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The sun was just starting to shine, the birds were singing their morning tunes, and the day seemed to be planning to be a beautiful day. It was early and already Athanasia was done with it. Ntanta had sequestered the 15 year old into putting her hair up into some complicated style that Asia was not used too. The room was filled with the squeals and shreiks of pain from Athanasia as her hair was brushed and pulled into complicated twists and styled. Normally her hair was put into a simple braid down her back or left free but brushed nice, but today her hair was filled with ribbons and pins to hold every strand in place. Asia didn't understand why her hair had to be up, there wasn't a party she needed to attend and when others did come over, she was usually excluded anyways.
"Ntanta, why do I have to have my hair up? It hurts!" Athanasia was looking in the bronze mirror at her lady's maid, glaring. 'It hurts now, but doing this will make it to where it won't hurt later when you are older. You have to dress up sometimes child.' was the only reply she got. Dressed in a long light green peplos, simple silver fibulae at her shoulders to hold the cloth in place and a belt, Athanasia felt silly being so dressed up. Looking at her hair felt like a nightmare, seeing the ribbons, twists, and flashs where the pins caught the light as they hid in her hair. Her eyes were wet from the tears of pain that escaped.
'Come, it is time to greet the guests and show your mother that you can look like a respectable princess and not some little wild beast' Ntanta said to her, making Asia's cheeks puff out in her frustration. "Fine." Was all she said as she jumped up and met their guests at the enterence. Would it be that guy who was Evras' brother? He seemed to over often, though he always seemed to be ignoring Athanasia in the years that she has known him. Or he sometimes tolerated her if they were forced too. If it was him, Athanasia was already plotting her escape so she can get these pins out of her hair.
Athene
Athanasia
Athene
Athanasia
Awards
First Impressions:Leggy; Warm, bronze-colored eyes; thick wavy hair & an easy smile.
Address: Your Royal Highness
The sun was just starting to shine, the birds were singing their morning tunes, and the day seemed to be planning to be a beautiful day. It was early and already Athanasia was done with it. Ntanta had sequestered the 15 year old into putting her hair up into some complicated style that Asia was not used too. The room was filled with the squeals and shreiks of pain from Athanasia as her hair was brushed and pulled into complicated twists and styled. Normally her hair was put into a simple braid down her back or left free but brushed nice, but today her hair was filled with ribbons and pins to hold every strand in place. Asia didn't understand why her hair had to be up, there wasn't a party she needed to attend and when others did come over, she was usually excluded anyways.
"Ntanta, why do I have to have my hair up? It hurts!" Athanasia was looking in the bronze mirror at her lady's maid, glaring. 'It hurts now, but doing this will make it to where it won't hurt later when you are older. You have to dress up sometimes child.' was the only reply she got. Dressed in a long light green peplos, simple silver fibulae at her shoulders to hold the cloth in place and a belt, Athanasia felt silly being so dressed up. Looking at her hair felt like a nightmare, seeing the ribbons, twists, and flashs where the pins caught the light as they hid in her hair. Her eyes were wet from the tears of pain that escaped.
'Come, it is time to greet the guests and show your mother that you can look like a respectable princess and not some little wild beast' Ntanta said to her, making Asia's cheeks puff out in her frustration. "Fine." Was all she said as she jumped up and met their guests at the enterence. Would it be that guy who was Evras' brother? He seemed to over often, though he always seemed to be ignoring Athanasia in the years that she has known him. Or he sometimes tolerated her if they were forced too. If it was him, Athanasia was already plotting her escape so she can get these pins out of her hair.
The sun was just starting to shine, the birds were singing their morning tunes, and the day seemed to be planning to be a beautiful day. It was early and already Athanasia was done with it. Ntanta had sequestered the 15 year old into putting her hair up into some complicated style that Asia was not used too. The room was filled with the squeals and shreiks of pain from Athanasia as her hair was brushed and pulled into complicated twists and styled. Normally her hair was put into a simple braid down her back or left free but brushed nice, but today her hair was filled with ribbons and pins to hold every strand in place. Asia didn't understand why her hair had to be up, there wasn't a party she needed to attend and when others did come over, she was usually excluded anyways.
"Ntanta, why do I have to have my hair up? It hurts!" Athanasia was looking in the bronze mirror at her lady's maid, glaring. 'It hurts now, but doing this will make it to where it won't hurt later when you are older. You have to dress up sometimes child.' was the only reply she got. Dressed in a long light green peplos, simple silver fibulae at her shoulders to hold the cloth in place and a belt, Athanasia felt silly being so dressed up. Looking at her hair felt like a nightmare, seeing the ribbons, twists, and flashs where the pins caught the light as they hid in her hair. Her eyes were wet from the tears of pain that escaped.
'Come, it is time to greet the guests and show your mother that you can look like a respectable princess and not some little wild beast' Ntanta said to her, making Asia's cheeks puff out in her frustration. "Fine." Was all she said as she jumped up and met their guests at the enterence. Would it be that guy who was Evras' brother? He seemed to over often, though he always seemed to be ignoring Athanasia in the years that she has known him. Or he sometimes tolerated her if they were forced too. If it was him, Athanasia was already plotting her escape so she can get these pins out of her hair.
Mihail was displeased, to say the least.
He was twenty and thoroughly uninterested in spending the rest of his life under the control of his family (not that he typically allowed them to control his actions, save Nethis at times). He had finer things to do other than follow the rest of them around to their dull affairs and act as though he cared for any of it when they all knew full well that he did not, and his apathetically unimpressed demeanour throughout the entire ordeal would only accentuate that state of distaste.
Typically, he did not greatly mind visiting Evras. She was not his favourite sister unless it benefitted a want for anything from her, but he had always liked her, particularly when compared to his care for Dysius's life (as if he was ever going to visit him once he got married — good riddance). But he was not keen on visiting her when his interests for the day lay in activities he thought more appealing, preferring instead when the woman came to her family home on a far more agreeable schedule that let him drift down whenever he could spare the time.
But here he was, inexplicably a guest of the Kotas home, lips curled down into that sulky expression that was so usual to him as he greeted each of the necessary individuals that came with seeing Evras. Although he gave each of them the appropriate friendliness, there was that blankness in his tone which spoke to disinterest, and his eyes darted elsewhere with their noticeable desire for some degree of stimulation.
The youngest of the original gaggle of Kotas children — the girl — was here, with her hair done up in some manner that already appeared to be falling to pieces and let Mihail raise an amused eyebrow at the look of it, one hand dropping to his hip as he looked her over. At least the girl was pretty, else any questionable hairdo would be enough thoroughly to ruin her looks.
"Keeping up appearances, then, your Highness," he commented, trying to maintain some degree of politeness in his voice, though his comment was obviously sarcastic. A part of him wondered if she could even notice, as he did not always believe the current ruling family seemed to maintain the same intelligence as his own, but there was nearly as much humour in the possibility of a misunderstanding, so he was far from bothered. "I do like this new look we are...attempting."
Az
Mihail
Az
Mihail
Awards
First Impressions:Slim; Broken nose, piercing gaze, red-painted nails.
Address: Your His Lordship
He was twenty and thoroughly uninterested in spending the rest of his life under the control of his family (not that he typically allowed them to control his actions, save Nethis at times). He had finer things to do other than follow the rest of them around to their dull affairs and act as though he cared for any of it when they all knew full well that he did not, and his apathetically unimpressed demeanour throughout the entire ordeal would only accentuate that state of distaste.
Typically, he did not greatly mind visiting Evras. She was not his favourite sister unless it benefitted a want for anything from her, but he had always liked her, particularly when compared to his care for Dysius's life (as if he was ever going to visit him once he got married — good riddance). But he was not keen on visiting her when his interests for the day lay in activities he thought more appealing, preferring instead when the woman came to her family home on a far more agreeable schedule that let him drift down whenever he could spare the time.
But here he was, inexplicably a guest of the Kotas home, lips curled down into that sulky expression that was so usual to him as he greeted each of the necessary individuals that came with seeing Evras. Although he gave each of them the appropriate friendliness, there was that blankness in his tone which spoke to disinterest, and his eyes darted elsewhere with their noticeable desire for some degree of stimulation.
The youngest of the original gaggle of Kotas children — the girl — was here, with her hair done up in some manner that already appeared to be falling to pieces and let Mihail raise an amused eyebrow at the look of it, one hand dropping to his hip as he looked her over. At least the girl was pretty, else any questionable hairdo would be enough thoroughly to ruin her looks.
"Keeping up appearances, then, your Highness," he commented, trying to maintain some degree of politeness in his voice, though his comment was obviously sarcastic. A part of him wondered if she could even notice, as he did not always believe the current ruling family seemed to maintain the same intelligence as his own, but there was nearly as much humour in the possibility of a misunderstanding, so he was far from bothered. "I do like this new look we are...attempting."
Mihail was displeased, to say the least.
He was twenty and thoroughly uninterested in spending the rest of his life under the control of his family (not that he typically allowed them to control his actions, save Nethis at times). He had finer things to do other than follow the rest of them around to their dull affairs and act as though he cared for any of it when they all knew full well that he did not, and his apathetically unimpressed demeanour throughout the entire ordeal would only accentuate that state of distaste.
Typically, he did not greatly mind visiting Evras. She was not his favourite sister unless it benefitted a want for anything from her, but he had always liked her, particularly when compared to his care for Dysius's life (as if he was ever going to visit him once he got married — good riddance). But he was not keen on visiting her when his interests for the day lay in activities he thought more appealing, preferring instead when the woman came to her family home on a far more agreeable schedule that let him drift down whenever he could spare the time.
But here he was, inexplicably a guest of the Kotas home, lips curled down into that sulky expression that was so usual to him as he greeted each of the necessary individuals that came with seeing Evras. Although he gave each of them the appropriate friendliness, there was that blankness in his tone which spoke to disinterest, and his eyes darted elsewhere with their noticeable desire for some degree of stimulation.
