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It was the crack of dawn and already there were a slew of handmaidens bustling about her private quarters in a bustle of excitement that had done little to rouse her from her slumber of blissful ignorance. It was her first trip to the courts, her father refused to let her forget not that she cared much for his orders made abundantly clear as she pulled the blankets above her head hoping her handmaidens would leave her be but alas they just tutted and clattered about in the mornings preparations. There was no hope of sleeping her day away, no relent from her noble appearance; she knew this but it didn’t prevent the slump in her shoulders as she finally rose to her feet and meandered towards the relentless moments of preening her to perfection.
“You should be excited Lady Agathe.” Ever the brat, she cast her maiden a narrowed stare from her shoulder and sighed a weighted sound. She should be lucky, Agathe knew for it was an honour to be invited but even from a young age the girl didn’t hold a mind for socialising amongst the political circle. Agathe felt less of a daughter and more of a pretty thing to display, her sisters ofcourse were shrill with delight and jealousy; they were young enough to find the joys in playing dress up but for her? It just meant putting on a good display, representing the family and standing proud of her name. How was one to stand proud when all her father had cared for was a son? She had heard the mutterings, the utterings and the whispers that three girls wasn’t enough.
“I’ll be excited when it stops being a circus.” Already, the mind beneath the luxurious blonde strands being forcefully pinned into some elegant braid or another had loathed the facade of such things, sick of being poised and twisted into something of pride. Fortunately, those outside of these walls were unaware of the brewing volcano her family had truly been.
“It’s not a circus Lady.” It was and her mind had been made up on that matter, why couldn’t Daniil have been born first? She wondered, the apple of her fathers eye; she would do much better than she even wanted to. She said little else as she plucked a grape from the platter popping it into her mouth with a disgruntled huff of obvious disagreement, the glances of caution didn’t go amiss as she reached for her chalice of wine whilst they worked on weaving strands of gold and lilac ribbons into her hair to match the muted shade of her chiton; ofcourse she had to match her mother but instead of speaking further Agathe simply went with the flow of her morning.
By the time she had arrived her cheeks were aching with the facade of a smile plastered on her face, but still she stood tall with her chin pointed upwards as if she owned the place. The only glimmer of resentment lay in her thoughts, a silent prayer for Athena to get her through this unscathed. Her shoulders rolled as she stared at the expansive building before her, her lungs filled with a confident breath before she strode forward into the great hall, eyes scanning over the faces who were meeting her own hoping to find one advantageous enough for a distraction.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was the crack of dawn and already there were a slew of handmaidens bustling about her private quarters in a bustle of excitement that had done little to rouse her from her slumber of blissful ignorance. It was her first trip to the courts, her father refused to let her forget not that she cared much for his orders made abundantly clear as she pulled the blankets above her head hoping her handmaidens would leave her be but alas they just tutted and clattered about in the mornings preparations. There was no hope of sleeping her day away, no relent from her noble appearance; she knew this but it didn’t prevent the slump in her shoulders as she finally rose to her feet and meandered towards the relentless moments of preening her to perfection.
“You should be excited Lady Agathe.” Ever the brat, she cast her maiden a narrowed stare from her shoulder and sighed a weighted sound. She should be lucky, Agathe knew for it was an honour to be invited but even from a young age the girl didn’t hold a mind for socialising amongst the political circle. Agathe felt less of a daughter and more of a pretty thing to display, her sisters ofcourse were shrill with delight and jealousy; they were young enough to find the joys in playing dress up but for her? It just meant putting on a good display, representing the family and standing proud of her name. How was one to stand proud when all her father had cared for was a son? She had heard the mutterings, the utterings and the whispers that three girls wasn’t enough.
“I’ll be excited when it stops being a circus.” Already, the mind beneath the luxurious blonde strands being forcefully pinned into some elegant braid or another had loathed the facade of such things, sick of being poised and twisted into something of pride. Fortunately, those outside of these walls were unaware of the brewing volcano her family had truly been.
