Vangelis was late. This was not an uncommon happenstance for him. Whether it was the passage of his ship stealing away the hours he should have had on land or the never-ending duties he saw to once there, he was almost always late for events that were considered less important. Personally, Vangelis did not consider familial obligations such as birthday celebrations as unimportant but his collective roles as Crown Prince, Baron and Head of House - not to mention his work as an active General in the military - help the majority vote that social encounters were to shift to the bottom of his list of responsibilities.

Ergo, for matters of kinship or social attendances, Vangelis of Kotas was always late.

Finally finished with a meeting with his steward of Chaossis, Vangelis washed and dressed with speedy efficiency and then left the Kotas manor with all haste. His soldiers - guards that by right and by birth were expected to follow him wherever he went were close at hand but Vangelis dismissed them upon reaching the gates of the Drakos' archontiko. A military family second only to his own, Vangelis held no fears of danger within the walls of his aunt's domain. Whilst he generally felt no fear regardless, it was a decent enough excuse to see his armed shadows forced into the background. Dressed in a full-length chiton, Vangelis was careful as he dismounted and then adjusted the himation that draped over one shoulder. The fabric had been dyed black but turned festive with threads of gold and scarlet. Gold in favour of the Drakos colours and red for celebration. As always, his sword was belted to his waist and daggers adorned his ankles, strapped to the sides of his sandals.

At over six foot, Vangelis was a towering monster of a man and it took him only a few strides to cover the open courtyard before the estate. The doors were opened at his approach, his face known to the servants and guards. Beyond it, there was no difficulty in finding the location of the party. One of the Drakos' largest dining halls was lit with warm and balmy light, their walls tinted orange by the hearth fires. The sound of voices; chatter and laughter, mingled in the air to form the general buzz of joyful conversation.

Spotting the servant by the door and his immediate jump to attention, Vangelis raised a hand to stall him. Given his tardiness, he had no interest in making a spectacle of himself by being formally announced. He would simply slip inside with - he hoped - minimal notice. The look of consternation on the man's face, awkward and yet unable to deter a royal, was almost amusing. Vangelis would have to ensure that his aunt didn't punish the man for laxing in his duties. She ran a tight ship within her family's walls and he could wel understand the servant's concerns.

Stepping into the wide chamber, Vangelis was not so unnoticed as he might have hoped. His height, his breadth, his general presence was enough to turn a few sets of eyes but, luckily, the wine had been pouring for some time and most were libated enough to become so deeply engrossed in conversation that they noticed little else.

Noticing a regal blonde, gowned in gold and copper tones, Vangelis moved around the walls of the room until he was in line with his aunt.

"You will forgive my tardiness, Aunt Tythra." He said when there was a suitable lull in her conversation with nearby nobles. He placed a hand to his chest and bowed his head in respect. Woman or no, Tythra of Drakos was her own force to be reckoned with and he greatly respected his father's sister.

"Is that an order, Prince Vangelis or a request?" Tythra asked, her lips curling to one side and her head tilting in inquisition. Her eyes shone bright with clever mirth.

"It is whatever would least offend."

His aunt laughed, her mouth now pulling into a true smile and reaching up to place a kiss upon his cheek.

"Wise words, nephew. Have you made your apologies to the central character this evening?"

Vangelis could only shake his head.

"Not as yet, Aunt. I shall seek her out now and hope that I am not left inches shorter than I started."

"I would not count on it." Tythra called after him as Vangelis headed into the crowd.

Inwardly, he rolled his eyes to himself. Imeeya was well known for having inherited her mother's sharp mind and she had a tongue with far less restraint. What she might say to see her cousin arriving late to her celebrations, he did not know. Then again, she was also a woman on the brink of a baroness position and well-versed in matters of responsibility. Perhaps his lack of promptness would be excused if he explained that it only occurred through the line of duty.

When Vangelis finally spotted Imeeya, it was clear why she had been masked from view. Her back half against a wall and her front assaulted by a looming gentleman of fine garb and smarmy good-looks, she was almost entirely hidden from view. Vangelis only caught sight of her because he was tall enough to see over her unwanted guest's shoulder to the golden hair beyond.

Frowning, Vangelis moved closer...

'...I said, enough. I'm done with this, how could I make this any clearer?'

...Vangelis' scowl deepened.

Appearing at the man's shoulder, Vangelis' voice was dark and harrowing as he answered Imeeya, despite her words being directed at the man between them.

