? Perhaps he feared to sleep, lest he dream of his father collapsing to the ground, his heart stuttering to a dreadful halt, at what was supposed to be a happy occasion for all? Or was Stephanos the daimon that plagued his nightmares, silently stalking, waiting patiently in darkness to return and reclaim the throne? Was that what he feared? If it was one ambitious for the throne that shadowed his eyes, perhaps the culprit was her very own brother.
Alternatively, and she loathed to think of it, there was the chance that something else could be keeping him up at night: the touch of a woman, a Leventi's sweet caress. Whatever it was, it was clearly wearing on him. Perhaps today had not been the best to visit, but it was too late to make her exit now. She would simply have to do her best to cheer him.
"Truly, Your Grace, it is my pleasure to bring you these gifts," she responded humbly, making a quick little bow at the end of her sentence. "I know you probably receive many tokens, but I thought it only right I offer you something. I have known you for some time, after all. It seemed only appropriate."
She waited first first for the King to be seated before daintily folding herself into one of the low chairs, crossing her legs demurely at the ankles and folding her hands in her lap. She smiled gratefully at the servant who brought the watered wine, thanking them gently before their departure. "I recognize her," she explained. "Before she came to work at the Palati, I would occasionally bring fish for her to eat when she was having a particularly bad time," a soft blush coloured the noblewoman's cheeks as she realized that perhaps she had said too much. Not everybody enjoyed hearing of her endeavour to improve the lives of the lower classes. "I thank you for the wine, Your Grace, and for receiving me. I assure you, this is purely a social visit, though there is something I wished to say to you before we moved on to more pleasant topics...."
She took a deep breath, bravely meeting his sapphire eyes. Her own eyes were slightly wider than usual, not quite filled with panic but with a mild concern, not quite pleading but hopeful. "I understand that there has been slight discord between yourself and my family lately. I was very glad that you and my father were able to make amends yesterday, for I would never want there to be any enmity between our two houses. My brother can be foolish sometimes, but I know that he would never intentionally do you any serious harm, and I hope that you know that I am loyal to you. The ruler is the Gods' choice. Divinely appointed as you are, I have complete faith in you."
For a moment she held her breath, fearing both that she had said too much and too little. For a moment she lowered her eyes to the table, then fearing this might give the impression of insincerity, fastened them once more upon the face of the young Mikaelidas. Not daring to move a muscle, she waited for him to speak.
If there was any surprise or an opinion held at how his guest interacted with the servant and her subsequent explanation, Achilleas was far too polite to let it show. He merely inclined his head in acknowledgement as he took a sip of wine and waited for the Condos lady to get on with what had brought her to see him this day. Though her words suggested a social intent earlier, he sensed that she was leading into something else, and sure enough, Lady Ophelia seemed to ready herself before she went on to address that unfortunate matter that her brother had brought about.
Quite honestly, Achilleas had been less than impressed at Lord Condos’ accounting, a meeting that had been far lighter in apology than he personally thought warranted, but he had decided then that he would draw a line under it. As King, he could not afford to nurture small personal affronts at the expense of a unified nobility. Surprised then that Lady Ophelia would choose to raise it once more, his expression remained carefully neutral as she made a far more graceful attempt at amends than her father had done.
When she dropped her gaze away, Achilleas realised that perhaps he was too impassive, and so gave a small sigh, softened his features so that by the time she looked back up at him, he was smiling slightly.
“It is done and forgotten,” he said because it needed to be. He hadn’t time to dwell on it, and he couldn’t afford ill-will between his house and hers. “Think no more on it, but I thank you, Lady Ophelia, for your kind words and your faith in me.”
It was particularly welcomed after the spectacle his Aunt had made of herself at the coronation. Achilleas knew to some degree that many people saw him as a tool to do his father’s bidding only, but it had been more than a little hurtful to have his Aunt publicly accuse him of having been part of his cousin’s downfall. It hadn’t been the first time such accusations had been levelled at his late father, and that was hard enough for him to accept, but to hear it said that he was guilty of the same? Even the recollection of it was enough to make the back of his neck prickle, and he broke away from Ophelia’s gaze and cleared his throat, redirecting the conversation because he did not want to discuss that shambles.
“Your Father had some concerns when he visited. I trust that they have been put to rest? These are trying times for us all, but the safety and continued prosperity of Taengea is my focus.”
Indeed it was one that would draw him away from Taengea’s shores rather sooner than he might have liked, away from Theodora sooner than he would wish. But Egypt was a threat that could not continue unhindered, and there was no time to wait for their Colchian and Athenian allies to make ready. “It will be important to keep people’s spirits raised here.” Achilleas went on, “After so much uncertainty, the populace is unsettled. I do not doubt that your efforts will help calm them and instil confidence, my lady.”
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If there was any surprise or an opinion held at how his guest interacted with the servant and her subsequent explanation, Achilleas was far too polite to let it show. He merely inclined his head in acknowledgement as he took a sip of wine and waited for the Condos lady to get on with what had brought her to see him this day. Though her words suggested a social intent earlier, he sensed that she was leading into something else, and sure enough, Lady Ophelia seemed to ready herself before she went on to address that unfortunate matter that her brother had brought about.
Quite honestly, Achilleas had been less than impressed at Lord Condos’ accounting, a meeting that had been far lighter in apology than he personally thought warranted, but he had decided then that he would draw a line under it. As King, he could not afford to nurture small personal affronts at the expense of a unified nobility. Surprised then that Lady Ophelia would choose to raise it once more, his expression remained carefully neutral as she made a far more graceful attempt at amends than her father had done.
When she dropped her gaze away, Achilleas realised that perhaps he was too impassive, and so gave a small sigh, softened his features so that by the time she looked back up at him, he was smiling slightly.
“It is done and forgotten,” he said because it needed to be. He hadn’t time to dwell on it, and he couldn’t afford ill-will between his house and hers. “Think no more on it, but I thank you, Lady Ophelia, for your kind words and your faith in me.”
