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As Athanasia moved around the room to get things ready while her Ntanta worked on Aea's hair. Athanasia remembered earlier that morning when she showed up at her home, the look in Aea's eyes was a story untold and one that Asia was unsure Aea was willing to tell. Asia would not push her though, instead she pulled her inside and the day has been a flurry of getting cleaned up and fed. She remembered how much Aea ate of the rabbits, so she made sure to have the cook make both breakfast and lunch large enough that it could feed her brothers easily. When Aea's hair was fully dry, was when Ntanta started her brushing. Today had been a fun day so far with her fun as they ate and talked. Athanasia was pulled from the memory when Aea jumped at a snag, drawing her attention. 'Forgive me,' she said quietly to Ntanta and Athanasia smiled. Nothing to forgive, dear. I apologize, that one was hiding from me.' Ntanta had replied just as quietly. One thing that Aea could not see was her smile, if there was one thing that Athanasia's Ntanta loved, it was taking care of people. That was why she was a Ntanta. It was an old argument when Asia tries to find out her name, not even her own mater would tell her as she stated, 'Your Ntanta doesn't want you to know her name yet till you're older.' It was an old argument and one that Asia had given up on trying to find out. One day, when Athanasia is older and married and Ntanta doesn't view her as one of her charges, she planned to learn her real name and planned to pay her back for all her kindness. She really was a great one, patient as a mountain... most days.
Her own smile grew as Aea leaned back and relaxed as Ntanta continued brushing. Aea's hair caught the light similar to water at night as the strands smoothed out. It gave Asia a chance to take in the girl's features as she was relaxed and serene under Ntanta's skilled bushings as she moved around her. Athanasia knew that if Ntanta kept brushing, she could very well put Aea to sleep, but sadly they had things to do this night. If she takes up her offer, maybe they could find that out one night to see if she would be able to relax enough to fall asleep to her hair being brushed. Asia knew that she succumbed to it many times growing up. She couldn't be the only one, right? Aea drew her attention again when she suddenly tensed a little, biting her lip. Did Ntanta find another knot? Looking over at the older woman, she shook her head, knowing what Athanasia's question was. There were no more knots in Aea's hair that got snagged. This knot was something that Aea would have to work through herself, unless she asked for help. The silence broke as Ntanta declared, 'There. All done.' and moved Aea's hair over her shoulder so she could see it and admire just how silky smooth and soft her hair was compared to the wild mane she had before. Not that it was crazy or fizzy before, but before one might mistake her for one of the legendary amazonians. A fierce warrior who would take down anyone on sight.
Standing back in front of her, it was easy to see what style would suit her face and stay out of her eyes before moving back around. After advising Ntanta on what style, things seemed to move quickly from there before Athanasia handed Aea the red silk fabric as she offered her opinion on what she thought would look best. If Aea didn't want it, Asia would not have forced it though. So as she moved about and gathered things up that they would need once they were dressed completely, Athanasia paused as Aea spoke. 'I think I know nothing of complexions, nor whatever an exomie style is, but that I trust your judgement in matters of aesthetic.' Her smile softened as she moved before Aea, "And I thank you for your trust." Those words were loaded, meaning so much more than just a thank you for the style trust, she knew that if Aea didn't trust her at all, she wouldn't have been there at all. "Pin the cloth here, on your left shoulder. If you leave some fabric hanging around your arm, it will almost give it a look of a chiton, but on one shoulder. That is only if you would like, if you prefer chiton or a peplos style, I can get you more pins." Athanasia gave Aea a true smile as she pointed to her left shoulder, her eyes showing her that she meant every word and took no offense to any of it. "It really is your choice, no one will force you to do anything you do not want to do. If they even try, they will meet my fist, if they don't meet yours first." The last bit was Athanasia's attempt to make Aea smile or even chuckle a bit, even as she meant it. No one will hurt her friend, not if she could help it. "If you need any help, do not be afraid to ask." Leaving her to get dressed, Athanasia went to get dressed herself as she has a little smile on her face. For a moment, Athanasia almost wanted to call her sister, but she didn't. Was that the bond that she felt?
-
When Aea emerged from the room, Asia smiled when she saw how the red really seemed to warm her color, like Aea had a fire burning deep within her. She was an ember from Hephaestus' forge burning bright and hot. Asia could see Aea becoming not only an unstoppable weapon, but also an impenetrable shield, to whomever she deemed worthy to protect. She was going to be formidable. As she watched Aea come closer, Athanasia wondered why she opened up to her so quickly that night in the cave. Wondered why she offered her protection that night without a second thought. She could not think why other than she felt a connection with Aea. Athanasia honestly could not answer why she felt a bond with this girl, but it was there, almost from the moment they first met. Athanasia could see a lot of herself in Aea but also a lot that wasn't the same, it was nice. Though who would have thought that they would go from Asia pointing her weapon and almost killing Aea, to now having her here in her home, and wanting her to stay. Thinking back, she was smiling at how different Aea was now. She went from a hesitant stranger who didn't believe she was a princess but a hermit, to a babbling silly girl once she realized that she was a princess, to now being so calm and normal like they were in the cave. Such a change over time. Same goes for looks too, from dirt covered and thread bared clothes to clean and silk. It was like Aea was different, but the same. It reminded Athanasia of when she would change her looks into a boy to just hide among the people and not be noticed. Light and dark. So when she stated that Aea looked beautiful, Asia was surprised by her response, 'Said the dawn to the dusk' both were beautiful and incomparable in her opinion, also fitting with what she was thinking. 'I feel like myself, I suppose. Though I daresay much less brown than usual. And, of course, less armed.' Aea's response to Athanasia's question, made her smile while nodding her own agreement as she gathered up the olive oil and charcoal mix. "I can understand that one too, I hated not being able to keep my blades on me at the festival." Directing her friend to the seat, Asia began her work on the eyeliner with a smooth precision of practiced ease.
It still amazed her, thinking back to that morning and how much trust Aea had shown in Athanasia, after she found out exactly who she was at the festival the day before. Asia was not even sure she would have come after the festival and their talk in the temple, at least not as soon as that morning. When a guard came to tell her that a girl was there to see her, saying that she was invited, Athanasia almost didn't believe him. That was until he said her name, to which Athanasia ordered him in a voice that she did not use often to bring her there as quickly as possible. She still remembered the shock on the guard's face, Athanasia wasn't usually known for using any kind of authoritative tone on anyone. She was sure gossip was spreading, but she didn't care at that time. She was not going to turn Aea out, no matter how troubled her friend seemed, and certainly not over any stupid gossip as Aea was rushed to Athanasia's room. The first thing she did when she saw her friend was to take her hands and pull her to a seat. The previous evening they talked like they did in the cave, this time with lots more food and drinks while they hid from the crowds in the temple. It wasn't until the sun had set long past and the moon was high, when the priestess kicked them out, and Athanasia said goodnight to Aea. So when Aea showed up this morning, Athanasia pulled her in without even questioning it. Some might wonder why she didn't even question Aea, but Athanasia knew that she would tell her, in her own time. Drawing the smooth black lines over Aea's closed eyelids, Athanasia thought back to some of her funnier tales, making her giggle before she moved onto the other eyelid.
Athanasia was smiling as Aea seemed to sense it and match her smile with her own before she asked, 'Should I even ask?' as Asia blew gently upon her eyelids. "Well, I was just thinking about some of our talk yesterday. That was all." The smile was clear in her voice as she spoke. When she was finished, Asia could utter only one word that was most fitting for Aea, and that was beautiful. Turning the bronzed mirror toward her, she left her to take a look at herself and see just how beautiful she was. She could tell that Aea did not seem to trust mirrors, seeing how she stared at them like she could not believe what she was seeing. So for a moment, Asia placed her head on Aea's shoulder so they both looked in the mirror together, smiling at her friend's reflection. If she didn't believe the mirror, maybe she believed her eyes? "Don't doubt what you see, you are beautiful. Even if you compare dusk and dawn, they both are beautiful in their ways. One is more golden and wild and the other is fire in the sky and calm. Both equal in beauty, just different in how. They are balanced that way." As she spoke, she gave Aea a smile once she said that the skies were balanced, thinking that that kind of fit them well. Leaving Aea to think about what she said, Athanasia turned to finish getting ready. This was new to Athanasia, to have someone that isn't instantly fawning or trying to win her over, just someone who is there and treating her like Asia. Someone for Asia to truly treat like a friend. For some of the talks they have had so far, the comments that slip in, they remind her of her brothers so much that Athanasia started to wonder if Aea was her sister in another life.
Handing over the leathers to Aea, Asia ran her fingers over the cool metal of her dagger handle, feeling the rubies smooth but bump against her fingertips. This was hard to leave it behind, her gift from her pater. Athanasia let out a soft sigh before she tucked her beloved dagger at the bottom of a drawer to keep it safe. It was truly weird when she did not have it upon her person. She hated it, almost like having to leave her chitons or her wrappings behind, such an important thing that Asia felt almost naked without it. Her security. At least she could wear her ring that her brother gave her, so that was something. Moving to put up all the bracelets and rings up that she offered for Aea to wear, she was smiling because Aea refused it all and put on her own dagger and scabbard, 'if you strap it between your thighs, the only way anybody could guess is if they dared let their hands venture there.' She shook her head to Aea's suggestion though, knowing she meant her own dagger she just put away, "While I would love to and I agree that no one would check there, but my family knows me way to well. If I need one that badly, I'm dead anyways, right?" Did that sound kind of on the prideful arrogant side? Yes it did, but Asia was using it as a joke since she knew that there was bound to be cutlery there and she liked to think she could use any blade with relative ease. Though watching Ntanta freeze did have Athanasia let out the most unlady-like snort as she tried not to laugh, which earned her a slap from the woman, that made Asia laugh even harder as she tried to dodge the next hit. "Honestly though, we should be ok, this is just dinner. Most times, the most dangerous thing someone would need to worry about is choking or flying food." Then Athanasia thought about it, "Or people flirting with you thinking you will let them seduce you." Asia shivered at the thought.
It was time to head out, they were as ready as they were going to be and after seeing Aea get her rolls of skins in hand, Athanasia made sure to grab her bag before she laced her arm through Aea's as they left for the carriage. It was a new feeling, having someone that was not one of her brothers to go to a party or a dinner or some stately affair with, maybe this dinner wouldn't be as boring as she thought it was originally destined to be. She had worried that she would have been stuck between either her brothers or some other nobles that she wanted nothing to do with. The thought of nobles brought to mind one in particular but was dismissed just as quick, he was sure to be gone by now. It was a good thing that she would now have a friend there to talk with, someone who would be able to talk about pretty much anything and everything. She did not have to watch what she said with her, only watch who heard it. Seeing some of the servants pass, the looks they gave Aea made Asia grin that she was correct in her assessment. Good, the more people that looked and agreed, the less argument Aea could give her if she ever decides to disagree. Athanasia could already tell her friend didn't quite feel like she was as eye-catching as she was.
Ntanta followed them out into the hall, trailing after the girls with the plan to stop once they reached the door to bid them a safe journey to the dinner. Athanasia was used to it, Ntanta was like her mother's extra hands when she was not around as she grew up and even now when she was being especially troublesome. So when Aea suggested that she would take her rowing sometime, Athanasia gave her a smile back, "That does sound like a fun idea. We should go in the next couple of days." It was then that Aea's cheek was pressed against her own, making her almost freeze even as she still moved in step with her friend as she listened to her quiet whispers. Athanasia was not used to anyone being in her space like that, and yet somehow she did not hate it, so she was about to whisper back when suddenly door swings open and a large body just steps out and bumps right into Aea, almost knocking the both of them over before Aea shoved him away from them. The move was hard enough to knock the pair of them apart and Athanasia watched as Aea almost instantly jumped in a defensive position, her stance wide as she pinned him to the wall. Athanasia would have stopped her if she drew a blade, but something stopped Aea and made her pull away quickly, so Asia kept quiet as she watched to see how her brother would charm his way out of this mess.
'You ought to be careful where you step.' Athanasia stood there with her arms now crossed over her chest, as she watched the scene before her unfold as Yiannis looked between her and Aea, giving Yiannis a grin that said that she was leaving him to get out of his own fumble as she silently laughed at him when Aea wasn't looking. She was enjoying watching him get sniped at by Aea and at this moment she was guessing Aea was wishing she could hit Yiannis even as she kept her voice sounding somewhat polite, which Athanasia was keen on learning from her new friend. When Yiannis had bumped into them, Aea moved without even thinking. She just instantly went on the defensive and faced what she saw as a threat. Looking at her stance and how she adjusted in a split moment, how she spoke, Asia was remembering it all for future plans. Looking over at Yiannis though, she did have to nod her agreement when Aea pointed out the red he already had on, he didn't need more otherwise mater might yell at him for either being late or coming to her party with blood on him. 'It would have been a shame to knock you over and ruin such a pretty chiton. Or worse. I think you've enough red on, don't you?' Athanasia could not see Aea's face but she could see Yiannis' and the nervous grin had her snicker softly as she let them continue 'I most certainly should,' he said. Though she was tempted to smack him as she watched him try to wave her back so he could have his moment to flirt with her friend, Athanasia gave him the sweetest of smiles as she scrunched her nose at him while she shook her head no. She stayed right where she was as he fumbled through his conversation with Aea. She watched as her brother moved the loosened strand of hair from Aea's face, wondering just what he was planning. 'I thought I heard someone I knew, and grew so excited I left my senses. I hope you can forgive me.' Athanasia watched as her brother attempted to make his move while she shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose, she waited for the sound of a slap. She was surprised that it never came. 'Strange you should say you knew my voice, for I was the only one speaking.' Aea's tone was still calm, her voice almost sounded like she was smiling, but Asia couldn't see her face. 'Had we met for the first time, I’m certain I would recognize you now.' She was standing there watching the pair, her brother acting like a love-sick puppy had her grinning and Aea not fighting him or shoving him away. When Aea looked back at Athanasia, all she could do was do an over exaggerated eye roll. Showing Aea that there was nothing to worry about other than possibly annoying.
She was sure her brother possibly caught her expression when he looked at her right as he spoke, 'Oh, that took me a moment. You're tremendously clever.' It was always so weird to watch her brothers flirt with anyone. She knew it was normal and that they were grown men, but it was still weird. 'Unfortunately, tremendous cleverness could not save me from such an incredibly strong opponent,' Aea responded before giving Yiannis a shove, her tone sounding light. Was she.. was she flirting back? 'Not many people can withstand such a shove. And you moved not an inch. I take that as a challenge to try again sometime. Preferably outside, with a blade, and while I am looking at you.' Athanasia was about to say something when her brother spoke up, backtracking just slightly to the bump. 'I hope you are all right. My name is Yiannis, and if you would allow me the opportunity to make up for my lack of judgement by joining your escort, I would be grateful.' he said, giving his best smile before he looked over at Athanasia. She knew that look and she would play along for this moment, but not for too long. This made the whole evening worth it, if nothing else happened tonight, this made it all worth it in Athanasia's opinion as Yiannis fumbled along. 'Yiannis,' Athanasia could hear Aea test out his name, wondering if she remembered. 'I’ve not heard such a name before. I’m—' And that answered that question. 'You’re the one that’s going to have a bruise come morning, not I. Naturally, you’ll have to ask the princess if you can come, seeing as I have no carriage, and she does. Even though she never moved from where she was, she smiled when he introduced himself, it still amazed her how he was the one that she was most like with the mischievous air, so her playful grin is told often that it looks similar to his. Mischievous. Playful. Hidden depths to what the true intention really was. Athanasia learned from the best, she was in effect, a combination of her brothers' teachings. He was lucky he was her brother and that she loved him, otherwise she wouldn't have stayed silent to his wordless request. So when Aea said that she never heard the name Yiannis before, Athansia's smile grew as she realized that her friend had so thoroughly ruled out that she was telling the truth, that she forgot all else that Asia told her. 'Late,' Aea blurted out, Asia had missed her forgetting her own name as well, as she turned to Asia, we’re exceedingly late, your majesty. Athanasia smiled at her friend, knowing she wanted to leave more than anything. Yiannis threw out his offer again with a touch of guilt added in to try and get them to comply. 'If that would be all right, of course. I don't want to intrude.' Athanasia remembered their games, but this was a tad different. With Aea, Asia was planning to play the long game and not just a short run. She was playing for keeps, if she could convince her to stay by her side. This was going to be a very interesting dinner, indeed. Athanasia left the choice up to mostly up to Aea, smiling when she knew Aea wanted her to say no, but where was the fun in that when he would be there anyways? "If the Lady does not mind, neither do I." This was going to be a very interesting dinner, indeed. Athanasia left the choice up to mostly up to Aea, smiling when she knew Aea wanted her to say no, but where was the fun in that when he would be there anyways?
Lacing her arm again through Aea's after she snatched the grapes up, she looked back at Yiannis and smiled, "You can follow behind us on your horse, brother. We girls have our private talks and plannings to do, you know?" With such a statement Athanasia did three things; first was to allow her brother to escort them, two kept him out of the carriage so Aea can have some peace, and three let Aea know that he was her brother. As she told Aea to eat, her friend's comment about being even more intimidating had her giggling "Well, that is not a bad thing to be intimidating, you know. You would be completely unstoppable then. Could you imagine, people just knowing who you are by sight from the stories they told?" Athanasia smiled after she said that as she teased her friend a little, almost as if she was sharing a private inside thought that only she knew and that she liked the sound of. Which wasn’t a far off dream of hers, if Athanasia had her way of things. Looking behind her, she could see Yiannis following, turning only slightly to mount the horse that was saddled for him. Asia gave him a sisterly smile that showed how much she loved bugging him even as she loved him being home. It was nice he was here and hopefully he did not have to leave again. Stepping into the carriage, they took leave for the dinner, Aea making sure to get Agogos and the sight of him made Asia smile. He was still a healthy looking bird. If Ara stayed with her, she would need to have a perch made for him, some leathers for Aea so she didn't get gouged every time he gripped onto her. Things Asia stored away for future thoughts as they rumbled on down the way. Athanasia was flighty and spontaneous oftentimes, but she was oftentimes playing what some would call a long game of chess, making moves and making things happen. Some were for fun, others were to test the waters, times like moments ago were happy happenstances that she looks at as luck. The more she knew of Aea, the more she saw that her gut instinct was right about her.
While in the carriage, Athanasia and Aea were quiet as the breeze drifted in through the open windows, relaxing and peaceful. Athanasia knew she probably didn't need to remind Aea to behave, but she did, and her response 'It is you I worry for. Running through the woods in the moonlight. Hunting. Positively atrocious behavior, you know. It’s far more dignified to walk slowly and eat the game others hunt in your stead.' had Asia laughing softly. "Yes, you are probably right, but where is the fun in that?" She liked having her freedoms, and if she didn't, she never would have met Aea. Seeing her today and her reactions to new environments, her reaction when Yiannis ran into her, everything had her thinking about her next move if and once Aea accepts her offer to become a retainer. Athanasia had much more in mind for her and she was going to call in all her brothers' help for it if she agreed. Especially Vangelis, his training would be tough and take time.
The carriage stopped, signalling their arrival and Asia looked over at Aea, “You ready? Just remember, you are one of mine and under my protection. No one will touch you, not if they wish to keep their fingers.” Asia said. She meant it too, if she had to fight the two kings of the other nations, she would. The only ones she might have trouble with would be her parents and brothers. This was Colchis though, and she was it's princess, she would protect what she deemed hers. So when Aea replied 'If I am yours and under your protection, then you are mine and under my protection too. And should anybody touch me, I’ll not have you intervene on my behalf. I like your own fingers right where they are.' Meeting her gaze without blinking or looking away, Athanasia smiled. "Together then." She knew it and she liked being right. Before she started to get overly proud of herself, Asia proposed a game, giving Aea a look that she knew she would understand. 'Athanasia, you cannot possibly be serious.' Which only made Athanasia's smile grow as she shared her plan without even saying a word. “Now, are you ready to go inside with me, Lady Nightingale?”
Just like that, the door was opened and Athanasia could see everything slide into place as Aea replied in a completely different accent, 'I am, your royal highness, though I do think you should beat that clumsy Greek tongue of yours until it can produce the correct pronunciation the gods gifted my forbearers. I suppose Lady Aidoni will do for now.' Oh the game was so on, tonight was going to be interesting indeed. "I do apologize to you Lady Aidoni, I will do my best to work on that." Once they were both out of the carriage, they made their way to the entrance of the Dikastirio. It was not a quiet walk as there were people milling around, both drunk and commoners alike. Here, Athanasia only stopped a moment as she avoided the drunken souls, making her way to the much smaller beings that hid in the corner. In Asia's bag, she often had coins in the event that she might see something she wants, or if she sees moments like the scrawny little children in front of her. Taking out a handful of obols, she gave the kids 5 each, knowing it would be enough to buy food for a couple days at least. Looking around to make sure no one saw her, one could never be to cautious when drunks were around, she placed a finger to her lips in a quiet *shhhh* motion for the kids to be quiet before heading up the rest of the way with Aea. Athanasia wasn't gone long but she could already see how Aea was starting to act like the very lady she was now said to be, with her chin high and almost regal, she should do just fine. It was like another persona took over her friend as she assumed a role of a visitor that was not familiar with grecian customs. It was an amazing sight to see. Aea had moved away from her and disappeared from sight, Athanasia wasn't worried though waited for her friend, it wasn't long before she appeared from behind one of the columns after having only been gone for only a moment.
Athanasia and Aea made their way down the long hall to the room where everyone would be sitting, it did not surprise her when the guard stopped them for Aea's sword. If only they knew, Asia might not have her blade on her, but after watching Aea today she was sure the two of them would be formidable opponents even without weapons. For a moment she wondered if Aea would even give up the sword, possibly stating that she was guarding or needed it for safety or something along those lines, but she surprised Asia again. Athanasia was taking notes on how Aea assessed situations and took the time to read people in an instant. She would be very good one day, if not the best for what Asia has planned. Now to just have it all come into fruition, but that won't happen unless Aea agrees to becoming her retainer. While Aea took the time to remove the sword, Asia looked behind them, and smiled when she saw her brother finally seeming to catch up to them.
Giving Yiannis a look, she put her finger to her lips to tell him to keep quiet, she wanted to see how long it would take Aea to notice him and his quiet steps. All day, Athanasia has become more and more impressed with her new friend's skills. She knew she made the right choice when she decided to trust her that fateful day and chose to lead her to her secret hidden cave that night. Athanasia was seldom wrong in reading people and their intentions, and the times that she is wrong is what makes her so cautious now, but with Aea it was such a strong gut feeling almost like the gods were nudging her along to tell her to keep going. She knew she couldn't stop him for long, he had his own weapons to surrender as well, if he had any. It was something unavoidable since this was in celebration of peace and he was a royal that was invited as well, so Aea would just have to take deep breaths and push through it. Although, she did have to admit that it almost looked like something might have been there between those two, when he tried to shoo her back from them. It was a small thing, but almost like a spark of a possibility.
That would be something Athanasia would try and figure out later though as they moved well ahead of her brother coming in, making her smile at his slowness at the moment. *Gotta be quicker Yiannis, run!* Though it wasn’t long till he caught up as they entered the dining area and she knew he heard the faux accent now as Aea spoke ’My friend, you'll have to tell me how it is your people arrange their places around these...what is the word for bord in your tongue? Tablette, no?’ Athanasia was all smiles but her tone was completely serious as if she truly was guiding a foreign dignitary around that did not understand their customs. “Well yes, we call it a table, though a board works too since it is just a flat piece of wood with wooden legs to lift it from the ground. I am sure you will find it more than adequate for you to use during your visit.” She was the absolute picture of what a hostess should be for a guest, just like her mater when she holds parties and how she will more than likely be tonight, if she isn’t dragging Athanasia to her room to lock her in it for the rest of her breathing days. At least she could say that she showed good manners. Looking around, she could see the two very long tables set up with chairs, this wasn't going to be the usual lounging affair and relaxing. This was telling her that she had to be on her best behavior, this was a formal dinner in its entirety. Which she had an idea of but she still held out some hope. Spotting Vangelis, she moved over towards that table.
As she walked further in, Athanasia noted that others were already there, and she tentatively took a seat with Aea while they waited for her mater to arrive. Looking over at Aea, she motioned to the small wine vessel, “Would you like some wine?” She poured a glass for herself and Aea before settling in to see what happens next. She could smell the food cooking from somewhere as it travelled through the air, making Asia’s stomach rumble in demand. She was hungry. To distract herself, she started to pay attention to the people around her. As she looked across from her, she saw a pretty blonde girl that Athanasia thought looked slightly familiar. She was wearing a white dress that looked so pretty with its beadwork and the diamonds in place. She looked like she belonged on Olympus and not sitting next to her older brother, who seemed to be at a loss for words as well. When she spoke to Vangelis, Athanasia giggled as they waited for his response. After a moment she smiled, "Hello, don't mind my brother, he is broody often. Right, Vangelis?" She gave her brother the sweetest smile just as their brother Yiannis finally found his seat next to them. Pointing between everyone, Athanasia introduced everyone. "My name is Athanasia, by the way, though you may call me Asia. This is Yiannis, my brother. And this is Lady Aidoni. She is a foreign visitor who happens to be passing through and I am her guide and new friend." Athanasia pointed to Vangelis, "I am going to assume you know Vangelis?" Asia was all smiles as she remembered the sarcasm in her voice as she spoke to him. She knew this girl was going to be good for Vangelis, as long as she could get him to talk. Athanasia's mind was already plotting ways, what fun it would be to drive her brothers crazy as she tries to matchmake them. Looking over at Aea, she smiled as she wondered what she was thinking now that they were sitting. Looking around, she noted a few others that seemed to filter in and mill about, but she didn't see her mater or pater just yet. Athanasia took a sip from her glass as she thought about it, wondering what her next step shall be.
Athene
Athanasia
Athene
Athanasia
Awards
First Impressions:Leggy; Warm, bronze-colored eyes; thick wavy hair & an easy smile.