The youngest of the original gaggle of Kotas children — the girl — was here, with her hair done up in some manner that already appeared to be falling to pieces and let Mihail raise an amused eyebrow at the look of it, one hand dropping to his hip as he looked her over. At least the girl was pretty, else any questionable hairdo would be enough thoroughly to ruin her looks.
"Keeping up appearances, then, your Highness," he commented, trying to maintain some degree of politeness in his voice, though his comment was obviously sarcastic. A part of him wondered if she could even notice, as he did not always believe the current ruling family seemed to maintain the same intelligence as his own, but there was nearly as much humour in the possibility of a misunderstanding, so he was far from bothered. "I do like this new look we are...attempting."
Asia head was starting to throb at the unusual style that Ntanta put her hair in that morning. On her way to the enterance, she tried to dry any tears that had excaped her will to not fall, the pain almost unbarrable. Who would have thought pins hurt so much, she wondered if it were possible that the maturing woman possibly gouged her scalp in her efforts to have Asia showing off some latest hair styles. A tearstained Asia was pulling at the particularly sharp sections of her hair when she reached the enterance to greet their visitor, and just as she had thought, it was the brother that seemed to have come to see what his sister was up too.
Seeing his sulky look even as he almost looked like he was possibly making fun of her with his eyebrow arched like that, Athanasia's nose scrunched just slightly as her growing frustrations even as she greeted him with a small smile. He was lucky he was cute, otherwise she just might point her dagger at him for annoying her in the mood she was in. Lord Mihail's comment had caused the princess to stop, shaking her head. "Not. By. Choice. My lord." Each word bitten out as she pulled a pin she found free. Looking at the long silver hook, Asia could see the tint of pink coating the edge of it, making her throw the bit of metal down the long hall away from where they stood. Athanasia didn't note his sarcasm, what with her own pain and anger blinding her from seeing it in others, her own annoyance lacing through her how voice.
The throbbing grew in Asia's head, her right palm resting against the side as she tried to eleviate the pain. Mihail's next comment spuring Athanasia to meet his eyes and being as young as she was, she still could not hide how she felt. "I beg your pardon, my lord. I do believe your sister is out with my brother Zanon. Please excuse me." With those parting words, Asia turned and left down the hall that she threw the pin, kicking it when she saw it. Leaning against the wall, Asia started to blindly pull at the ribbons in her hair, making it a large knot in her search to free herself.
Athene
Athanasia
Athene
Athanasia
Awards
First Impressions:Leggy; Warm, bronze-colored eyes; thick wavy hair & an easy smile.
Address: Your Royal Highness
Asia head was starting to throb at the unusual style that Ntanta put her hair in that morning. On her way to the enterance, she tried to dry any tears that had excaped her will to not fall, the pain almost unbarrable. Who would have thought pins hurt so much, she wondered if it were possible that the maturing woman possibly gouged her scalp in her efforts to have Asia showing off some latest hair styles. A tearstained Asia was pulling at the particularly sharp sections of her hair when she reached the enterance to greet their visitor, and just as she had thought, it was the brother that seemed to have come to see what his sister was up too.
Seeing his sulky look even as he almost looked like he was possibly making fun of her with his eyebrow arched like that, Athanasia's nose scrunched just slightly as her growing frustrations even as she greeted him with a small smile. He was lucky he was cute, otherwise she just might point her dagger at him for annoying her in the mood she was in. Lord Mihail's comment had caused the princess to stop, shaking her head. "Not. By. Choice. My lord." Each word bitten out as she pulled a pin she found free. Looking at the long silver hook, Asia could see the tint of pink coating the edge of it, making her throw the bit of metal down the long hall away from where they stood. Athanasia didn't note his sarcasm, what with her own pain and anger blinding her from seeing it in others, her own annoyance lacing through her how voice.
The throbbing grew in Asia's head, her right palm resting against the side as she tried to eleviate the pain. Mihail's next comment spuring Athanasia to meet his eyes and being as young as she was, she still could not hide how she felt. "I beg your pardon, my lord. I do believe your sister is out with my brother Zanon. Please excuse me." With those parting words, Asia turned and left down the hall that she threw the pin, kicking it when she saw it. Leaning against the wall, Asia started to blindly pull at the ribbons in her hair, making it a large knot in her search to free herself.
Asia head was starting to throb at the unusual style that Ntanta put her hair in that morning. On her way to the enterance, she tried to dry any tears that had excaped her will to not fall, the pain almost unbarrable. Who would have thought pins hurt so much, she wondered if it were possible that the maturing woman possibly gouged her scalp in her efforts to have Asia showing off some latest hair styles. A tearstained Asia was pulling at the particularly sharp sections of her hair when she reached the enterance to greet their visitor, and just as she had thought, it was the brother that seemed to have come to see what his sister was up too.
Seeing his sulky look even as he almost looked like he was possibly making fun of her with his eyebrow arched like that, Athanasia's nose scrunched just slightly as her growing frustrations even as she greeted him with a small smile. He was lucky he was cute, otherwise she just might point her dagger at him for annoying her in the mood she was in. Lord Mihail's comment had caused the princess to stop, shaking her head. "Not. By. Choice. My lord." Each word bitten out as she pulled a pin she found free. Looking at the long silver hook, Asia could see the tint of pink coating the edge of it, making her throw the bit of metal down the long hall away from where they stood. Athanasia didn't note his sarcasm, what with her own pain and anger blinding her from seeing it in others, her own annoyance lacing through her how voice.
The throbbing grew in Asia's head, her right palm resting against the side as she tried to eleviate the pain. Mihail's next comment spuring Athanasia to meet his eyes and being as young as she was, she still could not hide how she felt. "I beg your pardon, my lord. I do believe your sister is out with my brother Zanon. Please excuse me." With those parting words, Asia turned and left down the hall that she threw the pin, kicking it when she saw it. Leaning against the wall, Asia started to blindly pull at the ribbons in her hair, making it a large knot in her search to free herself.
"Yes, well, nobody would select such a look by choice," Mihail agreed, wondering if the girl even remotely noticed the obvious snark in his tone. He understood, of course, that not all were as gifted with the spreading of unkind words as he, but he had not thought himself remotely subtle. He had spoken with the specific intention that she should recognise and acknowledge his disdain, and if she did not, well, it rather undermined his entire intention. Still, at least she wasn’t the sort inexplicably to defend the hairstyle, and could recognise it for the tragedy it was.
For a moment, however, the subject was dropped, which was just as well, given that there were few worse comments the Thanasi thought he could make on the look without openly offending a Kotas and getting in trouble for it (and while the latter sounded amusing enough, the latter was not something he personally enjoyed: punishments were better suited to others). He was somewhat glad to have taken the moment to listen too, for else he likely would have missed the comment that Evras was out. Of course she was. He had been dragged here alongside the rest of his family for no reason, then. No matter. Mihail may well have found great irritation in the uselessness of the visit, but he was capable of finding ways of entertaining himself. At the very least, he could see how Dion was getting on instead — the only member of the Kotas family whom he could say with true certainty that he liked, though that may well have been down to their personal similarities.
He might have made his way directly to find Dion’s chambers then, had Mihail not found his attention drawn away towards the fretting princess, his eyebrow returning to its traditionally upwards-quirked position as he watched her somehow managing to create a scene all on her own. It was rather pathetic. So much so that a typically unseen part of his psyche kicked in, and he could not help but feel some sense of responsibility for remedying the absolute disaster of a fashion situation that was occurring.
“Stop,” he told Athanasia, tone moderately more friendly than the one he had used thus far in their interactions, and closer to the one he used with his nephew. “You are only going to make a greater mess of it.” For the longest time, he had had hair almost as long as hers, and he was well-versed in how to remedy plenty of possible diasters, for such was the necessity when one did not do their own hair and was not aware of the intricacies that went into designing such elaborate looks. “Be gentle. I assume you do not wish to end up bald for having pulled out all your hair in a blind rage.” That would certainly be embarrassing, although would perhaps make for an amusing tale in the future, particularly for the Thanasi family when attempting to discredit those currently on the throne.
Mihail made a vague gesture of helping her, reaching out a hand so that she might steady herself without the use of a wall, sucking the air in between his teeth as he examined the mess she had made. “Dear, you are upset. Perhaps we should find somebody to make this rather less awful.”
Az
Mihail
Az
Mihail
Awards
First Impressions:Slim; Broken nose, piercing gaze, red-painted nails.
Address: Your His Lordship
"Yes, well, nobody would select such a look by choice," Mihail agreed, wondering if the girl even remotely noticed the obvious snark in his tone. He understood, of course, that not all were as gifted with the spreading of unkind words as he, but he had not thought himself remotely subtle. He had spoken with the specific intention that she should recognise and acknowledge his disdain, and if she did not, well, it rather undermined his entire intention. Still, at least she wasn’t the sort inexplicably to defend the hairstyle, and could recognise it for the tragedy it was.
For a moment, however, the subject was dropped, which was just as well, given that there were few worse comments the Thanasi thought he could make on the look without openly offending a Kotas and getting in trouble for it (and while the latter sounded amusing enough, the latter was not something he personally enjoyed: punishments were better suited to others). He was somewhat glad to have taken the moment to listen too, for else he likely would have missed the comment that Evras was out. Of course she was. He had been dragged here alongside the rest of his family for no reason, then. No matter. Mihail may well have found great irritation in the uselessness of the visit, but he was capable of finding ways of entertaining himself. At the very least, he could see how Dion was getting on instead — the only member of the Kotas family whom he could say with true certainty that he liked, though that may well have been down to their personal similarities.
He might have made his way directly to find Dion’s chambers then, had Mihail not found his attention drawn away towards the fretting princess, his eyebrow returning to its traditionally upwards-quirked position as he watched her somehow managing to create a scene all on her own. It was rather pathetic. So much so that a typically unseen part of his psyche kicked in, and he could not help but feel some sense of responsibility for remedying the absolute disaster of a fashion situation that was occurring.