“It’s not a circus Lady.” It was and her mind had been made up on that matter, why couldn’t Daniil have been born first? She wondered, the apple of her fathers eye; she would do much better than she even wanted to. She said little else as she plucked a grape from the platter popping it into her mouth with a disgruntled huff of obvious disagreement, the glances of caution didn’t go amiss as she reached for her chalice of wine whilst they worked on weaving strands of gold and lilac ribbons into her hair to match the muted shade of her chiton; ofcourse she had to match her mother but instead of speaking further Agathe simply went with the flow of her morning.
By the time she had arrived her cheeks were aching with the facade of a smile plastered on her face, but still she stood tall with her chin pointed upwards as if she owned the place. The only glimmer of resentment lay in her thoughts, a silent prayer for Athena to get her through this unscathed. Her shoulders rolled as she stared at the expansive building before her, her lungs filled with a confident breath before she strode forward into the great hall, eyes scanning over the faces who were meeting her own hoping to find one advantageous enough for a distraction.
It was the crack of dawn and already there were a slew of handmaidens bustling about her private quarters in a bustle of excitement that had done little to rouse her from her slumber of blissful ignorance. It was her first trip to the courts, her father refused to let her forget not that she cared much for his orders made abundantly clear as she pulled the blankets above her head hoping her handmaidens would leave her be but alas they just tutted and clattered about in the mornings preparations. There was no hope of sleeping her day away, no relent from her noble appearance; she knew this but it didn’t prevent the slump in her shoulders as she finally rose to her feet and meandered towards the relentless moments of preening her to perfection.
“You should be excited Lady Agathe.” Ever the brat, she cast her maiden a narrowed stare from her shoulder and sighed a weighted sound. She should be lucky, Agathe knew for it was an honour to be invited but even from a young age the girl didn’t hold a mind for socialising amongst the political circle. Agathe felt less of a daughter and more of a pretty thing to display, her sisters ofcourse were shrill with delight and jealousy; they were young enough to find the joys in playing dress up but for her? It just meant putting on a good display, representing the family and standing proud of her name. How was one to stand proud when all her father had cared for was a son? She had heard the mutterings, the utterings and the whispers that three girls wasn’t enough.
“I’ll be excited when it stops being a circus.” Already, the mind beneath the luxurious blonde strands being forcefully pinned into some elegant braid or another had loathed the facade of such things, sick of being poised and twisted into something of pride. Fortunately, those outside of these walls were unaware of the brewing volcano her family had truly been.
“It’s not a circus Lady.” It was and her mind had been made up on that matter, why couldn’t Daniil have been born first? She wondered, the apple of her fathers eye; she would do much better than she even wanted to. She said little else as she plucked a grape from the platter popping it into her mouth with a disgruntled huff of obvious disagreement, the glances of caution didn’t go amiss as she reached for her chalice of wine whilst they worked on weaving strands of gold and lilac ribbons into her hair to match the muted shade of her chiton; ofcourse she had to match her mother but instead of speaking further Agathe simply went with the flow of her morning.
By the time she had arrived her cheeks were aching with the facade of a smile plastered on her face, but still she stood tall with her chin pointed upwards as if she owned the place. The only glimmer of resentment lay in her thoughts, a silent prayer for Athena to get her through this unscathed. Her shoulders rolled as she stared at the expansive building before her, her lungs filled with a confident breath before she strode forward into the great hall, eyes scanning over the faces who were meeting her own hoping to find one advantageous enough for a distraction.
Stelios stared up at the ornate ceiling while a cacophony of voices echoed off the pristine, white marble walls. The vastness of the Grand Hall had not yet lost its ability to impress him every time he stepped into the palati. The ceiling, though, was much more interesting than the people milling about below. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes following the story of Athena and Arachne. This was a story he liked quite a bit because it made the goddess out to be as petty as any human. There ill fated sat, boasting to her friends that she could weave better than Athena, not knowing that the goddess was within ear shot.