"You have no need to make your words clearer, cousin." He announced. "Lord Martius is an intelligent man and knows well the risks of disobeying a request from royalty."

The words held Vangelis' years of etiquette training but the deadly edge to his tone and the way his hand rested upon the hilt of his sword read a violence that was far from royal or dignified.

Vangelis was used to the diminishing effect his presence had upon the lord. He viewed it with the simplicity of fact, not hubris of self. He was well aware that the fear in the eyes of others had more to do with his physical scale and his might as a firstborn prince than it did his personal traits or successes. What was there to feel prideful over when the reactions were part of his birth?

He would be lying, however, if Vangelis tried to claim a lack of any feeling as the lord, pink in cheek and hurried in step, hastened away. He might not have felt a smug satisfaction in his achievement of frightening the man but he could certainly enjoy the liberation it gave to his cousin. Frightening as he himself was, Vangelis would never approve of male might being used against feminine softness. It was the work of a coward to scare your women into submission or wear down their resolve through attrition of attention.

As Imeeya suggested his fine character reference to be an act of polite goodness, Vangelis' lips pressed thin. He knew that she spoke in jest but he felt no mirth at the restrictions his position brought upon his words. He had wished to speak far more bluntly to the man that now hurried towards the nearest chalice of wine. Yet, his upbringing and his family name had not afforded him the freedom to do so. Imeeya pointing this out only served to stoke the flames of irritation.

"Hmm," he muttered noncommittally.

When they were both assured that Imeeya's unwanted admirer was out of earshot and they were permitted a little privacy to their conversation, Imeeya spoke again. This time, she commented upon his arrival and presence at her birthday celebration was beyond what she might have expected. Vangelis could only agree. He had hardly prophecized to be rescuing his more than capable cousin from the attentions of a drunken suitor.

He cast an eye upon Imeeya, noting the slight blush to her cheeks and the glow to her eyes. She was not truly drunk, but it was clear that she was mildly intoxicated on the fine wine that his aunt had brought out for the occasion. Perhaps this was her taking the uncommon chance to let her hair down or mayhaps she had just been ignorant of Tythra's selection of beverage being stronger than the norm. Either way, it was rare to see Imeeya without her full wits about her.

"Nor I you, cousin mine," he replied, his gaze shrewd. "I would think you more than capable of seeing to your own eager suitors. Normally, I'd not consider myself necessary as your defender." He glanced towards the momentary glimpse of the lord seen between the shoulders of others. "Was this an eventual conclusion of his persistence or your weakness?"

Vangelis could watch the emotions upon his cousin's face. Gratitude and thankfulness; a little relief as the source of tension was removed from her close proximity... It was all replaced with a little hurt and suspicion as Vangelis mentioned her 'weakness'. Clearly, he had ruffled some feathers. Not that he had intended to. Vangelis felt himself sigh internally, mentally take a moment to depress and accept that social chatter was not and would never be one of his skills.

Despite not being a fan of wine and drinking himself, Vangelis was not the sort to judge others for doing so - particularly his family. The words had only left his mouth because of his concern for Imeeya's safety and his desire to hunt down her over-interested admirer to deliver a little more than an angry scowl. His sense of justice simply required his cousin to confirm that it was the lord's persistence that was at fault and not Imeeya's own drinking. He would feel bad if he were to beat up a man who had been led along by a young girl that had had too much wine. Even if that girl was his cousin.

"I meant no offence, cousin," Vangelis eventually managed. "I was merely assessing the situation and encouraging you to ease on the wine. You are too important to too many to allow yourself to fall into a dangerous situation for the sake of a little libation. Water tastes just as well."

Again, Vangelis' advice was delivered with a bluntness that successfully avoided any sense of tact. But the words were meant all the same. Vangelis could only hope that they had come across well.

"I have no intention of lecturing," he added, just to be safe. "You are smart enough to make your own choices. You understand that, if I did not speak my thoughts, I would not be able to look your mother in the eye should something happen..." This last was accompanied by a slight curling at the corner of his mouth. It was the closest Vangelis ever got to a smile and showed a sense of humour amongst the truth of his words. When Imeeya clearly stopped sipping from her cup, however, Vangelis dropped the topic of conversation.

"I only meant to come and wish you a pleasant birthday," Vangelis said, offering a little bow of respect to the woman at the centre of the festivities. "And perhaps to seek guidance on a gift. I believe it is customary and yet have no knowledge of what would please?"