Address: Your Royal Highness
As Athanasia moved around the room to get things ready while her Ntanta worked on Aea's hair. Athanasia remembered earlier that morning when she showed up at her home, the look in Aea's eyes was a story untold and one that Asia was unsure Aea was willing to tell. Asia would not push her though, instead she pulled her inside and the day has been a flurry of getting cleaned up and fed. She remembered how much Aea ate of the rabbits, so she made sure to have the cook make both breakfast and lunch large enough that it could feed her brothers easily. When Aea's hair was fully dry, was when Ntanta started her brushing. Today had been a fun day so far with her fun as they ate and talked. Athanasia was pulled from the memory when Aea jumped at a snag, drawing her attention. 'Forgive me,' she said quietly to Ntanta and Athanasia smiled. Nothing to forgive, dear. I apologize, that one was hiding from me.' Ntanta had replied just as quietly. One thing that Aea could not see was her smile, if there was one thing that Athanasia's Ntanta loved, it was taking care of people. That was why she was a Ntanta. It was an old argument when Asia tries to find out her name, not even her own mater would tell her as she stated, 'Your Ntanta doesn't want you to know her name yet till you're older.' It was an old argument and one that Asia had given up on trying to find out. One day, when Athanasia is older and married and Ntanta doesn't view her as one of her charges, she planned to learn her real name and planned to pay her back for all her kindness. She really was a great one, patient as a mountain... most days.
Her own smile grew as Aea leaned back and relaxed as Ntanta continued brushing. Aea's hair caught the light similar to water at night as the strands smoothed out. It gave Asia a chance to take in the girl's features as she was relaxed and serene under Ntanta's skilled bushings as she moved around her. Athanasia knew that if Ntanta kept brushing, she could very well put Aea to sleep, but sadly they had things to do this night. If she takes up her offer, maybe they could find that out one night to see if she would be able to relax enough to fall asleep to her hair being brushed. Asia knew that she succumbed to it many times growing up. She couldn't be the only one, right? Aea drew her attention again when she suddenly tensed a little, biting her lip. Did Ntanta find another knot? Looking over at the older woman, she shook her head, knowing what Athanasia's question was. There were no more knots in Aea's hair that got snagged. This knot was something that Aea would have to work through herself, unless she asked for help. The silence broke as Ntanta declared, 'There. All done.' and moved Aea's hair over her shoulder so she could see it and admire just how silky smooth and soft her hair was compared to the wild mane she had before. Not that it was crazy or fizzy before, but before one might mistake her for one of the legendary amazonians. A fierce warrior who would take down anyone on sight.
Standing back in front of her, it was easy to see what style would suit her face and stay out of her eyes before moving back around. After advising Ntanta on what style, things seemed to move quickly from there before Athanasia handed Aea the red silk fabric as she offered her opinion on what she thought would look best. If Aea didn't want it, Asia would not have forced it though. So as she moved about and gathered things up that they would need once they were dressed completely, Athanasia paused as Aea spoke. 'I think I know nothing of complexions, nor whatever an exomie style is, but that I trust your judgement in matters of aesthetic.' Her smile softened as she moved before Aea, "And I thank you for your trust." Those words were loaded, meaning so much more than just a thank you for the style trust, she knew that if Aea didn't trust her at all, she wouldn't have been there at all. "Pin the cloth here, on your left shoulder. If you leave some fabric hanging around your arm, it will almost give it a look of a chiton, but on one shoulder. That is only if you would like, if you prefer chiton or a peplos style, I can get you more pins." Athanasia gave Aea a true smile as she pointed to her left shoulder, her eyes showing her that she meant every word and took no offense to any of it. "It really is your choice, no one will force you to do anything you do not want to do. If they even try, they will meet my fist, if they don't meet yours first." The last bit was Athanasia's attempt to make Aea smile or even chuckle a bit, even as she meant it. No one will hurt her friend, not if she could help it. "If you need any help, do not be afraid to ask." Leaving her to get dressed, Athanasia went to get dressed herself as she has a little smile on her face. For a moment, Athanasia almost wanted to call her sister, but she didn't. Was that the bond that she felt?
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When Aea emerged from the room, Asia smiled when she saw how the red really seemed to warm her color, like Aea had a fire burning deep within her. She was an ember from Hephaestus' forge burning bright and hot. Asia could see Aea becoming not only an unstoppable weapon, but also an impenetrable shield, to whomever she deemed worthy to protect. She was going to be formidable. As she watched Aea come closer, Athanasia wondered why she opened up to her so quickly that night in the cave. Wondered why she offered her protection that night without a second thought. She could not think why other than she felt a connection with Aea. Athanasia honestly could not answer why she felt a bond with this girl, but it was there, almost from the moment they first met. Athanasia could see a lot of herself in Aea but also a lot that wasn't the same, it was nice. Though who would have thought that they would go from Asia pointing her weapon and almost killing Aea, to now having her here in her home, and wanting her to stay. Thinking back, she was smiling at how different Aea was now. She went from a hesitant stranger who didn't believe she was a princess but a hermit, to a babbling silly girl once she realized that she was a princess, to now being so calm and normal like they were in the cave. Such a change over time. Same goes for looks too, from dirt covered and thread bared clothes to clean and silk. It was like Aea was different, but the same. It reminded Athanasia of when she would change her looks into a boy to just hide among the people and not be noticed. Light and dark. So when she stated that Aea looked beautiful, Asia was surprised by her response, 'Said the dawn to the dusk' both were beautiful and incomparable in her opinion, also fitting with what she was thinking. 'I feel like myself, I suppose. Though I daresay much less brown than usual. And, of course, less armed.' Aea's response to Athanasia's question, made her smile while nodding her own agreement as she gathered up the olive oil and charcoal mix. "I can understand that one too, I hated not being able to keep my blades on me at the festival." Directing her friend to the seat, Asia began her work on the eyeliner with a smooth precision of practiced ease.
It still amazed her, thinking back to that morning and how much trust Aea had shown in Athanasia, after she found out exactly who she was at the festival the day before. Asia was not even sure she would have come after the festival and their talk in the temple, at least not as soon as that morning. When a guard came to tell her that a girl was there to see her, saying that she was invited, Athanasia almost didn't believe him. That was until he said her name, to which Athanasia ordered him in a voice that she did not use often to bring her there as quickly as possible. She still remembered the shock on the guard's face, Athanasia wasn't usually known for using any kind of authoritative tone on anyone. She was sure gossip was spreading, but she didn't care at that time. She was not going to turn Aea out, no matter how troubled her friend seemed, and certainly not over any stupid gossip as Aea was rushed to Athanasia's room. The first thing she did when she saw her friend was to take her hands and pull her to a seat. The previous evening they talked like they did in the cave, this time with lots more food and drinks while they hid from the crowds in the temple. It wasn't until the sun had set long past and the moon was high, when the priestess kicked them out, and Athanasia said goodnight to Aea. So when Aea showed up this morning, Athanasia pulled her in without even questioning it. Some might wonder why she didn't even question Aea, but Athanasia knew that she would tell her, in her own time. Drawing the smooth black lines over Aea's closed eyelids, Athanasia thought back to some of her funnier tales, making her giggle before she moved onto the other eyelid.
Athanasia was smiling as Aea seemed to sense it and match her smile with her own before she asked, 'Should I even ask?' as Asia blew gently upon her eyelids. "Well, I was just thinking about some of our talk yesterday. That was all." The smile was clear in her voice as she spoke. When she was finished, Asia could utter only one word that was most fitting for Aea, and that was beautiful. Turning the bronzed mirror toward her, she left her to take a look at herself and see just how beautiful she was. She could tell that Aea did not seem to trust mirrors, seeing how she stared at them like she could not believe what she was seeing. So for a moment, Asia placed her head on Aea's shoulder so they both looked in the mirror together, smiling at her friend's reflection. If she didn't believe the mirror, maybe she believed her eyes? "Don't doubt what you see, you are beautiful. Even if you compare dusk and dawn, they both are beautiful in their ways. One is more golden and wild and the other is fire in the sky and calm. Both equal in beauty, just different in how. They are balanced that way." As she spoke, she gave Aea a smile once she said that the skies were balanced, thinking that that kind of fit them well. Leaving Aea to think about what she said, Athanasia turned to finish getting ready. This was new to Athanasia, to have someone that isn't instantly fawning or trying to win her over, just someone who is there and treating her like Asia. Someone for Asia to truly treat like a friend. For some of the talks they have had so far, the comments that slip in, they remind her of her brothers so much that Athanasia started to wonder if Aea was her sister in another life.
Handing over the leathers to Aea, Asia ran her fingers over the cool metal of her dagger handle, feeling the rubies smooth but bump against her fingertips. This was hard to leave it behind, her gift from her pater. Athanasia let out a soft sigh before she tucked her beloved dagger at the bottom of a drawer to keep it safe. It was truly weird when she did not have it upon her person. She hated it, almost like having to leave her chitons or her wrappings behind, such an important thing that Asia felt almost naked without it. Her security. At least she could wear her ring that her brother gave her, so that was something. Moving to put up all the bracelets and rings up that she offered for Aea to wear, she was smiling because Aea refused it all and put on her own dagger and scabbard, 'if you strap it between your thighs, the only way anybody could guess is if they dared let their hands venture there.' She shook her head to Aea's suggestion though, knowing she meant her own dagger she just put away, "While I would love to and I agree that no one would check there, but my family knows me way to well. If I need one that badly, I'm dead anyways, right?" Did that sound kind of on the prideful arrogant side? Yes it did, but Asia was using it as a joke since she knew that there was bound to be cutlery there and she liked to think she could use any blade with relative ease. Though watching Ntanta freeze did have Athanasia let out the most unlady-like snort as she tried not to laugh, which earned her a slap from the woman, that made Asia laugh even harder as she tried to dodge the next hit. "Honestly though, we should be ok, this is just dinner. Most times, the most dangerous thing someone would need to worry about is choking or flying food." Then Athanasia thought about it, "Or people flirting with you thinking you will let them seduce you." Asia shivered at the thought.
It was time to head out, they were as ready as they were going to be and after seeing Aea get her rolls of skins in hand, Athanasia made sure to grab her bag before she laced her arm through Aea's as they left for the carriage. It was a new feeling, having someone that was not one of her brothers to go to a party or a dinner or some stately affair with, maybe this dinner wouldn't be as boring as she thought it was originally destined to be. She had worried that she would have been stuck between either her brothers or some other nobles that she wanted nothing to do with. The thought of nobles brought to mind one in particular but was dismissed just as quick, he was sure to be gone by now. It was a good thing that she would now have a friend there to talk with, someone who would be able to talk about pretty much anything and everything. She did not have to watch what she said with her, only watch who heard it. Seeing some of the servants pass, the looks they gave Aea made Asia grin that she was correct in her assessment. Good, the more people that looked and agreed, the less argument Aea could give her if she ever decides to disagree. Athanasia could already tell her friend didn't quite feel like she was as eye-catching as she was.
Ntanta followed them out into the hall, trailing after the girls with the plan to stop once they reached the door to bid them a safe journey to the dinner. Athanasia was used to it, Ntanta was like her mother's extra hands when she was not around as she grew up and even now when she was being especially troublesome. So when Aea suggested that she would take her rowing sometime, Athanasia gave her a smile back, "That does sound like a fun idea. We should go in the next couple of days." It was then that Aea's cheek was pressed against her own, making her almost freeze even as she still moved in step with her friend as she listened to her quiet whispers. Athanasia was not used to anyone being in her space like that, and yet somehow she did not hate it, so she was about to whisper back when suddenly door swings open and a large body just steps out and bumps right into Aea, almost knocking the both of them over before Aea shoved him away from them. The move was hard enough to knock the pair of them apart and Athanasia watched as Aea almost instantly jumped in a defensive position, her stance wide as she pinned him to the wall. Athanasia would have stopped her if she drew a blade, but something stopped Aea and made her pull away quickly, so Asia kept quiet as she watched to see how her brother would charm his way out of this mess.
'You ought to be careful where you step.' Athanasia stood there with her arms now crossed over her chest, as she watched the scene before her unfold as Yiannis looked between her and Aea, giving Yiannis a grin that said that she was leaving him to get out of his own fumble as she silently laughed at him when Aea wasn't looking. She was enjoying watching him get sniped at by Aea and at this moment she was guessing Aea was wishing she could hit Yiannis even as she kept her voice sounding somewhat polite, which Athanasia was keen on learning from her new friend. When Yiannis had bumped into them, Aea moved without even thinking. She just instantly went on the defensive and faced what she saw as a threat. Looking at her stance and how she adjusted in a split moment, how she spoke, Asia was remembering it all for future plans. Looking over at Yiannis though, she did have to nod her agreement when Aea pointed out the red he already had on, he didn't need more otherwise mater might yell at him for either being late or coming to her party with blood on him. 'It would have been a shame to knock you over and ruin such a pretty chiton. Or worse. I think you've enough red on, don't you?' Athanasia could not see Aea's face but she could see Yiannis' and the nervous grin had her snicker softly as she let them continue 'I most certainly should,' he said. Though she was tempted to smack him as she watched him try to wave her back so he could have his moment to flirt with her friend, Athanasia gave him the sweetest of smiles as she scrunched her nose at him while she shook her head no. She stayed right where she was as he fumbled through his conversation with Aea. She watched as her brother moved the loosened strand of hair from Aea's face, wondering just what he was planning. 'I thought I heard someone I knew, and grew so excited I left my senses. I hope you can forgive me.' Athanasia watched as her brother attempted to make his move while she shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose, she waited for the sound of a slap. She was surprised that it never came. 'Strange you should say you knew my voice, for I was the only one speaking.' Aea's tone was still calm, her voice almost sounded like she was smiling, but Asia couldn't see her face. 'Had we met for the first time, I’m certain I would recognize you now.' She was standing there watching the pair, her brother acting like a love-sick puppy had her grinning and Aea not fighting him or shoving him away. When Aea looked back at Athanasia, all she could do was do an over exaggerated eye roll. Showing Aea that there was nothing to worry about other than possibly annoying.
She was sure her brother possibly caught her expression when he looked at her right as he spoke, 'Oh, that took me a moment. You're tremendously clever.' It was always so weird to watch her brothers flirt with anyone. She knew it was normal and that they were grown men, but it was still weird. 'Unfortunately, tremendous cleverness could not save me from such an incredibly strong opponent,' Aea responded before giving Yiannis a shove, her tone sounding light. Was she.. was she flirting back? 'Not many people can withstand such a shove. And you moved not an inch. I take that as a challenge to try again sometime. Preferably outside, with a blade, and while I am looking at you.' Athanasia was about to say something when her brother spoke up, backtracking just slightly to the bump. 'I hope you are all right. My name is Yiannis, and if you would allow me the opportunity to make up for my lack of judgement by joining your escort, I would be grateful.' he said, giving his best smile before he looked over at Athanasia. She knew that look and she would play along for this moment, but not for too long. This made the whole evening worth it, if nothing else happened tonight, this made it all worth it in Athanasia's opinion as Yiannis fumbled along. 'Yiannis,' Athanasia could hear Aea test out his name, wondering if she remembered. 'I’ve not heard such a name before. I’m—' And that answered that question. 'You’re the one that’s going to have a bruise come morning, not I. Naturally, you’ll have to ask the princess if you can come, seeing as I have no carriage, and she does. Even though she never moved from where she was, she smiled when he introduced himself, it still amazed her how he was the one that she was most like with the mischievous air, so her playful grin is told often that it looks similar to his. Mischievous. Playful. Hidden depths to what the true intention really was. Athanasia learned from the best, she was in effect, a combination of her brothers' teachings. He was lucky he was her brother and that she loved him, otherwise she wouldn't have stayed silent to his wordless request. So when Aea said that she never heard the name Yiannis before, Athansia's smile grew as she realized that her friend had so thoroughly ruled out that she was telling the truth, that she forgot all else that Asia told her. 'Late,' Aea blurted out, Asia had missed her forgetting her own name as well, as she turned to Asia, we’re exceedingly late, your majesty. Athanasia smiled at her friend, knowing she wanted to leave more than anything. Yiannis threw out his offer again with a touch of guilt added in to try and get them to comply. 'If that would be all right, of course. I don't want to intrude.' Athanasia remembered their games, but this was a tad different. With Aea, Asia was planning to play the long game and not just a short run. She was playing for keeps, if she could convince her to stay by her side. This was going to be a very interesting dinner, indeed. Athanasia left the choice up to mostly up to Aea, smiling when she knew Aea wanted her to say no, but where was the fun in that when he would be there anyways? "If the Lady does not mind, neither do I." This was going to be a very interesting dinner, indeed. Athanasia left the choice up to mostly up to Aea, smiling when she knew Aea wanted her to say no, but where was the fun in that when he would be there anyways?
Lacing her arm again through Aea's after she snatched the grapes up, she looked back at Yiannis and smiled, "You can follow behind us on your horse, brother. We girls have our private talks and plannings to do, you know?" With such a statement Athanasia did three things; first was to allow her brother to escort them, two kept him out of the carriage so Aea can have some peace, and three let Aea know that he was her brother. As she told Aea to eat, her friend's comment about being even more intimidating had her giggling "Well, that is not a bad thing to be intimidating, you know. You would be completely unstoppable then. Could you imagine, people just knowing who you are by sight from the stories they told?" Athanasia smiled after she said that as she teased her friend a little, almost as if she was sharing a private inside thought that only she knew and that she liked the sound of. Which wasn’t a far off dream of hers, if Athanasia had her way of things. Looking behind her, she could see Yiannis following, turning only slightly to mount the horse that was saddled for him. Asia gave him a sisterly smile that showed how much she loved bugging him even as she loved him being home. It was nice he was here and hopefully he did not have to leave again. Stepping into the carriage, they took leave for the dinner, Aea making sure to get Agogos and the sight of him made Asia smile. He was still a healthy looking bird. If Ara stayed with her, she would need to have a perch made for him, some leathers for Aea so she didn't get gouged every time he gripped onto her. Things Asia stored away for future thoughts as they rumbled on down the way. Athanasia was flighty and spontaneous oftentimes, but she was oftentimes playing what some would call a long game of chess, making moves and making things happen. Some were for fun, others were to test the waters, times like moments ago were happy happenstances that she looks at as luck. The more she knew of Aea, the more she saw that her gut instinct was right about her.
While in the carriage, Athanasia and Aea were quiet as the breeze drifted in through the open windows, relaxing and peaceful. Athanasia knew she probably didn't need to remind Aea to behave, but she did, and her response 'It is you I worry for. Running through the woods in the moonlight. Hunting. Positively atrocious behavior, you know. It’s far more dignified to walk slowly and eat the game others hunt in your stead.' had Asia laughing softly. "Yes, you are probably right, but where is the fun in that?" She liked having her freedoms, and if she didn't, she never would have met Aea. Seeing her today and her reactions to new environments, her reaction when Yiannis ran into her, everything had her thinking about her next move if and once Aea accepts her offer to become a retainer. Athanasia had much more in mind for her and she was going to call in all her brothers' help for it if she agreed. Especially Vangelis, his training would be tough and take time.
The carriage stopped, signalling their arrival and Asia looked over at Aea, “You ready? Just remember, you are one of mine and under my protection. No one will touch you, not if they wish to keep their fingers.” Asia said. She meant it too, if she had to fight the two kings of the other nations, she would. The only ones she might have trouble with would be her parents and brothers. This was Colchis though, and she was it's princess, she would protect what she deemed hers. So when Aea replied 'If I am yours and under your protection, then you are mine and under my protection too. And should anybody touch me, I’ll not have you intervene on my behalf. I like your own fingers right where they are.' Meeting her gaze without blinking or looking away, Athanasia smiled. "Together then." She knew it and she liked being right. Before she started to get overly proud of herself, Asia proposed a game, giving Aea a look that she knew she would understand. 'Athanasia, you cannot possibly be serious.' Which only made Athanasia's smile grow as she shared her plan without even saying a word. “Now, are you ready to go inside with me, Lady Nightingale?”
Just like that, the door was opened and Athanasia could see everything slide into place as Aea replied in a completely different accent, 'I am, your royal highness, though I do think you should beat that clumsy Greek tongue of yours until it can produce the correct pronunciation the gods gifted my forbearers. I suppose Lady Aidoni will do for now.' Oh the game was so on, tonight was going to be interesting indeed. "I do apologize to you Lady Aidoni, I will do my best to work on that." Once they were both out of the carriage, they made their way to the entrance of the Dikastirio. It was not a quiet walk as there were people milling around, both drunk and commoners alike. Here, Athanasia only stopped a moment as she avoided the drunken souls, making her way to the much smaller beings that hid in the corner. In Asia's bag, she often had coins in the event that she might see something she wants, or if she sees moments like the scrawny little children in front of her. Taking out a handful of obols, she gave the kids 5 each, knowing it would be enough to buy food for a couple days at least. Looking around to make sure no one saw her, one could never be to cautious when drunks were around, she placed a finger to her lips in a quiet *shhhh* motion for the kids to be quiet before heading up the rest of the way with Aea. Athanasia wasn't gone long but she could already see how Aea was starting to act like the very lady she was now said to be, with her chin high and almost regal, she should do just fine. It was like another persona took over her friend as she assumed a role of a visitor that was not familiar with grecian customs. It was an amazing sight to see. Aea had moved away from her and disappeared from sight, Athanasia wasn't worried though waited for her friend, it wasn't long before she appeared from behind one of the columns after having only been gone for only a moment.
Athanasia and Aea made their way down the long hall to the room where everyone would be sitting, it did not surprise her when the guard stopped them for Aea's sword. If only they knew, Asia might not have her blade on her, but after watching Aea today she was sure the two of them would be formidable opponents even without weapons. For a moment she wondered if Aea would even give up the sword, possibly stating that she was guarding or needed it for safety or something along those lines, but she surprised Asia again. Athanasia was taking notes on how Aea assessed situations and took the time to read people in an instant. She would be very good one day, if not the best for what Asia has planned. Now to just have it all come into fruition, but that won't happen unless Aea agrees to becoming her retainer. While Aea took the time to remove the sword, Asia looked behind them, and smiled when she saw her brother finally seeming to catch up to them.
Giving Yiannis a look, she put her finger to her lips to tell him to keep quiet, she wanted to see how long it would take Aea to notice him and his quiet steps. All day, Athanasia has become more and more impressed with her new friend's skills. She knew she made the right choice when she decided to trust her that fateful day and chose to lead her to her secret hidden cave that night. Athanasia was seldom wrong in reading people and their intentions, and the times that she is wrong is what makes her so cautious now, but with Aea it was such a strong gut feeling almost like the gods were nudging her along to tell her to keep going. She knew she couldn't stop him for long, he had his own weapons to surrender as well, if he had any. It was something unavoidable since this was in celebration of peace and he was a royal that was invited as well, so Aea would just have to take deep breaths and push through it. Although, she did have to admit that it almost looked like something might have been there between those two, when he tried to shoo her back from them. It was a small thing, but almost like a spark of a possibility.
That would be something Athanasia would try and figure out later though as they moved well ahead of her brother coming in, making her smile at his slowness at the moment. *Gotta be quicker Yiannis, run!* Though it wasn’t long till he caught up as they entered the dining area and she knew he heard the faux accent now as Aea spoke ’My friend, you'll have to tell me how it is your people arrange their places around these...what is the word for bord in your tongue? Tablette, no?’ Athanasia was all smiles but her tone was completely serious as if she truly was guiding a foreign dignitary around that did not understand their customs. “Well yes, we call it a table, though a board works too since it is just a flat piece of wood with wooden legs to lift it from the ground. I am sure you will find it more than adequate for you to use during your visit.” She was the absolute picture of what a hostess should be for a guest, just like her mater when she holds parties and how she will more than likely be tonight, if she isn’t dragging Athanasia to her room to lock her in it for the rest of her breathing days. At least she could say that she showed good manners. Looking around, she could see the two very long tables set up with chairs, this wasn't going to be the usual lounging affair and relaxing. This was telling her that she had to be on her best behavior, this was a formal dinner in its entirety. Which she had an idea of but she still held out some hope. Spotting Vangelis, she moved over towards that table.
As she walked further in, Athanasia noted that others were already there, and she tentatively took a seat with Aea while they waited for her mater to arrive. Looking over at Aea, she motioned to the small wine vessel, “Would you like some wine?” She poured a glass for herself and Aea before settling in to see what happens next. She could smell the food cooking from somewhere as it travelled through the air, making Asia’s stomach rumble in demand. She was hungry. To distract herself, she started to pay attention to the people around her. As she looked across from her, she saw a pretty blonde girl that Athanasia thought looked slightly familiar. She was wearing a white dress that looked so pretty with its beadwork and the diamonds in place. She looked like she belonged on Olympus and not sitting next to her older brother, who seemed to be at a loss for words as well. When she spoke to Vangelis, Athanasia giggled as they waited for his response. After a moment she smiled, "Hello, don't mind my brother, he is broody often. Right, Vangelis?" She gave her brother the sweetest smile just as their brother Yiannis finally found his seat next to them. Pointing between everyone, Athanasia introduced everyone. "My name is Athanasia, by the way, though you may call me Asia. This is Yiannis, my brother. And this is Lady Aidoni. She is a foreign visitor who happens to be passing through and I am her guide and new friend." Athanasia pointed to Vangelis, "I am going to assume you know Vangelis?" Asia was all smiles as she remembered the sarcasm in her voice as she spoke to him. She knew this girl was going to be good for Vangelis, as long as she could get him to talk. Athanasia's mind was already plotting ways, what fun it would be to drive her brothers crazy as she tries to matchmake them. Looking over at Aea, she smiled as she wondered what she was thinking now that they were sitting. Looking around, she noted a few others that seemed to filter in and mill about, but she didn't see her mater or pater just yet. Athanasia took a sip from her glass as she thought about it, wondering what her next step shall be.