Someone shrieked with laughter and Stelios glanced away from the ceiling to find one of the court ladies now giggling behind her hand. The sound hung in the air, higher and more irritating than the echoing droning hum all around him. He shifted from one foot to the other and glanced back up, losing his place in the Arachne story by seeing the golden net Hephaestus was fashioning to catch Ares and Aphrodite together, before finding the right place again. There were a great many tales painted above them, all leading into each other and around each other, one right after the other that it could make someone dizzy who wasn’t familiar with the expansive work.
His attention skimmed along the challenge of a weaving contest between Athena and her victim. It was strange to see the goddess sitting down and doing such a feminine task. Usually she was depicted as standing straight and tall, with a helm on her head, a shield on her arm, and the bearing of a man. He glanced forward, ignoring that Arachne won the competition and eyed her hideous, spider body the longest of any portion of the image. Spiders were such loathsome creatures but they were interesting, too - the way a long dark hallway can be interesting. The artist had gone to quite a bit of trouble to make the spider’s body bulbous and fat, with long, thick legs. Hair bristled along each of the eight limbs and the eyes were the worst part. Two huge ones with six beady, shiny ones surrounding them.
He looked away, grimacing and shuddered involuntarily. Gods did he hate spiders. There wasn’t fear there, exactly, but certainly disgust and he definitely didn’t want one crawling on him. ”Who is that?”
“Hmmm?” he glanced at his brother, Mateos, who had just stepped next to him. Mateos pointed towards the doorway. There, walking into the room like a golden vision, was a girl who looked familiar and yet not immediately placeable. So many of these Athenian lords had daughters. Even the king had only daughters and so Stelios was not immediately calling this one’s name to mind...but he intended to find out before Mateos did.
It was the desire to get to a woman before his elder brother could that drove him to dive into the sea of courtiers. He shifted around that lord, skirted this lady, said “Pardon me” and “Excuse me” several times, never intending to be directly in front of Agathe. No, he had a plan. He’d gain her notice by being aloof and stoic. Mateos did that and so could he. This plan may have worked if he’d not had to dodge someone’s free wheeling arm, side step, and take a massive step backward, only to then turn and find himself nearly against Lady Agathe.
Stelios stared at her. She’d been lovely before but was positively radiant close up. His blue eyes went wide, his expression slack, and he managed an articulate, “Uhhh” by way of introduction. All thought fled and someone was laughing a good distance away. Familiar laughter from a brother he would have to hit later.
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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Stelios stared up at the ornate ceiling while a cacophony of voices echoed off the pristine, white marble walls. The vastness of the Grand Hall had not yet lost its ability to impress him every time he stepped into the palati. The ceiling, though, was much more interesting than the people milling about below. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes following the story of Athena and Arachne. This was a story he liked quite a bit because it made the goddess out to be as petty as any human. There ill fated sat, boasting to her friends that she could weave better than Athena, not knowing that the goddess was within ear shot.
Someone shrieked with laughter and Stelios glanced away from the ceiling to find one of the court ladies now giggling behind her hand. The sound hung in the air, higher and more irritating than the echoing droning hum all around him. He shifted from one foot to the other and glanced back up, losing his place in the Arachne story by seeing the golden net Hephaestus was fashioning to catch Ares and Aphrodite together, before finding the right place again. There were a great many tales painted above them, all leading into each other and around each other, one right after the other that it could make someone dizzy who wasn’t familiar with the expansive work.