It was particularly welcomed after the spectacle his Aunt had made of herself at the coronation. Achilleas knew to some degree that many people saw him as a tool to do his father’s bidding only, but it had been more than a little hurtful to have his Aunt publicly accuse him of having been part of his cousin’s downfall. It hadn’t been the first time such accusations had been levelled at his late father, and that was hard enough for him to accept, but to hear it said that he was guilty of the same? Even the recollection of it was enough to make the back of his neck prickle, and he broke away from Ophelia’s gaze and cleared his throat, redirecting the conversation because he did not want to discuss that shambles.
“Your Father had some concerns when he visited. I trust that they have been put to rest? These are trying times for us all, but the safety and continued prosperity of Taengea is my focus.”
Indeed it was one that would draw him away from Taengea’s shores rather sooner than he might have liked, away from Theodora sooner than he would wish. But Egypt was a threat that could not continue unhindered, and there was no time to wait for their Colchian and Athenian allies to make ready. “It will be important to keep people’s spirits raised here.” Achilleas went on, “After so much uncertainty, the populace is unsettled. I do not doubt that your efforts will help calm them and instil confidence, my lady.”
If there was any surprise or an opinion held at how his guest interacted with the servant and her subsequent explanation, Achilleas was far too polite to let it show. He merely inclined his head in acknowledgement as he took a sip of wine and waited for the Condos lady to get on with what had brought her to see him this day. Though her words suggested a social intent earlier, he sensed that she was leading into something else, and sure enough, Lady Ophelia seemed to ready herself before she went on to address that unfortunate matter that her brother had brought about.
Quite honestly, Achilleas had been less than impressed at Lord Condos’ accounting, a meeting that had been far lighter in apology than he personally thought warranted, but he had decided then that he would draw a line under it. As King, he could not afford to nurture small personal affronts at the expense of a unified nobility. Surprised then that Lady Ophelia would choose to raise it once more, his expression remained carefully neutral as she made a far more graceful attempt at amends than her father had done.
When she dropped her gaze away, Achilleas realised that perhaps he was too impassive, and so gave a small sigh, softened his features so that by the time she looked back up at him, he was smiling slightly.
“It is done and forgotten,” he said because it needed to be. He hadn’t time to dwell on it, and he couldn’t afford ill-will between his house and hers. “Think no more on it, but I thank you, Lady Ophelia, for your kind words and your faith in me.”
It was particularly welcomed after the spectacle his Aunt had made of herself at the coronation. Achilleas knew to some degree that many people saw him as a tool to do his father’s bidding only, but it had been more than a little hurtful to have his Aunt publicly accuse him of having been part of his cousin’s downfall. It hadn’t been the first time such accusations had been levelled at his late father, and that was hard enough for him to accept, but to hear it said that he was guilty of the same? Even the recollection of it was enough to make the back of his neck prickle, and he broke away from Ophelia’s gaze and cleared his throat, redirecting the conversation because he did not want to discuss that shambles.
“Your Father had some concerns when he visited. I trust that they have been put to rest? These are trying times for us all, but the safety and continued prosperity of Taengea is my focus.”
Indeed it was one that would draw him away from Taengea’s shores rather sooner than he might have liked, away from Theodora sooner than he would wish. But Egypt was a threat that could not continue unhindered, and there was no time to wait for their Colchian and Athenian allies to make ready. “It will be important to keep people’s spirits raised here.” Achilleas went on, “After so much uncertainty, the populace is unsettled. I do not doubt that your efforts will help calm them and instil confidence, my lady.”
When she raised her eyes, she was both relieved and pleasantly surprised to find that the King's expression had softened. A warm smile had replaced his stoic mask, filling her with relief. Knowing now that she had not angered, upset or in any way disconcerted him, she mustered the courage to return his smile, her lips quirking up at the corners.
'It is done and forgotten,' He assured her, instructing her to think no more on it. This, along with his gentle thanks for her apology, sent a wave of relief washing through her. She might have fallen to her knees right there and proclaimed him the most gracious king ever to sit the throne were she not renowned for her poise and propriety. Nevertheless, she did bow her head a little to show her appreciation, her smile broader, friendlier, less tentative when she raised it and met his eyes once more.
"You are very kind to be so understanding, Your Grace. Your generosity and wisdom is noted and appreciated by my family, and please rest assured that we have concerns, for we know that you shall always do what is best for every citizen of Taengea," she folded her hands delicately in her lap, meeting his eyes with a wide and earnest gaze. "These are indeed trying and troubling times for each and every one of us, but you may rest assured that we have faith in you. I certainly know that you would never act in a way you thought unbeneficial for the kingdom and its people. I hold faith in your great wisdom, Your Grace."
She took a delicate sip of watered wine, then placed the goblet down on the table before her, endeavour to make as little sound as possible while doing so. A flicker of surprise danced momentarily in her emerald eyes as his final statement reached her, the sound like music to her jewel-encrusted ears. A soft, modest blush crept across her porcelain cheeks, but she could not conceal the smile that blossomed at her lips like a rose in springtime bloom. "I thank you for your generous compliment, My King. I do all that I can to aid the people, as you may have heard, and would gladly do more if it would help. If ever I can be of any assistance to you, please do not hesitate to let me know. I care very much for the people of this kingdom too."
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When she raised her eyes, she was both relieved and pleasantly surprised to find that the King's expression had softened. A warm smile had replaced his stoic mask, filling her with relief. Knowing now that she had not angered, upset or in any way disconcerted him, she mustered the courage to return his smile, her lips quirking up at the corners.
'It is done and forgotten,' He assured her, instructing her to think no more on it. This, along with his gentle thanks for her apology, sent a wave of relief washing through her. She might have fallen to her knees right there and proclaimed him the most gracious king ever to sit the throne were she not renowned for her poise and propriety. Nevertheless, she did bow her head a little to show her appreciation, her smile broader, friendlier, less tentative when she raised it and met his eyes once more.