As Athanasia moved around the room to get things ready while her Ntanta worked on Aea's hair. Athanasia remembered earlier that morning when she showed up at her home, the look in Aea's eyes was a story untold and one that Asia was unsure Aea was willing to tell. Asia would not push her though, instead she pulled her inside and the day has been a flurry of getting cleaned up and fed. She remembered how much Aea ate of the rabbits, so she made sure to have the cook make both breakfast and lunch large enough that it could feed her brothers easily. When Aea's hair was fully dry, was when Ntanta started her brushing. Today had been a fun day so far with her fun as they ate and talked. Athanasia was pulled from the memory when Aea jumped at a snag, drawing her attention. 'Forgive me,' she said quietly to Ntanta and Athanasia smiled. Nothing to forgive, dear. I apologize, that one was hiding from me.' Ntanta had replied just as quietly. One thing that Aea could not see was her smile, if there was one thing that Athanasia's Ntanta loved, it was taking care of people. That was why she was a Ntanta. It was an old argument when Asia tries to find out her name, not even her own mater would tell her as she stated, 'Your Ntanta doesn't want you to know her name yet till you're older.' It was an old argument and one that Asia had given up on trying to find out. One day, when Athanasia is older and married and Ntanta doesn't view her as one of her charges, she planned to learn her real name and planned to pay her back for all her kindness. She really was a great one, patient as a mountain... most days.
Her own smile grew as Aea leaned back and relaxed as Ntanta continued brushing. Aea's hair caught the light similar to water at night as the strands smoothed out. It gave Asia a chance to take in the girl's features as she was relaxed and serene under Ntanta's skilled bushings as she moved around her. Athanasia knew that if Ntanta kept brushing, she could very well put Aea to sleep, but sadly they had things to do this night. If she takes up her offer, maybe they could find that out one night to see if she would be able to relax enough to fall asleep to her hair being brushed. Asia knew that she succumbed to it many times growing up. She couldn't be the only one, right? Aea drew her attention again when she suddenly tensed a little, biting her lip. Did Ntanta find another knot? Looking over at the older woman, she shook her head, knowing what Athanasia's question was. There were no more knots in Aea's hair that got snagged. This knot was something that Aea would have to work through herself, unless she asked for help. The silence broke as Ntanta declared, 'There. All done.' and moved Aea's hair over her shoulder so she could see it and admire just how silky smooth and soft her hair was compared to the wild mane she had before. Not that it was crazy or fizzy before, but before one might mistake her for one of the legendary amazonians. A fierce warrior who would take down anyone on sight.
Standing back in front of her, it was easy to see what style would suit her face and stay out of her eyes before moving back around. After advising Ntanta on what style, things seemed to move quickly from there before Athanasia handed Aea the red silk fabric as she offered her opinion on what she thought would look best. If Aea didn't want it, Asia would not have forced it though. So as she moved about and gathered things up that they would need once they were dressed completely, Athanasia paused as Aea spoke. 'I think I know nothing of complexions, nor whatever an exomie style is, but that I trust your judgement in matters of aesthetic.' Her smile softened as she moved before Aea, "And I thank you for your trust." Those words were loaded, meaning so much more than just a thank you for the style trust, she knew that if Aea didn't trust her at all, she wouldn't have been there at all. "Pin the cloth here, on your left shoulder. If you leave some fabric hanging around your arm, it will almost give it a look of a chiton, but on one shoulder. That is only if you would like, if you prefer chiton or a peplos style, I can get you more pins." Athanasia gave Aea a true smile as she pointed to her left shoulder, her eyes showing her that she meant every word and took no offense to any of it. "It really is your choice, no one will force you to do anything you do not want to do. If they even try, they will meet my fist, if they don't meet yours first." The last bit was Athanasia's attempt to make Aea smile or even chuckle a bit, even as she meant it. No one will hurt her friend, not if she could help it. "If you need any help, do not be afraid to ask." Leaving her to get dressed, Athanasia went to get dressed herself as she has a little smile on her face. For a moment, Athanasia almost wanted to call her sister, but she didn't. Was that the bond that she felt?
-
When Aea emerged from the room, Asia smiled when she saw how the red really seemed to warm her color, like Aea had a fire burning deep within her. She was an ember from Hephaestus' forge burning bright and hot. Asia could see Aea becoming not only an unstoppable weapon, but also an impenetrable shield, to whomever she deemed worthy to protect. She was going to be formidable. As she watched Aea come closer, Athanasia wondered why she opened up to her so quickly that night in the cave. Wondered why she offered her protection that night without a second thought. She could not think why other than she felt a connection with Aea. Athanasia honestly could not answer why she felt a bond with this girl, but it was there, almost from the moment they first met. Athanasia could see a lot of herself in Aea but also a lot that wasn't the same, it was nice. Though who would have thought that they would go from Asia pointing her weapon and almost killing Aea, to now having her here in her home, and wanting her to stay. Thinking back, she was smiling at how different Aea was now. She went from a hesitant stranger who didn't believe she was a princess but a hermit, to a babbling silly girl once she realized that she was a princess, to now being so calm and normal like they were in the cave. Such a change over time. Same goes for looks too, from dirt covered and thread bared clothes to clean and silk. It was like Aea was different, but the same. It reminded Athanasia of when she would change her looks into a boy to just hide among the people and not be noticed. Light and dark. So when she stated that Aea looked beautiful, Asia was surprised by her response, 'Said the dawn to the dusk' both were beautiful and incomparable in her opinion, also fitting with what she was thinking. 'I feel like myself, I suppose. Though I daresay much less brown than usual. And, of course, less armed.' Aea's response to Athanasia's question, made her smile while nodding her own agreement as she gathered up the olive oil and charcoal mix. "I can understand that one too, I hated not being able to keep my blades on me at the festival." Directing her friend to the seat, Asia began her work on the eyeliner with a smooth precision of practiced ease.
It still amazed her, thinking back to that morning and how much trust Aea had shown in Athanasia, after she found out exactly who she was at the festival the day before. Asia was not even sure she would have come after the festival and their talk in the temple, at least not as soon as that morning. When a guard came to tell her that a girl was there to see her, saying that she was invited, Athanasia almost didn't believe him. That was until he said her name, to which Athanasia ordered him in a voice that she did not use often to bring her there as quickly as possible. She still remembered the shock on the guard's face, Athanasia wasn't usually known for using any kind of authoritative tone on anyone. She was sure gossip was spreading, but she didn't care at that time. She was not going to turn Aea out, no matter how troubled her friend seemed, and certainly not over any stupid gossip as Aea was rushed to Athanasia's room. The first thing she did when she saw her friend was to take her hands and pull her to a seat. The previous evening they talked like they did in the cave, this time with lots more food and drinks while they hid from the crowds in the temple. It wasn't until the sun had set long past and the moon was high, when the priestess kicked them out, and Athanasia said goodnight to Aea. So when Aea showed up this morning, Athanasia pulled her in without even questioning it. Some might wonder why she didn't even question Aea, but Athanasia knew that she would tell her, in her own time. Drawing the smooth black lines over Aea's closed eyelids, Athanasia thought back to some of her funnier tales, making her giggle before she moved onto the other eyelid.
Athanasia was smiling as Aea seemed to sense it and match her smile with her own before she asked, 'Should I even ask?' as Asia blew gently upon her eyelids. "Well, I was just thinking about some of our talk yesterday. That was all." The smile was clear in her voice as she spoke. When she was finished, Asia could utter only one word that was most fitting for Aea, and that was beautiful. Turning the bronzed mirror toward her, she left her to take a look at herself and see just how beautiful she was. She could tell that Aea did not seem to trust mirrors, seeing how she stared at them like she could not believe what she was seeing. So for a moment, Asia placed her head on Aea's shoulder so they both looked in the mirror together, smiling at her friend's reflection. If she didn't believe the mirror, maybe she believed her eyes? "Don't doubt what you see, you are beautiful. Even if you compare dusk and dawn, they both are beautiful in their ways. One is more golden and wild and the other is fire in the sky and calm. Both equal in beauty, just different in how. They are balanced that way." As she spoke, she gave Aea a smile once she said that the skies were balanced, thinking that that kind of fit them well. Leaving Aea to think about what she said, Athanasia turned to finish getting ready. This was new to Athanasia, to have someone that isn't instantly fawning or trying to win her over, just someone who is there and treating her like Asia. Someone for Asia to truly treat like a friend. For some of the talks they have had so far, the comments that slip in, they remind her of her brothers so much that Athanasia started to wonder if Aea was her sister in another life.
Handing over the leathers to Aea, Asia ran her fingers over the cool metal of her dagger handle, feeling the rubies smooth but bump against her fingertips. This was hard to leave it behind, her gift from her pater. Athanasia let out a soft sigh before she tucked her beloved dagger at the bottom of a drawer to keep it safe. It was truly weird when she did not have it upon her person. She hated it, almost like having to leave her chitons or her wrappings behind, such an important thing that Asia felt almost naked without it. Her security. At least she could wear her ring that her brother gave her, so that was something. Moving to put up all the bracelets and rings up that she offered for Aea to wear, she was smiling because Aea refused it all and put on her own dagger and scabbard, 'if you strap it between your thighs, the only way anybody could guess is if they dared let their hands venture there.' She shook her head to Aea's suggestion though, knowing she meant her own dagger she just put away, "While I would love to and I agree that no one would check there, but my family knows me way to well. If I need one that badly, I'm dead anyways, right?" Did that sound kind of on the prideful arrogant side? Yes it did, but Asia was using it as a joke since she knew that there was bound to be cutlery there and she liked to think she could use any blade with relative ease. Though watching Ntanta freeze did have Athanasia let out the most unlady-like snort as she tried not to laugh, which earned her a slap from the woman, that made Asia laugh even harder as she tried to dodge the next hit. "Honestly though, we should be ok, this is just dinner. Most times, the most dangerous thing someone would need to worry about is choking or flying food." Then Athanasia thought about it, "Or people flirting with you thinking you will let them seduce you." Asia shivered at the thought.
It was time to head out, they were as ready as they were going to be and after seeing Aea get her rolls of skins in hand, Athanasia made sure to grab her bag before she laced her arm through Aea's as they left for the carriage. It was a new feeling, having someone that was not one of her brothers to go to a party or a dinner or some stately affair with, maybe this dinner wouldn't be as boring as she thought it was originally destined to be. She had worried that she would have been stuck between either her brothers or some other nobles that she wanted nothing to do with. The thought of nobles brought to mind one in particular but was dismissed just as quick, he was sure to be gone by now. It was a good thing that she would now have a friend there to talk with, someone who would be able to talk about pretty much anything and everything. She did not have to watch what she said with her, only watch who heard it. Seeing some of the servants pass, the looks they gave Aea made Asia grin that she was correct in her assessment. Good, the more people that looked and agreed, the less argument Aea could give her if she ever decides to disagree. Athanasia could already tell her friend didn't quite feel like she was as eye-catching as she was.
Ntanta followed them out into the hall, trailing after the girls with the plan to stop once they reached the door to bid them a safe journey to the dinner. Athanasia was used to it, Ntanta was like her mother's extra hands when she was not around as she grew up and even now when she was being especially troublesome. So when Aea suggested that she would take her rowing sometime, Athanasia gave her a smile back, "That does sound like a fun idea. We should go in the next couple of days." It was then that Aea's cheek was pressed against her own, making her almost freeze even as she still moved in step with her friend as she listened to her quiet whispers. Athanasia was not used to anyone being in her space like that, and yet somehow she did not hate it, so she was about to whisper back when suddenly door swings open and a large body just steps out and bumps right into Aea, almost knocking the both of them over before Aea shoved him away from them. The move was hard enough to knock the pair of them apart and Athanasia watched as Aea almost instantly jumped in a defensive position, her stance wide as she pinned him to the wall. Athanasia would have stopped her if she drew a blade, but something stopped Aea and made her pull away quickly, so Asia kept quiet as she watched to see how her brother would charm his way out of this mess.
'You ought to be careful where you step.' Athanasia stood there with her arms now crossed over her chest, as she watched the scene before her unfold as Yiannis looked between her and Aea, giving Yiannis a grin that said that she was leaving him to get out of his own fumble as she silently laughed at him when Aea wasn't looking. She was enjoying watching him get sniped at by Aea and at this moment she was guessing Aea was wishing she could hit Yiannis even as she kept her voice sounding somewhat polite, which Athanasia was keen on learning from her new friend. When Yiannis had bumped into them, Aea moved without even thinking. She just instantly went on the defensive and faced what she saw as a threat. Looking at her stance and how she adjusted in a split moment, how she spoke, Asia was remembering it all for future plans. Looking over at Yiannis though, she did have to nod her agreement when Aea pointed out the red he already had on, he didn't need more otherwise mater might yell at him for either being late or coming to her party with blood on him. 'It would have been a shame to knock you over and ruin such a pretty chiton. Or worse. I think you've enough red on, don't you?' Athanasia could not see Aea's face but she could see Yiannis' and the nervous grin had her snicker softly as she let them continue 'I most certainly should,' he said. Though she was tempted to smack him as she watched him try to wave her back so he could have his moment to flirt with her friend, Athanasia gave him the sweetest of smiles as she scrunched her nose at him while she shook her head no. She stayed right where she was as he fumbled through his conversation with Aea. She watched as her brother moved the loosened strand of hair from Aea's face, wondering just what he was planning. 'I thought I heard someone I knew, and grew so excited I left my senses. I hope you can forgive me.' Athanasia watched as her brother attempted to make his move while she shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose, she waited for the sound of a slap. She was surprised that it never came. 'Strange you should say you knew my voice, for I was the only one speaking.' Aea's tone was still calm, her voice almost sounded like she was smiling, but Asia couldn't see her face. 'Had we met for the first time, I’m certain I would recognize you now.' She was standing there watching the pair, her brother acting like a love-sick puppy had her grinning and Aea not fighting him or shoving him away. When Aea looked back at Athanasia, all she could do was do an over exaggerated eye roll. Showing Aea that there was nothing to worry about other than possibly annoying.
She was sure her brother possibly caught her expression when he looked at her right as he spoke, 'Oh, that took me a moment. You're tremendously clever.' It was always so weird to watch her brothers flirt with anyone. She knew it was normal and that they were grown men, but it was still weird. 'Unfortunately, tremendous cleverness could not save me from such an incredibly strong opponent,' Aea responded before giving Yiannis a shove, her tone sounding light. Was she.. was she flirting back? 'Not many people can withstand such a shove. And you moved not an inch. I take that as a challenge to try again sometime. Preferably outside, with a blade, and while I am looking at you.' Athanasia was about to say something when her brother spoke up, backtracking just slightly to the bump. 'I hope you are all right. My name is Yiannis, and if you would allow me the opportunity to make up for my lack of judgement by joining your escort, I would be grateful.' he said, giving his best smile before he looked over at Athanasia. She knew that look and she would play along for this moment, but not for too long. This made the whole evening worth it, if nothing else happened tonight, this made it all worth it in Athanasia's opinion as Yiannis fumbled along. 'Yiannis,' Athanasia could hear Aea test out his name, wondering if she remembered. 'I’ve not heard such a name before. I’m—' And that answered that question. 'You’re the one that’s going to have a bruise come morning, not I. Naturally, you’ll have to ask the princess if you can come, seeing as I have no carriage, and she does. Even though she never moved from where she was, she smiled when he introduced himself, it still amazed her how he was the one that she was most like with the mischievous air, so her playful grin is told often that it looks similar to his. Mischievous. Playful. Hidden depths to what the true intention really was. Athanasia learned from the best, she was in effect, a combination of her brothers' teachings. He was lucky he was her brother and that she loved him, otherwise she wouldn't have stayed silent to his wordless request. So when Aea said that she never heard the name Yiannis before, Athansia's smile grew as she realized that her friend had so thoroughly ruled out that she was telling the truth, that she forgot all else that Asia told her. 'Late,' Aea blurted out, Asia had missed her forgetting her own name as well, as she turned to Asia, we’re exceedingly late, your majesty. Athanasia smiled at her friend, knowing she wanted to leave more than anything. Yiannis threw out his offer again with a touch of guilt added in to try and get them to comply. 'If that would be all right, of course. I don't want to intrude.' Athanasia remembered their games, but this was a tad different. With Aea, Asia was planning to play the long game and not just a short run. She was playing for keeps, if she could convince her to stay by her side. This was going to be a very interesting dinner, indeed. Athanasia left the choice up to mostly up to Aea, smiling when she knew Aea wanted her to say no, but where was the fun in that when he would be there anyways? "If the Lady does not mind, neither do I." This was going to be a very interesting dinner, indeed. Athanasia left the choice up to mostly up to Aea, smiling when she knew Aea wanted her to say no, but where was the fun in that when he would be there anyways?
Lacing her arm again through Aea's after she snatched the grapes up, she looked back at Yiannis and smiled, "You can follow behind us on your horse, brother. We girls have our private talks and plannings to do, you know?" With such a statement Athanasia did three things; first was to allow her brother to escort them, two kept him out of the carriage so Aea can have some peace, and three let Aea know that he was her brother. As she told Aea to eat, her friend's comment about being even more intimidating had her giggling "Well, that is not a bad thing to be intimidating, you know. You would be completely unstoppable then. Could you imagine, people just knowing who you are by sight from the stories they told?" Athanasia smiled after she said that as she teased her friend a little, almost as if she was sharing a private inside thought that only she knew and that she liked the sound of. Which wasn’t a far off dream of hers, if Athanasia had her way of things. Looking behind her, she could see Yiannis following, turning only slightly to mount the horse that was saddled for him. Asia gave him a sisterly smile that showed how much she loved bugging him even as she loved him being home. It was nice he was here and hopefully he did not have to leave again. Stepping into the carriage, they took leave for the dinner, Aea making sure to get Agogos and the sight of him made Asia smile. He was still a healthy looking bird. If Ara stayed with her, she would need to have a perch made for him, some leathers for Aea so she didn't get gouged every time he gripped onto her. Things Asia stored away for future thoughts as they rumbled on down the way. Athanasia was flighty and spontaneous oftentimes, but she was oftentimes playing what some would call a long game of chess, making moves and making things happen. Some were for fun, others were to test the waters, times like moments ago were happy happenstances that she looks at as luck. The more she knew of Aea, the more she saw that her gut instinct was right about her.
While in the carriage, Athanasia and Aea were quiet as the breeze drifted in through the open windows, relaxing and peaceful. Athanasia knew she probably didn't need to remind Aea to behave, but she did, and her response 'It is you I worry for. Running through the woods in the moonlight. Hunting. Positively atrocious behavior, you know. It’s far more dignified to walk slowly and eat the game others hunt in your stead.' had Asia laughing softly. "Yes, you are probably right, but where is the fun in that?" She liked having her freedoms, and if she didn't, she never would have met Aea. Seeing her today and her reactions to new environments, her reaction when Yiannis ran into her, everything had her thinking about her next move if and once Aea accepts her offer to become a retainer. Athanasia had much more in mind for her and she was going to call in all her brothers' help for it if she agreed. Especially Vangelis, his training would be tough and take time.
The carriage stopped, signalling their arrival and Asia looked over at Aea, “You ready? Just remember, you are one of mine and under my protection. No one will touch you, not if they wish to keep their fingers.” Asia said. She meant it too, if she had to fight the two kings of the other nations, she would. The only ones she might have trouble with would be her parents and brothers. This was Colchis though, and she was it's princess, she would protect what she deemed hers. So when Aea replied 'If I am yours and under your protection, then you are mine and under my protection too. And should anybody touch me, I’ll not have you intervene on my behalf. I like your own fingers right where they are.' Meeting her gaze without blinking or looking away, Athanasia smiled. "Together then." She knew it and she liked being right. Before she started to get overly proud of herself, Asia proposed a game, giving Aea a look that she knew she would understand. 'Athanasia, you cannot possibly be serious.' Which only made Athanasia's smile grow as she shared her plan without even saying a word. “Now, are you ready to go inside with me, Lady Nightingale?”
Just like that, the door was opened and Athanasia could see everything slide into place as Aea replied in a completely different accent, 'I am, your royal highness, though I do think you should beat that clumsy Greek tongue of yours until it can produce the correct pronunciation the gods gifted my forbearers. I suppose Lady Aidoni will do for now.' Oh the game was so on, tonight was going to be interesting indeed. "I do apologize to you Lady Aidoni, I will do my best to work on that." Once they were both out of the carriage, they made their way to the entrance of the Dikastirio. It was not a quiet walk as there were people milling around, both drunk and commoners alike. Here, Athanasia only stopped a moment as she avoided the drunken souls, making her way to the much smaller beings that hid in the corner. In Asia's bag, she often had coins in the event that she might see something she wants, or if she sees moments like the scrawny little children in front of her. Taking out a handful of obols, she gave the kids 5 each, knowing it would be enough to buy food for a couple days at least. Looking around to make sure no one saw her, one could never be to cautious when drunks were around, she placed a finger to her lips in a quiet *shhhh* motion for the kids to be quiet before heading up the rest of the way with Aea. Athanasia wasn't gone long but she could already see how Aea was starting to act like the very lady she was now said to be, with her chin high and almost regal, she should do just fine. It was like another persona took over her friend as she assumed a role of a visitor that was not familiar with grecian customs. It was an amazing sight to see. Aea had moved away from her and disappeared from sight, Athanasia wasn't worried though waited for her friend, it wasn't long before she appeared from behind one of the columns after having only been gone for only a moment.
Athanasia and Aea made their way down the long hall to the room where everyone would be sitting, it did not surprise her when the guard stopped them for Aea's sword. If only they knew, Asia might not have her blade on her, but after watching Aea today she was sure the two of them would be formidable opponents even without weapons. For a moment she wondered if Aea would even give up the sword, possibly stating that she was guarding or needed it for safety or something along those lines, but she surprised Asia again. Athanasia was taking notes on how Aea assessed situations and took the time to read people in an instant. She would be very good one day, if not the best for what Asia has planned. Now to just have it all come into fruition, but that won't happen unless Aea agrees to becoming her retainer. While Aea took the time to remove the sword, Asia looked behind them, and smiled when she saw her brother finally seeming to catch up to them.
Giving Yiannis a look, she put her finger to her lips to tell him to keep quiet, she wanted to see how long it would take Aea to notice him and his quiet steps. All day, Athanasia has become more and more impressed with her new friend's skills. She knew she made the right choice when she decided to trust her that fateful day and chose to lead her to her secret hidden cave that night. Athanasia was seldom wrong in reading people and their intentions, and the times that she is wrong is what makes her so cautious now, but with Aea it was such a strong gut feeling almost like the gods were nudging her along to tell her to keep going. She knew she couldn't stop him for long, he had his own weapons to surrender as well, if he had any. It was something unavoidable since this was in celebration of peace and he was a royal that was invited as well, so Aea would just have to take deep breaths and push through it. Although, she did have to admit that it almost looked like something might have been there between those two, when he tried to shoo her back from them. It was a small thing, but almost like a spark of a possibility.
That would be something Athanasia would try and figure out later though as they moved well ahead of her brother coming in, making her smile at his slowness at the moment. *Gotta be quicker Yiannis, run!* Though it wasn’t long till he caught up as they entered the dining area and she knew he heard the faux accent now as Aea spoke ’My friend, you'll have to tell me how it is your people arrange their places around these...what is the word for bord in your tongue? Tablette, no?’ Athanasia was all smiles but her tone was completely serious as if she truly was guiding a foreign dignitary around that did not understand their customs. “Well yes, we call it a table, though a board works too since it is just a flat piece of wood with wooden legs to lift it from the ground. I am sure you will find it more than adequate for you to use during your visit.” She was the absolute picture of what a hostess should be for a guest, just like her mater when she holds parties and how she will more than likely be tonight, if she isn’t dragging Athanasia to her room to lock her in it for the rest of her breathing days. At least she could say that she showed good manners. Looking around, she could see the two very long tables set up with chairs, this wasn't going to be the usual lounging affair and relaxing. This was telling her that she had to be on her best behavior, this was a formal dinner in its entirety. Which she had an idea of but she still held out some hope. Spotting Vangelis, she moved over towards that table.
As she walked further in, Athanasia noted that others were already there, and she tentatively took a seat with Aea while they waited for her mater to arrive. Looking over at Aea, she motioned to the small wine vessel, “Would you like some wine?” She poured a glass for herself and Aea before settling in to see what happens next. She could smell the food cooking from somewhere as it travelled through the air, making Asia’s stomach rumble in demand. She was hungry. To distract herself, she started to pay attention to the people around her. As she looked across from her, she saw a pretty blonde girl that Athanasia thought looked slightly familiar. She was wearing a white dress that looked so pretty with its beadwork and the diamonds in place. She looked like she belonged on Olympus and not sitting next to her older brother, who seemed to be at a loss for words as well. When she spoke to Vangelis, Athanasia giggled as they waited for his response. After a moment she smiled, "Hello, don't mind my brother, he is broody often. Right, Vangelis?" She gave her brother the sweetest smile just as their brother Yiannis finally found his seat next to them. Pointing between everyone, Athanasia introduced everyone. "My name is Athanasia, by the way, though you may call me Asia. This is Yiannis, my brother. And this is Lady Aidoni. She is a foreign visitor who happens to be passing through and I am her guide and new friend." Athanasia pointed to Vangelis, "I am going to assume you know Vangelis?" Asia was all smiles as she remembered the sarcasm in her voice as she spoke to him. She knew this girl was going to be good for Vangelis, as long as she could get him to talk. Athanasia's mind was already plotting ways, what fun it would be to drive her brothers crazy as she tries to matchmake them. Looking over at Aea, she smiled as she wondered what she was thinking now that they were sitting. Looking around, she noted a few others that seemed to filter in and mill about, but she didn't see her mater or pater just yet. Athanasia took a sip from her glass as she thought about it, wondering what her next step shall be.
The young warrior had thought that perhaps his words would serve to lighten the mood, and open the emerald eyed sulking woman up to some conversation. He had certainly garnered a response, but it was one full of mixed signals. Her mouth said one thing and her flushed cheeks said another. The night was definitely going to be interesting. Whether she realized it or not, Daniil had given him a new challenge, and Alexandros never turned down a challenge. She spoke disparagingly of the nobles that surrounded them, and he was sort of inclined to agree. “You speak truly, most nobles are boring fops, but you don’t have to converse with them, we can keep the conversation between we more interesting folks, how does that strike you?” He asked with a smile that dripped charm, his voice was still sweet as he tried to cut through her rough exterior.