His attention skimmed along the challenge of a weaving contest between Athena and her victim. It was strange to see the goddess sitting down and doing such a feminine task. Usually she was depicted as standing straight and tall, with a helm on her head, a shield on her arm, and the bearing of a man. He glanced forward, ignoring that Arachne won the competition and eyed her hideous, spider body the longest of any portion of the image. Spiders were such loathsome creatures but they were interesting, too - the way a long dark hallway can be interesting. The artist had gone to quite a bit of trouble to make the spider’s body bulbous and fat, with long, thick legs. Hair bristled along each of the eight limbs and the eyes were the worst part. Two huge ones with six beady, shiny ones surrounding them.
He looked away, grimacing and shuddered involuntarily. Gods did he hate spiders. There wasn’t fear there, exactly, but certainly disgust and he definitely didn’t want one crawling on him. ”Who is that?”
“Hmmm?” he glanced at his brother, Mateos, who had just stepped next to him. Mateos pointed towards the doorway. There, walking into the room like a golden vision, was a girl who looked familiar and yet not immediately placeable. So many of these Athenian lords had daughters. Even the king had only daughters and so Stelios was not immediately calling this one’s name to mind...but he intended to find out before Mateos did.
It was the desire to get to a woman before his elder brother could that drove him to dive into the sea of courtiers. He shifted around that lord, skirted this lady, said “Pardon me” and “Excuse me” several times, never intending to be directly in front of Agathe. No, he had a plan. He’d gain her notice by being aloof and stoic. Mateos did that and so could he. This plan may have worked if he’d not had to dodge someone’s free wheeling arm, side step, and take a massive step backward, only to then turn and find himself nearly against Lady Agathe.
Stelios stared at her. She’d been lovely before but was positively radiant close up. His blue eyes went wide, his expression slack, and he managed an articulate, “Uhhh” by way of introduction. All thought fled and someone was laughing a good distance away. Familiar laughter from a brother he would have to hit later.
Stelios stared up at the ornate ceiling while a cacophony of voices echoed off the pristine, white marble walls. The vastness of the Grand Hall had not yet lost its ability to impress him every time he stepped into the palati. The ceiling, though, was much more interesting than the people milling about below. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes following the story of Athena and Arachne. This was a story he liked quite a bit because it made the goddess out to be as petty as any human. There ill fated sat, boasting to her friends that she could weave better than Athena, not knowing that the goddess was within ear shot.
Someone shrieked with laughter and Stelios glanced away from the ceiling to find one of the court ladies now giggling behind her hand. The sound hung in the air, higher and more irritating than the echoing droning hum all around him. He shifted from one foot to the other and glanced back up, losing his place in the Arachne story by seeing the golden net Hephaestus was fashioning to catch Ares and Aphrodite together, before finding the right place again. There were a great many tales painted above them, all leading into each other and around each other, one right after the other that it could make someone dizzy who wasn’t familiar with the expansive work.
His attention skimmed along the challenge of a weaving contest between Athena and her victim. It was strange to see the goddess sitting down and doing such a feminine task. Usually she was depicted as standing straight and tall, with a helm on her head, a shield on her arm, and the bearing of a man. He glanced forward, ignoring that Arachne won the competition and eyed her hideous, spider body the longest of any portion of the image. Spiders were such loathsome creatures but they were interesting, too - the way a long dark hallway can be interesting. The artist had gone to quite a bit of trouble to make the spider’s body bulbous and fat, with long, thick legs. Hair bristled along each of the eight limbs and the eyes were the worst part. Two huge ones with six beady, shiny ones surrounding them.
He looked away, grimacing and shuddered involuntarily. Gods did he hate spiders. There wasn’t fear there, exactly, but certainly disgust and he definitely didn’t want one crawling on him. ”Who is that?”
“Hmmm?” he glanced at his brother, Mateos, who had just stepped next to him. Mateos pointed towards the doorway. There, walking into the room like a golden vision, was a girl who looked familiar and yet not immediately placeable. So many of these Athenian lords had daughters. Even the king had only daughters and so Stelios was not immediately calling this one’s name to mind...but he intended to find out before Mateos did.