“Stop,” he told Athanasia, tone moderately more friendly than the one he had used thus far in their interactions, and closer to the one he used with his nephew. “You are only going to make a greater mess of it.” For the longest time, he had had hair almost as long as hers, and he was well-versed in how to remedy plenty of possible diasters, for such was the necessity when one did not do their own hair and was not aware of the intricacies that went into designing such elaborate looks. “Be gentle. I assume you do not wish to end up bald for having pulled out all your hair in a blind rage.” That would certainly be embarrassing, although would perhaps make for an amusing tale in the future, particularly for the Thanasi family when attempting to discredit those currently on the throne.
Mihail made a vague gesture of helping her, reaching out a hand so that she might steady herself without the use of a wall, sucking the air in between his teeth as he examined the mess she had made. “Dear, you are upset. Perhaps we should find somebody to make this rather less awful.”
"Yes, well, nobody would select such a look by choice," Mihail agreed, wondering if the girl even remotely noticed the obvious snark in his tone. He understood, of course, that not all were as gifted with the spreading of unkind words as he, but he had not thought himself remotely subtle. He had spoken with the specific intention that she should recognise and acknowledge his disdain, and if she did not, well, it rather undermined his entire intention. Still, at least she wasn’t the sort inexplicably to defend the hairstyle, and could recognise it for the tragedy it was.
For a moment, however, the subject was dropped, which was just as well, given that there were few worse comments the Thanasi thought he could make on the look without openly offending a Kotas and getting in trouble for it (and while the latter sounded amusing enough, the latter was not something he personally enjoyed: punishments were better suited to others). He was somewhat glad to have taken the moment to listen too, for else he likely would have missed the comment that Evras was out. Of course she was. He had been dragged here alongside the rest of his family for no reason, then. No matter. Mihail may well have found great irritation in the uselessness of the visit, but he was capable of finding ways of entertaining himself. At the very least, he could see how Dion was getting on instead — the only member of the Kotas family whom he could say with true certainty that he liked, though that may well have been down to their personal similarities.
He might have made his way directly to find Dion’s chambers then, had Mihail not found his attention drawn away towards the fretting princess, his eyebrow returning to its traditionally upwards-quirked position as he watched her somehow managing to create a scene all on her own. It was rather pathetic. So much so that a typically unseen part of his psyche kicked in, and he could not help but feel some sense of responsibility for remedying the absolute disaster of a fashion situation that was occurring.
“Stop,” he told Athanasia, tone moderately more friendly than the one he had used thus far in their interactions, and closer to the one he used with his nephew. “You are only going to make a greater mess of it.” For the longest time, he had had hair almost as long as hers, and he was well-versed in how to remedy plenty of possible diasters, for such was the necessity when one did not do their own hair and was not aware of the intricacies that went into designing such elaborate looks. “Be gentle. I assume you do not wish to end up bald for having pulled out all your hair in a blind rage.” That would certainly be embarrassing, although would perhaps make for an amusing tale in the future, particularly for the Thanasi family when attempting to discredit those currently on the throne.
Mihail made a vague gesture of helping her, reaching out a hand so that she might steady herself without the use of a wall, sucking the air in between his teeth as he examined the mess she had made. “Dear, you are upset. Perhaps we should find somebody to make this rather less awful.”
His words did not help Asia's growing headache, her ire from his snarky words mixing in with the pain of the knots upon her head. Silently she vowed to never let Ntanta near her with any sort of hair decorations for the next year, not until she practiced 100 times every day on her self or some other maid. Mihail's comment did earn him a side look that showed just what she thought of his comment. Asia's head was starting to throb as though Ntanta tried to force Athanasia to always have some kind of shocked look on her face, everything hurt.
Pulling one pin free, Asia could feel the small beginnings of relief as the pressure let up off of her scalp, even if there was a little blood involved. She was quick to dismiss Mihail and tell him that his sister was not around for the day, wanting to try and free herself from the mess on her head. Manners would have told her to stay and play the good hostess as her mother had taught her, but the pain made Asia's thoughts focus on escape. Escape from being seen, escape from the ribbons that wound through her hair like vines in tree branches, escape from the pain that bursted through her thoughts like a lightning bolt sent from Zues himself.
She made her way down the hall as she braced herself against the wall, pulling at the ribbons after she so hastely excused herself. She was at a loss for what to do as each knot seemed to pull tighter as she tried to loosen them. Why wouldn't they listen? Athanasta was just about to get her dagger out and start cutting when a voice told her to stop. This didn't sound like how Mihail normally spoke with her, it was... nicer? Asia paused in her pulling as she looked up at Mihail with tears in her eyes, his words about making it a bigger mess rang true, making her stop her pulling. "It really hurts. It is so tight, I just want.. I want to rip it all out just to stop this throbbing pain."
Mihail reminded her to be gentle and that she would possibly become bald if she pulled at her hair. With her eyes growing wide in horror she shook her head at that, Asia did NOT want to be bald. Looking up at him and his preoffered hand, she placed her trust in someone that normally seemed to always make fun of her, as she placed her hand in his own. Never having thought it possible, Asia leaned into her now rescuer as she let him lead the way. Never before had she ever even attempted to lean on anyone that wasn't her father or brothers, so this was new for Asia as she nodded her accptance. "Thank you, my lord. I won't ever forget this." Athanasia still had tears of pain in her eyes, but still she offered him a greatful smile. The one person she never expected to even listen, especially after it seemed like no one else did either, she was indeed filled with gratitude in that moment.
Athene
Athanasia
Athene
Athanasia
Awards
First Impressions:Leggy; Warm, bronze-colored eyes; thick wavy hair & an easy smile.
Address: Your Royal Highness
His words did not help Asia's growing headache, her ire from his snarky words mixing in with the pain of the knots upon her head. Silently she vowed to never let Ntanta near her with any sort of hair decorations for the next year, not until she practiced 100 times every day on her self or some other maid. Mihail's comment did earn him a side look that showed just what she thought of his comment. Asia's head was starting to throb as though Ntanta tried to force Athanasia to always have some kind of shocked look on her face, everything hurt.
Pulling one pin free, Asia could feel the small beginnings of relief as the pressure let up off of her scalp, even if there was a little blood involved. She was quick to dismiss Mihail and tell him that his sister was not around for the day, wanting to try and free herself from the mess on her head. Manners would have told her to stay and play the good hostess as her mother had taught her, but the pain made Asia's thoughts focus on escape. Escape from being seen, escape from the ribbons that wound through her hair like vines in tree branches, escape from the pain that bursted through her thoughts like a lightning bolt sent from Zues himself.
She made her way down the hall as she braced herself against the wall, pulling at the ribbons after she so hastely excused herself. She was at a loss for what to do as each knot seemed to pull tighter as she tried to loosen them. Why wouldn't they listen? Athanasta was just about to get her dagger out and start cutting when a voice told her to stop. This didn't sound like how Mihail normally spoke with her, it was... nicer? Asia paused in her pulling as she looked up at Mihail with tears in her eyes, his words about making it a bigger mess rang true, making her stop her pulling. "It really hurts. It is so tight, I just want.. I want to rip it all out just to stop this throbbing pain."
Mihail reminded her to be gentle and that she would possibly become bald if she pulled at her hair. With her eyes growing wide in horror she shook her head at that, Asia did NOT want to be bald. Looking up at him and his preoffered hand, she placed her trust in someone that normally seemed to always make fun of her, as she placed her hand in his own. Never having thought it possible, Asia leaned into her now rescuer as she let him lead the way. Never before had she ever even attempted to lean on anyone that wasn't her father or brothers, so this was new for Asia as she nodded her accptance. "Thank you, my lord. I won't ever forget this." Athanasia still had tears of pain in her eyes, but still she offered him a greatful smile. The one person she never expected to even listen, especially after it seemed like no one else did either, she was indeed filled with gratitude in that moment.
His words did not help Asia's growing headache, her ire from his snarky words mixing in with the pain of the knots upon her head. Silently she vowed to never let Ntanta near her with any sort of hair decorations for the next year, not until she practiced 100 times every day on her self or some other maid. Mihail's comment did earn him a side look that showed just what she thought of his comment. Asia's head was starting to throb as though Ntanta tried to force Athanasia to always have some kind of shocked look on her face, everything hurt.
Pulling one pin free, Asia could feel the small beginnings of relief as the pressure let up off of her scalp, even if there was a little blood involved. She was quick to dismiss Mihail and tell him that his sister was not around for the day, wanting to try and free herself from the mess on her head. Manners would have told her to stay and play the good hostess as her mother had taught her, but the pain made Asia's thoughts focus on escape. Escape from being seen, escape from the ribbons that wound through her hair like vines in tree branches, escape from the pain that bursted through her thoughts like a lightning bolt sent from Zues himself.
She made her way down the hall as she braced herself against the wall, pulling at the ribbons after she so hastely excused herself. She was at a loss for what to do as each knot seemed to pull tighter as she tried to loosen them. Why wouldn't they listen? Athanasta was just about to get her dagger out and start cutting when a voice told her to stop. This didn't sound like how Mihail normally spoke with her, it was... nicer? Asia paused in her pulling as she looked up at Mihail with tears in her eyes, his words about making it a bigger mess rang true, making her stop her pulling. "It really hurts. It is so tight, I just want.. I want to rip it all out just to stop this throbbing pain."
Mihail reminded her to be gentle and that she would possibly become bald if she pulled at her hair. With her eyes growing wide in horror she shook her head at that, Asia did NOT want to be bald. Looking up at him and his preoffered hand, she placed her trust in someone that normally seemed to always make fun of her, as she placed her hand in his own. Never having thought it possible, Asia leaned into her now rescuer as she let him lead the way. Never before had she ever even attempted to lean on anyone that wasn't her father or brothers, so this was new for Asia as she nodded her accptance. "Thank you, my lord. I won't ever forget this." Athanasia still had tears of pain in her eyes, but still she offered him a greatful smile. The one person she never expected to even listen, especially after it seemed like no one else did either, she was indeed filled with gratitude in that moment.