She then decided to mock him, which followed as a logical defense, but that only served to give him more cause to speak further. “I assure you, fair lady, that I am no mere implement to be used, perhaps you are too used to the common soldiery and these ignorant fops respected as nobles. You’ve never met a man like me, and you’ll never meet one again. There is none on the face of the Earth like me, and that I can prove. So don’t deride those you have no way of knowing unless you want them to do the same. I’m sure you would hate to be compared to the serving girl or the woman to my left, so why judge me thusly?” He wanted an answer, but he also realized, at this instance while she hid her flushed face in her cup, that she was attempting to deflect his attention away. “Oh, I see. You aren’t used to it, are you? A beautiful girl like you being uncomfortable with receiving the attention of a man, how fascinating. Well, my emerald eyed lady, you have my attention, and we’ll see what happens as the evening grows longer.” His voice was now teasing, and the smirk his lips had curled into was naught but playful. His curiosity was piqued and he wanted nothing more than to see how this woman reacted as the night went on.
Alexandros knew next to nothing about the Marikas house, but he could tell that this particular scion of it would enjoy burning the whole thing to the ground, and that fascinated the young warrior. “Daniil, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Since you feel no honor in your house, we shall leave such things behind us for the night. We need not worry about familial connections or obligations, for now we are two young people seated together at a fine dinner, free to speak and do as we please, would that be acceptable to you?” He raised his own cup to his lips, the taste of the wine welcomed by his tongue as he waited to see how she would respond.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The young warrior had thought that perhaps his words would serve to lighten the mood, and open the emerald eyed sulking woman up to some conversation. He had certainly garnered a response, but it was one full of mixed signals. Her mouth said one thing and her flushed cheeks said another. The night was definitely going to be interesting. Whether she realized it or not, Daniil had given him a new challenge, and Alexandros never turned down a challenge. She spoke disparagingly of the nobles that surrounded them, and he was sort of inclined to agree. “You speak truly, most nobles are boring fops, but you don’t have to converse with them, we can keep the conversation between we more interesting folks, how does that strike you?” He asked with a smile that dripped charm, his voice was still sweet as he tried to cut through her rough exterior.
She then decided to mock him, which followed as a logical defense, but that only served to give him more cause to speak further. “I assure you, fair lady, that I am no mere implement to be used, perhaps you are too used to the common soldiery and these ignorant fops respected as nobles. You’ve never met a man like me, and you’ll never meet one again. There is none on the face of the Earth like me, and that I can prove. So don’t deride those you have no way of knowing unless you want them to do the same. I’m sure you would hate to be compared to the serving girl or the woman to my left, so why judge me thusly?” He wanted an answer, but he also realized, at this instance while she hid her flushed face in her cup, that she was attempting to deflect his attention away. “Oh, I see. You aren’t used to it, are you? A beautiful girl like you being uncomfortable with receiving the attention of a man, how fascinating. Well, my emerald eyed lady, you have my attention, and we’ll see what happens as the evening grows longer.” His voice was now teasing, and the smirk his lips had curled into was naught but playful. His curiosity was piqued and he wanted nothing more than to see how this woman reacted as the night went on.
Alexandros knew next to nothing about the Marikas house, but he could tell that this particular scion of it would enjoy burning the whole thing to the ground, and that fascinated the young warrior. “Daniil, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Since you feel no honor in your house, we shall leave such things behind us for the night. We need not worry about familial connections or obligations, for now we are two young people seated together at a fine dinner, free to speak and do as we please, would that be acceptable to you?” He raised his own cup to his lips, the taste of the wine welcomed by his tongue as he waited to see how she would respond.
The young warrior had thought that perhaps his words would serve to lighten the mood, and open the emerald eyed sulking woman up to some conversation. He had certainly garnered a response, but it was one full of mixed signals. Her mouth said one thing and her flushed cheeks said another. The night was definitely going to be interesting. Whether she realized it or not, Daniil had given him a new challenge, and Alexandros never turned down a challenge. She spoke disparagingly of the nobles that surrounded them, and he was sort of inclined to agree. “You speak truly, most nobles are boring fops, but you don’t have to converse with them, we can keep the conversation between we more interesting folks, how does that strike you?” He asked with a smile that dripped charm, his voice was still sweet as he tried to cut through her rough exterior.
She then decided to mock him, which followed as a logical defense, but that only served to give him more cause to speak further. “I assure you, fair lady, that I am no mere implement to be used, perhaps you are too used to the common soldiery and these ignorant fops respected as nobles. You’ve never met a man like me, and you’ll never meet one again. There is none on the face of the Earth like me, and that I can prove. So don’t deride those you have no way of knowing unless you want them to do the same. I’m sure you would hate to be compared to the serving girl or the woman to my left, so why judge me thusly?” He wanted an answer, but he also realized, at this instance while she hid her flushed face in her cup, that she was attempting to deflect his attention away. “Oh, I see. You aren’t used to it, are you? A beautiful girl like you being uncomfortable with receiving the attention of a man, how fascinating. Well, my emerald eyed lady, you have my attention, and we’ll see what happens as the evening grows longer.” His voice was now teasing, and the smirk his lips had curled into was naught but playful. His curiosity was piqued and he wanted nothing more than to see how this woman reacted as the night went on.
Alexandros knew next to nothing about the Marikas house, but he could tell that this particular scion of it would enjoy burning the whole thing to the ground, and that fascinated the young warrior. “Daniil, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Since you feel no honor in your house, we shall leave such things behind us for the night. We need not worry about familial connections or obligations, for now we are two young people seated together at a fine dinner, free to speak and do as we please, would that be acceptable to you?” He raised his own cup to his lips, the taste of the wine welcomed by his tongue as he waited to see how she would respond.
There were many great surprises that life presented, ironies that gave one pause and tickled the notions of predetermination into yield. One such was that Rene of Nikolaos, not her older sister, the beautiful blonde Dione, should be the one arriving at the dikastírio this evening of the royals of Colchis. There was a small gracious smile gracing the lips of the demure little dove, even in the solitude of her carriage ride from Illytia where she’d been hosted by a noble family. The great juxtaposition of Rene’s inner sanctum was the desire to make her family proud, as her siblings did, to achieve for herself the accolades that seemed to shower them so prosperously, but her hindrance lay in the ease with which she cast her own self doubt and her reticence. Rene admired her older sister Dione; she was beautiful, tall, long wavy blonde hair, a figure that enticed the men around her and drew their eyes the moment she entered the room. Rene was not so aesthetically fortunate, and she knew this. While she removed herself from the notions that she would achieve elevated rank by winning the hand of an affluent man, Rene garnished some hope that she, too, might find at least some semblance of achievement, though in her creative proclivities instead of her feminine wiles. The greatest avenues for such would be to have her name passed along the mouths of the powerful, nobles and royals alike, pleased with the unique perspective and talent she brought to the table among her nearly all-male contemporaries as she aspired to ascend the ranks of the male dominated echelons of painting and sculpture. A lofty ambition perhaps, but one that Rene kept her gaze fixed upon. Slowly, she was breaking into such a world of prominence, finding favor from the Xanthos monarchy to the affluent nobles of Ophelia’s world in Tangea. Merely scratching the surface for the artist, eager not so much to dispel the conventions of the field monopolized chiefly by men, but rather to add to it, to introduce the magnificent world of creation and perception from the viewpoint of a woman, in hopes that some might welcome the challenge to their status quo of the fine arts. And here lay an opportunity to press the flesh of the most powerful of the kingdoms, and further her blossoming reputation.
When the carriage of her hosts’ house lurched to a stop, the coachman was quick to disembark and open the door, extending a hand that the lady inside may alight the vehicle without balance loss or injury. With her invitation at the ready, she reached forward to accept the coachman’s outstretched hand to steady herself, and emerged from the carriage in a one shouldered gown of the most chaste white. Where the exomie gathered at her left shoulder, instead of an ornamental fibulae, a drape of feathers in gold lamé gracefully spilled down the modest swell of her breasts and across her chest. An unusual feature, the dress bore no belt or ribbon at the waist as was customary, instead, the sides tapered in to showcase the petite young lady’s curves before descending floor length. Where the sides of a peplos might have remained open due to the shape of the fabric held in place, a bit of her leg occasionally peaked out when she moved. Sandals of gold matched the tone of the decorative feathering, with matching arm bands on each bicep consisting of spirals of feathers surrounding the silhouette of a phoenix, the sigil of her house, jewelry that she herself had made just for the occasion. Nestled in her crown of satiny auricomous hair, twisted here and there into a few pinned braids, was a gold tainia that perfectly accompanied the rest of the theme of her outfit. Despite being noble and the tendency for the guards and servants to bow, Rene felt no superiority in such displays. Instead, she reciprocated to each with an excited smile and nod of the head as she made her way inside.
Escorted to the location of the dinner party, Rene gave pause at the threshold, striking blue eyes moving slowly over those gathered in measured abstraction. It was not the physical locale of the setting that caused such trepidation, as she’d grown up playing in the Xanthos paláti for as long as she could remember with Emilia. It was rather the tightening of one’s core when entering court, the momentary seizing of gazes as those gathered might evaluate any new arrival. As an artist, Rene had perfected methodologies of studying people, even sans their awareness. So keen was the eye of an artist, ever seeking inspiration, that she noted even the most subtle of nuances in human behavior and reaction; the position of one’s eyelid, body language, shifting of weight, singular and most fleeting purse of lips, all of it lay within the realm of an artist’s scope, and such insights easily danced into her every-day encounters. Rather than a constructive influence for her art, the heightened awareness of people’s reactions worked against her in social settings, as her brain deduced potential disapproval and dislike being cast in her direction, whether such was true or false. Bashfulness had always been a tremendous hurdle, and learning to clear those hurdles was necessary to continue to gain purchase in her career path. It took effort but Rene pushed aside the penchant for negativity that her mind frequently conjured of its own volition, instilling in her unfounded insecurities. She could do this. BREATH.
Like gazing into a display case of crown jewels, the room was saturated with beautiful glittering people. The highest of society and power from all kingdoms, it was just as being in court in Athenia, but a far greater magnitude given the representation of Colchis and Tangea as well. She needed this moment, needed this event, despite a natural tendency to retreat back to the sanctity of her pottery wheel or painting easel. No. Must not do that. Must remain here. In order to achieve great tiers of accomplishment, she needed this, needed to overcome shyness and doubt, personal pessimism and hesitancy. The color might have blanched summarily from her angelic face, but she continued with collected breaths until she felt satisfied with her composure. Ophelia was here. Somewhere. The Tangean Rose had been magnanimous enough to invite Rene, and she would be forever in her debt for such an opportunity.
Summoning the most heroic of ambitions, Rene took a single step forward across the threshold, plummeting into the world of glitz and glitter, lacquer and shine, which often concealed such vast depths of tarnish and rot. It was part of the reason she avoided court more often than not, a realm in which she hardly felt qualified to traverse, no where close to the even footing required to circumvent the mire of scandal, gossip and nefariousness. With a last deep breath drawn, the tiny Athenian filled her lungs, held it and slowly released, restored a radiant smile to her subtly painted lips and continued in to the symphony of subtle lyre music supplied by a few entertainers amid a curtain of soft conversation. The first order of business was to find her esteemed hostesses, Queen Yanni and Princess Tythra, and graciously thank them for their generosity. A part of her considered finding Ophelia first, her life saver, a buoyant pillow on a turbulent sea that she could cling to to stay afloat. And yes, she would. Ophelia always knew what to do, incapable of grievous infractions of the social variety. But Rene also needed to prove to herself she was greater than the trepidation that gripped her rapid beating little heart. She was greater than her fear. In her mind’s eye, she could see the smiling and kind face of her father Dastros as he had spoken words of encouragement to her many times over the years; “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that some things are more important than fear," he'd said. "Yes patéras," she'd replied in the mousy voice of a small child. Courage. Courage to tread through a grove of acacia trees, with their long sharp thorns. Courage to face criticism, here, or in the future, should her work ever meet with deprecation. Grace under fire was a learned skill, and a crucial one, something that Rene reconfigured in her mind to be a source of personal growth and amelioration, as opposed to destruction and venom. She would not seek out Ophelia and allow her beloved friend to be a crutch on which she supported herself because of her fear. She would seek out her hostesses on her own, and take the first grand step of hopefully many to overcome her shortcomings. And with chin held high and delicate shoulders back, the noble of House Nikolaos entered the opulent collection of dangerous beauties.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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There were many great surprises that life presented, ironies that gave one pause and tickled the notions of predetermination into yield. One such was that Rene of Nikolaos, not her older sister, the beautiful blonde Dione, should be the one arriving at the dikastírio this evening of the royals of Colchis. There was a small gracious smile gracing the lips of the demure little dove, even in the solitude of her carriage ride from Illytia where she’d been hosted by a noble family. The great juxtaposition of Rene’s inner sanctum was the desire to make her family proud, as her siblings did, to achieve for herself the accolades that seemed to shower them so prosperously, but her hindrance lay in the ease with which she cast her own self doubt and her reticence. Rene admired her older sister Dione; she was beautiful, tall, long wavy blonde hair, a figure that enticed the men around her and drew their eyes the moment she entered the room. Rene was not so aesthetically fortunate, and she knew this. While she removed herself from the notions that she would achieve elevated rank by winning the hand of an affluent man, Rene garnished some hope that she, too, might find at least some semblance of achievement, though in her creative proclivities instead of her feminine wiles. The greatest avenues for such would be to have her name passed along the mouths of the powerful, nobles and royals alike, pleased with the unique perspective and talent she brought to the table among her nearly all-male contemporaries as she aspired to ascend the ranks of the male dominated echelons of painting and sculpture. A lofty ambition perhaps, but one that Rene kept her gaze fixed upon. Slowly, she was breaking into such a world of prominence, finding favor from the Xanthos monarchy to the affluent nobles of Ophelia’s world in Tangea. Merely scratching the surface for the artist, eager not so much to dispel the conventions of the field monopolized chiefly by men, but rather to add to it, to introduce the magnificent world of creation and perception from the viewpoint of a woman, in hopes that some might welcome the challenge to their status quo of the fine arts. And here lay an opportunity to press the flesh of the most powerful of the kingdoms, and further her blossoming reputation.
When the carriage of her hosts’ house lurched to a stop, the coachman was quick to disembark and open the door, extending a hand that the lady inside may alight the vehicle without balance loss or injury. With her invitation at the ready, she reached forward to accept the coachman’s outstretched hand to steady herself, and emerged from the carriage in a one shouldered gown of the most chaste white. Where the exomie gathered at her left shoulder, instead of an ornamental fibulae, a drape of feathers in gold lamé gracefully spilled down the modest swell of her breasts and across her chest. An unusual feature, the dress bore no belt or ribbon at the waist as was customary, instead, the sides tapered in to showcase the petite young lady’s curves before descending floor length. Where the sides of a peplos might have remained open due to the shape of the fabric held in place, a bit of her leg occasionally peaked out when she moved. Sandals of gold matched the tone of the decorative feathering, with matching arm bands on each bicep consisting of spirals of feathers surrounding the silhouette of a phoenix, the sigil of her house, jewelry that she herself had made just for the occasion. Nestled in her crown of satiny auricomous hair, twisted here and there into a few pinned braids, was a gold tainia that perfectly accompanied the rest of the theme of her outfit. Despite being noble and the tendency for the guards and servants to bow, Rene felt no superiority in such displays. Instead, she reciprocated to each with an excited smile and nod of the head as she made her way inside.
Escorted to the location of the dinner party, Rene gave pause at the threshold, striking blue eyes moving slowly over those gathered in measured abstraction. It was not the physical locale of the setting that caused such trepidation, as she’d grown up playing in the Xanthos paláti for as long as she could remember with Emilia. It was rather the tightening of one’s core when entering court, the momentary seizing of gazes as those gathered might evaluate any new arrival. As an artist, Rene had perfected methodologies of studying people, even sans their awareness. So keen was the eye of an artist, ever seeking inspiration, that she noted even the most subtle of nuances in human behavior and reaction; the position of one’s eyelid, body language, shifting of weight, singular and most fleeting purse of lips, all of it lay within the realm of an artist’s scope, and such insights easily danced into her every-day encounters. Rather than a constructive influence for her art, the heightened awareness of people’s reactions worked against her in social settings, as her brain deduced potential disapproval and dislike being cast in her direction, whether such was true or false. Bashfulness had always been a tremendous hurdle, and learning to clear those hurdles was necessary to continue to gain purchase in her career path. It took effort but Rene pushed aside the penchant for negativity that her mind frequently conjured of its own volition, instilling in her unfounded insecurities. She could do this. BREATH.
Like gazing into a display case of crown jewels, the room was saturated with beautiful glittering people. The highest of society and power from all kingdoms, it was just as being in court in Athenia, but a far greater magnitude given the representation of Colchis and Tangea as well. She needed this moment, needed this event, despite a natural tendency to retreat back to the sanctity of her pottery wheel or painting easel. No. Must not do that. Must remain here. In order to achieve great tiers of accomplishment, she needed this, needed to overcome shyness and doubt, personal pessimism and hesitancy. The color might have blanched summarily from her angelic face, but she continued with collected breaths until she felt satisfied with her composure. Ophelia was here. Somewhere. The Tangean Rose had been magnanimous enough to invite Rene, and she would be forever in her debt for such an opportunity.
Summoning the most heroic of ambitions, Rene took a single step forward across the threshold, plummeting into the world of glitz and glitter, lacquer and shine, which often concealed such vast depths of tarnish and rot. It was part of the reason she avoided court more often than not, a realm in which she hardly felt qualified to traverse, no where close to the even footing required to circumvent the mire of scandal, gossip and nefariousness. With a last deep breath drawn, the tiny Athenian filled her lungs, held it and slowly released, restored a radiant smile to her subtly painted lips and continued in to the symphony of subtle lyre music supplied by a few entertainers amid a curtain of soft conversation. The first order of business was to find her esteemed hostesses, Queen Yanni and Princess Tythra, and graciously thank them for their generosity. A part of her considered finding Ophelia first, her life saver, a buoyant pillow on a turbulent sea that she could cling to to stay afloat. And yes, she would. Ophelia always knew what to do, incapable of grievous infractions of the social variety. But Rene also needed to prove to herself she was greater than the trepidation that gripped her rapid beating little heart. She was greater than her fear. In her mind’s eye, she could see the smiling and kind face of her father Dastros as he had spoken words of encouragement to her many times over the years; “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that some things are more important than fear," he'd said. "Yes patéras," she'd replied in the mousy voice of a small child. Courage. Courage to tread through a grove of acacia trees, with their long sharp thorns. Courage to face criticism, here, or in the future, should her work ever meet with deprecation. Grace under fire was a learned skill, and a crucial one, something that Rene reconfigured in her mind to be a source of personal growth and amelioration, as opposed to destruction and venom. She would not seek out Ophelia and allow her beloved friend to be a crutch on which she supported herself because of her fear. She would seek out her hostesses on her own, and take the first grand step of hopefully many to overcome her shortcomings. And with chin held high and delicate shoulders back, the noble of House Nikolaos entered the opulent collection of dangerous beauties.
There were many great surprises that life presented, ironies that gave one pause and tickled the notions of predetermination into yield. One such was that Rene of Nikolaos, not her older sister, the beautiful blonde Dione, should be the one arriving at the dikastírio this evening of the royals of Colchis. There was a small gracious smile gracing the lips of the demure little dove, even in the solitude of her carriage ride from Illytia where she’d been hosted by a noble family. The great juxtaposition of Rene’s inner sanctum was the desire to make her family proud, as her siblings did, to achieve for herself the accolades that seemed to shower them so prosperously, but her hindrance lay in the ease with which she cast her own self doubt and her reticence. Rene admired her older sister Dione; she was beautiful, tall, long wavy blonde hair, a figure that enticed the men around her and drew their eyes the moment she entered the room. Rene was not so aesthetically fortunate, and she knew this. While she removed herself from the notions that she would achieve elevated rank by winning the hand of an affluent man, Rene garnished some hope that she, too, might find at least some semblance of achievement, though in her creative proclivities instead of her feminine wiles. The greatest avenues for such would be to have her name passed along the mouths of the powerful, nobles and royals alike, pleased with the unique perspective and talent she brought to the table among her nearly all-male contemporaries as she aspired to ascend the ranks of the male dominated echelons of painting and sculpture. A lofty ambition perhaps, but one that Rene kept her gaze fixed upon. Slowly, she was breaking into such a world of prominence, finding favor from the Xanthos monarchy to the affluent nobles of Ophelia’s world in Tangea. Merely scratching the surface for the artist, eager not so much to dispel the conventions of the field monopolized chiefly by men, but rather to add to it, to introduce the magnificent world of creation and perception from the viewpoint of a woman, in hopes that some might welcome the challenge to their status quo of the fine arts. And here lay an opportunity to press the flesh of the most powerful of the kingdoms, and further her blossoming reputation.
When the carriage of her hosts’ house lurched to a stop, the coachman was quick to disembark and open the door, extending a hand that the lady inside may alight the vehicle without balance loss or injury. With her invitation at the ready, she reached forward to accept the coachman’s outstretched hand to steady herself, and emerged from the carriage in a one shouldered gown of the most chaste white. Where the exomie gathered at her left shoulder, instead of an ornamental fibulae, a drape of feathers in gold lamé gracefully spilled down the modest swell of her breasts and across her chest. An unusual feature, the dress bore no belt or ribbon at the waist as was customary, instead, the sides tapered in to showcase the petite young lady’s curves before descending floor length. Where the sides of a peplos might have remained open due to the shape of the fabric held in place, a bit of her leg occasionally peaked out when she moved. Sandals of gold matched the tone of the decorative feathering, with matching arm bands on each bicep consisting of spirals of feathers surrounding the silhouette of a phoenix, the sigil of her house, jewelry that she herself had made just for the occasion. Nestled in her crown of satiny auricomous hair, twisted here and there into a few pinned braids, was a gold tainia that perfectly accompanied the rest of the theme of her outfit. Despite being noble and the tendency for the guards and servants to bow, Rene felt no superiority in such displays. Instead, she reciprocated to each with an excited smile and nod of the head as she made her way inside.
Escorted to the location of the dinner party, Rene gave pause at the threshold, striking blue eyes moving slowly over those gathered in measured abstraction. It was not the physical locale of the setting that caused such trepidation, as she’d grown up playing in the Xanthos paláti for as long as she could remember with Emilia. It was rather the tightening of one’s core when entering court, the momentary seizing of gazes as those gathered might evaluate any new arrival. As an artist, Rene had perfected methodologies of studying people, even sans their awareness. So keen was the eye of an artist, ever seeking inspiration, that she noted even the most subtle of nuances in human behavior and reaction; the position of one’s eyelid, body language, shifting of weight, singular and most fleeting purse of lips, all of it lay within the realm of an artist’s scope, and such insights easily danced into her every-day encounters. Rather than a constructive influence for her art, the heightened awareness of people’s reactions worked against her in social settings, as her brain deduced potential disapproval and dislike being cast in her direction, whether such was true or false. Bashfulness had always been a tremendous hurdle, and learning to clear those hurdles was necessary to continue to gain purchase in her career path. It took effort but Rene pushed aside the penchant for negativity that her mind frequently conjured of its own volition, instilling in her unfounded insecurities. She could do this. BREATH.
Like gazing into a display case of crown jewels, the room was saturated with beautiful glittering people. The highest of society and power from all kingdoms, it was just as being in court in Athenia, but a far greater magnitude given the representation of Colchis and Tangea as well. She needed this moment, needed this event, despite a natural tendency to retreat back to the sanctity of her pottery wheel or painting easel. No. Must not do that. Must remain here. In order to achieve great tiers of accomplishment, she needed this, needed to overcome shyness and doubt, personal pessimism and hesitancy. The color might have blanched summarily from her angelic face, but she continued with collected breaths until she felt satisfied with her composure. Ophelia was here. Somewhere. The Tangean Rose had been magnanimous enough to invite Rene, and she would be forever in her debt for such an opportunity.
Summoning the most heroic of ambitions, Rene took a single step forward across the threshold, plummeting into the world of glitz and glitter, lacquer and shine, which often concealed such vast depths of tarnish and rot. It was part of the reason she avoided court more often than not, a realm in which she hardly felt qualified to traverse, no where close to the even footing required to circumvent the mire of scandal, gossip and nefariousness. With a last deep breath drawn, the tiny Athenian filled her lungs, held it and slowly released, restored a radiant smile to her subtly painted lips and continued in to the symphony of subtle lyre music supplied by a few entertainers amid a curtain of soft conversation. The first order of business was to find her esteemed hostesses, Queen Yanni and Princess Tythra, and graciously thank them for their generosity. A part of her considered finding Ophelia first, her life saver, a buoyant pillow on a turbulent sea that she could cling to to stay afloat. And yes, she would. Ophelia always knew what to do, incapable of grievous infractions of the social variety. But Rene also needed to prove to herself she was greater than the trepidation that gripped her rapid beating little heart. She was greater than her fear. In her mind’s eye, she could see the smiling and kind face of her father Dastros as he had spoken words of encouragement to her many times over the years; “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that some things are more important than fear," he'd said. "Yes patéras," she'd replied in the mousy voice of a small child. Courage. Courage to tread through a grove of acacia trees, with their long sharp thorns. Courage to face criticism, here, or in the future, should her work ever meet with deprecation. Grace under fire was a learned skill, and a crucial one, something that Rene reconfigured in her mind to be a source of personal growth and amelioration, as opposed to destruction and venom. She would not seek out Ophelia and allow her beloved friend to be a crutch on which she supported herself because of her fear. She would seek out her hostesses on her own, and take the first grand step of hopefully many to overcome her shortcomings. And with chin held high and delicate shoulders back, the noble of House Nikolaos entered the opulent collection of dangerous beauties.
Something very, very strange was happening here. Despite her open hostility and mockery, this man was still here. Still speaking to her. In fact, not only was he still speaking to her, but he seemed even more interested in her. How was that possible? Any man that spoke to her was deflected away by her insults and her tone, but not this one. Perhaps his boastful claims of being unlike other men had some merit to them, but she had yet to be convinced. Being unable to take a clear indication that she was not interested in speaking to him was not a virtue she would consider worthy of a second look, yet she could not deny the flush in her cheeks, nor the racing of her heart, the rhythm of its pounding in her ear.