It was the desire to get to a woman before his elder brother could that drove him to dive into the sea of courtiers. He shifted around that lord, skirted this lady, said “Pardon me” and “Excuse me” several times, never intending to be directly in front of Agathe. No, he had a plan. He’d gain her notice by being aloof and stoic. Mateos did that and so could he. This plan may have worked if he’d not had to dodge someone’s free wheeling arm, side step, and take a massive step backward, only to then turn and find himself nearly against Lady Agathe.
Stelios stared at her. She’d been lovely before but was positively radiant close up. His blue eyes went wide, his expression slack, and he managed an articulate, “Uhhh” by way of introduction. All thought fled and someone was laughing a good distance away. Familiar laughter from a brother he would have to hit later.
The young woman of fifteen years had been all too aware of the hushed giggles being caught in the palms of many and even at this age, she simply sniffed in disgust at such gossip and humour being so tedious as if other girls like her had naught better to do. However, this court was her first and she was almost certain that she was supposed to be making connections, herself known and whatever else in the name of politics and so; for a while her muted lilac chiton had blended in with a group of others with a smile painted on her face. Unfortunately, Agathe had grown bored within a few short moments finding that most of the chatter was about what some other lady was wearing and which boy was cute enough and how they would make beautiful babies.
Agathe clicked her tongue and plucked another cup of wine from a passing tray exchanging it for her empty grasp, already Agathe was finding a disdain for a drinkless hand. “Do you think that’s wise Lady Agathe?” The girl to her left muttered behind a shielding hand, the girl whose name escaped her though hers was known enough to memorise and Agathe scanned her bright eyes over the shade of fabric she hand adorned and snorted a sound of bitterness. “Wiser than that colour choice.. Yellow? Really?” And with that said, Agathe strode away from the gaggle of petulant girls without sticking around to hear their poisonous retorts if they held the brain between them to think up on that is.
“Ahh, Lady Agathe.. What a pleasure it is to see you.” Agathes gaze had been elsewhere, slowly turning to meet the tall being that was addressing her and she couldn’t place his face even though she knew him to be of importance so she bowed in a curtsey and addressed him as expected. “It’s a pleasure to be here my lord.” Her polite words gained a soft chuckle before losing her in idle chatter.
“How are you finding your first court?” Now, at the question posed before her. Agathe had two options to play it sweet or to be honest, however it’d disgrace her father if she was to be honest and so she tucked a loose curl behind her ear and pursed her lips to the side bashfully, “It’s overwhelming Sir, I’m not typically used to being a new face..” Casually Agathe sipped at her wine, trying to not make it obvious that it was her second already. Over by one column or that column or even that pillar over there she had known many conversations such as this one were taking place, conversations where personality didn’t matter for politics were involved in everything.
Agathe had learned from a young age that she didn’t truly matter in gatherings, it was about her family name and how she had represented them and adorned her title like a crown on her head. It was the reason for her second cup of wine, a cup she had taken another sip from as individuality didn’t hold much weight in the eyes staring down delightfully before her pleased that she had appeared. Not that she had much choice in the matter, if she had? Agathe wouldn’t be attending, as he spoke on about nothing to her interest she scanned her eyes around the hall wondering how people found such wonder in things that glittered and smelled pretty but then she frowned wondering if something was wrong with her for not fitting in that mould. “Excuse me Lord.”
Turning away from the conversation, she scanned around the room looking for somewhere to hide until she was able to leave finding almost every corner of the great hall to be occupied possibly by people with the same intentions. With a sigh, she turned on her feet to continue mingling only to near bump into a young male staring towards her and just by looking at him she knew he was at a loss for words. He was handsome enough, enough for her head to tilt to the side with a smile tugging at her lips as she thought of all the other women around her and she even glanced around wondering if she was in the way but no, she wasn’t; he sought her out and a pink hue found her expression as she giggled a soft breath at his stumbling sound of Uhhh.