“It will hurt more if you continue at your current rate,” Mihail responded matter-of-factly, never one to cater for other people’s bursts of emotion (an irony, some might say). “You will make a larger mess, and then you will find yourself unable to untangle that, and you shall surely find yourself in a more frustrating cycle than Sisyphus himself.” Which, he found, was not exactly an ideal aspiration for most, and particularly not for a princess who likely aimed to express rather more positive attributes to her people. “I am quite certain it is salvageable, but you must have some degree of patience.” Patience was key to so many kinds of success, after all.
She was crying now, which did not quite appeal to the young Thanasi. He had never liked children. Most of the time, he found that they were sticky and irritating, and usually far too loud. Half the time, they would cry without reason or cause fusses that he simply did not want to handle. Nonetheless, it appeared that the dislike was not reciprocated, for most children seemed to find him inexplicably appealing. Athanasia was not quite a child any longer, but, with her budding tears, she might as well have been. The sight immediately irritated him — what was he meant to do with her tears? — but he was not so foolish as to let the frustration appear on his features. That would not do.
As she leaned against him, he took some time to scan over the mess she had made of her hair. Whatever the original stylist had done, it was not exactly the best, but she had not made so much of a mess that it could not be remedied. Waving away her thanks, the lord gestured vaguely in the direction of a passing servant, calling them over. “Fetch a ladies’ maid; I will need some assistance with this. Oh, and if you could send some wine to await us out in the garden, I would like to take the princess to relax there once this is all over. Do tell Dion that I regret being unable to visit him, but I brought him a lovely gift. I left it in the entrance hall.” Perhaps it was a little presumptuous to start ordering around the servants in the Kotas home, but Mihail felt that it was generally better to take control when needed. Nobody else was going to do so, after all.
When the woman arrived, he instructed her carefully as they removed misplaced pins and tangled knots. It was almost astounding how much of a mess had been made but, eventually, the uncomfortable mess was reasonably undone. A brush would have loosened it enough to fall perfectly over the girl’s shoulders once more. Perfect.
“You can go. Do not forget the wine,” he instructed, running fingers through Athanasia’s hair to loosen it somewhat and stepping before her once more. There. If only there was a mirror near them that would allow her to see the change, although it would certainly feel more comfortable despite not being entirely visible. “Do you feel better now? It only required a little...calmness and thoughtful reorganisation.”
Az
Mihail
Az
Mihail
Awards
First Impressions:Slim; Broken nose, piercing gaze, red-painted nails.
Address: Your His Lordship
“It will hurt more if you continue at your current rate,” Mihail responded matter-of-factly, never one to cater for other people’s bursts of emotion (an irony, some might say). “You will make a larger mess, and then you will find yourself unable to untangle that, and you shall surely find yourself in a more frustrating cycle than Sisyphus himself.” Which, he found, was not exactly an ideal aspiration for most, and particularly not for a princess who likely aimed to express rather more positive attributes to her people. “I am quite certain it is salvageable, but you must have some degree of patience.” Patience was key to so many kinds of success, after all.
She was crying now, which did not quite appeal to the young Thanasi. He had never liked children. Most of the time, he found that they were sticky and irritating, and usually far too loud. Half the time, they would cry without reason or cause fusses that he simply did not want to handle. Nonetheless, it appeared that the dislike was not reciprocated, for most children seemed to find him inexplicably appealing. Athanasia was not quite a child any longer, but, with her budding tears, she might as well have been. The sight immediately irritated him — what was he meant to do with her tears? — but he was not so foolish as to let the frustration appear on his features. That would not do.
As she leaned against him, he took some time to scan over the mess she had made of her hair. Whatever the original stylist had done, it was not exactly the best, but she had not made so much of a mess that it could not be remedied. Waving away her thanks, the lord gestured vaguely in the direction of a passing servant, calling them over. “Fetch a ladies’ maid; I will need some assistance with this. Oh, and if you could send some wine to await us out in the garden, I would like to take the princess to relax there once this is all over. Do tell Dion that I regret being unable to visit him, but I brought him a lovely gift. I left it in the entrance hall.” Perhaps it was a little presumptuous to start ordering around the servants in the Kotas home, but Mihail felt that it was generally better to take control when needed. Nobody else was going to do so, after all.
When the woman arrived, he instructed her carefully as they removed misplaced pins and tangled knots. It was almost astounding how much of a mess had been made but, eventually, the uncomfortable mess was reasonably undone. A brush would have loosened it enough to fall perfectly over the girl’s shoulders once more. Perfect.
“You can go. Do not forget the wine,” he instructed, running fingers through Athanasia’s hair to loosen it somewhat and stepping before her once more. There. If only there was a mirror near them that would allow her to see the change, although it would certainly feel more comfortable despite not being entirely visible. “Do you feel better now? It only required a little...calmness and thoughtful reorganisation.”
“It will hurt more if you continue at your current rate,” Mihail responded matter-of-factly, never one to cater for other people’s bursts of emotion (an irony, some might say). “You will make a larger mess, and then you will find yourself unable to untangle that, and you shall surely find yourself in a more frustrating cycle than Sisyphus himself.” Which, he found, was not exactly an ideal aspiration for most, and particularly not for a princess who likely aimed to express rather more positive attributes to her people. “I am quite certain it is salvageable, but you must have some degree of patience.” Patience was key to so many kinds of success, after all.
She was crying now, which did not quite appeal to the young Thanasi. He had never liked children. Most of the time, he found that they were sticky and irritating, and usually far too loud. Half the time, they would cry without reason or cause fusses that he simply did not want to handle. Nonetheless, it appeared that the dislike was not reciprocated, for most children seemed to find him inexplicably appealing. Athanasia was not quite a child any longer, but, with her budding tears, she might as well have been. The sight immediately irritated him — what was he meant to do with her tears? — but he was not so foolish as to let the frustration appear on his features. That would not do.
As she leaned against him, he took some time to scan over the mess she had made of her hair. Whatever the original stylist had done, it was not exactly the best, but she had not made so much of a mess that it could not be remedied. Waving away her thanks, the lord gestured vaguely in the direction of a passing servant, calling them over. “Fetch a ladies’ maid; I will need some assistance with this. Oh, and if you could send some wine to await us out in the garden, I would like to take the princess to relax there once this is all over. Do tell Dion that I regret being unable to visit him, but I brought him a lovely gift. I left it in the entrance hall.” Perhaps it was a little presumptuous to start ordering around the servants in the Kotas home, but Mihail felt that it was generally better to take control when needed. Nobody else was going to do so, after all.
When the woman arrived, he instructed her carefully as they removed misplaced pins and tangled knots. It was almost astounding how much of a mess had been made but, eventually, the uncomfortable mess was reasonably undone. A brush would have loosened it enough to fall perfectly over the girl’s shoulders once more. Perfect.
“You can go. Do not forget the wine,” he instructed, running fingers through Athanasia’s hair to loosen it somewhat and stepping before her once more. There. If only there was a mirror near them that would allow her to see the change, although it would certainly feel more comfortable despite not being entirely visible. “Do you feel better now? It only required a little...calmness and thoughtful reorganisation.”
Control and patience were not in Athanasia's repertoire of things that she was able to do, but she did try as she listened to Mihail's comments as he told her that she was going to make it worse. She couldn't imagine it being any worse than it already was. She had managed to find a pin or two to remove, but Lord Mihail was right, she was making it worse. Her head was throbbing now, the points where the hair pulled the hardest, she could imagine a mini horse just galloping around with the thump-thumps of its hooves. She plotted to burn all the ribbions and pins that her Ntanta just bought to avoid this mess again. The pain from the pulling and twisting had naturally caused her eyes to water, her urge to cry before made it worse even as she tried not too. She did stop pulling on it though, her hands dropping in defeat as she let Mihail guide her. He did seem like he wasn't going to make it worse, in fact, he even seemed to want to help her. Which was very different from what she has ever been told about the Thanasi family, even though Evras was really nice and Athanasia liked her as a sister-in-law, but she was always told that she was an exception. Were they wrong?
Watching as Mihail as he eyed her hair, she was comforted by his words that he thought it was salvageable, she would just need to be patient. In response, she nodded her accent, "Ok. I trust your judgement.. and thank you, Lord Mihail." Leaning against him, Athanasia let him lead her to wherever they were going, she assumed to sit but at this point she was of the mind that she wouldn't care if it got her hair loosened and the pain was gone. So she put her trust in him, listening as he ordered servants around to get a maid and wine, though now she knew they were going to the garden. It seemed like everyone was wrong about Mihail. He didn't seem cruel at all to Asia, in fact he seemed rather patient and kind even when she was about to loose her own patience moments earlier.
When the maid arrived the removal of the pins and ribbons were quickly done. It was much quicker than when Asia was trying, and as her hair loosened, she would likely compare it to bliss. Like when she goes swimming in the hidden streams in the forest, floating on the surface and completely relaxed. She didn't even notice the maid leave as she closed her eyes and enjoyed her hair being brushed through with fingers gently removing the knots. Nothing short of someone trying to kill her would get her to move now, the relief was heavenly. When he asked if she felt better, she nodded her agreement almost not wanting to break the sense of peace. "So much better. I admit the pain started to make me panic the more it started to make my head throb." Unconsiously her head leaned into what he was doing as he freed any hidden knots. "You were right. I just need to learn to be patient in everything and not just archery practice."
It wasn't long till an amphora was brought, filled with cooled wine and two goblets, and they headed over to a shaded corner of the garden. Now that her hair was free, Athanasia ran her own fingers over her scalp as she messaged the blood back into places that seemed slightly numb now, wincing at parts that the pins broke skin. When they sat down, Athanasia was quick to reach the amphora as she poured the glasses, handing Mihail his first before taking hers. "If you don't mind me asking, have you had hair mishaps before when you were younger, Lord Mihail?" Taking a sip of her wine, she looked down into her cup, seeing her reflection in the deep red brew. Her hair was wilder than usual around her face, making her tuck some strands behind her ears and flatten it. She looked like she had just been running around wild, though she did get into a fight with some ribbons so there was that. Wait, why did she care? Looking up quicky, she tried to keep her eyes now elsewhere.