“Rather bold of you to differentiate yourself from the boring fops and assume you are not simply one of them. It does not take the blood of nobility to fall into the trappings of its mundanity, nor their games. I have yet to determine if you are interesting, man.” She spat the word out like poison, a vitriol that signaled a deep loathing of even the very concept of men. And she immediately hid her face behind the wine cup again, drinking deeply.
She had wondered if her jab would get a rise out of him, hoping that it would incense him, and begin an argument. An argument she could handle. She understood arguments. Thrived off of them, off of confrontation and angry words. But he did not rise to the bait. Instead, he turned the insult back onto her, claiming that she was simply unused to the attention. That made her choke on her drink of wine, forced to make the humiliating save of clearing her throat as her face flushed deeper. The wine. It had to be the wine making her face scarlet. It was not this man, nor his stupid and inane attempts to seduce her. That was ridiculous.
“There is one truth in your statements, man, and it is thus: there are indeed no other men on this earth as foolish as you. The serving girls do admirable work, and my only complaint is they are not free to refuse service to their male masters. As for your claim that I am simply unused to the male gaze and attention, you may save your precious breath from being wasted. The only thing that will happen as this evening grows longer is I may feel the need to repurpose the tool calling himself a man as a repository for my spilled wine!”
She retreated back to her wine cup, draining it, and signaling for a server to refill it, almost trembling with embarrassment. Gods damn this man! Artemis take his manhood for such audacity, forcing her into this corner!
“Free. I am free to do nothing so long as I lack the cock my father is so insistent his preferred child must have. But if you must insist on persisting in your futile efforts to incense or seduce me, then you may call me Daniil.”
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Something very, very strange was happening here. Despite her open hostility and mockery, this man was still here. Still speaking to her. In fact, not only was he still speaking to her, but he seemed even more interested in her. How was that possible? Any man that spoke to her was deflected away by her insults and her tone, but not this one. Perhaps his boastful claims of being unlike other men had some merit to them, but she had yet to be convinced. Being unable to take a clear indication that she was not interested in speaking to him was not a virtue she would consider worthy of a second look, yet she could not deny the flush in her cheeks, nor the racing of her heart, the rhythm of its pounding in her ear.
“Rather bold of you to differentiate yourself from the boring fops and assume you are not simply one of them. It does not take the blood of nobility to fall into the trappings of its mundanity, nor their games. I have yet to determine if you are interesting, man.” She spat the word out like poison, a vitriol that signaled a deep loathing of even the very concept of men. And she immediately hid her face behind the wine cup again, drinking deeply.
She had wondered if her jab would get a rise out of him, hoping that it would incense him, and begin an argument. An argument she could handle. She understood arguments. Thrived off of them, off of confrontation and angry words. But he did not rise to the bait. Instead, he turned the insult back onto her, claiming that she was simply unused to the attention. That made her choke on her drink of wine, forced to make the humiliating save of clearing her throat as her face flushed deeper. The wine. It had to be the wine making her face scarlet. It was not this man, nor his stupid and inane attempts to seduce her. That was ridiculous.
“There is one truth in your statements, man, and it is thus: there are indeed no other men on this earth as foolish as you. The serving girls do admirable work, and my only complaint is they are not free to refuse service to their male masters. As for your claim that I am simply unused to the male gaze and attention, you may save your precious breath from being wasted. The only thing that will happen as this evening grows longer is I may feel the need to repurpose the tool calling himself a man as a repository for my spilled wine!”
She retreated back to her wine cup, draining it, and signaling for a server to refill it, almost trembling with embarrassment. Gods damn this man! Artemis take his manhood for such audacity, forcing her into this corner!
“Free. I am free to do nothing so long as I lack the cock my father is so insistent his preferred child must have. But if you must insist on persisting in your futile efforts to incense or seduce me, then you may call me Daniil.”
Something very, very strange was happening here. Despite her open hostility and mockery, this man was still here. Still speaking to her. In fact, not only was he still speaking to her, but he seemed even more interested in her. How was that possible? Any man that spoke to her was deflected away by her insults and her tone, but not this one. Perhaps his boastful claims of being unlike other men had some merit to them, but she had yet to be convinced. Being unable to take a clear indication that she was not interested in speaking to him was not a virtue she would consider worthy of a second look, yet she could not deny the flush in her cheeks, nor the racing of her heart, the rhythm of its pounding in her ear.
“Rather bold of you to differentiate yourself from the boring fops and assume you are not simply one of them. It does not take the blood of nobility to fall into the trappings of its mundanity, nor their games. I have yet to determine if you are interesting, man.” She spat the word out like poison, a vitriol that signaled a deep loathing of even the very concept of men. And she immediately hid her face behind the wine cup again, drinking deeply.
She had wondered if her jab would get a rise out of him, hoping that it would incense him, and begin an argument. An argument she could handle. She understood arguments. Thrived off of them, off of confrontation and angry words. But he did not rise to the bait. Instead, he turned the insult back onto her, claiming that she was simply unused to the attention. That made her choke on her drink of wine, forced to make the humiliating save of clearing her throat as her face flushed deeper. The wine. It had to be the wine making her face scarlet. It was not this man, nor his stupid and inane attempts to seduce her. That was ridiculous.
“There is one truth in your statements, man, and it is thus: there are indeed no other men on this earth as foolish as you. The serving girls do admirable work, and my only complaint is they are not free to refuse service to their male masters. As for your claim that I am simply unused to the male gaze and attention, you may save your precious breath from being wasted. The only thing that will happen as this evening grows longer is I may feel the need to repurpose the tool calling himself a man as a repository for my spilled wine!”
She retreated back to her wine cup, draining it, and signaling for a server to refill it, almost trembling with embarrassment. Gods damn this man! Artemis take his manhood for such audacity, forcing her into this corner!
“Free. I am free to do nothing so long as I lack the cock my father is so insistent his preferred child must have. But if you must insist on persisting in your futile efforts to incense or seduce me, then you may call me Daniil.”
“Rather bold of you to differentiate yourself from the boring fops and assume you are not simply one of them. It does not take the blood of nobility to fall into the trappings of its mundanity, nor their games. I have yet to determine if you are interesting, man.”
The amount of venom with which she spat the word man was impressive, and Alexandros was certain that someone had caused some deep seated issues within her about the inequality of the genders. “I don’t play their games, and I am certainty not mundane. Everything I possess I took at the tip of my sword and I will continue to carve my own place in this world. I wasn’t gifted land or status at birth like those useless fools were. The skill of my arms and the abilities of my mind have earned me my place and I have no intention of being halted here. If that’s what you hold as mundane, woman,” he spoke the word in the nearest imitation to her own tone as he could, but a smirk belied the continued teasing nature. “Then you should have a re-evaluation, perhaps away from whatever man has harmed you so.”
“There is one truth in your statements, man, and it is thus: there are indeed no other men on this earth as foolish as you. The serving girls do admirable work, and my only complaint is they are not free to refuse service to their male masters. As for your claim that I am simply unused to the male gaze and attention, you may save your precious breath from being wasted. The only thing that will happen as this evening grows longer is I may feel the need to repurpose the tool calling himself a man as a repository for my spilled wine!”
Alexandros laughed in response to her tirade. “You will find plenty more foolish than I, woman. To start perhaps we should begin with the head of your house the patriarch you hate so thoroughly, surely this man thinks to control you, something we both know cannot be done. You should be honest with yourself, it’s not that these serving women can’t decline to service their masters, it’s that you aren’t free to have who you choose, isn’t it? You wish that you had the freedom to have whatever partner stuck your fancy. Don’t lie to me or yourself, it does no one any good, woman.” His voice had grown soft as he responded to her. He wanted to ensure that no one else could hear any of their discussion. This was not a topic to be freely broadcast, and he was savvy enough of his situation to avoid the potential disaster that would be revealing such things. “I would suggest that unless you also wish to be covered in wine, that you refrain from calling me a tool or pouring your drink upon me. I will repay whatever slight you give in kind, woman.”
“Free. I am free to do nothing so long as I lack the cock my father is so insistent his preferred child must have. But if you must insist on persisting in your futile efforts to incense or seduce me, then you may call me Daniil.”
The young officer had finished his own cup of wine and allowed the server to refill his after her cup. “You are as free as you wish to be while we speak here. Your father who so wished you were a son cannot control your mind or your tongue. So speak to me, reveal these thoughts of yours. Forget the father that wronged you and be yourself for at least this evening.” His blue eyes closed as he laughed again. “Trust me woman, if I wished to seduce you, there would be no question that I was trying to charm you. We are having a conversation, and if you prefer to be called Daniil over woman, then you shall call me Alexandros, and we can leave these childish antics behind for a real discussion.”
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“Rather bold of you to differentiate yourself from the boring fops and assume you are not simply one of them. It does not take the blood of nobility to fall into the trappings of its mundanity, nor their games. I have yet to determine if you are interesting, man.”
The amount of venom with which she spat the word man was impressive, and Alexandros was certain that someone had caused some deep seated issues within her about the inequality of the genders. “I don’t play their games, and I am certainty not mundane. Everything I possess I took at the tip of my sword and I will continue to carve my own place in this world. I wasn’t gifted land or status at birth like those useless fools were. The skill of my arms and the abilities of my mind have earned me my place and I have no intention of being halted here. If that’s what you hold as mundane, woman,” he spoke the word in the nearest imitation to her own tone as he could, but a smirk belied the continued teasing nature. “Then you should have a re-evaluation, perhaps away from whatever man has harmed you so.”
“There is one truth in your statements, man, and it is thus: there are indeed no other men on this earth as foolish as you. The serving girls do admirable work, and my only complaint is they are not free to refuse service to their male masters. As for your claim that I am simply unused to the male gaze and attention, you may save your precious breath from being wasted. The only thing that will happen as this evening grows longer is I may feel the need to repurpose the tool calling himself a man as a repository for my spilled wine!”
Alexandros laughed in response to her tirade. “You will find plenty more foolish than I, woman. To start perhaps we should begin with the head of your house the patriarch you hate so thoroughly, surely this man thinks to control you, something we both know cannot be done. You should be honest with yourself, it’s not that these serving women can’t decline to service their masters, it’s that you aren’t free to have who you choose, isn’t it? You wish that you had the freedom to have whatever partner stuck your fancy. Don’t lie to me or yourself, it does no one any good, woman.” His voice had grown soft as he responded to her. He wanted to ensure that no one else could hear any of their discussion. This was not a topic to be freely broadcast, and he was savvy enough of his situation to avoid the potential disaster that would be revealing such things. “I would suggest that unless you also wish to be covered in wine, that you refrain from calling me a tool or pouring your drink upon me. I will repay whatever slight you give in kind, woman.”
“Free. I am free to do nothing so long as I lack the cock my father is so insistent his preferred child must have. But if you must insist on persisting in your futile efforts to incense or seduce me, then you may call me Daniil.”
The young officer had finished his own cup of wine and allowed the server to refill his after her cup. “You are as free as you wish to be while we speak here. Your father who so wished you were a son cannot control your mind or your tongue. So speak to me, reveal these thoughts of yours. Forget the father that wronged you and be yourself for at least this evening.” His blue eyes closed as he laughed again. “Trust me woman, if I wished to seduce you, there would be no question that I was trying to charm you. We are having a conversation, and if you prefer to be called Daniil over woman, then you shall call me Alexandros, and we can leave these childish antics behind for a real discussion.”
“Rather bold of you to differentiate yourself from the boring fops and assume you are not simply one of them. It does not take the blood of nobility to fall into the trappings of its mundanity, nor their games. I have yet to determine if you are interesting, man.”
The amount of venom with which she spat the word man was impressive, and Alexandros was certain that someone had caused some deep seated issues within her about the inequality of the genders. “I don’t play their games, and I am certainty not mundane. Everything I possess I took at the tip of my sword and I will continue to carve my own place in this world. I wasn’t gifted land or status at birth like those useless fools were. The skill of my arms and the abilities of my mind have earned me my place and I have no intention of being halted here. If that’s what you hold as mundane, woman,” he spoke the word in the nearest imitation to her own tone as he could, but a smirk belied the continued teasing nature. “Then you should have a re-evaluation, perhaps away from whatever man has harmed you so.”
“There is one truth in your statements, man, and it is thus: there are indeed no other men on this earth as foolish as you. The serving girls do admirable work, and my only complaint is they are not free to refuse service to their male masters. As for your claim that I am simply unused to the male gaze and attention, you may save your precious breath from being wasted. The only thing that will happen as this evening grows longer is I may feel the need to repurpose the tool calling himself a man as a repository for my spilled wine!”
Alexandros laughed in response to her tirade. “You will find plenty more foolish than I, woman. To start perhaps we should begin with the head of your house the patriarch you hate so thoroughly, surely this man thinks to control you, something we both know cannot be done. You should be honest with yourself, it’s not that these serving women can’t decline to service their masters, it’s that you aren’t free to have who you choose, isn’t it? You wish that you had the freedom to have whatever partner stuck your fancy. Don’t lie to me or yourself, it does no one any good, woman.” His voice had grown soft as he responded to her. He wanted to ensure that no one else could hear any of their discussion. This was not a topic to be freely broadcast, and he was savvy enough of his situation to avoid the potential disaster that would be revealing such things. “I would suggest that unless you also wish to be covered in wine, that you refrain from calling me a tool or pouring your drink upon me. I will repay whatever slight you give in kind, woman.”
“Free. I am free to do nothing so long as I lack the cock my father is so insistent his preferred child must have. But if you must insist on persisting in your futile efforts to incense or seduce me, then you may call me Daniil.”
The young officer had finished his own cup of wine and allowed the server to refill his after her cup. “You are as free as you wish to be while we speak here. Your father who so wished you were a son cannot control your mind or your tongue. So speak to me, reveal these thoughts of yours. Forget the father that wronged you and be yourself for at least this evening.” His blue eyes closed as he laughed again. “Trust me woman, if I wished to seduce you, there would be no question that I was trying to charm you. We are having a conversation, and if you prefer to be called Daniil over woman, then you shall call me Alexandros, and we can leave these childish antics behind for a real discussion.”
Was he. . . laughing at her?! He was mocking her! Returning her vitriol with the same, not backing down for an instant. Honestly, it was shocking. It forced her back to straighten, for it seems that she must take this verbal sparring partner more seriously than she had initially believed. He was quicker than she had anticipated, more intellectually agile than she had given him credit for. And most importantly, he did not simply brush her aside. Perhaps he was more worthy of her time and her conversation than she had initially believed him to be. Yes, she had to admit, he was indeed interesting. But she would never tell him that.
"Ambition, then. Is that your aim? Land, titles? All earned at the point of a sword? Conquest and blood, legend and glory. Assume not you know what vexes me of your sex, for you know nothing of me or the men in my life."
His comments about her lack of freedom for her preferences sent her back into the cup of wine in an attempt to hide the wince that crossed her features. He was observant. Quick-witted. And she had been foolish in showing her hand too early, allowing him to fluster her and reveal her secrets too easily. Damn him. Damn him to the depths of Hades!
"I desire the company of no man. Desire and lust are the abyss into which is drained the ambitions and righteousness of women and men. It is a trap into which most would direct themselves full-bore, and it is not one into which I intend to fall. I do not intend to marry, or bear children into this world. I intend to be free. Make of that what you will, call it lies or truth, it matters to me naught." Of course during that her eyes would occasionally flick to him, or to the women around them, drinking in their beauty, and cursing herself for giving that away. That was a secret that no one in this world knew, and not one she intended to reveal, either.
"To forget the sins of the father is to forget the lessons they have taught. I am yet unconvinced you only desire this conversation you are so insistent upon to partake of what you believe are my womanly charms, but so be it. If we are to be forced together in this place, let it be with some degree of amicability. What is it you wish of me, Alexandros the Fool?"
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Was he. . . laughing at her?! He was mocking her! Returning her vitriol with the same, not backing down for an instant. Honestly, it was shocking. It forced her back to straighten, for it seems that she must take this verbal sparring partner more seriously than she had initially believed. He was quicker than she had anticipated, more intellectually agile than she had given him credit for. And most importantly, he did not simply brush her aside. Perhaps he was more worthy of her time and her conversation than she had initially believed him to be. Yes, she had to admit, he was indeed interesting. But she would never tell him that.
"Ambition, then. Is that your aim? Land, titles? All earned at the point of a sword? Conquest and blood, legend and glory. Assume not you know what vexes me of your sex, for you know nothing of me or the men in my life."
His comments about her lack of freedom for her preferences sent her back into the cup of wine in an attempt to hide the wince that crossed her features. He was observant. Quick-witted. And she had been foolish in showing her hand too early, allowing him to fluster her and reveal her secrets too easily. Damn him. Damn him to the depths of Hades!
"I desire the company of no man. Desire and lust are the abyss into which is drained the ambitions and righteousness of women and men. It is a trap into which most would direct themselves full-bore, and it is not one into which I intend to fall. I do not intend to marry, or bear children into this world. I intend to be free. Make of that what you will, call it lies or truth, it matters to me naught." Of course during that her eyes would occasionally flick to him, or to the women around them, drinking in their beauty, and cursing herself for giving that away. That was a secret that no one in this world knew, and not one she intended to reveal, either.
"To forget the sins of the father is to forget the lessons they have taught. I am yet unconvinced you only desire this conversation you are so insistent upon to partake of what you believe are my womanly charms, but so be it. If we are to be forced together in this place, let it be with some degree of amicability. What is it you wish of me, Alexandros the Fool?"
Was he. . . laughing at her?! He was mocking her! Returning her vitriol with the same, not backing down for an instant. Honestly, it was shocking. It forced her back to straighten, for it seems that she must take this verbal sparring partner more seriously than she had initially believed. He was quicker than she had anticipated, more intellectually agile than she had given him credit for. And most importantly, he did not simply brush her aside. Perhaps he was more worthy of her time and her conversation than she had initially believed him to be. Yes, she had to admit, he was indeed interesting. But she would never tell him that.
"Ambition, then. Is that your aim? Land, titles? All earned at the point of a sword? Conquest and blood, legend and glory. Assume not you know what vexes me of your sex, for you know nothing of me or the men in my life."
His comments about her lack of freedom for her preferences sent her back into the cup of wine in an attempt to hide the wince that crossed her features. He was observant. Quick-witted. And she had been foolish in showing her hand too early, allowing him to fluster her and reveal her secrets too easily. Damn him. Damn him to the depths of Hades!
"I desire the company of no man. Desire and lust are the abyss into which is drained the ambitions and righteousness of women and men. It is a trap into which most would direct themselves full-bore, and it is not one into which I intend to fall. I do not intend to marry, or bear children into this world. I intend to be free. Make of that what you will, call it lies or truth, it matters to me naught." Of course during that her eyes would occasionally flick to him, or to the women around them, drinking in their beauty, and cursing herself for giving that away. That was a secret that no one in this world knew, and not one she intended to reveal, either.
"To forget the sins of the father is to forget the lessons they have taught. I am yet unconvinced you only desire this conversation you are so insistent upon to partake of what you believe are my womanly charms, but so be it. If we are to be forced together in this place, let it be with some degree of amicability. What is it you wish of me, Alexandros the Fool?"
While most of the invited guests had taken their seats, it was evident that some had chosen for whatever benign reason, not to attend. Their empty seats were soon swallowed up either permanently or temporarily by those intent on conversing with others not already nearby. The night was still young, so most patrons were still attending to polite commentary, rather than anything with real merit. Nonetheless, Thea quietly watched, her gaze only hovering on the same person for a few moments, before bouncing to the next. If she noted anything of relative interest, such as the tense way the Leventi girl sat beside the Kotas crown prince, then her gaze would linger for a beat longer, before moving along.
It was curious that the prized jewel of the Leventi house arrived with Zacharias, despite not the two not sitting together. Curious, but not particularly noteworthy. As it were, Thea’s own family were scattered along the table, with her father at the head of the second table, quite close to Vangelis and the Leventi girl. Thea noticed the look of relief on the Condos girl’s face when Selene turned to speak with Vangelis, but given the relationship between Leventi and Condos, Thea could only imagine there was some sort of forced amiability there. What did catch Thea’s attention for more than a mere moment, was the curiously unrecognisable woman that came in on the Kotas girl’s arm. Athenasia looked unsurprisingly the picturesque image of a princess, which was all very expected. She seemed to be forming into the very image of her mother, which was all quite mundane. The other woman however was dressed in a bold red. Thea’s critical gaze followed the woman, unable to hear any words that passed her lips, but it was no matter. Thea would learn who she was one way or another.
Scanning the large room once more,Thea noted the arrival of the younger Nikolaos girl. If ever there was someone who did not look comfortable in a room full of royalty and nobles alike, it was young Rene. Her eyes were wide and Thea could see the colour draining from her doll-like cheeks from her place at the table. She would get eaten alive.
Moving along, Thea didn’t notice much else of interest. Some soldier was talking quite keenly to the abrasive Marikas girl. Thea had not much to do with her outside of formalities, but Daniil’s pubescent-like rebellious tantrums did not pique Thea’s interests. She mildly entertained the idea of appealing to the girl in hopes to twist her around right beneath Panos’ nose, but the girl seemed to disappoint him easily enough all on her own. To see an admittedly handsome young man investing such keen interest in her was surprising. Either he was incredibly desperate or, clutching at what he hoped was an easy step into the world of nobility.
Curling her fingers around her goblet of wine, Thea brought the chalice to her lips as Nethis occupied the seat beside her. Thea turned her gaze to her sister, awarding Nethis her full attention as she leaned back in her chair.
’I see we are teaching lessons today. I caught the end of yours.’
Thea took a purposeful sip from her goblet, her gaze never leaving her sister. It did not surprise her that Nethis had noticed Thea’s work. Nethis could always be trusted to be aware of the goings on around her. It was why their proud house had stood so strong still even in their father’s absence, for it may not have been directly spoken, but it was certainly understood that Dysius would be incapable on his own.
’You do it so quietly, I fear I’ll get the credit for your work.’
Now that was amusing. It seemed the fools outside were more dense than she’d thought, and Thea had not held any regard for their intellect. It seemed Nethis had been unfairly blamed for Thea’s actions, much to the younger sister’s amusement. She had not planned for Nethis to take the blame, but it bothered Thea not that the credit was not rightly placed on herself. She’d already been rewarded with a mild piece of amusement for her efforts, and the night had barely begun.
’What pricked so well it was worth it?’
That was cute. Having grown up together, both girls knew each other’s strategies quite well. Nonetheless, Thea set her goblet down on the table once more, flicking her knowing gaze back at her sister. If Thea had less control over her reactions, she may have taken the bait and immediately sprung to defend her case, whether in humour or otherwise. If she intended to be seen as witty, she may have given a clever retort, or a gracious laugh if she opted to be polite. Thea cared not to feign any sort of expression at all, besides the slightest of smirks for Nethis’ benefit. For herself, she had not cared enough to act so to speak; she was not so easily offended as Nethis knew. However, Thea understood the drunks’ desire to build themselves up by targeting those above them. They sought to forget about their pitiful lives for even just a brief moment, by inflicting some sort of shame or embarrassment on their targets. Thea may have found their little song amusing if not for their awful singing, but the opportunity to rip the fragile confidence they’d built for themselves was too delicious to pass up.
No doubt they would have expected someone to ask a guard to usher them away, which would have spurred them to carry on even further. They likely hoped for the gallant men attending to speak up in defence of the noble women, or even better, have someone snap at them in a show of unbridled embarrassment or irritation. When met with a person or group who seemed to have an unstable sense of their own security, Thea thrived to find whatever it was that did not expect, to break it all down. It was satisfying in a way she did not bother to explain. She did not need the instant gratification that came with the more forward approaches with tending to a nuisance. Thea was content knowing she’d succeeded. She had thought at least one of the fools outside would have figured her hand in the matter, but either way she’d enjoyed the morsel of amusement.
Just as Thea went to comment, her gaze flickered momentarily towards Ophelia of Condos, who seemed inclined to enter the conversation, ’They might have called her a witch. Though a ghost might be more fitting, don’t you think? It is such a shame that your sister is so terribly shy, especially since you, dear Nethis, are so very...skilled...in the art of conversation.’
Well, Thea had never formally met Ophelia, the Condos Rose, but she knew of her and her family’s little rivalry with the Leventi. How easily wound up they seemed to get over petty little details. Ophelia was not much younger than Thea herself, yet her attire—as sickeningly sweet as her tone—suggested a desire to attract a suitor. Even Evras, the youngest of the Thanasi ’witches’ had landed a husband, and a Kotas boy at that. Yet despite Ophelia’s efforts, she was without a man on her arm. Perhaps that made for the true stiffness Ophelia seemed to have towards the Leventi girl earlier. Despite Thea’s own distaste for the Kotas, even she could recognise that in the eyes of the lesser houses, landing Vangelis—the heir apparent of Colchis—was an advantageous match, should the unfortunate wench be able to tolerate his insufferable nature. He was attractive though, so Thea figured perhaps that and the promise of a crown would be enough to make any prospecting women eager to be seen by him.
Why though, Ophelia felt the need to inject herself into a conversation between sisters, especially when she was quite literally surrounded by Thanasi, Thea did not know. It seemed both Nethis and the Conos girl were intent on trying to get a rise out of her. At least where Nethis was concerned, it wouldn’t have surprised her that Thea would have denied her that very reaction. Ophelia though, Thea wondered how she assumed Thea would ‘react’. She clearly had her mind made up about both she and Nethis, and it seemed Nethis was the catalyst for that. How appropriate that information be made clear given it was Nethis who was unrightly blamed for Thea’s actions only moments ago.
With a sly smirk and the piercing gaze like that of a snake, Thea leaned her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together to rest her chin in the junction of her fingers. “Terribly shy,” Thea drawled in a mocking tone, her smirk purposeful and challenging. If the little Condos rose wanted to be Thea’s play thing, then that would at least pass the time until something of interest happened.
Lani
Thea
Lani
Thea
Awards
First Impressions:Lithe; Thick dark hair, sharp, pale features and striking blue eyes.
Address: Your Her Ladyship
While most of the invited guests had taken their seats, it was evident that some had chosen for whatever benign reason, not to attend. Their empty seats were soon swallowed up either permanently or temporarily by those intent on conversing with others not already nearby. The night was still young, so most patrons were still attending to polite commentary, rather than anything with real merit. Nonetheless, Thea quietly watched, her gaze only hovering on the same person for a few moments, before bouncing to the next. If she noted anything of relative interest, such as the tense way the Leventi girl sat beside the Kotas crown prince, then her gaze would linger for a beat longer, before moving along.