"You are very kind to be so understanding, Your Grace. Your generosity and wisdom is noted and appreciated by my family, and please rest assured that we have concerns, for we know that you shall always do what is best for every citizen of Taengea," she folded her hands delicately in her lap, meeting his eyes with a wide and earnest gaze. "These are indeed trying and troubling times for each and every one of us, but you may rest assured that we have faith in you. I certainly know that you would never act in a way you thought unbeneficial for the kingdom and its people. I hold faith in your great wisdom, Your Grace."
She took a delicate sip of watered wine, then placed the goblet down on the table before her, endeavour to make as little sound as possible while doing so. A flicker of surprise danced momentarily in her emerald eyes as his final statement reached her, the sound like music to her jewel-encrusted ears. A soft, modest blush crept across her porcelain cheeks, but she could not conceal the smile that blossomed at her lips like a rose in springtime bloom. "I thank you for your generous compliment, My King. I do all that I can to aid the people, as you may have heard, and would gladly do more if it would help. If ever I can be of any assistance to you, please do not hesitate to let me know. I care very much for the people of this kingdom too."
When she raised her eyes, she was both relieved and pleasantly surprised to find that the King's expression had softened. A warm smile had replaced his stoic mask, filling her with relief. Knowing now that she had not angered, upset or in any way disconcerted him, she mustered the courage to return his smile, her lips quirking up at the corners.
'It is done and forgotten,' He assured her, instructing her to think no more on it. This, along with his gentle thanks for her apology, sent a wave of relief washing through her. She might have fallen to her knees right there and proclaimed him the most gracious king ever to sit the throne were she not renowned for her poise and propriety. Nevertheless, she did bow her head a little to show her appreciation, her smile broader, friendlier, less tentative when she raised it and met his eyes once more.
"You are very kind to be so understanding, Your Grace. Your generosity and wisdom is noted and appreciated by my family, and please rest assured that we have concerns, for we know that you shall always do what is best for every citizen of Taengea," she folded her hands delicately in her lap, meeting his eyes with a wide and earnest gaze. "These are indeed trying and troubling times for each and every one of us, but you may rest assured that we have faith in you. I certainly know that you would never act in a way you thought unbeneficial for the kingdom and its people. I hold faith in your great wisdom, Your Grace."
She took a delicate sip of watered wine, then placed the goblet down on the table before her, endeavour to make as little sound as possible while doing so. A flicker of surprise danced momentarily in her emerald eyes as his final statement reached her, the sound like music to her jewel-encrusted ears. A soft, modest blush crept across her porcelain cheeks, but she could not conceal the smile that blossomed at her lips like a rose in springtime bloom. "I thank you for your generous compliment, My King. I do all that I can to aid the people, as you may have heard, and would gladly do more if it would help. If ever I can be of any assistance to you, please do not hesitate to let me know. I care very much for the people of this kingdom too."
Achilleas was glad to see the tension leave the Condos woman as he assured her there was no ill-feeling remaining. He didn’t have the energy or the time to waste pacifying people, much as his natural inclination was to want everyone contented and happy. He gave a small dip of his head as she responded. She was more careful in her words than her father, at least. Still, her turn of phrase had his mind skittering back to his father’s admonishments when he had refused to vote to oust his cousin. Irakles had said Achilleas’ actions driven by the want to protect his own interests rather than those of the wider kingdom. It stung still, remembering his words, even though the new king stood by his actions.
Stephanos had barely been given a chance to prove himself a worthy king, and Achilleas firmly believed that he would have stepped up. His cousin could be wild, yes, but he was no fool. He had not risen to become General through solely his name, after all. Not that it mattered now...not with Stephanos far away, his father dead and Achilleas uneasily occupying the space left behind.
“Your vote of confidence is welcomed, Lady Ophelia. I will do my utmost not to let you down.”
That much he could say without a doubt. It was as much part of the Mikaelidas man as his own teeth and bones, the desire to succeed and the reluctance to see the disappointment on others' faces. He could not control the fates or others' actions, but Achilleas could decide on his own actions, and he would give this his all.
It cost him nothing either to offer a few words of encouragement to the young woman before him, so the new King did just that. He’d decided very on in his military career that he would rather see people succeed through gentle encouragement as opposed to harsh criticism. Perhaps it came of being on the receiving end of the latter so often himself. And if the people were to be content, then the nobility would have to be too. He barely had time to do much of the charming and securing of allies that he knew was necessary - a relief for a man who didn't much enjoy it - but he would take an opportunity when it presented itself.
“I believe you need only keep doing what you already do, my lady. It has been such a changeable time, and the people of Taengea will be looking to us to assure them that things are well. Hush gossip that stirs up fear...keep people happy. I don’t doubt you know what you are doing in that respect.”
He wondered at how one so earnest seeming as Ophelia could have sprung from the same well as Nikos, whose every word the Mikaelidas man felt ought to be examined for deceit or double meaning. “My brother will be running things in my stead. He will appreciate your support. I am certain.”
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Achilleas was glad to see the tension leave the Condos woman as he assured her there was no ill-feeling remaining. He didn’t have the energy or the time to waste pacifying people, much as his natural inclination was to want everyone contented and happy. He gave a small dip of his head as she responded. She was more careful in her words than her father, at least. Still, her turn of phrase had his mind skittering back to his father’s admonishments when he had refused to vote to oust his cousin. Irakles had said Achilleas’ actions driven by the want to protect his own interests rather than those of the wider kingdom. It stung still, remembering his words, even though the new king stood by his actions.
Stephanos had barely been given a chance to prove himself a worthy king, and Achilleas firmly believed that he would have stepped up. His cousin could be wild, yes, but he was no fool. He had not risen to become General through solely his name, after all. Not that it mattered now...not with Stephanos far away, his father dead and Achilleas uneasily occupying the space left behind.
“Your vote of confidence is welcomed, Lady Ophelia. I will do my utmost not to let you down.”
That much he could say without a doubt. It was as much part of the Mikaelidas man as his own teeth and bones, the desire to succeed and the reluctance to see the disappointment on others' faces. He could not control the fates or others' actions, but Achilleas could decide on his own actions, and he would give this his all.