Athene
Athanasia
Athene
Athanasia
Awards
First Impressions:Leggy; Warm, bronze-colored eyes; thick wavy hair & an easy smile.
Address: Your Royal Highness
Control and patience were not in Athanasia's repertoire of things that she was able to do, but she did try as she listened to Mihail's comments as he told her that she was going to make it worse. She couldn't imagine it being any worse than it already was. She had managed to find a pin or two to remove, but Lord Mihail was right, she was making it worse. Her head was throbbing now, the points where the hair pulled the hardest, she could imagine a mini horse just galloping around with the thump-thumps of its hooves. She plotted to burn all the ribbions and pins that her Ntanta just bought to avoid this mess again. The pain from the pulling and twisting had naturally caused her eyes to water, her urge to cry before made it worse even as she tried not too. She did stop pulling on it though, her hands dropping in defeat as she let Mihail guide her. He did seem like he wasn't going to make it worse, in fact, he even seemed to want to help her. Which was very different from what she has ever been told about the Thanasi family, even though Evras was really nice and Athanasia liked her as a sister-in-law, but she was always told that she was an exception. Were they wrong?
Watching as Mihail as he eyed her hair, she was comforted by his words that he thought it was salvageable, she would just need to be patient. In response, she nodded her accent, "Ok. I trust your judgement.. and thank you, Lord Mihail." Leaning against him, Athanasia let him lead her to wherever they were going, she assumed to sit but at this point she was of the mind that she wouldn't care if it got her hair loosened and the pain was gone. So she put her trust in him, listening as he ordered servants around to get a maid and wine, though now she knew they were going to the garden. It seemed like everyone was wrong about Mihail. He didn't seem cruel at all to Asia, in fact he seemed rather patient and kind even when she was about to loose her own patience moments earlier.
When the maid arrived the removal of the pins and ribbons were quickly done. It was much quicker than when Asia was trying, and as her hair loosened, she would likely compare it to bliss. Like when she goes swimming in the hidden streams in the forest, floating on the surface and completely relaxed. She didn't even notice the maid leave as she closed her eyes and enjoyed her hair being brushed through with fingers gently removing the knots. Nothing short of someone trying to kill her would get her to move now, the relief was heavenly. When he asked if she felt better, she nodded her agreement almost not wanting to break the sense of peace. "So much better. I admit the pain started to make me panic the more it started to make my head throb." Unconsiously her head leaned into what he was doing as he freed any hidden knots. "You were right. I just need to learn to be patient in everything and not just archery practice."
It wasn't long till an amphora was brought, filled with cooled wine and two goblets, and they headed over to a shaded corner of the garden. Now that her hair was free, Athanasia ran her own fingers over her scalp as she messaged the blood back into places that seemed slightly numb now, wincing at parts that the pins broke skin. When they sat down, Athanasia was quick to reach the amphora as she poured the glasses, handing Mihail his first before taking hers. "If you don't mind me asking, have you had hair mishaps before when you were younger, Lord Mihail?" Taking a sip of her wine, she looked down into her cup, seeing her reflection in the deep red brew. Her hair was wilder than usual around her face, making her tuck some strands behind her ears and flatten it. She looked like she had just been running around wild, though she did get into a fight with some ribbons so there was that. Wait, why did she care? Looking up quicky, she tried to keep her eyes now elsewhere.
Control and patience were not in Athanasia's repertoire of things that she was able to do, but she did try as she listened to Mihail's comments as he told her that she was going to make it worse. She couldn't imagine it being any worse than it already was. She had managed to find a pin or two to remove, but Lord Mihail was right, she was making it worse. Her head was throbbing now, the points where the hair pulled the hardest, she could imagine a mini horse just galloping around with the thump-thumps of its hooves. She plotted to burn all the ribbions and pins that her Ntanta just bought to avoid this mess again. The pain from the pulling and twisting had naturally caused her eyes to water, her urge to cry before made it worse even as she tried not too. She did stop pulling on it though, her hands dropping in defeat as she let Mihail guide her. He did seem like he wasn't going to make it worse, in fact, he even seemed to want to help her. Which was very different from what she has ever been told about the Thanasi family, even though Evras was really nice and Athanasia liked her as a sister-in-law, but she was always told that she was an exception. Were they wrong?
Watching as Mihail as he eyed her hair, she was comforted by his words that he thought it was salvageable, she would just need to be patient. In response, she nodded her accent, "Ok. I trust your judgement.. and thank you, Lord Mihail." Leaning against him, Athanasia let him lead her to wherever they were going, she assumed to sit but at this point she was of the mind that she wouldn't care if it got her hair loosened and the pain was gone. So she put her trust in him, listening as he ordered servants around to get a maid and wine, though now she knew they were going to the garden. It seemed like everyone was wrong about Mihail. He didn't seem cruel at all to Asia, in fact he seemed rather patient and kind even when she was about to loose her own patience moments earlier.
When the maid arrived the removal of the pins and ribbons were quickly done. It was much quicker than when Asia was trying, and as her hair loosened, she would likely compare it to bliss. Like when she goes swimming in the hidden streams in the forest, floating on the surface and completely relaxed. She didn't even notice the maid leave as she closed her eyes and enjoyed her hair being brushed through with fingers gently removing the knots. Nothing short of someone trying to kill her would get her to move now, the relief was heavenly. When he asked if she felt better, she nodded her agreement almost not wanting to break the sense of peace. "So much better. I admit the pain started to make me panic the more it started to make my head throb." Unconsiously her head leaned into what he was doing as he freed any hidden knots. "You were right. I just need to learn to be patient in everything and not just archery practice."
It wasn't long till an amphora was brought, filled with cooled wine and two goblets, and they headed over to a shaded corner of the garden. Now that her hair was free, Athanasia ran her own fingers over her scalp as she messaged the blood back into places that seemed slightly numb now, wincing at parts that the pins broke skin. When they sat down, Athanasia was quick to reach the amphora as she poured the glasses, handing Mihail his first before taking hers. "If you don't mind me asking, have you had hair mishaps before when you were younger, Lord Mihail?" Taking a sip of her wine, she looked down into her cup, seeing her reflection in the deep red brew. Her hair was wilder than usual around her face, making her tuck some strands behind her ears and flatten it. She looked like she had just been running around wild, though she did get into a fight with some ribbons so there was that. Wait, why did she care? Looking up quicky, she tried to keep her eyes now elsewhere.
Mihail was right. That was a frequent reality, he tended to find, and yet most did not seem to acknowledge it as a truth. He did not care much for those people for he already knew that he was far better than them. What did it matter if he remained unappreciated by the vulgar herd? At least that group did not appear to include Athanasia, for she was not only willing to trust him but able to admit openly that he was right about the hair. Of course, he had been. It was an easy thing to get right when somebody had as much experience with long and unruly hair as he.
He was quiet a while, waiting until they had taken their seats in the garden and the wine had been brought, taking a long sip from his goblet as he watched Athanasia. She was still massaging fingers through her hair, but she seemed better. Quite a lot less like she was in severe pain, at least.
“Archery is a rather valuable manner of learning patience,” he informed her, glad the topic had been brought up, for it was a subject in which he was rather more than solely well-versed. It was fortunate too that she had chosen to bring up the sport as her method of comparison, for he could discuss it at length and with a certain degree of knowledge that he could not apply to every topic. “As you are doubtless fully aware, it is a sport of discipline. You wait for the perfect moment, the perfect alignment, the perfect atmosphere before you shoot, yes? You do not run madly into it without consideration of outside factors, else you would never manage.” Mihail paused for a moment to enjoy another sip, absentmindedly watching the girl through his eyelashes to ensure that she was taking in his analogy. He did not find that he was often understood. “Hair is rather similar, though most things are when properly considered. Take your time. Do not rush in putting in or pulling out the pins nor in tugging out strands; wait until their alignment feels correct. You will find yourself in pain less often.”
It was a lesson for the future, and one that he hoped would stick in the princess’s mind. But the time for such things was later, and he did not want the conversation to linger endlessly on the troubles with her hair, else she would continue to focus on them and the pain would never go away. That was the unfortunate nature of pain, after all.
Her question was almost expected, and Mihail could not help but lift the corners of his mouth into an amused smile. “Oh, many a time,” he answered, a finger absentmindedly lifting to snag a stray curl and twirl it around. “I must have had hair as long as your own for a while, if not longer. Unlike you, however, I did not have the privilege of a lady’s maid to help me. I had to learn to fix nearly every mishap myself.” He shrugged, releasing the strand once more as he leaned back in his seat, a brief memory of short-cropped hair flashing momentarily through his mind before he physically pushed it aside and let a pleasant smile cross his features instead. “You are still young enough. You have time to learn, as does your maid.”
The Thanasi finished the last few dregs of hsi wine in an easy movement, then took the jug in hand to pour himself another, holding it out as if to question whether Athanasia wanted some more as well. “Now. Shall we move onto something more pleasant? How is your archery? I assume it must be excellent, after all, Dion’s is coming along rather well, and I can only suppose you must have had some input aside from my classes with him, no?”
Az
Mihail
Az
Mihail
Awards
First Impressions:Slim; Broken nose, piercing gaze, red-painted nails.
Address: Your His Lordship
Mihail was right. That was a frequent reality, he tended to find, and yet most did not seem to acknowledge it as a truth. He did not care much for those people for he already knew that he was far better than them. What did it matter if he remained unappreciated by the vulgar herd? At least that group did not appear to include Athanasia, for she was not only willing to trust him but able to admit openly that he was right about the hair. Of course, he had been. It was an easy thing to get right when somebody had as much experience with long and unruly hair as he.
He was quiet a while, waiting until they had taken their seats in the garden and the wine had been brought, taking a long sip from his goblet as he watched Athanasia. She was still massaging fingers through her hair, but she seemed better. Quite a lot less like she was in severe pain, at least.