It was curious that the prized jewel of the Leventi house arrived with Zacharias, despite not the two not sitting together. Curious, but not particularly noteworthy. As it were, Thea’s own family were scattered along the table, with her father at the head of the second table, quite close to Vangelis and the Leventi girl. Thea noticed the look of relief on the Condos girl’s face when Selene turned to speak with Vangelis, but given the relationship between Leventi and Condos, Thea could only imagine there was some sort of forced amiability there. What did catch Thea’s attention for more than a mere moment, was the curiously unrecognisable woman that came in on the Kotas girl’s arm. Athenasia looked unsurprisingly the picturesque image of a princess, which was all very expected. She seemed to be forming into the very image of her mother, which was all quite mundane. The other woman however was dressed in a bold red. Thea’s critical gaze followed the woman, unable to hear any words that passed her lips, but it was no matter. Thea would learn who she was one way or another.
Scanning the large room once more,Thea noted the arrival of the younger Nikolaos girl. If ever there was someone who did not look comfortable in a room full of royalty and nobles alike, it was young Rene. Her eyes were wide and Thea could see the colour draining from her doll-like cheeks from her place at the table. She would get eaten alive.
Moving along, Thea didn’t notice much else of interest. Some soldier was talking quite keenly to the abrasive Marikas girl. Thea had not much to do with her outside of formalities, but Daniil’s pubescent-like rebellious tantrums did not pique Thea’s interests. She mildly entertained the idea of appealing to the girl in hopes to twist her around right beneath Panos’ nose, but the girl seemed to disappoint him easily enough all on her own. To see an admittedly handsome young man investing such keen interest in her was surprising. Either he was incredibly desperate or, clutching at what he hoped was an easy step into the world of nobility.
Curling her fingers around her goblet of wine, Thea brought the chalice to her lips as Nethis occupied the seat beside her. Thea turned her gaze to her sister, awarding Nethis her full attention as she leaned back in her chair.
’I see we are teaching lessons today. I caught the end of yours.’
Thea took a purposeful sip from her goblet, her gaze never leaving her sister. It did not surprise her that Nethis had noticed Thea’s work. Nethis could always be trusted to be aware of the goings on around her. It was why their proud house had stood so strong still even in their father’s absence, for it may not have been directly spoken, but it was certainly understood that Dysius would be incapable on his own.
’You do it so quietly, I fear I’ll get the credit for your work.’
Now that was amusing. It seemed the fools outside were more dense than she’d thought, and Thea had not held any regard for their intellect. It seemed Nethis had been unfairly blamed for Thea’s actions, much to the younger sister’s amusement. She had not planned for Nethis to take the blame, but it bothered Thea not that the credit was not rightly placed on herself. She’d already been rewarded with a mild piece of amusement for her efforts, and the night had barely begun.
’What pricked so well it was worth it?’
That was cute. Having grown up together, both girls knew each other’s strategies quite well. Nonetheless, Thea set her goblet down on the table once more, flicking her knowing gaze back at her sister. If Thea had less control over her reactions, she may have taken the bait and immediately sprung to defend her case, whether in humour or otherwise. If she intended to be seen as witty, she may have given a clever retort, or a gracious laugh if she opted to be polite. Thea cared not to feign any sort of expression at all, besides the slightest of smirks for Nethis’ benefit. For herself, she had not cared enough to act so to speak; she was not so easily offended as Nethis knew. However, Thea understood the drunks’ desire to build themselves up by targeting those above them. They sought to forget about their pitiful lives for even just a brief moment, by inflicting some sort of shame or embarrassment on their targets. Thea may have found their little song amusing if not for their awful singing, but the opportunity to rip the fragile confidence they’d built for themselves was too delicious to pass up.
No doubt they would have expected someone to ask a guard to usher them away, which would have spurred them to carry on even further. They likely hoped for the gallant men attending to speak up in defence of the noble women, or even better, have someone snap at them in a show of unbridled embarrassment or irritation. When met with a person or group who seemed to have an unstable sense of their own security, Thea thrived to find whatever it was that did not expect, to break it all down. It was satisfying in a way she did not bother to explain. She did not need the instant gratification that came with the more forward approaches with tending to a nuisance. Thea was content knowing she’d succeeded. She had thought at least one of the fools outside would have figured her hand in the matter, but either way she’d enjoyed the morsel of amusement.
Just as Thea went to comment, her gaze flickered momentarily towards Ophelia of Condos, who seemed inclined to enter the conversation, ’They might have called her a witch. Though a ghost might be more fitting, don’t you think? It is such a shame that your sister is so terribly shy, especially since you, dear Nethis, are so very...skilled...in the art of conversation.’
Well, Thea had never formally met Ophelia, the Condos Rose, but she knew of her and her family’s little rivalry with the Leventi. How easily wound up they seemed to get over petty little details. Ophelia was not much younger than Thea herself, yet her attire—as sickeningly sweet as her tone—suggested a desire to attract a suitor. Even Evras, the youngest of the Thanasi ’witches’ had landed a husband, and a Kotas boy at that. Yet despite Ophelia’s efforts, she was without a man on her arm. Perhaps that made for the true stiffness Ophelia seemed to have towards the Leventi girl earlier. Despite Thea’s own distaste for the Kotas, even she could recognise that in the eyes of the lesser houses, landing Vangelis—the heir apparent of Colchis—was an advantageous match, should the unfortunate wench be able to tolerate his insufferable nature. He was attractive though, so Thea figured perhaps that and the promise of a crown would be enough to make any prospecting women eager to be seen by him.
Why though, Ophelia felt the need to inject herself into a conversation between sisters, especially when she was quite literally surrounded by Thanasi, Thea did not know. It seemed both Nethis and the Conos girl were intent on trying to get a rise out of her. At least where Nethis was concerned, it wouldn’t have surprised her that Thea would have denied her that very reaction. Ophelia though, Thea wondered how she assumed Thea would ‘react’. She clearly had her mind made up about both she and Nethis, and it seemed Nethis was the catalyst for that. How appropriate that information be made clear given it was Nethis who was unrightly blamed for Thea’s actions only moments ago.
With a sly smirk and the piercing gaze like that of a snake, Thea leaned her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together to rest her chin in the junction of her fingers. “Terribly shy,” Thea drawled in a mocking tone, her smirk purposeful and challenging. If the little Condos rose wanted to be Thea’s play thing, then that would at least pass the time until something of interest happened.
While most of the invited guests had taken their seats, it was evident that some had chosen for whatever benign reason, not to attend. Their empty seats were soon swallowed up either permanently or temporarily by those intent on conversing with others not already nearby. The night was still young, so most patrons were still attending to polite commentary, rather than anything with real merit. Nonetheless, Thea quietly watched, her gaze only hovering on the same person for a few moments, before bouncing to the next. If she noted anything of relative interest, such as the tense way the Leventi girl sat beside the Kotas crown prince, then her gaze would linger for a beat longer, before moving along.
It was curious that the prized jewel of the Leventi house arrived with Zacharias, despite not the two not sitting together. Curious, but not particularly noteworthy. As it were, Thea’s own family were scattered along the table, with her father at the head of the second table, quite close to Vangelis and the Leventi girl. Thea noticed the look of relief on the Condos girl’s face when Selene turned to speak with Vangelis, but given the relationship between Leventi and Condos, Thea could only imagine there was some sort of forced amiability there. What did catch Thea’s attention for more than a mere moment, was the curiously unrecognisable woman that came in on the Kotas girl’s arm. Athenasia looked unsurprisingly the picturesque image of a princess, which was all very expected. She seemed to be forming into the very image of her mother, which was all quite mundane. The other woman however was dressed in a bold red. Thea’s critical gaze followed the woman, unable to hear any words that passed her lips, but it was no matter. Thea would learn who she was one way or another.
Scanning the large room once more,Thea noted the arrival of the younger Nikolaos girl. If ever there was someone who did not look comfortable in a room full of royalty and nobles alike, it was young Rene. Her eyes were wide and Thea could see the colour draining from her doll-like cheeks from her place at the table. She would get eaten alive.
Moving along, Thea didn’t notice much else of interest. Some soldier was talking quite keenly to the abrasive Marikas girl. Thea had not much to do with her outside of formalities, but Daniil’s pubescent-like rebellious tantrums did not pique Thea’s interests. She mildly entertained the idea of appealing to the girl in hopes to twist her around right beneath Panos’ nose, but the girl seemed to disappoint him easily enough all on her own. To see an admittedly handsome young man investing such keen interest in her was surprising. Either he was incredibly desperate or, clutching at what he hoped was an easy step into the world of nobility.
Curling her fingers around her goblet of wine, Thea brought the chalice to her lips as Nethis occupied the seat beside her. Thea turned her gaze to her sister, awarding Nethis her full attention as she leaned back in her chair.
’I see we are teaching lessons today. I caught the end of yours.’
Thea took a purposeful sip from her goblet, her gaze never leaving her sister. It did not surprise her that Nethis had noticed Thea’s work. Nethis could always be trusted to be aware of the goings on around her. It was why their proud house had stood so strong still even in their father’s absence, for it may not have been directly spoken, but it was certainly understood that Dysius would be incapable on his own.
’You do it so quietly, I fear I’ll get the credit for your work.’
Now that was amusing. It seemed the fools outside were more dense than she’d thought, and Thea had not held any regard for their intellect. It seemed Nethis had been unfairly blamed for Thea’s actions, much to the younger sister’s amusement. She had not planned for Nethis to take the blame, but it bothered Thea not that the credit was not rightly placed on herself. She’d already been rewarded with a mild piece of amusement for her efforts, and the night had barely begun.
’What pricked so well it was worth it?’
That was cute. Having grown up together, both girls knew each other’s strategies quite well. Nonetheless, Thea set her goblet down on the table once more, flicking her knowing gaze back at her sister. If Thea had less control over her reactions, she may have taken the bait and immediately sprung to defend her case, whether in humour or otherwise. If she intended to be seen as witty, she may have given a clever retort, or a gracious laugh if she opted to be polite. Thea cared not to feign any sort of expression at all, besides the slightest of smirks for Nethis’ benefit. For herself, she had not cared enough to act so to speak; she was not so easily offended as Nethis knew. However, Thea understood the drunks’ desire to build themselves up by targeting those above them. They sought to forget about their pitiful lives for even just a brief moment, by inflicting some sort of shame or embarrassment on their targets. Thea may have found their little song amusing if not for their awful singing, but the opportunity to rip the fragile confidence they’d built for themselves was too delicious to pass up.
No doubt they would have expected someone to ask a guard to usher them away, which would have spurred them to carry on even further. They likely hoped for the gallant men attending to speak up in defence of the noble women, or even better, have someone snap at them in a show of unbridled embarrassment or irritation. When met with a person or group who seemed to have an unstable sense of their own security, Thea thrived to find whatever it was that did not expect, to break it all down. It was satisfying in a way she did not bother to explain. She did not need the instant gratification that came with the more forward approaches with tending to a nuisance. Thea was content knowing she’d succeeded. She had thought at least one of the fools outside would have figured her hand in the matter, but either way she’d enjoyed the morsel of amusement.
Just as Thea went to comment, her gaze flickered momentarily towards Ophelia of Condos, who seemed inclined to enter the conversation, ’They might have called her a witch. Though a ghost might be more fitting, don’t you think? It is such a shame that your sister is so terribly shy, especially since you, dear Nethis, are so very...skilled...in the art of conversation.’
Well, Thea had never formally met Ophelia, the Condos Rose, but she knew of her and her family’s little rivalry with the Leventi. How easily wound up they seemed to get over petty little details. Ophelia was not much younger than Thea herself, yet her attire—as sickeningly sweet as her tone—suggested a desire to attract a suitor. Even Evras, the youngest of the Thanasi ’witches’ had landed a husband, and a Kotas boy at that. Yet despite Ophelia’s efforts, she was without a man on her arm. Perhaps that made for the true stiffness Ophelia seemed to have towards the Leventi girl earlier. Despite Thea’s own distaste for the Kotas, even she could recognise that in the eyes of the lesser houses, landing Vangelis—the heir apparent of Colchis—was an advantageous match, should the unfortunate wench be able to tolerate his insufferable nature. He was attractive though, so Thea figured perhaps that and the promise of a crown would be enough to make any prospecting women eager to be seen by him.
Why though, Ophelia felt the need to inject herself into a conversation between sisters, especially when she was quite literally surrounded by Thanasi, Thea did not know. It seemed both Nethis and the Conos girl were intent on trying to get a rise out of her. At least where Nethis was concerned, it wouldn’t have surprised her that Thea would have denied her that very reaction. Ophelia though, Thea wondered how she assumed Thea would ‘react’. She clearly had her mind made up about both she and Nethis, and it seemed Nethis was the catalyst for that. How appropriate that information be made clear given it was Nethis who was unrightly blamed for Thea’s actions only moments ago.
With a sly smirk and the piercing gaze like that of a snake, Thea leaned her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together to rest her chin in the junction of her fingers. “Terribly shy,” Thea drawled in a mocking tone, her smirk purposeful and challenging. If the little Condos rose wanted to be Thea’s play thing, then that would at least pass the time until something of interest happened.
“Ambition, then. Is that your aim? Land, titles? All earned at the point of a sword? Conquest and blood, legend and glory. Assume not you know what vexes me of your sex, for you know nothing of me or the men in my life.”
“No, my aim is to make a place for myself, to carve out my own portion of this world. My father was a brave and honorable man, and he spent his life working for the nobles and the royals, what did he get to show for it? An arrow through the throat. I’m going to take what I deserve and not play to the tunes of their lyres. That is my aim. So perhaps you shouldn’t speak as if you know me any better than I know you.” His response came in a voice that was colder than ice, but his playful smirk remained. “I may not know what they have done to vex you, but I can see that they have harmed you greatly. Why don’t you tell me about these men in your life? Tell me what you truly think of them.”
“I desire the company of no man. Desire and lust are the abyss into which is drained the ambitions and righteousness of women and men. It is a trap into which most would direct themselves full-bore, and it is not one into which I intend to fall. I do not intend to marry, or bear children into this world. I intend to be free. Make of that what you will, call it lies or truth, it matters to me naught.”
Alexandros laughed once again, this girl really was something interesting. Her words said she had no desires, but the way her eyes flicked to him or some of the women gave it all away. “Perhaps you have yet to meet the right partner that can give you all that you desire, perhaps,” his voice dropped to most silent of whispers as he spoke. “You need someone of each gender to fulfill those cravings, it is not uncommon. Pick a serving girl, and we’ll ravish her together.” His smirk only broaden as he spoke in the continued whisper. This was certain to get a strong response from the girl, one he hoped would give more away than she intended.
“To forget the sins of the father is to forget the lessons they have taught. I am yet unconvinced you only desire this conversation you are so insistent upon to partake of what you believe are my womanly charms, but so be it. If we are to be forced together in this place, let it be with some degree of amicability. What is it you wish of me, Alexandros the Fool?”
“Some lessons need to be forgotten, but I only wish to talk with the person beneath this vitriolic shell you have created. I care not for what your father wanted you to be, or how that has influenced you. I want to see the true Daniil, the one you hide away from the world to protect.” He laughed again as she mentioned his interest in her womanly charms. He was interested because she was an attractive woman who had rebuffed his advances so far, but he was beginning to believe that she did not possess any charm. “Your womanly charms? I’m afraid you have no charm to speak of in conversation, so unless you are alluding to more improper things that you would wish me to do to you, then I am certain you are mistaken. I wish to not be called a fool, and I wish for an interesting conversation to distract from this boring party, what is it you want, Daniil the Spiteful?”
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“Ambition, then. Is that your aim? Land, titles? All earned at the point of a sword? Conquest and blood, legend and glory. Assume not you know what vexes me of your sex, for you know nothing of me or the men in my life.”
“No, my aim is to make a place for myself, to carve out my own portion of this world. My father was a brave and honorable man, and he spent his life working for the nobles and the royals, what did he get to show for it? An arrow through the throat. I’m going to take what I deserve and not play to the tunes of their lyres. That is my aim. So perhaps you shouldn’t speak as if you know me any better than I know you.” His response came in a voice that was colder than ice, but his playful smirk remained. “I may not know what they have done to vex you, but I can see that they have harmed you greatly. Why don’t you tell me about these men in your life? Tell me what you truly think of them.”
“I desire the company of no man. Desire and lust are the abyss into which is drained the ambitions and righteousness of women and men. It is a trap into which most would direct themselves full-bore, and it is not one into which I intend to fall. I do not intend to marry, or bear children into this world. I intend to be free. Make of that what you will, call it lies or truth, it matters to me naught.”
Alexandros laughed once again, this girl really was something interesting. Her words said she had no desires, but the way her eyes flicked to him or some of the women gave it all away. “Perhaps you have yet to meet the right partner that can give you all that you desire, perhaps,” his voice dropped to most silent of whispers as he spoke. “You need someone of each gender to fulfill those cravings, it is not uncommon. Pick a serving girl, and we’ll ravish her together.” His smirk only broaden as he spoke in the continued whisper. This was certain to get a strong response from the girl, one he hoped would give more away than she intended.
“To forget the sins of the father is to forget the lessons they have taught. I am yet unconvinced you only desire this conversation you are so insistent upon to partake of what you believe are my womanly charms, but so be it. If we are to be forced together in this place, let it be with some degree of amicability. What is it you wish of me, Alexandros the Fool?”
“Some lessons need to be forgotten, but I only wish to talk with the person beneath this vitriolic shell you have created. I care not for what your father wanted you to be, or how that has influenced you. I want to see the true Daniil, the one you hide away from the world to protect.” He laughed again as she mentioned his interest in her womanly charms. He was interested because she was an attractive woman who had rebuffed his advances so far, but he was beginning to believe that she did not possess any charm. “Your womanly charms? I’m afraid you have no charm to speak of in conversation, so unless you are alluding to more improper things that you would wish me to do to you, then I am certain you are mistaken. I wish to not be called a fool, and I wish for an interesting conversation to distract from this boring party, what is it you want, Daniil the Spiteful?”
“Ambition, then. Is that your aim? Land, titles? All earned at the point of a sword? Conquest and blood, legend and glory. Assume not you know what vexes me of your sex, for you know nothing of me or the men in my life.”
“No, my aim is to make a place for myself, to carve out my own portion of this world. My father was a brave and honorable man, and he spent his life working for the nobles and the royals, what did he get to show for it? An arrow through the throat. I’m going to take what I deserve and not play to the tunes of their lyres. That is my aim. So perhaps you shouldn’t speak as if you know me any better than I know you.” His response came in a voice that was colder than ice, but his playful smirk remained. “I may not know what they have done to vex you, but I can see that they have harmed you greatly. Why don’t you tell me about these men in your life? Tell me what you truly think of them.”
“I desire the company of no man. Desire and lust are the abyss into which is drained the ambitions and righteousness of women and men. It is a trap into which most would direct themselves full-bore, and it is not one into which I intend to fall. I do not intend to marry, or bear children into this world. I intend to be free. Make of that what you will, call it lies or truth, it matters to me naught.”
Alexandros laughed once again, this girl really was something interesting. Her words said she had no desires, but the way her eyes flicked to him or some of the women gave it all away. “Perhaps you have yet to meet the right partner that can give you all that you desire, perhaps,” his voice dropped to most silent of whispers as he spoke. “You need someone of each gender to fulfill those cravings, it is not uncommon. Pick a serving girl, and we’ll ravish her together.” His smirk only broaden as he spoke in the continued whisper. This was certain to get a strong response from the girl, one he hoped would give more away than she intended.
“To forget the sins of the father is to forget the lessons they have taught. I am yet unconvinced you only desire this conversation you are so insistent upon to partake of what you believe are my womanly charms, but so be it. If we are to be forced together in this place, let it be with some degree of amicability. What is it you wish of me, Alexandros the Fool?”
“Some lessons need to be forgotten, but I only wish to talk with the person beneath this vitriolic shell you have created. I care not for what your father wanted you to be, or how that has influenced you. I want to see the true Daniil, the one you hide away from the world to protect.” He laughed again as she mentioned his interest in her womanly charms. He was interested because she was an attractive woman who had rebuffed his advances so far, but he was beginning to believe that she did not possess any charm. “Your womanly charms? I’m afraid you have no charm to speak of in conversation, so unless you are alluding to more improper things that you would wish me to do to you, then I am certain you are mistaken. I wish to not be called a fool, and I wish for an interesting conversation to distract from this boring party, what is it you want, Daniil the Spiteful?”
There was much in the room that could have captured her attention. Why, for example, were so many dignitaries not in attendance? That was certainly a question to ponder, though the conversation did not lack. One moment there was an empty seat, the next it was empty no more. She might have paid more attention to the undercurrents of tension that ripped like unspoken threats of danger through the room, had her mind not firmly been fixed on avenging Nethis’s vile treatment. As such, she kept her eyes pinned on The Snake Charmer and The Silent Witness, narrowing them to disapproving slits.
While Nethis went on about lessons, Thea drank heartily from her goblet. As she did so, her eyes never left her sister’s, and Ophelia found herself wondering if this was some sort of unspoken communication. They were siblings, after all. Thea might not speak, but surely she had other ways of making a reply, especially to one of her own kin. The Condos Rose was not so stupid as to believe that the girl was unintelligent. Oh no, she spoke not because she could not, but because she would not. She spoke because there was power in silence, of that the Taengean was sure. The Thanasi lived for intimidation, but Thea’s little mind games would not intimidate her. Nethis had tried to intimidate her, but the eldest viper had only raised Ophelia’s ire, setting her on a path of vengeance. Every rose had its thorns, after all, and the snakes would soon feel the bite of hers. The girl’s expression was utterly immovable when the elder stated that she feared receiving the credit, and only a slight smirk played across her lips when her sister enquired what had pricked so well that ‘it’ was worth it. Ophelia’s interest, piqued though it already was, was heightened now. What was it that Nethis spoke of? What had Thea done? Who had this lesson fallen upon, and who had blamed Nethis for it? The only conclusion she could form was that they had run afoul of those unseemly drunkards outside, since no scene had been made in this hall -- or, more accurately, the silly drunks had run afoul of them.
Thea seemed utterly uninterested in explaining to her sister what the offending party had done to earn her displeasure, and thus Ophelia was unable to confirm, or disprove, her theory. This only further fueled her irritation, and she found herself clasping her hands tightly together beneath the table with such force that they ached. Thanasi women truly are insufferable…she thought, turning her gaze on Nethis. Her lips quirked upwards then, but not into the smile that most knew and loved. The smile she gave the snake was cruel and cold. It felt foreign on her lips, yet not unnatural.
“They might have called her a witch. Though a ghost might be more fitting, don’t you think? It is such a shame that your sister is so terribly shy, especially since you, dear Nethis, are so very...skilled...in the art of conversation.”
Thea leaned forward then, resting her arms on the table and her chin in her hands. Thea’s gaze did not break from Ophelia’s, and Ophelia did not back down in return. She met the girl head on in a stare, her emerald orbs hardening to resemble green glaciers. She knew that the girl was trying to intimidate her, but she was having none of it. She would not be cowed by a woman who had not the wit to match her. Yes, Thea was intelligent -- of that there could be no doubt -- and she knew that it was a conscious choice on the cobress’ part to hold her tongue, but Ophelia also suspected that she did so in the knowledge that she had not the fineness of speech to match one such as herself in the art of linguistics. Should Thea attempt to verbally spar with another, Ophelia had no doubt that she would fail spectacularly. And so she kept to the shadows, perfecting her deadly glare, and allowed her sister to be the instrument of the Thanasi’s verbal venom while she cast a curse with her eyes.
‘Terribly shy,’ drawled the ghost. It was two words, but two words more than most had ever received. Ophelia felt a thrill of satisfaction rush over her as that fact registered, and her smile darkened further, her eyes holding Thea’s in a challenge. “Well, perhaps not,” Ophelia pronounces each syllable with purposeful perfection. Though her voice was quiet, not a single word was mumbled. Her speech was flawless, the envy of orators. “Perhaps you merely lack the intelligence to manage more than two words.”
Conjuring a pitying look, she sighed mournfully before permitting her eyes to stray from her least favourite sisters. Much had occurred while she had been engaged, it seemed. Athanasia of Colchis had arrived, ever the Princess as always, but the lady on her arm was entirely unfamiliar. She was dressed in the hue of a sunset, with no adornment save a circlet of braided leather. Ophelia found the lack of ornamentation odd, considering the scope of the affair, but perhaps such baubles were not the custom where she was from. She could tell immediately that the girl was foreign, for no Grecian Lady painted her face so thoroughly. Still, the look was striking and only served to enhance the unique beauty she possessed. She might have observed her all evening, were the room not filled with interesting subjects.
Selene was still speaking with Vangelis, though her every muscle was tensed. Ophelia could not help but wonder where Zacharias was, why he did not save his Lady from this clearly uncomfortable conversation. Rather uncharitably, she was glad that he had not. It was rare that she was granted the blessed opportunity of seeing one of the beautiful Leventi’s in a position of discomfort, though she could not imagine why it should be so. Prince Vangelis did not seem the type to make unwanted advances on a woman who was spoken for. In fact, he seemed utterly disinterested, even cold, towards the girl. Why then was she nervous? What had she to fear? His heart was of stone, her maidenhood was in no danger from him.
Her eyes skipped back to the enchanting foreigner, seated at the very same table as Vangelis and Selene. Athanasia, a picture of the perfect hostess, was gesturing to a small wine vessel, her lips moving in what looked to be a question. Ophelia could only assume she was offering wine to her guest. A moment later she was proven right, for two chalices were poured, one handed to the foreigner. Ophelia wished she could rise from her own table and make her way over to the two so that she might make the acquaintance of the ethereal beauty, but curiosity held her in place. What if Thea spoke again? What if Nethis chimed in? And then there was the fact that Mihail and Eirini had yet to arrive. What moods would they be in tonight, she wondered. Would Mihail be as stormy as his siblings, or easily won with talk of hunting and fashion? Would Eirini be imperious and insufferable, or a decent conversationalist?