“Lady Agathe, of house Marikas..” She barely managed to utter clearly as she held her hand out between them, long lashes fluttering in wonder as Agathe couldn’t quite believe that he had sought her out nevermind couldn’t find the words to say hello. Again, she smiled and nodded towards him “Now you..” She playfully guided him to share his name as she had done, bright eyes alight with wonder until she caught the sound of his assumed relatives laughter. It was a laughter that drew a squint of annoyance over her companions shoulder, “Is he typically so loud sir?”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The young woman of fifteen years had been all too aware of the hushed giggles being caught in the palms of many and even at this age, she simply sniffed in disgust at such gossip and humour being so tedious as if other girls like her had naught better to do. However, this court was her first and she was almost certain that she was supposed to be making connections, herself known and whatever else in the name of politics and so; for a while her muted lilac chiton had blended in with a group of others with a smile painted on her face. Unfortunately, Agathe had grown bored within a few short moments finding that most of the chatter was about what some other lady was wearing and which boy was cute enough and how they would make beautiful babies.
Agathe clicked her tongue and plucked another cup of wine from a passing tray exchanging it for her empty grasp, already Agathe was finding a disdain for a drinkless hand. “Do you think that’s wise Lady Agathe?” The girl to her left muttered behind a shielding hand, the girl whose name escaped her though hers was known enough to memorise and Agathe scanned her bright eyes over the shade of fabric she hand adorned and snorted a sound of bitterness. “Wiser than that colour choice.. Yellow? Really?” And with that said, Agathe strode away from the gaggle of petulant girls without sticking around to hear their poisonous retorts if they held the brain between them to think up on that is.
“Ahh, Lady Agathe.. What a pleasure it is to see you.” Agathes gaze had been elsewhere, slowly turning to meet the tall being that was addressing her and she couldn’t place his face even though she knew him to be of importance so she bowed in a curtsey and addressed him as expected. “It’s a pleasure to be here my lord.” Her polite words gained a soft chuckle before losing her in idle chatter.
“How are you finding your first court?” Now, at the question posed before her. Agathe had two options to play it sweet or to be honest, however it’d disgrace her father if she was to be honest and so she tucked a loose curl behind her ear and pursed her lips to the side bashfully, “It’s overwhelming Sir, I’m not typically used to being a new face..” Casually Agathe sipped at her wine, trying to not make it obvious that it was her second already. Over by one column or that column or even that pillar over there she had known many conversations such as this one were taking place, conversations where personality didn’t matter for politics were involved in everything.
Agathe had learned from a young age that she didn’t truly matter in gatherings, it was about her family name and how she had represented them and adorned her title like a crown on her head. It was the reason for her second cup of wine, a cup she had taken another sip from as individuality didn’t hold much weight in the eyes staring down delightfully before her pleased that she had appeared. Not that she had much choice in the matter, if she had? Agathe wouldn’t be attending, as he spoke on about nothing to her interest she scanned her eyes around the hall wondering how people found such wonder in things that glittered and smelled pretty but then she frowned wondering if something was wrong with her for not fitting in that mould. “Excuse me Lord.”
Turning away from the conversation, she scanned around the room looking for somewhere to hide until she was able to leave finding almost every corner of the great hall to be occupied possibly by people with the same intentions. With a sigh, she turned on her feet to continue mingling only to near bump into a young male staring towards her and just by looking at him she knew he was at a loss for words. He was handsome enough, enough for her head to tilt to the side with a smile tugging at her lips as she thought of all the other women around her and she even glanced around wondering if she was in the way but no, she wasn’t; he sought her out and a pink hue found her expression as she giggled a soft breath at his stumbling sound of Uhhh.
“Lady Agathe, of house Marikas..” She barely managed to utter clearly as she held her hand out between them, long lashes fluttering in wonder as Agathe couldn’t quite believe that he had sought her out nevermind couldn’t find the words to say hello. Again, she smiled and nodded towards him “Now you..” She playfully guided him to share his name as she had done, bright eyes alight with wonder until she caught the sound of his assumed relatives laughter. It was a laughter that drew a squint of annoyance over her companions shoulder, “Is he typically so loud sir?”