It cost him nothing either to offer a few words of encouragement to the young woman before him, so the new King did just that. He’d decided very on in his military career that he would rather see people succeed through gentle encouragement as opposed to harsh criticism. Perhaps it came of being on the receiving end of the latter so often himself. And if the people were to be content, then the nobility would have to be too. He barely had time to do much of the charming and securing of allies that he knew was necessary - a relief for a man who didn't much enjoy it - but he would take an opportunity when it presented itself.
“I believe you need only keep doing what you already do, my lady. It has been such a changeable time, and the people of Taengea will be looking to us to assure them that things are well. Hush gossip that stirs up fear...keep people happy. I don’t doubt you know what you are doing in that respect.”
He wondered at how one so earnest seeming as Ophelia could have sprung from the same well as Nikos, whose every word the Mikaelidas man felt ought to be examined for deceit or double meaning. “My brother will be running things in my stead. He will appreciate your support. I am certain.”
Achilleas was glad to see the tension leave the Condos woman as he assured her there was no ill-feeling remaining. He didn’t have the energy or the time to waste pacifying people, much as his natural inclination was to want everyone contented and happy. He gave a small dip of his head as she responded. She was more careful in her words than her father, at least. Still, her turn of phrase had his mind skittering back to his father’s admonishments when he had refused to vote to oust his cousin. Irakles had said Achilleas’ actions driven by the want to protect his own interests rather than those of the wider kingdom. It stung still, remembering his words, even though the new king stood by his actions.
Stephanos had barely been given a chance to prove himself a worthy king, and Achilleas firmly believed that he would have stepped up. His cousin could be wild, yes, but he was no fool. He had not risen to become General through solely his name, after all. Not that it mattered now...not with Stephanos far away, his father dead and Achilleas uneasily occupying the space left behind.
“Your vote of confidence is welcomed, Lady Ophelia. I will do my utmost not to let you down.”
That much he could say without a doubt. It was as much part of the Mikaelidas man as his own teeth and bones, the desire to succeed and the reluctance to see the disappointment on others' faces. He could not control the fates or others' actions, but Achilleas could decide on his own actions, and he would give this his all.
It cost him nothing either to offer a few words of encouragement to the young woman before him, so the new King did just that. He’d decided very on in his military career that he would rather see people succeed through gentle encouragement as opposed to harsh criticism. Perhaps it came of being on the receiving end of the latter so often himself. And if the people were to be content, then the nobility would have to be too. He barely had time to do much of the charming and securing of allies that he knew was necessary - a relief for a man who didn't much enjoy it - but he would take an opportunity when it presented itself.
“I believe you need only keep doing what you already do, my lady. It has been such a changeable time, and the people of Taengea will be looking to us to assure them that things are well. Hush gossip that stirs up fear...keep people happy. I don’t doubt you know what you are doing in that respect.”
He wondered at how one so earnest seeming as Ophelia could have sprung from the same well as Nikos, whose every word the Mikaelidas man felt ought to be examined for deceit or double meaning. “My brother will be running things in my stead. He will appreciate your support. I am certain.”
Achileas had gone silent once again. Had she made him uncomfortable? Said something she ought not to have said? Conversations with Achileas were always so nerve-wracking. He was like a pool of still water: eternally placid. At least, that was how he seemed to her. If ever there were any ripples, she never saw them. She knew only stoic Achileas and smiling Achileas. She often wondered which, if either, was the real Achileas. She was transparent. Though careful with her words, she spoke only the truth. She knew that this was not the case for most others. For one reason or another, they rarely said what they were actually thinking.
When he did speak, his words were precisely what one would expect. This was not a bad thing, however. They were true to him, and this brought a smile to her face. IF there was one thing Achileas was known for, it was his dislike of letting other people down. She supposed that was why he was so diligent in his work.
"I thank you, Your Grace, but I have no doubt that you will be a great leader to us all," she assured him once again.
His next words to her were gentle and encouraging. She listened attentively, inclining her head in a nod of understanding. She would gladly do what he had asked of her -- she would have done more if he had asked that -- for she loved the kingdom and its people and wanted nothing more than to see it continue to proper.
"I shall continue to do all that I can, Your Grace, you have my solemn oath as both a subject and, I hope, a friend," at this, she offered a shy, tentative smile, momentarily dropping her eyes once more. "Gossip will be our biggest concern. It spreads like wildfire in Taengea, but I shall keep my eyes and ears open, and you have my solemn oath that I shall endeavour to keep both the nobles and the lower classes happy."
Ophelia's eyes lit up with glee at his next words. The fact that that his brother might actually call upon her for assistance sent her heart fluttering into a frenzy of excitement. "I am at his service, should he require it," she replied with genuine humility. "Please let him know that he can feel free to call upon me for assistance whenever he may need it. And I do hope you will not think me too forward if I request permission to say a prayer tomorrow for your safe return to us?"
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Achileas had gone silent once again. Had she made him uncomfortable? Said something she ought not to have said? Conversations with Achileas were always so nerve-wracking. He was like a pool of still water: eternally placid. At least, that was how he seemed to her. If ever there were any ripples, she never saw them. She knew only stoic Achileas and smiling Achileas. She often wondered which, if either, was the real Achileas. She was transparent. Though careful with her words, she spoke only the truth. She knew that this was not the case for most others. For one reason or another, they rarely said what they were actually thinking.
When he did speak, his words were precisely what one would expect. This was not a bad thing, however. They were true to him, and this brought a smile to her face. IF there was one thing Achileas was known for, it was his dislike of letting other people down. She supposed that was why he was so diligent in his work.
"I thank you, Your Grace, but I have no doubt that you will be a great leader to us all," she assured him once again.
His next words to her were gentle and encouraging. She listened attentively, inclining her head in a nod of understanding. She would gladly do what he had asked of her -- she would have done more if he had asked that -- for she loved the kingdom and its people and wanted nothing more than to see it continue to proper.
"I shall continue to do all that I can, Your Grace, you have my solemn oath as both a subject and, I hope, a friend," at this, she offered a shy, tentative smile, momentarily dropping her eyes once more. "Gossip will be our biggest concern. It spreads like wildfire in Taengea, but I shall keep my eyes and ears open, and you have my solemn oath that I shall endeavour to keep both the nobles and the lower classes happy."