Athanasia then turned to Selene, piquing Ophelia’s interest. She could not hear what was said, but the Colchan Princess’s eyes were alight with mirth. As she fixed him with a darling smile, their second sibling, Yiannis, joined the table. I wonder what Selene is making of all of this, and Athanasia’s new friend, Ophelia mused. Her eyes skipped once more to the foreigner once more. From this distance, and in this lighting, her features were blurred, but she seemed to have exquisite taste in fashion. The exomie style of her chitton became her perfectly, and its clasp was simply exquisite.
Athanasia was gesturing to each person in at her table in turn now; introducing them, she supposed, to Lady Selene. She dearly wished more than anything that she could read lips at that moment, so that might learn the name of the Princess’s mysterious friend. It was no matter, though. She would learn it by the evening’s end, and hopefully make an acquaintance of the woman if she so desired it. Perhaps they could --
WHAT?!
Was that Alexandros?! Yes, it was unmistakably him. What was he doing here? No, that was not the question she had meant to ask. How could he have come here without thinking to greet her? Had he not noticed her? Obviously not. His attention was taken up elsewhere, though with whom she could not say. The girl who held him in thrall was entirely unknown to her, yet there he sat, eagerly lapping up her every word. Again she could not hear what was said, but now she really did wish in earnest that lipreading was one of her talents, for she would have dearly loved to hear their discourse. He was smiling at her in that beguiling manner that had so unnerved Thisbe when first he had approached herself and Rene, so she could only imagine that his tone was either light and jovial or low and intimate. Were they speaking of the arts and intellectual subjects, or plotting a tryst like that which he had shared with Kaia? The girl was hiding her flushed face in her cup, while Alexandros continued to speak. What was all that about? Had he offended her? Embarrassed her? Was she simply shy? Had he lived up to his name perhaps, stolen her breath? A playful smirk danced across his lips, and a stab of jealousy unexpectedly pierced her heart. She had no romantic feelings for the Captain, but she longed to have him at her side -- a friendly face, rather than this nest of vipers. She longed to laugh with him, to jest with him, to speak with him on matters of both weight and frivolity. He, however, had chosen a different companion for the night. He seemed not even to have seen her, despite the great effort she had put into her appearance. This would be her last night in Colchis, for her father was now determined that she travel on the morrow to Athenia, and she would be unable to tell him so, unless he deigned to gaze in her direction.
Just as she was about to consider calling out to him -- regardless of what the Thanasi sisters might think -- her eyes alit on a far more welcome site. A radiant figure in a gown as pale as the fresh-fallen snow, gathered at the left shoulder in the exomie style, which Athanasia’s new friend was also wearing. However, this girl lent a purity to the style that contrasted with the boldness of the foreign noble, though this was unsurprising, for the young doeling was the very personification of the word. Rather than a doe, she seemed to have chosen to appear as a bird, another symbol of innocence. Golden feathers draped her arm, and armbands of an elaborate nature, carved into the likeness of the phoenix, cling to her slender biceps. This vision of vibrant virtue was, of course, none other than Rene of Nikolaos, Ophelia’s dearest friend.
Ophelia watched as the girl paused at the threshold, her pale blue eyes roving from guest to guest. The Condos Rose offered her a small smile of encouragement, hoping it would bring her courage. She knew that social events were a struggle for Rene, but had invited her anyway in hopes that Rene might use this opportunity to advance her artistic career. After all, there were many royals and nobles here that might be easily persuaded into a commission, especially since her name was now spreading far and wide. One did not earn a commission from Master Panos of Marikas without others hearing of the fact, of that the Taengean was more than almost certain.
Rene was still making no move to enter the room. Ophelia resisted the urge to bite down on her lower lip, knowing one of the cobresses seated beside her would easily catch the gesture. Still, she could not hide the concern in her gaze as it locked with Rene’s. She knew that Rene was likely in a panic, her eyes darting from one unknown face to the next. She had seldom attended court in Athenia, and despite knowing the names of all the foreign nobles, could never hope to match faces to those names if she had never encountered them before. Ophelia knew, however, that only the most unreasonable of individuals would expect her to. Besides, she would be there to make introductions for Rene; she would be at the artisan’s side to safely carve her path.
Refusing to watch her friend hover on the precipice of indecision for a single moment longer, Ophelia raised a hand and beckoned to her, indicating that she should enter the room and take a seat.
Ophelia might have cheered at the bravery her friend displayed at taking that single step, for that step was like a hundred steps to Rene, this she knew. The girl’s complexion was ashern now, but still she pressed on. She would have cheered, were it not for the surrounding guests, their lavish location, and the fact that the Ghost and the Witch still lurked nearby. Ignoring them for now, she kept her eyes trained proudly on Rene, beaming broadly at the beautiful blonde. Rene must have seen her smile, for a radiant smile soon graced her own lips, and Ophelia found herself releasing a breath she had not even realized she had been holding. Her entire body relaxed, and it was then and only then that she noted how stiff her muscles had become. Her whole body had tensed while Rene had lingered in the threshold. For a moment, she had feared that her friend might allow her crippling shyness to overwhelm her, and a great opportunity might be lost to her forever. She was gladder than words could possibly express that this was not the case. If the Gods were good, Rene would come away with a commission, and she with the possibility of a courtship.
Ophelia had expected to seek her out immediately, but much to her delight and pride she saw the young girl make for their hosts quite alone. Her heart swelled with an almost sisterly affection as she noted how far her doeling had progressed, to take such a step on her own. She would have to make a point of praising Rene quite fervently for this when they were alone, so that the girl would know she had done right.
Deciding to give Rene a moment of privacy -- for it was no small thing she was about to do, and she would doubtlessly not want to draw the attention of others while doing it -- she turned her attention back to Alexandros, keen to see how his encounter with the mysterious maiden was progressing. The girl’s cheeks were still flushed, yet her lips were pursed in a rather unpleasant expression. The contradictory nature of this only heightened her intrigue. Who was this girl? Was she a willing recipient of his charms, or did she seek to rid herself of him? Ophelia watched as the female enigma hid her face once more, drinking deeply from her goblet. It did not take her long to drain it, and when she did, she signalled for an immediate refill. Ophelia cast her eyes down to her own goblet, almost untouched. The vermilion liquid within bore a striking resemblance to blood, and suddenly she had no taste for it. Still, everyone else was drinking -- perhaps a little too much -- and she was not so foolish as to ask for water. Water was a rare commodity, and although she knew they could provide it, she would not be the only guest to make such an audacious request. Imagine hearing that the girl whose family made wine for a living had asked for water, having not the stomach to glance into a goblet of red. Still, there was something haunting about that shade, something that bode ill. Perhaps it was because that was the very shade that had spotted her handkerchief this morning after catching a delicate cough. She had never coughed up blood before and it had frightened her -- she prayed she never would again. Yet somehow she doubted that to be the case, for even now she could feel a dreadful tickle working in the back of her throat. She quickly whipped out a silken handkerchief from the beaded bag she had filled with her essentials, bringing it to her wax-stained lips. A tiny cough escaped her, the smallest of shudders wracking her feminine form. For a moment she held the handkerchief tightly in her hand, balling her fist around it. She dared not look, but deep down she already knew what she would find. She had felt the substance fly from her lips, unwanted, unbidden, but unpreventable. Angling her body away from the Thanasi, she carefully unwrapped the handkerchief and peered down at it.
Three spots of scarlet stained the once immaculate ivory silk. Ophelia shivered, threw the handkerchief into her handbag and grabbed the goblet of wine, draining it to the dregs to soothe the burning in her throat.
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There was much in the room that could have captured her attention. Why, for example, were so many dignitaries not in attendance? That was certainly a question to ponder, though the conversation did not lack. One moment there was an empty seat, the next it was empty no more. She might have paid more attention to the undercurrents of tension that ripped like unspoken threats of danger through the room, had her mind not firmly been fixed on avenging Nethis’s vile treatment. As such, she kept her eyes pinned on The Snake Charmer and The Silent Witness, narrowing them to disapproving slits.
While Nethis went on about lessons, Thea drank heartily from her goblet. As she did so, her eyes never left her sister’s, and Ophelia found herself wondering if this was some sort of unspoken communication. They were siblings, after all. Thea might not speak, but surely she had other ways of making a reply, especially to one of her own kin. The Condos Rose was not so stupid as to believe that the girl was unintelligent. Oh no, she spoke not because she could not, but because she would not. She spoke because there was power in silence, of that the Taengean was sure. The Thanasi lived for intimidation, but Thea’s little mind games would not intimidate her. Nethis had tried to intimidate her, but the eldest viper had only raised Ophelia’s ire, setting her on a path of vengeance. Every rose had its thorns, after all, and the snakes would soon feel the bite of hers. The girl’s expression was utterly immovable when the elder stated that she feared receiving the credit, and only a slight smirk played across her lips when her sister enquired what had pricked so well that ‘it’ was worth it. Ophelia’s interest, piqued though it already was, was heightened now. What was it that Nethis spoke of? What had Thea done? Who had this lesson fallen upon, and who had blamed Nethis for it? The only conclusion she could form was that they had run afoul of those unseemly drunkards outside, since no scene had been made in this hall -- or, more accurately, the silly drunks had run afoul of them.
Thea seemed utterly uninterested in explaining to her sister what the offending party had done to earn her displeasure, and thus Ophelia was unable to confirm, or disprove, her theory. This only further fueled her irritation, and she found herself clasping her hands tightly together beneath the table with such force that they ached. Thanasi women truly are insufferable…she thought, turning her gaze on Nethis. Her lips quirked upwards then, but not into the smile that most knew and loved. The smile she gave the snake was cruel and cold. It felt foreign on her lips, yet not unnatural.
“They might have called her a witch. Though a ghost might be more fitting, don’t you think? It is such a shame that your sister is so terribly shy, especially since you, dear Nethis, are so very...skilled...in the art of conversation.”
Thea leaned forward then, resting her arms on the table and her chin in her hands. Thea’s gaze did not break from Ophelia’s, and Ophelia did not back down in return. She met the girl head on in a stare, her emerald orbs hardening to resemble green glaciers. She knew that the girl was trying to intimidate her, but she was having none of it. She would not be cowed by a woman who had not the wit to match her. Yes, Thea was intelligent -- of that there could be no doubt -- and she knew that it was a conscious choice on the cobress’ part to hold her tongue, but Ophelia also suspected that she did so in the knowledge that she had not the fineness of speech to match one such as herself in the art of linguistics. Should Thea attempt to verbally spar with another, Ophelia had no doubt that she would fail spectacularly. And so she kept to the shadows, perfecting her deadly glare, and allowed her sister to be the instrument of the Thanasi’s verbal venom while she cast a curse with her eyes.
‘Terribly shy,’ drawled the ghost. It was two words, but two words more than most had ever received. Ophelia felt a thrill of satisfaction rush over her as that fact registered, and her smile darkened further, her eyes holding Thea’s in a challenge. “Well, perhaps not,” Ophelia pronounces each syllable with purposeful perfection. Though her voice was quiet, not a single word was mumbled. Her speech was flawless, the envy of orators. “Perhaps you merely lack the intelligence to manage more than two words.”
Conjuring a pitying look, she sighed mournfully before permitting her eyes to stray from her least favourite sisters. Much had occurred while she had been engaged, it seemed. Athanasia of Colchis had arrived, ever the Princess as always, but the lady on her arm was entirely unfamiliar. She was dressed in the hue of a sunset, with no adornment save a circlet of braided leather. Ophelia found the lack of ornamentation odd, considering the scope of the affair, but perhaps such baubles were not the custom where she was from. She could tell immediately that the girl was foreign, for no Grecian Lady painted her face so thoroughly. Still, the look was striking and only served to enhance the unique beauty she possessed. She might have observed her all evening, were the room not filled with interesting subjects.
Selene was still speaking with Vangelis, though her every muscle was tensed. Ophelia could not help but wonder where Zacharias was, why he did not save his Lady from this clearly uncomfortable conversation. Rather uncharitably, she was glad that he had not. It was rare that she was granted the blessed opportunity of seeing one of the beautiful Leventi’s in a position of discomfort, though she could not imagine why it should be so. Prince Vangelis did not seem the type to make unwanted advances on a woman who was spoken for. In fact, he seemed utterly disinterested, even cold, towards the girl. Why then was she nervous? What had she to fear? His heart was of stone, her maidenhood was in no danger from him.
Her eyes skipped back to the enchanting foreigner, seated at the very same table as Vangelis and Selene. Athanasia, a picture of the perfect hostess, was gesturing to a small wine vessel, her lips moving in what looked to be a question. Ophelia could only assume she was offering wine to her guest. A moment later she was proven right, for two chalices were poured, one handed to the foreigner. Ophelia wished she could rise from her own table and make her way over to the two so that she might make the acquaintance of the ethereal beauty, but curiosity held her in place. What if Thea spoke again? What if Nethis chimed in? And then there was the fact that Mihail and Eirini had yet to arrive. What moods would they be in tonight, she wondered. Would Mihail be as stormy as his siblings, or easily won with talk of hunting and fashion? Would Eirini be imperious and insufferable, or a decent conversationalist?
Athanasia then turned to Selene, piquing Ophelia’s interest. She could not hear what was said, but the Colchan Princess’s eyes were alight with mirth. As she fixed him with a darling smile, their second sibling, Yiannis, joined the table. I wonder what Selene is making of all of this, and Athanasia’s new friend, Ophelia mused. Her eyes skipped once more to the foreigner once more. From this distance, and in this lighting, her features were blurred, but she seemed to have exquisite taste in fashion. The exomie style of her chitton became her perfectly, and its clasp was simply exquisite.
Athanasia was gesturing to each person in at her table in turn now; introducing them, she supposed, to Lady Selene. She dearly wished more than anything that she could read lips at that moment, so that might learn the name of the Princess’s mysterious friend. It was no matter, though. She would learn it by the evening’s end, and hopefully make an acquaintance of the woman if she so desired it. Perhaps they could --
WHAT?!
Was that Alexandros?! Yes, it was unmistakably him. What was he doing here? No, that was not the question she had meant to ask. How could he have come here without thinking to greet her? Had he not noticed her? Obviously not. His attention was taken up elsewhere, though with whom she could not say. The girl who held him in thrall was entirely unknown to her, yet there he sat, eagerly lapping up her every word. Again she could not hear what was said, but now she really did wish in earnest that lipreading was one of her talents, for she would have dearly loved to hear their discourse. He was smiling at her in that beguiling manner that had so unnerved Thisbe when first he had approached herself and Rene, so she could only imagine that his tone was either light and jovial or low and intimate. Were they speaking of the arts and intellectual subjects, or plotting a tryst like that which he had shared with Kaia? The girl was hiding her flushed face in her cup, while Alexandros continued to speak. What was all that about? Had he offended her? Embarrassed her? Was she simply shy? Had he lived up to his name perhaps, stolen her breath? A playful smirk danced across his lips, and a stab of jealousy unexpectedly pierced her heart. She had no romantic feelings for the Captain, but she longed to have him at her side -- a friendly face, rather than this nest of vipers. She longed to laugh with him, to jest with him, to speak with him on matters of both weight and frivolity. He, however, had chosen a different companion for the night. He seemed not even to have seen her, despite the great effort she had put into her appearance. This would be her last night in Colchis, for her father was now determined that she travel on the morrow to Athenia, and she would be unable to tell him so, unless he deigned to gaze in her direction.
Just as she was about to consider calling out to him -- regardless of what the Thanasi sisters might think -- her eyes alit on a far more welcome site. A radiant figure in a gown as pale as the fresh-fallen snow, gathered at the left shoulder in the exomie style, which Athanasia’s new friend was also wearing. However, this girl lent a purity to the style that contrasted with the boldness of the foreign noble, though this was unsurprising, for the young doeling was the very personification of the word. Rather than a doe, she seemed to have chosen to appear as a bird, another symbol of innocence. Golden feathers draped her arm, and armbands of an elaborate nature, carved into the likeness of the phoenix, cling to her slender biceps. This vision of vibrant virtue was, of course, none other than Rene of Nikolaos, Ophelia’s dearest friend.
Ophelia watched as the girl paused at the threshold, her pale blue eyes roving from guest to guest. The Condos Rose offered her a small smile of encouragement, hoping it would bring her courage. She knew that social events were a struggle for Rene, but had invited her anyway in hopes that Rene might use this opportunity to advance her artistic career. After all, there were many royals and nobles here that might be easily persuaded into a commission, especially since her name was now spreading far and wide. One did not earn a commission from Master Panos of Marikas without others hearing of the fact, of that the Taengean was more than almost certain.
Rene was still making no move to enter the room. Ophelia resisted the urge to bite down on her lower lip, knowing one of the cobresses seated beside her would easily catch the gesture. Still, she could not hide the concern in her gaze as it locked with Rene’s. She knew that Rene was likely in a panic, her eyes darting from one unknown face to the next. She had seldom attended court in Athenia, and despite knowing the names of all the foreign nobles, could never hope to match faces to those names if she had never encountered them before. Ophelia knew, however, that only the most unreasonable of individuals would expect her to. Besides, she would be there to make introductions for Rene; she would be at the artisan’s side to safely carve her path.
Refusing to watch her friend hover on the precipice of indecision for a single moment longer, Ophelia raised a hand and beckoned to her, indicating that she should enter the room and take a seat.
Ophelia might have cheered at the bravery her friend displayed at taking that single step, for that step was like a hundred steps to Rene, this she knew. The girl’s complexion was ashern now, but still she pressed on. She would have cheered, were it not for the surrounding guests, their lavish location, and the fact that the Ghost and the Witch still lurked nearby. Ignoring them for now, she kept her eyes trained proudly on Rene, beaming broadly at the beautiful blonde. Rene must have seen her smile, for a radiant smile soon graced her own lips, and Ophelia found herself releasing a breath she had not even realized she had been holding. Her entire body relaxed, and it was then and only then that she noted how stiff her muscles had become. Her whole body had tensed while Rene had lingered in the threshold. For a moment, she had feared that her friend might allow her crippling shyness to overwhelm her, and a great opportunity might be lost to her forever. She was gladder than words could possibly express that this was not the case. If the Gods were good, Rene would come away with a commission, and she with the possibility of a courtship.
Ophelia had expected to seek her out immediately, but much to her delight and pride she saw the young girl make for their hosts quite alone. Her heart swelled with an almost sisterly affection as she noted how far her doeling had progressed, to take such a step on her own. She would have to make a point of praising Rene quite fervently for this when they were alone, so that the girl would know she had done right.
Deciding to give Rene a moment of privacy -- for it was no small thing she was about to do, and she would doubtlessly not want to draw the attention of others while doing it -- she turned her attention back to Alexandros, keen to see how his encounter with the mysterious maiden was progressing. The girl’s cheeks were still flushed, yet her lips were pursed in a rather unpleasant expression. The contradictory nature of this only heightened her intrigue. Who was this girl? Was she a willing recipient of his charms, or did she seek to rid herself of him? Ophelia watched as the female enigma hid her face once more, drinking deeply from her goblet. It did not take her long to drain it, and when she did, she signalled for an immediate refill. Ophelia cast her eyes down to her own goblet, almost untouched. The vermilion liquid within bore a striking resemblance to blood, and suddenly she had no taste for it. Still, everyone else was drinking -- perhaps a little too much -- and she was not so foolish as to ask for water. Water was a rare commodity, and although she knew they could provide it, she would not be the only guest to make such an audacious request. Imagine hearing that the girl whose family made wine for a living had asked for water, having not the stomach to glance into a goblet of red. Still, there was something haunting about that shade, something that bode ill. Perhaps it was because that was the very shade that had spotted her handkerchief this morning after catching a delicate cough. She had never coughed up blood before and it had frightened her -- she prayed she never would again. Yet somehow she doubted that to be the case, for even now she could feel a dreadful tickle working in the back of her throat. She quickly whipped out a silken handkerchief from the beaded bag she had filled with her essentials, bringing it to her wax-stained lips. A tiny cough escaped her, the smallest of shudders wracking her feminine form. For a moment she held the handkerchief tightly in her hand, balling her fist around it. She dared not look, but deep down she already knew what she would find. She had felt the substance fly from her lips, unwanted, unbidden, but unpreventable. Angling her body away from the Thanasi, she carefully unwrapped the handkerchief and peered down at it.
Three spots of scarlet stained the once immaculate ivory silk. Ophelia shivered, threw the handkerchief into her handbag and grabbed the goblet of wine, draining it to the dregs to soothe the burning in her throat.
There was much in the room that could have captured her attention. Why, for example, were so many dignitaries not in attendance? That was certainly a question to ponder, though the conversation did not lack. One moment there was an empty seat, the next it was empty no more. She might have paid more attention to the undercurrents of tension that ripped like unspoken threats of danger through the room, had her mind not firmly been fixed on avenging Nethis’s vile treatment. As such, she kept her eyes pinned on The Snake Charmer and The Silent Witness, narrowing them to disapproving slits.
While Nethis went on about lessons, Thea drank heartily from her goblet. As she did so, her eyes never left her sister’s, and Ophelia found herself wondering if this was some sort of unspoken communication. They were siblings, after all. Thea might not speak, but surely she had other ways of making a reply, especially to one of her own kin. The Condos Rose was not so stupid as to believe that the girl was unintelligent. Oh no, she spoke not because she could not, but because she would not. She spoke because there was power in silence, of that the Taengean was sure. The Thanasi lived for intimidation, but Thea’s little mind games would not intimidate her. Nethis had tried to intimidate her, but the eldest viper had only raised Ophelia’s ire, setting her on a path of vengeance. Every rose had its thorns, after all, and the snakes would soon feel the bite of hers. The girl’s expression was utterly immovable when the elder stated that she feared receiving the credit, and only a slight smirk played across her lips when her sister enquired what had pricked so well that ‘it’ was worth it. Ophelia’s interest, piqued though it already was, was heightened now. What was it that Nethis spoke of? What had Thea done? Who had this lesson fallen upon, and who had blamed Nethis for it? The only conclusion she could form was that they had run afoul of those unseemly drunkards outside, since no scene had been made in this hall -- or, more accurately, the silly drunks had run afoul of them.
Thea seemed utterly uninterested in explaining to her sister what the offending party had done to earn her displeasure, and thus Ophelia was unable to confirm, or disprove, her theory. This only further fueled her irritation, and she found herself clasping her hands tightly together beneath the table with such force that they ached. Thanasi women truly are insufferable…she thought, turning her gaze on Nethis. Her lips quirked upwards then, but not into the smile that most knew and loved. The smile she gave the snake was cruel and cold. It felt foreign on her lips, yet not unnatural.
“They might have called her a witch. Though a ghost might be more fitting, don’t you think? It is such a shame that your sister is so terribly shy, especially since you, dear Nethis, are so very...skilled...in the art of conversation.”
Thea leaned forward then, resting her arms on the table and her chin in her hands. Thea’s gaze did not break from Ophelia’s, and Ophelia did not back down in return. She met the girl head on in a stare, her emerald orbs hardening to resemble green glaciers. She knew that the girl was trying to intimidate her, but she was having none of it. She would not be cowed by a woman who had not the wit to match her. Yes, Thea was intelligent -- of that there could be no doubt -- and she knew that it was a conscious choice on the cobress’ part to hold her tongue, but Ophelia also suspected that she did so in the knowledge that she had not the fineness of speech to match one such as herself in the art of linguistics. Should Thea attempt to verbally spar with another, Ophelia had no doubt that she would fail spectacularly. And so she kept to the shadows, perfecting her deadly glare, and allowed her sister to be the instrument of the Thanasi’s verbal venom while she cast a curse with her eyes.
‘Terribly shy,’ drawled the ghost. It was two words, but two words more than most had ever received. Ophelia felt a thrill of satisfaction rush over her as that fact registered, and her smile darkened further, her eyes holding Thea’s in a challenge. “Well, perhaps not,” Ophelia pronounces each syllable with purposeful perfection. Though her voice was quiet, not a single word was mumbled. Her speech was flawless, the envy of orators. “Perhaps you merely lack the intelligence to manage more than two words.”
Conjuring a pitying look, she sighed mournfully before permitting her eyes to stray from her least favourite sisters. Much had occurred while she had been engaged, it seemed. Athanasia of Colchis had arrived, ever the Princess as always, but the lady on her arm was entirely unfamiliar. She was dressed in the hue of a sunset, with no adornment save a circlet of braided leather. Ophelia found the lack of ornamentation odd, considering the scope of the affair, but perhaps such baubles were not the custom where she was from. She could tell immediately that the girl was foreign, for no Grecian Lady painted her face so thoroughly. Still, the look was striking and only served to enhance the unique beauty she possessed. She might have observed her all evening, were the room not filled with interesting subjects.
Selene was still speaking with Vangelis, though her every muscle was tensed. Ophelia could not help but wonder where Zacharias was, why he did not save his Lady from this clearly uncomfortable conversation. Rather uncharitably, she was glad that he had not. It was rare that she was granted the blessed opportunity of seeing one of the beautiful Leventi’s in a position of discomfort, though she could not imagine why it should be so. Prince Vangelis did not seem the type to make unwanted advances on a woman who was spoken for. In fact, he seemed utterly disinterested, even cold, towards the girl. Why then was she nervous? What had she to fear? His heart was of stone, her maidenhood was in no danger from him.
Her eyes skipped back to the enchanting foreigner, seated at the very same table as Vangelis and Selene. Athanasia, a picture of the perfect hostess, was gesturing to a small wine vessel, her lips moving in what looked to be a question. Ophelia could only assume she was offering wine to her guest. A moment later she was proven right, for two chalices were poured, one handed to the foreigner. Ophelia wished she could rise from her own table and make her way over to the two so that she might make the acquaintance of the ethereal beauty, but curiosity held her in place. What if Thea spoke again? What if Nethis chimed in? And then there was the fact that Mihail and Eirini had yet to arrive. What moods would they be in tonight, she wondered. Would Mihail be as stormy as his siblings, or easily won with talk of hunting and fashion? Would Eirini be imperious and insufferable, or a decent conversationalist?