“Archery is a rather valuable manner of learning patience,” he informed her, glad the topic had been brought up, for it was a subject in which he was rather more than solely well-versed. It was fortunate too that she had chosen to bring up the sport as her method of comparison, for he could discuss it at length and with a certain degree of knowledge that he could not apply to every topic. “As you are doubtless fully aware, it is a sport of discipline. You wait for the perfect moment, the perfect alignment, the perfect atmosphere before you shoot, yes? You do not run madly into it without consideration of outside factors, else you would never manage.” Mihail paused for a moment to enjoy another sip, absentmindedly watching the girl through his eyelashes to ensure that she was taking in his analogy. He did not find that he was often understood. “Hair is rather similar, though most things are when properly considered. Take your time. Do not rush in putting in or pulling out the pins nor in tugging out strands; wait until their alignment feels correct. You will find yourself in pain less often.”
It was a lesson for the future, and one that he hoped would stick in the princess’s mind. But the time for such things was later, and he did not want the conversation to linger endlessly on the troubles with her hair, else she would continue to focus on them and the pain would never go away. That was the unfortunate nature of pain, after all.
Her question was almost expected, and Mihail could not help but lift the corners of his mouth into an amused smile. “Oh, many a time,” he answered, a finger absentmindedly lifting to snag a stray curl and twirl it around. “I must have had hair as long as your own for a while, if not longer. Unlike you, however, I did not have the privilege of a lady’s maid to help me. I had to learn to fix nearly every mishap myself.” He shrugged, releasing the strand once more as he leaned back in his seat, a brief memory of short-cropped hair flashing momentarily through his mind before he physically pushed it aside and let a pleasant smile cross his features instead. “You are still young enough. You have time to learn, as does your maid.”
The Thanasi finished the last few dregs of hsi wine in an easy movement, then took the jug in hand to pour himself another, holding it out as if to question whether Athanasia wanted some more as well. “Now. Shall we move onto something more pleasant? How is your archery? I assume it must be excellent, after all, Dion’s is coming along rather well, and I can only suppose you must have had some input aside from my classes with him, no?”
Mihail was right. That was a frequent reality, he tended to find, and yet most did not seem to acknowledge it as a truth. He did not care much for those people for he already knew that he was far better than them. What did it matter if he remained unappreciated by the vulgar herd? At least that group did not appear to include Athanasia, for she was not only willing to trust him but able to admit openly that he was right about the hair. Of course, he had been. It was an easy thing to get right when somebody had as much experience with long and unruly hair as he.
He was quiet a while, waiting until they had taken their seats in the garden and the wine had been brought, taking a long sip from his goblet as he watched Athanasia. She was still massaging fingers through her hair, but she seemed better. Quite a lot less like she was in severe pain, at least.
“Archery is a rather valuable manner of learning patience,” he informed her, glad the topic had been brought up, for it was a subject in which he was rather more than solely well-versed. It was fortunate too that she had chosen to bring up the sport as her method of comparison, for he could discuss it at length and with a certain degree of knowledge that he could not apply to every topic. “As you are doubtless fully aware, it is a sport of discipline. You wait for the perfect moment, the perfect alignment, the perfect atmosphere before you shoot, yes? You do not run madly into it without consideration of outside factors, else you would never manage.” Mihail paused for a moment to enjoy another sip, absentmindedly watching the girl through his eyelashes to ensure that she was taking in his analogy. He did not find that he was often understood. “Hair is rather similar, though most things are when properly considered. Take your time. Do not rush in putting in or pulling out the pins nor in tugging out strands; wait until their alignment feels correct. You will find yourself in pain less often.”
It was a lesson for the future, and one that he hoped would stick in the princess’s mind. But the time for such things was later, and he did not want the conversation to linger endlessly on the troubles with her hair, else she would continue to focus on them and the pain would never go away. That was the unfortunate nature of pain, after all.
Her question was almost expected, and Mihail could not help but lift the corners of his mouth into an amused smile. “Oh, many a time,” he answered, a finger absentmindedly lifting to snag a stray curl and twirl it around. “I must have had hair as long as your own for a while, if not longer. Unlike you, however, I did not have the privilege of a lady’s maid to help me. I had to learn to fix nearly every mishap myself.” He shrugged, releasing the strand once more as he leaned back in his seat, a brief memory of short-cropped hair flashing momentarily through his mind before he physically pushed it aside and let a pleasant smile cross his features instead. “You are still young enough. You have time to learn, as does your maid.”
The Thanasi finished the last few dregs of hsi wine in an easy movement, then took the jug in hand to pour himself another, holding it out as if to question whether Athanasia wanted some more as well. “Now. Shall we move onto something more pleasant? How is your archery? I assume it must be excellent, after all, Dion’s is coming along rather well, and I can only suppose you must have had some input aside from my classes with him, no?”
Athanasia handed over the wine that she poured to Mihail before she ran her fingers over the still tender spots, a sharp sounding hissing that pulled between her teeth at the pain when she came across one of the scrapes that a pin gave her. It was going to be a long while before she let Ntanta near her hair again, it was going to be unbound or a simple braid from now on. Pausing long enough in her assessments, Athanasia took a sip of the wine before she admitted that he was indeed correct, and that she should have remembered that with her archery practice that she did every day. Patience was long gone from her mind when it shouldn't have been, and it was a slap to the face for Athanasia.
As Mihail commented that he agreed with her archery comparison, Asia ducked her head to hide her smile as she hid behind her hair. He seemed to like the topic that she chose as he continued on, his voice drawing her attention back to him. "I am still learning, but yes, discipline and not running around madly." Her cheeks flushed now at the memory of herself blindly pulling at her hair as she tried to get free. Like a trapped animal and how she blindly started to pull everything to get free. At that moment, Athanasia felt rather silly in her panic even if it was very painful. She should have been better than that. Once they took their first sips of the wine and Asia had soothed her tender scalp, Mihail started to speak. It was like he had given her a moment of calm, a moment that she appreciated as the talk shifted to archery.
Nodding her agreement to his assessment of archery being valuable for learning patience, "It is quiet, slow, even as it is lethal for the animal you hunt." Athanasia started to relax enough that she curled her legs under her before she took another drink, her attention fully on Mihail as he spoke. There was something that drew her in as she watched him, his demeanor showing absolute control in the fact that he knew what he was talking about. It was not like most of the guys that spoke to her, bolstering their own self-worth and claiming superior knowledge in areas that later was found that she was better than they were even at her young age.
'As you are doubtless fully aware, it is a sport of discipline. You wait for the perfect moment, the perfect alignment, the perfect atmosphere before you shoot, yes? You do not run madly into it without consideration of outside factors, else you would never manage.' Athanasia listened intently, nodding her agreement when he paused long enough to see if she was listening and understanding him. "Yes, because if you rush you will miss your target. Rushing causes mistakes." It was a lesson that was drilled into her since she was 7 and first received her bow from her brother Zanon. It was one of the first lessons she learned, if you rushed, someone could get hurt. Meeting his gaze as she listened, Asia found herself almost mimicking him as she took another sip of her own wine, it was clear that he had her full attention as she listened to him. Again, she found that his logic was sound and sure as he spoke on the same patience being used for hair and to not rush with things. For a moment, she wondered if she should have someone make her Ntanta take lessons on patience. Or maybe keep her from any latest fashion looks. Either one would work for Asia.
Athanasia found herself in a far better mood now than when Lord Mihail had found her before, it wasn't something she expected since she hardly got to see the man outside of passing greetings or group events. Asia rather liked this quiet moment as they talked over wine. It made her feel rather more mature and grown up, that was for sure. Finding herself relaxing around him, Athanasia dared to ask if he had his own hair catastrophes, smiling when she saw that he smiled in amusement.
Asia watched as he admitted that he did, playing with one of the stray curls that crowned his head. She was tempted to see if she could play with the curls, finding their springiness amusing as it jumped back into place when he let it go. "I can imagine what a hassle that must have been, my Lord. Though at the same time, if something hurts, you could stop it instead of being told to sit still." Now that the pain was nothing but a fading memory as long as she didn't touch her scalp, Asia smiled and wondered how that would be. "I wish I could have seen it longer, I bet it made you appear like you would have been more at home on Mount Olympus." Wrapping both her palms around the goblet, she took a sip before she leaned back in her chair and looked at some of the flowers for a moment as he spoke of her being young and would learn. She was still young, always young. Would she ever be considered mature? Sure, she avoided any of the suitors that come to call ever since she turned 15, but did that make her too young still?
Mihail moved to fill his cup, making her eyes snap back to his as all thoughts of being possibly too young and maturity faded from her mind. Somehow he seemed to have a way of commanding the attention with only a glance and polite gesture as he silently asked if Asia would like more wine. Did she? Looking down at the cup in her hands quickly, she saw to her shock that it was empty. When did that happen? Nodding, she leaned foreward quickly while her hands still cupped around the body of the glass as if she were holding a bowl, her cheeks turning pink as she watched the red liquid fill the vessel swiftly. "Yes, please. Thank you, Lord Mihail." Her free hair fell around her face as she looked down at the red liquid in the cup, wondering why she felt so.... flustered.
Mihail's change in the subject was swift, distracting her from her sudden shyness as she met his gaze again and smiled. His compliment about her archery being excellent because Dion was doing well, had her blushing in pride now. "Yes, archery is always a good subject to talk about. I would like to think my archery is going well. I am now moving on to moving targets since I have gotten really good at hitting the mark right in the middle from really far away. To be honest, Dion is a natural, everyone is really impressed with his skills. I can see him becoming unbeatable when he grows up and has had more training and experience. I remember him telling me you were teaching him." Taking a long drink of the cool wine, she had to take a pause for a moment, not wanting to sound like a twit. "He is lucky to have a teacher like you, my Lord. You have taught him well, from what I have seen. How long have you been practicing archery, Lord Mihail? If you do not mind me asking?"
Athene
Athanasia
Athene
Athanasia
Awards
First Impressions:Leggy; Warm, bronze-colored eyes; thick wavy hair & an easy smile.