Ophelia's eyes lit up with glee at his next words. The fact that that his brother might actually call upon her for assistance sent her heart fluttering into a frenzy of excitement. "I am at his service, should he require it," she replied with genuine humility. "Please let him know that he can feel free to call upon me for assistance whenever he may need it. And I do hope you will not think me too forward if I request permission to say a prayer tomorrow for your safe return to us?"
Achileas had gone silent once again. Had she made him uncomfortable? Said something she ought not to have said? Conversations with Achileas were always so nerve-wracking. He was like a pool of still water: eternally placid. At least, that was how he seemed to her. If ever there were any ripples, she never saw them. She knew only stoic Achileas and smiling Achileas. She often wondered which, if either, was the real Achileas. She was transparent. Though careful with her words, she spoke only the truth. She knew that this was not the case for most others. For one reason or another, they rarely said what they were actually thinking.
When he did speak, his words were precisely what one would expect. This was not a bad thing, however. They were true to him, and this brought a smile to her face. IF there was one thing Achileas was known for, it was his dislike of letting other people down. She supposed that was why he was so diligent in his work.
"I thank you, Your Grace, but I have no doubt that you will be a great leader to us all," she assured him once again.
His next words to her were gentle and encouraging. She listened attentively, inclining her head in a nod of understanding. She would gladly do what he had asked of her -- she would have done more if he had asked that -- for she loved the kingdom and its people and wanted nothing more than to see it continue to proper.
"I shall continue to do all that I can, Your Grace, you have my solemn oath as both a subject and, I hope, a friend," at this, she offered a shy, tentative smile, momentarily dropping her eyes once more. "Gossip will be our biggest concern. It spreads like wildfire in Taengea, but I shall keep my eyes and ears open, and you have my solemn oath that I shall endeavour to keep both the nobles and the lower classes happy."
Ophelia's eyes lit up with glee at his next words. The fact that that his brother might actually call upon her for assistance sent her heart fluttering into a frenzy of excitement. "I am at his service, should he require it," she replied with genuine humility. "Please let him know that he can feel free to call upon me for assistance whenever he may need it. And I do hope you will not think me too forward if I request permission to say a prayer tomorrow for your safe return to us?"
Achilleas wanted to find the comfort in her words that she surely intended, but it wasn't easy. He would do his best, without a doubt, but he had come to see how his judgement in some things might not have been the clearest. Whatever his complicated relationship with his father might have been, Achilleas had - for the most part - believed the man when he claimed his intentions were what was best for Taengea. The past weeks had revealed to the young king that perhaps what he had turned a blind eye to was quite the extent his father was willing to go to to ensure his vision of ‘best’ was brought to fruition.
Achilleas could be a stubborn man, and gods knew he had never been able to shake off the almost childlike urge to win his father’s approval finally, but he was not so dumb that the words of so many others could roll off his back. Stephanos, Theodora, even Emilios seemed only too willing to believe that Irakles had a hand in setting his cousin up, in manoeuvring himself onto the throne, and the knowledge of that had shaken the man sitting before Ophelia now. If Achilleas had not seen that, then what else might he have missed? What else had he been blind to?
The thought kept him awake at night and painted the vivid shadows beneath his eyes now, but still, he summoned a smile for the woman who had come to offer her fealty to him and his rule. Achilleas had many acquaintances; he was unfailingly polite and amenable to those he dealt with in court and senate and generally well-liked. But he did not count many as friends. There were scarce few he trusted well enough to be anything other than the perfect son and heir in front of, and whilst he gave a nod and that same well-practised smile to the Condos woman, she was not counted in that number. His dislike for her brother was almost enough to guarantee it would always remain so.
“It is not a responsibility you bear alone, thankfully.” he replied, catching her eye and lifting one dark brow, for he had not meant to overburden her with the notion that such was her task alone. “But with an allied effort, I hope we can all offer some stability to Taengea.”
She might be a useful ally for Emilios to have though, he supposed, and Lady Ophelia’s words certainly suggested she would be glad to assist him if it were required. Achilleas gave a nod and then looked a little embarrassed at her offer to pray for him.
“Your prayers will be welcomed,” he said, his gaze dropping away from her face and down to look at his hands that still cradled his wine. There was no certainty in war, even if this first mission did not seek to engage in combat actively. And whilst Achilleas was aware of the whispers, of the suggestion that he might already have caught the favour of the Gods, he did not let it make him blind to his own fallibility. Perhaps it was the recent reminder of mortality in his father’s crossing the river that he was King or the fact that he had Theodora to leave behind this time. Still, Achilleas was finding the thought of his sailing more of a burden than he had expected. He would be making his own prayers, undoubtedly.
“If the Gods are smiling on us, then I should return within a month or so, no longer.” Really that was not so long for him to be away, a fact he had used to offset the worry he’d felt after hearing from both Lady Ophelia’s father and Lord Diogenes that he would prefer if he were not to sail. But then, being a leader was not to make easy decisions, after all.
Achilleas took a small sip of the watered wine and was quiet a few moments then. It had been a long morning already, and small talk was a hard thing to come by when dealing with such matters as war and bereavement. He wished almost that Theodora might make an appearance and take some of the pressure off him in his this engagement, but she did not, of course. Instead, it was a servant that appeared, setting down a platter of fruit and sweet pastries that the King’s visitor might enjoy. Achilleas himself declined, but he did wave a hand for Ophelia to go ahead. “There is always someone trying to feed me here,” he said with a bemused smile. “I am quite surprised our Kings have not all been as fat and round as hogs” Not that anyone could level such a description at the man before her, but Achilleas could imagine if he had more of an appetite and trained less, it could quickly become different.
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Achilleas wanted to find the comfort in her words that she surely intended, but it wasn't easy. He would do his best, without a doubt, but he had come to see how his judgement in some things might not have been the clearest. Whatever his complicated relationship with his father might have been, Achilleas had - for the most part - believed the man when he claimed his intentions were what was best for Taengea. The past weeks had revealed to the young king that perhaps what he had turned a blind eye to was quite the extent his father was willing to go to to ensure his vision of ‘best’ was brought to fruition.