The young woman of fifteen years had been all too aware of the hushed giggles being caught in the palms of many and even at this age, she simply sniffed in disgust at such gossip and humour being so tedious as if other girls like her had naught better to do. However, this court was her first and she was almost certain that she was supposed to be making connections, herself known and whatever else in the name of politics and so; for a while her muted lilac chiton had blended in with a group of others with a smile painted on her face. Unfortunately, Agathe had grown bored within a few short moments finding that most of the chatter was about what some other lady was wearing and which boy was cute enough and how they would make beautiful babies.
Agathe clicked her tongue and plucked another cup of wine from a passing tray exchanging it for her empty grasp, already Agathe was finding a disdain for a drinkless hand. “Do you think that’s wise Lady Agathe?” The girl to her left muttered behind a shielding hand, the girl whose name escaped her though hers was known enough to memorise and Agathe scanned her bright eyes over the shade of fabric she hand adorned and snorted a sound of bitterness. “Wiser than that colour choice.. Yellow? Really?” And with that said, Agathe strode away from the gaggle of petulant girls without sticking around to hear their poisonous retorts if they held the brain between them to think up on that is.
“Ahh, Lady Agathe.. What a pleasure it is to see you.” Agathes gaze had been elsewhere, slowly turning to meet the tall being that was addressing her and she couldn’t place his face even though she knew him to be of importance so she bowed in a curtsey and addressed him as expected. “It’s a pleasure to be here my lord.” Her polite words gained a soft chuckle before losing her in idle chatter.
“How are you finding your first court?” Now, at the question posed before her. Agathe had two options to play it sweet or to be honest, however it’d disgrace her father if she was to be honest and so she tucked a loose curl behind her ear and pursed her lips to the side bashfully, “It’s overwhelming Sir, I’m not typically used to being a new face..” Casually Agathe sipped at her wine, trying to not make it obvious that it was her second already. Over by one column or that column or even that pillar over there she had known many conversations such as this one were taking place, conversations where personality didn’t matter for politics were involved in everything.
Agathe had learned from a young age that she didn’t truly matter in gatherings, it was about her family name and how she had represented them and adorned her title like a crown on her head. It was the reason for her second cup of wine, a cup she had taken another sip from as individuality didn’t hold much weight in the eyes staring down delightfully before her pleased that she had appeared. Not that she had much choice in the matter, if she had? Agathe wouldn’t be attending, as he spoke on about nothing to her interest she scanned her eyes around the hall wondering how people found such wonder in things that glittered and smelled pretty but then she frowned wondering if something was wrong with her for not fitting in that mould. “Excuse me Lord.”
Turning away from the conversation, she scanned around the room looking for somewhere to hide until she was able to leave finding almost every corner of the great hall to be occupied possibly by people with the same intentions. With a sigh, she turned on her feet to continue mingling only to near bump into a young male staring towards her and just by looking at him she knew he was at a loss for words. He was handsome enough, enough for her head to tilt to the side with a smile tugging at her lips as she thought of all the other women around her and she even glanced around wondering if she was in the way but no, she wasn’t; he sought her out and a pink hue found her expression as she giggled a soft breath at his stumbling sound of Uhhh.
“Lady Agathe, of house Marikas..” She barely managed to utter clearly as she held her hand out between them, long lashes fluttering in wonder as Agathe couldn’t quite believe that he had sought her out nevermind couldn’t find the words to say hello. Again, she smiled and nodded towards him “Now you..” She playfully guided him to share his name as she had done, bright eyes alight with wonder until she caught the sound of his assumed relatives laughter. It was a laughter that drew a squint of annoyance over her companions shoulder, “Is he typically so loud sir?”