Address: Your Royal Highness
Athanasia handed over the wine that she poured to Mihail before she ran her fingers over the still tender spots, a sharp sounding hissing that pulled between her teeth at the pain when she came across one of the scrapes that a pin gave her. It was going to be a long while before she let Ntanta near her hair again, it was going to be unbound or a simple braid from now on. Pausing long enough in her assessments, Athanasia took a sip of the wine before she admitted that he was indeed correct, and that she should have remembered that with her archery practice that she did every day. Patience was long gone from her mind when it shouldn't have been, and it was a slap to the face for Athanasia.
As Mihail commented that he agreed with her archery comparison, Asia ducked her head to hide her smile as she hid behind her hair. He seemed to like the topic that she chose as he continued on, his voice drawing her attention back to him. "I am still learning, but yes, discipline and not running around madly." Her cheeks flushed now at the memory of herself blindly pulling at her hair as she tried to get free. Like a trapped animal and how she blindly started to pull everything to get free. At that moment, Athanasia felt rather silly in her panic even if it was very painful. She should have been better than that. Once they took their first sips of the wine and Asia had soothed her tender scalp, Mihail started to speak. It was like he had given her a moment of calm, a moment that she appreciated as the talk shifted to archery.
Nodding her agreement to his assessment of archery being valuable for learning patience, "It is quiet, slow, even as it is lethal for the animal you hunt." Athanasia started to relax enough that she curled her legs under her before she took another drink, her attention fully on Mihail as he spoke. There was something that drew her in as she watched him, his demeanor showing absolute control in the fact that he knew what he was talking about. It was not like most of the guys that spoke to her, bolstering their own self-worth and claiming superior knowledge in areas that later was found that she was better than they were even at her young age.
'As you are doubtless fully aware, it is a sport of discipline. You wait for the perfect moment, the perfect alignment, the perfect atmosphere before you shoot, yes? You do not run madly into it without consideration of outside factors, else you would never manage.' Athanasia listened intently, nodding her agreement when he paused long enough to see if she was listening and understanding him. "Yes, because if you rush you will miss your target. Rushing causes mistakes." It was a lesson that was drilled into her since she was 7 and first received her bow from her brother Zanon. It was one of the first lessons she learned, if you rushed, someone could get hurt. Meeting his gaze as she listened, Asia found herself almost mimicking him as she took another sip of her own wine, it was clear that he had her full attention as she listened to him. Again, she found that his logic was sound and sure as he spoke on the same patience being used for hair and to not rush with things. For a moment, she wondered if she should have someone make her Ntanta take lessons on patience. Or maybe keep her from any latest fashion looks. Either one would work for Asia.
Athanasia found herself in a far better mood now than when Lord Mihail had found her before, it wasn't something she expected since she hardly got to see the man outside of passing greetings or group events. Asia rather liked this quiet moment as they talked over wine. It made her feel rather more mature and grown up, that was for sure. Finding herself relaxing around him, Athanasia dared to ask if he had his own hair catastrophes, smiling when she saw that he smiled in amusement.
Asia watched as he admitted that he did, playing with one of the stray curls that crowned his head. She was tempted to see if she could play with the curls, finding their springiness amusing as it jumped back into place when he let it go. "I can imagine what a hassle that must have been, my Lord. Though at the same time, if something hurts, you could stop it instead of being told to sit still." Now that the pain was nothing but a fading memory as long as she didn't touch her scalp, Asia smiled and wondered how that would be. "I wish I could have seen it longer, I bet it made you appear like you would have been more at home on Mount Olympus." Wrapping both her palms around the goblet, she took a sip before she leaned back in her chair and looked at some of the flowers for a moment as he spoke of her being young and would learn. She was still young, always young. Would she ever be considered mature? Sure, she avoided any of the suitors that come to call ever since she turned 15, but did that make her too young still?
Mihail moved to fill his cup, making her eyes snap back to his as all thoughts of being possibly too young and maturity faded from her mind. Somehow he seemed to have a way of commanding the attention with only a glance and polite gesture as he silently asked if Asia would like more wine. Did she? Looking down at the cup in her hands quickly, she saw to her shock that it was empty. When did that happen? Nodding, she leaned foreward quickly while her hands still cupped around the body of the glass as if she were holding a bowl, her cheeks turning pink as she watched the red liquid fill the vessel swiftly. "Yes, please. Thank you, Lord Mihail." Her free hair fell around her face as she looked down at the red liquid in the cup, wondering why she felt so.... flustered.
Mihail's change in the subject was swift, distracting her from her sudden shyness as she met his gaze again and smiled. His compliment about her archery being excellent because Dion was doing well, had her blushing in pride now. "Yes, archery is always a good subject to talk about. I would like to think my archery is going well. I am now moving on to moving targets since I have gotten really good at hitting the mark right in the middle from really far away. To be honest, Dion is a natural, everyone is really impressed with his skills. I can see him becoming unbeatable when he grows up and has had more training and experience. I remember him telling me you were teaching him." Taking a long drink of the cool wine, she had to take a pause for a moment, not wanting to sound like a twit. "He is lucky to have a teacher like you, my Lord. You have taught him well, from what I have seen. How long have you been practicing archery, Lord Mihail? If you do not mind me asking?"
Athanasia handed over the wine that she poured to Mihail before she ran her fingers over the still tender spots, a sharp sounding hissing that pulled between her teeth at the pain when she came across one of the scrapes that a pin gave her. It was going to be a long while before she let Ntanta near her hair again, it was going to be unbound or a simple braid from now on. Pausing long enough in her assessments, Athanasia took a sip of the wine before she admitted that he was indeed correct, and that she should have remembered that with her archery practice that she did every day. Patience was long gone from her mind when it shouldn't have been, and it was a slap to the face for Athanasia.
As Mihail commented that he agreed with her archery comparison, Asia ducked her head to hide her smile as she hid behind her hair. He seemed to like the topic that she chose as he continued on, his voice drawing her attention back to him. "I am still learning, but yes, discipline and not running around madly." Her cheeks flushed now at the memory of herself blindly pulling at her hair as she tried to get free. Like a trapped animal and how she blindly started to pull everything to get free. At that moment, Athanasia felt rather silly in her panic even if it was very painful. She should have been better than that. Once they took their first sips of the wine and Asia had soothed her tender scalp, Mihail started to speak. It was like he had given her a moment of calm, a moment that she appreciated as the talk shifted to archery.
Nodding her agreement to his assessment of archery being valuable for learning patience, "It is quiet, slow, even as it is lethal for the animal you hunt." Athanasia started to relax enough that she curled her legs under her before she took another drink, her attention fully on Mihail as he spoke. There was something that drew her in as she watched him, his demeanor showing absolute control in the fact that he knew what he was talking about. It was not like most of the guys that spoke to her, bolstering their own self-worth and claiming superior knowledge in areas that later was found that she was better than they were even at her young age.
'As you are doubtless fully aware, it is a sport of discipline. You wait for the perfect moment, the perfect alignment, the perfect atmosphere before you shoot, yes? You do not run madly into it without consideration of outside factors, else you would never manage.' Athanasia listened intently, nodding her agreement when he paused long enough to see if she was listening and understanding him. "Yes, because if you rush you will miss your target. Rushing causes mistakes." It was a lesson that was drilled into her since she was 7 and first received her bow from her brother Zanon. It was one of the first lessons she learned, if you rushed, someone could get hurt. Meeting his gaze as she listened, Asia found herself almost mimicking him as she took another sip of her own wine, it was clear that he had her full attention as she listened to him. Again, she found that his logic was sound and sure as he spoke on the same patience being used for hair and to not rush with things. For a moment, she wondered if she should have someone make her Ntanta take lessons on patience. Or maybe keep her from any latest fashion looks. Either one would work for Asia.
Athanasia found herself in a far better mood now than when Lord Mihail had found her before, it wasn't something she expected since she hardly got to see the man outside of passing greetings or group events. Asia rather liked this quiet moment as they talked over wine. It made her feel rather more mature and grown up, that was for sure. Finding herself relaxing around him, Athanasia dared to ask if he had his own hair catastrophes, smiling when she saw that he smiled in amusement.
Asia watched as he admitted that he did, playing with one of the stray curls that crowned his head. She was tempted to see if she could play with the curls, finding their springiness amusing as it jumped back into place when he let it go. "I can imagine what a hassle that must have been, my Lord. Though at the same time, if something hurts, you could stop it instead of being told to sit still." Now that the pain was nothing but a fading memory as long as she didn't touch her scalp, Asia smiled and wondered how that would be. "I wish I could have seen it longer, I bet it made you appear like you would have been more at home on Mount Olympus." Wrapping both her palms around the goblet, she took a sip before she leaned back in her chair and looked at some of the flowers for a moment as he spoke of her being young and would learn. She was still young, always young. Would she ever be considered mature? Sure, she avoided any of the suitors that come to call ever since she turned 15, but did that make her too young still?
Mihail moved to fill his cup, making her eyes snap back to his as all thoughts of being possibly too young and maturity faded from her mind. Somehow he seemed to have a way of commanding the attention with only a glance and polite gesture as he silently asked if Asia would like more wine. Did she? Looking down at the cup in her hands quickly, she saw to her shock that it was empty. When did that happen? Nodding, she leaned foreward quickly while her hands still cupped around the body of the glass as if she were holding a bowl, her cheeks turning pink as she watched the red liquid fill the vessel swiftly. "Yes, please. Thank you, Lord Mihail." Her free hair fell around her face as she looked down at the red liquid in the cup, wondering why she felt so.... flustered.
Mihail's change in the subject was swift, distracting her from her sudden shyness as she met his gaze again and smiled. His compliment about her archery being excellent because Dion was doing well, had her blushing in pride now. "Yes, archery is always a good subject to talk about. I would like to think my archery is going well. I am now moving on to moving targets since I have gotten really good at hitting the mark right in the middle from really far away. To be honest, Dion is a natural, everyone is really impressed with his skills. I can see him becoming unbeatable when he grows up and has had more training and experience. I remember him telling me you were teaching him." Taking a long drink of the cool wine, she had to take a pause for a moment, not wanting to sound like a twit. "He is lucky to have a teacher like you, my Lord. You have taught him well, from what I have seen. How long have you been practicing archery, Lord Mihail? If you do not mind me asking?"