Achilleas could be a stubborn man, and gods knew he had never been able to shake off the almost childlike urge to win his father’s approval finally, but he was not so dumb that the words of so many others could roll off his back. Stephanos, Theodora, even Emilios seemed only too willing to believe that Irakles had a hand in setting his cousin up, in manoeuvring himself onto the throne, and the knowledge of that had shaken the man sitting before Ophelia now. If Achilleas had not seen that, then what else might he have missed? What else had he been blind to?
The thought kept him awake at night and painted the vivid shadows beneath his eyes now, but still, he summoned a smile for the woman who had come to offer her fealty to him and his rule. Achilleas had many acquaintances; he was unfailingly polite and amenable to those he dealt with in court and senate and generally well-liked. But he did not count many as friends. There were scarce few he trusted well enough to be anything other than the perfect son and heir in front of, and whilst he gave a nod and that same well-practised smile to the Condos woman, she was not counted in that number. His dislike for her brother was almost enough to guarantee it would always remain so.
“It is not a responsibility you bear alone, thankfully.” he replied, catching her eye and lifting one dark brow, for he had not meant to overburden her with the notion that such was her task alone. “But with an allied effort, I hope we can all offer some stability to Taengea.”
She might be a useful ally for Emilios to have though, he supposed, and Lady Ophelia’s words certainly suggested she would be glad to assist him if it were required. Achilleas gave a nod and then looked a little embarrassed at her offer to pray for him.
“Your prayers will be welcomed,” he said, his gaze dropping away from her face and down to look at his hands that still cradled his wine. There was no certainty in war, even if this first mission did not seek to engage in combat actively. And whilst Achilleas was aware of the whispers, of the suggestion that he might already have caught the favour of the Gods, he did not let it make him blind to his own fallibility. Perhaps it was the recent reminder of mortality in his father’s crossing the river that he was King or the fact that he had Theodora to leave behind this time. Still, Achilleas was finding the thought of his sailing more of a burden than he had expected. He would be making his own prayers, undoubtedly.
“If the Gods are smiling on us, then I should return within a month or so, no longer.” Really that was not so long for him to be away, a fact he had used to offset the worry he’d felt after hearing from both Lady Ophelia’s father and Lord Diogenes that he would prefer if he were not to sail. But then, being a leader was not to make easy decisions, after all.
Achilleas took a small sip of the watered wine and was quiet a few moments then. It had been a long morning already, and small talk was a hard thing to come by when dealing with such matters as war and bereavement. He wished almost that Theodora might make an appearance and take some of the pressure off him in his this engagement, but she did not, of course. Instead, it was a servant that appeared, setting down a platter of fruit and sweet pastries that the King’s visitor might enjoy. Achilleas himself declined, but he did wave a hand for Ophelia to go ahead. “There is always someone trying to feed me here,” he said with a bemused smile. “I am quite surprised our Kings have not all been as fat and round as hogs” Not that anyone could level such a description at the man before her, but Achilleas could imagine if he had more of an appetite and trained less, it could quickly become different.
Achilleas wanted to find the comfort in her words that she surely intended, but it wasn't easy. He would do his best, without a doubt, but he had come to see how his judgement in some things might not have been the clearest. Whatever his complicated relationship with his father might have been, Achilleas had - for the most part - believed the man when he claimed his intentions were what was best for Taengea. The past weeks had revealed to the young king that perhaps what he had turned a blind eye to was quite the extent his father was willing to go to to ensure his vision of ‘best’ was brought to fruition.
Achilleas could be a stubborn man, and gods knew he had never been able to shake off the almost childlike urge to win his father’s approval finally, but he was not so dumb that the words of so many others could roll off his back. Stephanos, Theodora, even Emilios seemed only too willing to believe that Irakles had a hand in setting his cousin up, in manoeuvring himself onto the throne, and the knowledge of that had shaken the man sitting before Ophelia now. If Achilleas had not seen that, then what else might he have missed? What else had he been blind to?
The thought kept him awake at night and painted the vivid shadows beneath his eyes now, but still, he summoned a smile for the woman who had come to offer her fealty to him and his rule. Achilleas had many acquaintances; he was unfailingly polite and amenable to those he dealt with in court and senate and generally well-liked. But he did not count many as friends. There were scarce few he trusted well enough to be anything other than the perfect son and heir in front of, and whilst he gave a nod and that same well-practised smile to the Condos woman, she was not counted in that number. His dislike for her brother was almost enough to guarantee it would always remain so.
“It is not a responsibility you bear alone, thankfully.” he replied, catching her eye and lifting one dark brow, for he had not meant to overburden her with the notion that such was her task alone. “But with an allied effort, I hope we can all offer some stability to Taengea.”
She might be a useful ally for Emilios to have though, he supposed, and Lady Ophelia’s words certainly suggested she would be glad to assist him if it were required. Achilleas gave a nod and then looked a little embarrassed at her offer to pray for him.
“Your prayers will be welcomed,” he said, his gaze dropping away from her face and down to look at his hands that still cradled his wine. There was no certainty in war, even if this first mission did not seek to engage in combat actively. And whilst Achilleas was aware of the whispers, of the suggestion that he might already have caught the favour of the Gods, he did not let it make him blind to his own fallibility. Perhaps it was the recent reminder of mortality in his father’s crossing the river that he was King or the fact that he had Theodora to leave behind this time. Still, Achilleas was finding the thought of his sailing more of a burden than he had expected. He would be making his own prayers, undoubtedly.
“If the Gods are smiling on us, then I should return within a month or so, no longer.” Really that was not so long for him to be away, a fact he had used to offset the worry he’d felt after hearing from both Lady Ophelia’s father and Lord Diogenes that he would prefer if he were not to sail. But then, being a leader was not to make easy decisions, after all.
Achilleas took a small sip of the watered wine and was quiet a few moments then. It had been a long morning already, and small talk was a hard thing to come by when dealing with such matters as war and bereavement. He wished almost that Theodora might make an appearance and take some of the pressure off him in his this engagement, but she did not, of course. Instead, it was a servant that appeared, setting down a platter of fruit and sweet pastries that the King’s visitor might enjoy. Achilleas himself declined, but he did wave a hand for Ophelia to go ahead. “There is always someone trying to feed me here,” he said with a bemused smile. “I am quite surprised our Kings have not all been as fat and round as hogs” Not that anyone could level such a description at the man before her, but Achilleas could imagine if he had more of an appetite and trained less, it could quickly become different.
Once more he had fallen into silent contemplation, though precisely what he was contemplating she knew not. But again, that troubled expression passed briefly over his face, darkening his countenance for only an instant. If she had dared to blink she might have missed it, for no sooner had it come than it had gone, his courtly smile returning. Was it worry over Stephanos that shadowed those soul-piercing eyes? Fear for the kingdom, perhaps, and how it would fare while he was away? Mayhaps he dreaded that he would not return as so many who had gone before him had not. Or was it simply the mantle of responsibility that weighed the young king down? Was the crown too heavy for his head?
She knew not, though she dearly longed to find out: not for any benefit of her own, but so that she could think of some way to better assist her cousin. Deep down, though, she knew that he was highly unlikely to confide in her. He trusted her not and who could blame him? After all, no secret was made of the fact that there was little love between him and Nikos.
When the King did speak, it was in that formal but amiable nature she had come to know well and admire greatly. She smiled softly at his words, dipping her head in a courteous nod. "Indeed, we must all come together now more than ever for the sake of our dear citizens. Rest assured, they will be in safe hands with us. I cannot think of a single noble family who would not be willing to go above and beyond to protect our great kingdom while you are away, Your Grace." Even the Leventi's would do their part, she knew that. They had no wish to see Taengea fall. The other nobles' motives might be more selfish than hers, but they would still do all that they could to see that taengea remained a strong and steady kingdom, of this she had no doubt. And a strong kingdom needed strong citizens, noble and ignorable alike.
Why, was that embarrassment she saw flickering briefly in his eyes? She knew not why it was there, but the brief tinge of emotion that shattered his impersonal mask sent a flood of warmth to her heart. She truly did care for her cousin and she wanted him to know that. Perhaps one day he would. Perhaps one day he would realize that although she was loyal to her family, they did stand apart in several things. Unlike Nikos, she had no quarrel with him. She simply wanted his respect, his friendship, perhaps even familial love. She knew that it would take her a long time to earn such a thing if ever she did, but she was determined not to lose hope.
This time, it was his turn to drop his gaze. She watched his eyes settle upon his wine and once more hers were drawn to the shadows beneath them. She wanted so desperately to help. Perhaps she could send him an anonymous gift. A herbal concoction for dreamless sleep? An amulet for stress relief he could secretly tuck beneath his chitton? but would gifts from an anonymous sender be passed on to the king, or deemed a danger to his security? She could risk signing her name to them and hope he did not take offense, but what if he did? Decisions, decisions...
"I do hope the Gods smile upon us all, then, and return you safely to your loyal and devoted subjects, and to a cousin who will wait most eagerly for news of you," her words were sincere, her tone demure. "I shall pray each day that you are at sea to Poseidon, and each day that you are at war to Ares, and soon you will return victorious to Taengea and all shall rejoice," she promised him. "I have no doubt that my prayers will not be the only ones, Your Grace. I am only one of your many supporters."
As the tray of delectable treats was brought in and set before them, Ophelia's eyes glowed with delight. She could already spot some of her favourites, but she dared not touch a single thing, instead looking to Achileas. He seemed not to be hungry, but he granted his silent permission for her to sample the delicacies, probably having seen her expression. She reached out with one statuesque hand and plucked a fig soaked in honey from the tray, carefully chewing and silently swallowing. Achileas's comment was so surprisingly amusing that she let out a peel of laughter, the sound ringing like wind chimes through the air. Mirth flushed her cheeks a light pink and brought a sparkle to her eyes. "Nobody could ever level such an accusation as you!" she teased lightly. "Look at you! The day you ever grow as round and fat as a hog is the day my brother renounces women and swears himself to the service of the Goddess Artemis," giggling softly, she reached for a grape, snapping it from its stem before continuing. "Still, there must have been at least one hog-king in Taengea's history. I mean, with food as delicious as this? How could there not be?"
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Once more he had fallen into silent contemplation, though precisely what he was contemplating she knew not. But again, that troubled expression passed briefly over his face, darkening his countenance for only an instant. If she had dared to blink she might have missed it, for no sooner had it come than it had gone, his courtly smile returning. Was it worry over Stephanos that shadowed those soul-piercing eyes? Fear for the kingdom, perhaps, and how it would fare while he was away? Mayhaps he dreaded that he would not return as so many who had gone before him had not. Or was it simply the mantle of responsibility that weighed the young king down? Was the crown too heavy for his head?
She knew not, though she dearly longed to find out: not for any benefit of her own, but so that she could think of some way to better assist her cousin. Deep down, though, she knew that he was highly unlikely to confide in her. He trusted her not and who could blame him? After all, no secret was made of the fact that there was little love between him and Nikos.
When the King did speak, it was in that formal but amiable nature she had come to know well and admire greatly. She smiled softly at his words, dipping her head in a courteous nod. "Indeed, we must all come together now more than ever for the sake of our dear citizens. Rest assured, they will be in safe hands with us. I cannot think of a single noble family who would not be willing to go above and beyond to protect our great kingdom while you are away, Your Grace." Even the Leventi's would do their part, she knew that. They had no wish to see Taengea fall. The other nobles' motives might be more selfish than hers, but they would still do all that they could to see that taengea remained a strong and steady kingdom, of this she had no doubt. And a strong kingdom needed strong citizens, noble and ignorable alike.