“Yes, rushing causes mistakes,” Mihail repeated in easy agreement. It was a well-known fact among archers, and he was glad the analogy had been accepted with so few problems. It did make things far less complicated when people understood what he meant without further need for elaboration, for though he found archery to be a fine teacher of patience, he did not always find that he had patience for stupidity and did not like to repeat himself. Athanasia seemed the sort who would struggle to understand some of his finer points — there was undoubtedly a certain naiveté about her character — but she had proved herself otherwise, and that was a satisfying note in itself.
He sipped his second drink thoughtfully as she commented on the supposed attractiveness of his longer hair. It had been...something special to him but, even he, so frightful of cutting it for years upon years, had one day come to the conclusion that it was easier to do so. At least he had the privilege now of maintaining it to a length of his choosing that edged perfectly between the realities of male and female so that, no matter how he felt at any which time, he knew he looked gorgeous. And, more importantly, he could look that way without the fear of punishment and without finding a hand roughly grabbing his hair and practically ripping it from his scalp.
The finger tangled in his curls pulled away then, the gaze that had stared thoughtfully past her shifting back into position. “Oh, I doubt it was as wonderful as all that. I might have adored it, but it was likely a nightmare for everybody else — the staff, at least.” Besides, Mihail had been rather difficult about those little aspects of his appearance that mattered so much over the past few years, and he knew his fusses frustrated the staff from time to time. “Still, I suppose you are correct. There were certain pleasures in it.”
Archery was an easier topic than hair, if partially because it did not bring forth so many unpleasant memories. He had begun practising the delightful sport only a few days after mother had died, and her existence did not taint any of his thoughts on the subject, which it ideal. There was nothing he enjoyed more, for it passed time ideally, and he was more than happy to discuss the subject with anybody who appreciated it similarly.
Mihail nodded at Athanasia’s description of her own archery abilities, taking a long sip of his drink and moving to tuck his legs beneath him and shift into a more comfortable position. “Moving targets?” he queried, though the words were mostly rhetorical. He could remember his own proud shift to moving targets, wonderful as he had considered it at the time and almost insignificant as it felt now that he had progressed even further. “I am impressed. Perhaps one day we should have a match.” Though he was mildly certain it would not be the fairest of competitions when one of them clearly possessed more experience than the other, but there was no fault in the suggestion. “Dion has rather taken to it, yes. I am more than proud to educate him. He is making great headway in our sessions for his young age. He is rather on par with where I was at his age.” And it was lucky that the boy had obtained such an excellent tutor by virtue of their relationship, even though his royal name could likely have obtained any other fine archer in the kingdom (though it was unlikely any of them would have been as skilled as his current tutor). “But, thank you. I am glad that my tutelage has served him so well. He will make a fine specimen of a man.”
“I have been practising for fourteen years now. I will admit that I am rather pedantic about my practise — three hours a morning each day.” The Thanasi shrugged half-thoughtfully, as though this were not a fairly excessive amount of exercise. He did not have much else with which to occupy his time, after all, bar those fancies that he had always enjoyed. “It is my favoured part of the day, in reality. I find it excessively relaxing, do you not? The repetition of the act is utterly calming, and I do appreciate that nobody bothers me during that time. It gives me a chance to be alone with my thoughts when the rest of the household is not often yet awake.”
Az
Mihail
Az
Mihail
Awards
First Impressions:Slim; Broken nose, piercing gaze, red-painted nails.
Address: Your His Lordship
“Yes, rushing causes mistakes,” Mihail repeated in easy agreement. It was a well-known fact among archers, and he was glad the analogy had been accepted with so few problems. It did make things far less complicated when people understood what he meant without further need for elaboration, for though he found archery to be a fine teacher of patience, he did not always find that he had patience for stupidity and did not like to repeat himself. Athanasia seemed the sort who would struggle to understand some of his finer points — there was undoubtedly a certain naiveté about her character — but she had proved herself otherwise, and that was a satisfying note in itself.
He sipped his second drink thoughtfully as she commented on the supposed attractiveness of his longer hair. It had been...something special to him but, even he, so frightful of cutting it for years upon years, had one day come to the conclusion that it was easier to do so. At least he had the privilege now of maintaining it to a length of his choosing that edged perfectly between the realities of male and female so that, no matter how he felt at any which time, he knew he looked gorgeous. And, more importantly, he could look that way without the fear of punishment and without finding a hand roughly grabbing his hair and practically ripping it from his scalp.
The finger tangled in his curls pulled away then, the gaze that had stared thoughtfully past her shifting back into position. “Oh, I doubt it was as wonderful as all that. I might have adored it, but it was likely a nightmare for everybody else — the staff, at least.” Besides, Mihail had been rather difficult about those little aspects of his appearance that mattered so much over the past few years, and he knew his fusses frustrated the staff from time to time. “Still, I suppose you are correct. There were certain pleasures in it.”
Archery was an easier topic than hair, if partially because it did not bring forth so many unpleasant memories. He had begun practising the delightful sport only a few days after mother had died, and her existence did not taint any of his thoughts on the subject, which it ideal. There was nothing he enjoyed more, for it passed time ideally, and he was more than happy to discuss the subject with anybody who appreciated it similarly.
Mihail nodded at Athanasia’s description of her own archery abilities, taking a long sip of his drink and moving to tuck his legs beneath him and shift into a more comfortable position. “Moving targets?” he queried, though the words were mostly rhetorical. He could remember his own proud shift to moving targets, wonderful as he had considered it at the time and almost insignificant as it felt now that he had progressed even further. “I am impressed. Perhaps one day we should have a match.” Though he was mildly certain it would not be the fairest of competitions when one of them clearly possessed more experience than the other, but there was no fault in the suggestion. “Dion has rather taken to it, yes. I am more than proud to educate him. He is making great headway in our sessions for his young age. He is rather on par with where I was at his age.” And it was lucky that the boy had obtained such an excellent tutor by virtue of their relationship, even though his royal name could likely have obtained any other fine archer in the kingdom (though it was unlikely any of them would have been as skilled as his current tutor). “But, thank you. I am glad that my tutelage has served him so well. He will make a fine specimen of a man.”
“I have been practising for fourteen years now. I will admit that I am rather pedantic about my practise — three hours a morning each day.” The Thanasi shrugged half-thoughtfully, as though this were not a fairly excessive amount of exercise. He did not have much else with which to occupy his time, after all, bar those fancies that he had always enjoyed. “It is my favoured part of the day, in reality. I find it excessively relaxing, do you not? The repetition of the act is utterly calming, and I do appreciate that nobody bothers me during that time. It gives me a chance to be alone with my thoughts when the rest of the household is not often yet awake.”
“Yes, rushing causes mistakes,” Mihail repeated in easy agreement. It was a well-known fact among archers, and he was glad the analogy had been accepted with so few problems. It did make things far less complicated when people understood what he meant without further need for elaboration, for though he found archery to be a fine teacher of patience, he did not always find that he had patience for stupidity and did not like to repeat himself. Athanasia seemed the sort who would struggle to understand some of his finer points — there was undoubtedly a certain naiveté about her character — but she had proved herself otherwise, and that was a satisfying note in itself.
He sipped his second drink thoughtfully as she commented on the supposed attractiveness of his longer hair. It had been...something special to him but, even he, so frightful of cutting it for years upon years, had one day come to the conclusion that it was easier to do so. At least he had the privilege now of maintaining it to a length of his choosing that edged perfectly between the realities of male and female so that, no matter how he felt at any which time, he knew he looked gorgeous. And, more importantly, he could look that way without the fear of punishment and without finding a hand roughly grabbing his hair and practically ripping it from his scalp.
The finger tangled in his curls pulled away then, the gaze that had stared thoughtfully past her shifting back into position. “Oh, I doubt it was as wonderful as all that. I might have adored it, but it was likely a nightmare for everybody else — the staff, at least.” Besides, Mihail had been rather difficult about those little aspects of his appearance that mattered so much over the past few years, and he knew his fusses frustrated the staff from time to time. “Still, I suppose you are correct. There were certain pleasures in it.”
Archery was an easier topic than hair, if partially because it did not bring forth so many unpleasant memories. He had begun practising the delightful sport only a few days after mother had died, and her existence did not taint any of his thoughts on the subject, which it ideal. There was nothing he enjoyed more, for it passed time ideally, and he was more than happy to discuss the subject with anybody who appreciated it similarly.
Mihail nodded at Athanasia’s description of her own archery abilities, taking a long sip of his drink and moving to tuck his legs beneath him and shift into a more comfortable position. “Moving targets?” he queried, though the words were mostly rhetorical. He could remember his own proud shift to moving targets, wonderful as he had considered it at the time and almost insignificant as it felt now that he had progressed even further. “I am impressed. Perhaps one day we should have a match.” Though he was mildly certain it would not be the fairest of competitions when one of them clearly possessed more experience than the other, but there was no fault in the suggestion. “Dion has rather taken to it, yes. I am more than proud to educate him. He is making great headway in our sessions for his young age. He is rather on par with where I was at his age.” And it was lucky that the boy had obtained such an excellent tutor by virtue of their relationship, even though his royal name could likely have obtained any other fine archer in the kingdom (though it was unlikely any of them would have been as skilled as his current tutor). “But, thank you. I am glad that my tutelage has served him so well. He will make a fine specimen of a man.”
“I have been practising for fourteen years now. I will admit that I am rather pedantic about my practise — three hours a morning each day.” The Thanasi shrugged half-thoughtfully, as though this were not a fairly excessive amount of exercise. He did not have much else with which to occupy his time, after all, bar those fancies that he had always enjoyed. “It is my favoured part of the day, in reality. I find it excessively relaxing, do you not? The repetition of the act is utterly calming, and I do appreciate that nobody bothers me during that time. It gives me a chance to be alone with my thoughts when the rest of the household is not often yet awake.”