Why, was that embarrassment she saw flickering briefly in his eyes? She knew not why it was there, but the brief tinge of emotion that shattered his impersonal mask sent a flood of warmth to her heart. She truly did care for her cousin and she wanted him to know that. Perhaps one day he would. Perhaps one day he would realize that although she was loyal to her family, they did stand apart in several things. Unlike Nikos, she had no quarrel with him. She simply wanted his respect, his friendship, perhaps even familial love. She knew that it would take her a long time to earn such a thing if ever she did, but she was determined not to lose hope.
This time, it was his turn to drop his gaze. She watched his eyes settle upon his wine and once more hers were drawn to the shadows beneath them. She wanted so desperately to help. Perhaps she could send him an anonymous gift. A herbal concoction for dreamless sleep? An amulet for stress relief he could secretly tuck beneath his chitton? but would gifts from an anonymous sender be passed on to the king, or deemed a danger to his security? She could risk signing her name to them and hope he did not take offense, but what if he did? Decisions, decisions...
"I do hope the Gods smile upon us all, then, and return you safely to your loyal and devoted subjects, and to a cousin who will wait most eagerly for news of you," her words were sincere, her tone demure. "I shall pray each day that you are at sea to Poseidon, and each day that you are at war to Ares, and soon you will return victorious to Taengea and all shall rejoice," she promised him. "I have no doubt that my prayers will not be the only ones, Your Grace. I am only one of your many supporters."
As the tray of delectable treats was brought in and set before them, Ophelia's eyes glowed with delight. She could already spot some of her favourites, but she dared not touch a single thing, instead looking to Achileas. He seemed not to be hungry, but he granted his silent permission for her to sample the delicacies, probably having seen her expression. She reached out with one statuesque hand and plucked a fig soaked in honey from the tray, carefully chewing and silently swallowing. Achileas's comment was so surprisingly amusing that she let out a peel of laughter, the sound ringing like wind chimes through the air. Mirth flushed her cheeks a light pink and brought a sparkle to her eyes. "Nobody could ever level such an accusation as you!" she teased lightly. "Look at you! The day you ever grow as round and fat as a hog is the day my brother renounces women and swears himself to the service of the Goddess Artemis," giggling softly, she reached for a grape, snapping it from its stem before continuing. "Still, there must have been at least one hog-king in Taengea's history. I mean, with food as delicious as this? How could there not be?"
Once more he had fallen into silent contemplation, though precisely what he was contemplating she knew not. But again, that troubled expression passed briefly over his face, darkening his countenance for only an instant. If she had dared to blink she might have missed it, for no sooner had it come than it had gone, his courtly smile returning. Was it worry over Stephanos that shadowed those soul-piercing eyes? Fear for the kingdom, perhaps, and how it would fare while he was away? Mayhaps he dreaded that he would not return as so many who had gone before him had not. Or was it simply the mantle of responsibility that weighed the young king down? Was the crown too heavy for his head?
She knew not, though she dearly longed to find out: not for any benefit of her own, but so that she could think of some way to better assist her cousin. Deep down, though, she knew that he was highly unlikely to confide in her. He trusted her not and who could blame him? After all, no secret was made of the fact that there was little love between him and Nikos.
When the King did speak, it was in that formal but amiable nature she had come to know well and admire greatly. She smiled softly at his words, dipping her head in a courteous nod. "Indeed, we must all come together now more than ever for the sake of our dear citizens. Rest assured, they will be in safe hands with us. I cannot think of a single noble family who would not be willing to go above and beyond to protect our great kingdom while you are away, Your Grace." Even the Leventi's would do their part, she knew that. They had no wish to see Taengea fall. The other nobles' motives might be more selfish than hers, but they would still do all that they could to see that taengea remained a strong and steady kingdom, of this she had no doubt. And a strong kingdom needed strong citizens, noble and ignorable alike.
Why, was that embarrassment she saw flickering briefly in his eyes? She knew not why it was there, but the brief tinge of emotion that shattered his impersonal mask sent a flood of warmth to her heart. She truly did care for her cousin and she wanted him to know that. Perhaps one day he would. Perhaps one day he would realize that although she was loyal to her family, they did stand apart in several things. Unlike Nikos, she had no quarrel with him. She simply wanted his respect, his friendship, perhaps even familial love. She knew that it would take her a long time to earn such a thing if ever she did, but she was determined not to lose hope.
This time, it was his turn to drop his gaze. She watched his eyes settle upon his wine and once more hers were drawn to the shadows beneath them. She wanted so desperately to help. Perhaps she could send him an anonymous gift. A herbal concoction for dreamless sleep? An amulet for stress relief he could secretly tuck beneath his chitton? but would gifts from an anonymous sender be passed on to the king, or deemed a danger to his security? She could risk signing her name to them and hope he did not take offense, but what if he did? Decisions, decisions...
"I do hope the Gods smile upon us all, then, and return you safely to your loyal and devoted subjects, and to a cousin who will wait most eagerly for news of you," her words were sincere, her tone demure. "I shall pray each day that you are at sea to Poseidon, and each day that you are at war to Ares, and soon you will return victorious to Taengea and all shall rejoice," she promised him. "I have no doubt that my prayers will not be the only ones, Your Grace. I am only one of your many supporters."
As the tray of delectable treats was brought in and set before them, Ophelia's eyes glowed with delight. She could already spot some of her favourites, but she dared not touch a single thing, instead looking to Achileas. He seemed not to be hungry, but he granted his silent permission for her to sample the delicacies, probably having seen her expression. She reached out with one statuesque hand and plucked a fig soaked in honey from the tray, carefully chewing and silently swallowing. Achileas's comment was so surprisingly amusing that she let out a peel of laughter, the sound ringing like wind chimes through the air. Mirth flushed her cheeks a light pink and brought a sparkle to her eyes. "Nobody could ever level such an accusation as you!" she teased lightly. "Look at you! The day you ever grow as round and fat as a hog is the day my brother renounces women and swears himself to the service of the Goddess Artemis," giggling softly, she reached for a grape, snapping it from its stem before continuing. "Still, there must have been at least one hog-king in Taengea's history. I mean, with food as delicious as this? How could there not be?"