Athanasia then turned to Selene, piquing Ophelia’s interest. She could not hear what was said, but the Colchan Princess’s eyes were alight with mirth. As she fixed him with a darling smile, their second sibling, Yiannis, joined the table. I wonder what Selene is making of all of this, and Athanasia’s new friend, Ophelia mused. Her eyes skipped once more to the foreigner once more. From this distance, and in this lighting, her features were blurred, but she seemed to have exquisite taste in fashion. The exomie style of her chitton became her perfectly, and its clasp was simply exquisite.
Athanasia was gesturing to each person in at her table in turn now; introducing them, she supposed, to Lady Selene. She dearly wished more than anything that she could read lips at that moment, so that might learn the name of the Princess’s mysterious friend. It was no matter, though. She would learn it by the evening’s end, and hopefully make an acquaintance of the woman if she so desired it. Perhaps they could --
WHAT?!
Was that Alexandros?! Yes, it was unmistakably him. What was he doing here? No, that was not the question she had meant to ask. How could he have come here without thinking to greet her? Had he not noticed her? Obviously not. His attention was taken up elsewhere, though with whom she could not say. The girl who held him in thrall was entirely unknown to her, yet there he sat, eagerly lapping up her every word. Again she could not hear what was said, but now she really did wish in earnest that lipreading was one of her talents, for she would have dearly loved to hear their discourse. He was smiling at her in that beguiling manner that had so unnerved Thisbe when first he had approached herself and Rene, so she could only imagine that his tone was either light and jovial or low and intimate. Were they speaking of the arts and intellectual subjects, or plotting a tryst like that which he had shared with Kaia? The girl was hiding her flushed face in her cup, while Alexandros continued to speak. What was all that about? Had he offended her? Embarrassed her? Was she simply shy? Had he lived up to his name perhaps, stolen her breath? A playful smirk danced across his lips, and a stab of jealousy unexpectedly pierced her heart. She had no romantic feelings for the Captain, but she longed to have him at her side -- a friendly face, rather than this nest of vipers. She longed to laugh with him, to jest with him, to speak with him on matters of both weight and frivolity. He, however, had chosen a different companion for the night. He seemed not even to have seen her, despite the great effort she had put into her appearance. This would be her last night in Colchis, for her father was now determined that she travel on the morrow to Athenia, and she would be unable to tell him so, unless he deigned to gaze in her direction.
Just as she was about to consider calling out to him -- regardless of what the Thanasi sisters might think -- her eyes alit on a far more welcome site. A radiant figure in a gown as pale as the fresh-fallen snow, gathered at the left shoulder in the exomie style, which Athanasia’s new friend was also wearing. However, this girl lent a purity to the style that contrasted with the boldness of the foreign noble, though this was unsurprising, for the young doeling was the very personification of the word. Rather than a doe, she seemed to have chosen to appear as a bird, another symbol of innocence. Golden feathers draped her arm, and armbands of an elaborate nature, carved into the likeness of the phoenix, cling to her slender biceps. This vision of vibrant virtue was, of course, none other than Rene of Nikolaos, Ophelia’s dearest friend.
Ophelia watched as the girl paused at the threshold, her pale blue eyes roving from guest to guest. The Condos Rose offered her a small smile of encouragement, hoping it would bring her courage. She knew that social events were a struggle for Rene, but had invited her anyway in hopes that Rene might use this opportunity to advance her artistic career. After all, there were many royals and nobles here that might be easily persuaded into a commission, especially since her name was now spreading far and wide. One did not earn a commission from Master Panos of Marikas without others hearing of the fact, of that the Taengean was more than almost certain.
Rene was still making no move to enter the room. Ophelia resisted the urge to bite down on her lower lip, knowing one of the cobresses seated beside her would easily catch the gesture. Still, she could not hide the concern in her gaze as it locked with Rene’s. She knew that Rene was likely in a panic, her eyes darting from one unknown face to the next. She had seldom attended court in Athenia, and despite knowing the names of all the foreign nobles, could never hope to match faces to those names if she had never encountered them before. Ophelia knew, however, that only the most unreasonable of individuals would expect her to. Besides, she would be there to make introductions for Rene; she would be at the artisan’s side to safely carve her path.
Refusing to watch her friend hover on the precipice of indecision for a single moment longer, Ophelia raised a hand and beckoned to her, indicating that she should enter the room and take a seat.
Ophelia might have cheered at the bravery her friend displayed at taking that single step, for that step was like a hundred steps to Rene, this she knew. The girl’s complexion was ashern now, but still she pressed on. She would have cheered, were it not for the surrounding guests, their lavish location, and the fact that the Ghost and the Witch still lurked nearby. Ignoring them for now, she kept her eyes trained proudly on Rene, beaming broadly at the beautiful blonde. Rene must have seen her smile, for a radiant smile soon graced her own lips, and Ophelia found herself releasing a breath she had not even realized she had been holding. Her entire body relaxed, and it was then and only then that she noted how stiff her muscles had become. Her whole body had tensed while Rene had lingered in the threshold. For a moment, she had feared that her friend might allow her crippling shyness to overwhelm her, and a great opportunity might be lost to her forever. She was gladder than words could possibly express that this was not the case. If the Gods were good, Rene would come away with a commission, and she with the possibility of a courtship.
Ophelia had expected to seek her out immediately, but much to her delight and pride she saw the young girl make for their hosts quite alone. Her heart swelled with an almost sisterly affection as she noted how far her doeling had progressed, to take such a step on her own. She would have to make a point of praising Rene quite fervently for this when they were alone, so that the girl would know she had done right.
Deciding to give Rene a moment of privacy -- for it was no small thing she was about to do, and she would doubtlessly not want to draw the attention of others while doing it -- she turned her attention back to Alexandros, keen to see how his encounter with the mysterious maiden was progressing. The girl’s cheeks were still flushed, yet her lips were pursed in a rather unpleasant expression. The contradictory nature of this only heightened her intrigue. Who was this girl? Was she a willing recipient of his charms, or did she seek to rid herself of him? Ophelia watched as the female enigma hid her face once more, drinking deeply from her goblet. It did not take her long to drain it, and when she did, she signalled for an immediate refill. Ophelia cast her eyes down to her own goblet, almost untouched. The vermilion liquid within bore a striking resemblance to blood, and suddenly she had no taste for it. Still, everyone else was drinking -- perhaps a little too much -- and she was not so foolish as to ask for water. Water was a rare commodity, and although she knew they could provide it, she would not be the only guest to make such an audacious request. Imagine hearing that the girl whose family made wine for a living had asked for water, having not the stomach to glance into a goblet of red. Still, there was something haunting about that shade, something that bode ill. Perhaps it was because that was the very shade that had spotted her handkerchief this morning after catching a delicate cough. She had never coughed up blood before and it had frightened her -- she prayed she never would again. Yet somehow she doubted that to be the case, for even now she could feel a dreadful tickle working in the back of her throat. She quickly whipped out a silken handkerchief from the beaded bag she had filled with her essentials, bringing it to her wax-stained lips. A tiny cough escaped her, the smallest of shudders wracking her feminine form. For a moment she held the handkerchief tightly in her hand, balling her fist around it. She dared not look, but deep down she already knew what she would find. She had felt the substance fly from her lips, unwanted, unbidden, but unpreventable. Angling her body away from the Thanasi, she carefully unwrapped the handkerchief and peered down at it.
Three spots of scarlet stained the once immaculate ivory silk. Ophelia shivered, threw the handkerchief into her handbag and grabbed the goblet of wine, draining it to the dregs to soothe the burning in her throat.
Mihail had initially dismissed the invitation when it had arrived. He did not traditionally care for the dull festivities of others, and, were he to accept a request to attend an event, he tended to favour those that were certain to grow a little more...debauched. A formal dinner was not in his preference, and certainly not when he had never found himself to have much of an appetite, preferring to pick half-heartedly at the meals set before him and ignore the unavoidable commentary regarding the alleged ungratefulness of this particular trait, as though he had not made his disdain towards such matters excruciatingly clear on a dozen occasions. Thus, the slip of an invitation had been torn into disinterested pieces of parchment and left to be tidied by the ever-efficient Paris (this compliment had not, however, been verbally extended to the slave).
But the youngest Thanasi had found himself with little to do of late. Or rather, he was finding a certain dullness in his current routine, and while he was typically glad to waste away his days with all those enjoyable activities that his sisters deemed less than useful, the change the schedule would provide had become surprisingly welcome. Thus, his acceptance became a last-minute one on the very morning of, and his activities had been forced to shift to accommodate this new desired schedule of party preparation over the usual languid days spent in the comfort of his chambers-cum-opium den.
The previous night had been spent in a foreign bedroom, wrapped in the warm arms of an older man with half-greying hair who promised him the world and offered him more jewels than any noblewoman likely possessed (though his current collection was already questionably extensive). Basileios was quite wonderful and, dear, so wealthy that he almost lived up to his name. They had met while Mihail was otherwise interested in pursuing a relationship with his rather flirtatious daughter, and his attention had shifted instead to fall on the father, although he supposed that many of his interests fell mostly on the quality of the sex and the easy spending of drachmae. There were no true feelings or genuine affection for the man but, then again, there never were, and he made a comfortable companion with which to while away the hours when nothing else would do.
When he had awoken that morning, he had disappeared from the room early to practice his archery, then slipped back into the bed even before the other awoke, far closer to the middle of the day. When he did, Mihail was watching him with an easy smile resting on his lips. “Bas…” he whispered, trailing off in that coy manner that was designed to give him whatever he wanted and usually worked. Not that he was about to ask for much, but one always had to be prepared. “I have a party tonight. I can spend the day and get ready here, right? There are just so many people in my house right now; it is a nightmare.”
He said yes, but of course he did.
Mihail had given the man a soft peck on the cheek in thanks and sent some lingering servant to draw him a bath while he rifled through the pretty chitons and other fabrics they had purchased the previous day to select something appropriate. The bath itself — scented with some citrus oils because they did not possess his favoured floral fragrances —was perfectly boiling and uninterrupted by the sounds of others. That really had become the trouble with all these guests: the Thanasi home was certainly large, but there was only so much company one could take, and it felt busy even when it was not. This quiet bath was a more than welcome opportunity to relax, and he might have gladly wasted more hours than necessary in its comfort had he not been reasonably aware of some schedule.
Among the wide selection of purchased fabrics was a chiton in that glorious familial red that he could never resist, the material thin enough that multiple layers could be easily layered one on top of the other to create an attractive gradient of reds. It was lovely and paired perfectly with a thin, black himation that draped around him rather elegantly in a pretty imitation of the Thanasi crest that would surely serve him well at the dinner. One had to represent their house as best they could, after all, and Mihail liked to think that he did it better than any of his siblings, even Nethis (though he would never dare repeat such a sentiment before the woman, else he was certain he would get into more trouble than a cute little smile and fluttering of tear-filled eyelashes could fix).
The staff may well be trusted with the simple task of preparing a bath, but their abilities were unknown when it came to the clever details of cosmetics and hair, especially when their current master did not especially require such services. Thus, Mihail had chosen to take matters into his own, far safer hands. He had not allowed them to do much more than brush out those few knots that always inevitably appeared after as intense a night as he had had, then slowly slicked it back himself, almost strand by strand to ensure the desired volume. Only Paris knew how to do it properly so that his hair curled back with mildly more volume at the front and spiralled neatly around his ears, held gently in place with a delicate collection of serpentine pins that peeked out at appropriate intervals, as though teasing.
His eyes were rimmed in dark kohl, curved dramatically outwards and upwards and flecked with minuscule particles of gold to match the bangles (sorry, Nethis) that decorated his arms and the coins sewn into the hem of his himation. It was more understated than his usual, but some people didn’t require more than the smallest amount of effort to look good, and he was pleased with the design.
“I am borrowing a carriage,” he informed Basileios as he exited the room commandeered as a dressing room since his initial arrival in the man’s life several months prior, the words meant to serve as an instruction for the staff to prepare one. “You can wait for me, but if I am not back until late then assume I went home...mine or otherwise.” He dropped dramatically onto a kline to adjust the snaking straps of his sandals, falling languidly back onto the cushions once it was done, waiting for the word that his transportation was ready. “If you miss me too much, you can always buy me something cute to remember me better.” It was phrased as a suggestion, but it was an obvious request and elicited a small chuckle in response. Chuckles meant yes, but nothing ever really meant no.
By the time the carriage — it was not as nice as the Thanasi ones, but it was comfortable enough for the short journey — arrived at the Dikastirio, it was already awfully late. Not that Mihail minded in the slightest, for tardiness was always fashionable when in the hands of the proper individual. He stepped out, tossed a vague command at the driver that he should wait until he re-emerged, accompanied by a quick threat expressing the consequence of disobedience, and then made his way inside.
Whatever had happened before he arrived, he did not think he wanted to know. A group of noticeably low worth individuals were hovering irritably by the entrance, half-swaying on their feet. One man in the group looked thoroughly worse for wear, as though he had already downed every drink in Colchis, and was currently emptying his stomach onto the stone flooring. The woman was still singing, though her wailed rhymes were far from appealing, and their attempts at introducing those who passed questionable. When her eyes turned onto the youngest Thanasi, he raised a hand before she could part her lips in turn, thoroughly uninterested. “Speak, and I shall personally slice your tongue from your mouth. Sing, and I assure you that your fate shall be far worse.” She shrank back, appropriately afraid, and slipped back into the whispers she shared with her friends instead.
His tardiness was noticeable in the way the servants had already closed the doors and scrambled to reopen them, though he didn’t mind the additional flair it provided his entrance and, for a moment, Mihail stood still and silent with painted fingertips dancing on his hips as he glanced over the scene. Fashionably late, but still not so horrendously so that he would be considered genuinely late, which was the true embarrassment. A servant gestured towards his assigned place — disastrously chosen, he might add, given that he must have been seated between two of the primmest ladies in all Greece — though he paused in his approach to find two of his sisters in the midst of some discussion. He caught only ends, but it was well within Thanasi nature to remain observant, and he could piece conversation together.
“Thea!” he cried in a tone reminiscent of the ones his sisters used when chastising him for some deed or another. “We should not mock the less fortunate. Some of us do not have the privilege of fine tutors to teach us the etiquette of not inserting ourselves in the conversations of others.” His gaze flickered towards Ophelia, momentarily darkened in that familiarly protective way he had always had, then brightened to turn terrible sweet as he glanced towards Nethis, waving his arm before her so the bracelets along it clattered together. “Thank you so much for the pretty bangles, Net.”
With that, he would have turned to take a seat beside Ophelia as unfortunately directed, if she had not opted for an entire cavalcade of offence. He did not take any unkindness towards his sisters, not when they had raised him into all that he was. An eyebrow quirked upwards again at her comment, and he leaned in close so that his lips hovered mere inches from her ear. “If you dare speak ill of my sisters again, I can personally assure you that it shall be the last time,” he hissed, before turning back to his cute smile to slide into his seat on the girl’s other side, so that she was practically surrounded by his family. It was not particularly the best position in which to be if one was bent on insulting them. His tone returned to something more pleasantly conversational, although his words were not. “It is really is quite unfortunate that respect for your betters did not factor into any of your lessons, Lady Ophelia. Especially when you appear so well-versed in all other vital matters of court. Whatever would we do without yet another noble lady who can sing and simper and nothing much else?”
Mihail reached for his waiting wine goblet then, offering Ophelia a reasonably kind chance to respond as he took a long sip. Before she did, however, she had reached for a handkerchief, and in her obvious attempt to lean away from all three Thanasi at once — rather a feat when they were on either side of her — had instead revealed the few droplets of dark blood on the white fabric. Oh, no. He was categorically not sitting beside some girl who was on the verge of pouring her guts onto the table and, more importantly, onto him.
It was not that the Thanasi did not like blood: conversely, he usually found that he adored it and it filled him with a greater lust than most things. There was a difference, however, being the cause for its appearance and simply being a witness, and the latter was not appreciated. He did not care for filth or sickness or anything of the sort, and when he had accepted the invitation to the dinner, this was not what he had expected. He was not intending to sit beside the girl in this state, and he was not planning to leave the event ill enough that blood poured from his lips as well.
“I did not realise they were letting in any old street lepers,” he muttered, pointedly taking his goblet as he stood from his place and moved rather unsubtly down one to the currently unoccupied seat of Princess Emilia. It was not much distance, but it was better than sitting directly beside a woman bent on sending them all the Hades with one misplaced cough. Besides, he supposed he could muster some degree of conversation with his cousin.
Az
Mihail
Az
Mihail
Awards
First Impressions:Slim; Broken nose, piercing gaze, red-painted nails.
Address: Your His Lordship
Mihail had initially dismissed the invitation when it had arrived. He did not traditionally care for the dull festivities of others, and, were he to accept a request to attend an event, he tended to favour those that were certain to grow a little more...debauched. A formal dinner was not in his preference, and certainly not when he had never found himself to have much of an appetite, preferring to pick half-heartedly at the meals set before him and ignore the unavoidable commentary regarding the alleged ungratefulness of this particular trait, as though he had not made his disdain towards such matters excruciatingly clear on a dozen occasions. Thus, the slip of an invitation had been torn into disinterested pieces of parchment and left to be tidied by the ever-efficient Paris (this compliment had not, however, been verbally extended to the slave).
But the youngest Thanasi had found himself with little to do of late. Or rather, he was finding a certain dullness in his current routine, and while he was typically glad to waste away his days with all those enjoyable activities that his sisters deemed less than useful, the change the schedule would provide had become surprisingly welcome. Thus, his acceptance became a last-minute one on the very morning of, and his activities had been forced to shift to accommodate this new desired schedule of party preparation over the usual languid days spent in the comfort of his chambers-cum-opium den.
The previous night had been spent in a foreign bedroom, wrapped in the warm arms of an older man with half-greying hair who promised him the world and offered him more jewels than any noblewoman likely possessed (though his current collection was already questionably extensive). Basileios was quite wonderful and, dear, so wealthy that he almost lived up to his name. They had met while Mihail was otherwise interested in pursuing a relationship with his rather flirtatious daughter, and his attention had shifted instead to fall on the father, although he supposed that many of his interests fell mostly on the quality of the sex and the easy spending of drachmae. There were no true feelings or genuine affection for the man but, then again, there never were, and he made a comfortable companion with which to while away the hours when nothing else would do.
When he had awoken that morning, he had disappeared from the room early to practice his archery, then slipped back into the bed even before the other awoke, far closer to the middle of the day. When he did, Mihail was watching him with an easy smile resting on his lips. “Bas…” he whispered, trailing off in that coy manner that was designed to give him whatever he wanted and usually worked. Not that he was about to ask for much, but one always had to be prepared. “I have a party tonight. I can spend the day and get ready here, right? There are just so many people in my house right now; it is a nightmare.”
He said yes, but of course he did.
Mihail had given the man a soft peck on the cheek in thanks and sent some lingering servant to draw him a bath while he rifled through the pretty chitons and other fabrics they had purchased the previous day to select something appropriate. The bath itself — scented with some citrus oils because they did not possess his favoured floral fragrances —was perfectly boiling and uninterrupted by the sounds of others. That really had become the trouble with all these guests: the Thanasi home was certainly large, but there was only so much company one could take, and it felt busy even when it was not. This quiet bath was a more than welcome opportunity to relax, and he might have gladly wasted more hours than necessary in its comfort had he not been reasonably aware of some schedule.
Among the wide selection of purchased fabrics was a chiton in that glorious familial red that he could never resist, the material thin enough that multiple layers could be easily layered one on top of the other to create an attractive gradient of reds. It was lovely and paired perfectly with a thin, black himation that draped around him rather elegantly in a pretty imitation of the Thanasi crest that would surely serve him well at the dinner. One had to represent their house as best they could, after all, and Mihail liked to think that he did it better than any of his siblings, even Nethis (though he would never dare repeat such a sentiment before the woman, else he was certain he would get into more trouble than a cute little smile and fluttering of tear-filled eyelashes could fix).
The staff may well be trusted with the simple task of preparing a bath, but their abilities were unknown when it came to the clever details of cosmetics and hair, especially when their current master did not especially require such services. Thus, Mihail had chosen to take matters into his own, far safer hands. He had not allowed them to do much more than brush out those few knots that always inevitably appeared after as intense a night as he had had, then slowly slicked it back himself, almost strand by strand to ensure the desired volume. Only Paris knew how to do it properly so that his hair curled back with mildly more volume at the front and spiralled neatly around his ears, held gently in place with a delicate collection of serpentine pins that peeked out at appropriate intervals, as though teasing.
His eyes were rimmed in dark kohl, curved dramatically outwards and upwards and flecked with minuscule particles of gold to match the bangles (sorry, Nethis) that decorated his arms and the coins sewn into the hem of his himation. It was more understated than his usual, but some people didn’t require more than the smallest amount of effort to look good, and he was pleased with the design.
“I am borrowing a carriage,” he informed Basileios as he exited the room commandeered as a dressing room since his initial arrival in the man’s life several months prior, the words meant to serve as an instruction for the staff to prepare one. “You can wait for me, but if I am not back until late then assume I went home...mine or otherwise.” He dropped dramatically onto a kline to adjust the snaking straps of his sandals, falling languidly back onto the cushions once it was done, waiting for the word that his transportation was ready. “If you miss me too much, you can always buy me something cute to remember me better.” It was phrased as a suggestion, but it was an obvious request and elicited a small chuckle in response. Chuckles meant yes, but nothing ever really meant no.
By the time the carriage — it was not as nice as the Thanasi ones, but it was comfortable enough for the short journey — arrived at the Dikastirio, it was already awfully late. Not that Mihail minded in the slightest, for tardiness was always fashionable when in the hands of the proper individual. He stepped out, tossed a vague command at the driver that he should wait until he re-emerged, accompanied by a quick threat expressing the consequence of disobedience, and then made his way inside.
Whatever had happened before he arrived, he did not think he wanted to know. A group of noticeably low worth individuals were hovering irritably by the entrance, half-swaying on their feet. One man in the group looked thoroughly worse for wear, as though he had already downed every drink in Colchis, and was currently emptying his stomach onto the stone flooring. The woman was still singing, though her wailed rhymes were far from appealing, and their attempts at introducing those who passed questionable. When her eyes turned onto the youngest Thanasi, he raised a hand before she could part her lips in turn, thoroughly uninterested. “Speak, and I shall personally slice your tongue from your mouth. Sing, and I assure you that your fate shall be far worse.” She shrank back, appropriately afraid, and slipped back into the whispers she shared with her friends instead.
His tardiness was noticeable in the way the servants had already closed the doors and scrambled to reopen them, though he didn’t mind the additional flair it provided his entrance and, for a moment, Mihail stood still and silent with painted fingertips dancing on his hips as he glanced over the scene. Fashionably late, but still not so horrendously so that he would be considered genuinely late, which was the true embarrassment. A servant gestured towards his assigned place — disastrously chosen, he might add, given that he must have been seated between two of the primmest ladies in all Greece — though he paused in his approach to find two of his sisters in the midst of some discussion. He caught only ends, but it was well within Thanasi nature to remain observant, and he could piece conversation together.
“Thea!” he cried in a tone reminiscent of the ones his sisters used when chastising him for some deed or another. “We should not mock the less fortunate. Some of us do not have the privilege of fine tutors to teach us the etiquette of not inserting ourselves in the conversations of others.” His gaze flickered towards Ophelia, momentarily darkened in that familiarly protective way he had always had, then brightened to turn terrible sweet as he glanced towards Nethis, waving his arm before her so the bracelets along it clattered together. “Thank you so much for the pretty bangles, Net.”
With that, he would have turned to take a seat beside Ophelia as unfortunately directed, if she had not opted for an entire cavalcade of offence. He did not take any unkindness towards his sisters, not when they had raised him into all that he was. An eyebrow quirked upwards again at her comment, and he leaned in close so that his lips hovered mere inches from her ear. “If you dare speak ill of my sisters again, I can personally assure you that it shall be the last time,” he hissed, before turning back to his cute smile to slide into his seat on the girl’s other side, so that she was practically surrounded by his family. It was not particularly the best position in which to be if one was bent on insulting them. His tone returned to something more pleasantly conversational, although his words were not. “It is really is quite unfortunate that respect for your betters did not factor into any of your lessons, Lady Ophelia. Especially when you appear so well-versed in all other vital matters of court. Whatever would we do without yet another noble lady who can sing and simper and nothing much else?”
Mihail reached for his waiting wine goblet then, offering Ophelia a reasonably kind chance to respond as he took a long sip. Before she did, however, she had reached for a handkerchief, and in her obvious attempt to lean away from all three Thanasi at once — rather a feat when they were on either side of her — had instead revealed the few droplets of dark blood on the white fabric. Oh, no. He was categorically not sitting beside some girl who was on the verge of pouring her guts onto the table and, more importantly, onto him.
It was not that the Thanasi did not like blood: conversely, he usually found that he adored it and it filled him with a greater lust than most things. There was a difference, however, being the cause for its appearance and simply being a witness, and the latter was not appreciated. He did not care for filth or sickness or anything of the sort, and when he had accepted the invitation to the dinner, this was not what he had expected. He was not intending to sit beside the girl in this state, and he was not planning to leave the event ill enough that blood poured from his lips as well.
“I did not realise they were letting in any old street lepers,” he muttered, pointedly taking his goblet as he stood from his place and moved rather unsubtly down one to the currently unoccupied seat of Princess Emilia. It was not much distance, but it was better than sitting directly beside a woman bent on sending them all the Hades with one misplaced cough. Besides, he supposed he could muster some degree of conversation with his cousin.
Mihail had initially dismissed the invitation when it had arrived. He did not traditionally care for the dull festivities of others, and, were he to accept a request to attend an event, he tended to favour those that were certain to grow a little more...debauched. A formal dinner was not in his preference, and certainly not when he had never found himself to have much of an appetite, preferring to pick half-heartedly at the meals set before him and ignore the unavoidable commentary regarding the alleged ungratefulness of this particular trait, as though he had not made his disdain towards such matters excruciatingly clear on a dozen occasions. Thus, the slip of an invitation had been torn into disinterested pieces of parchment and left to be tidied by the ever-efficient Paris (this compliment had not, however, been verbally extended to the slave).
But the youngest Thanasi had found himself with little to do of late. Or rather, he was finding a certain dullness in his current routine, and while he was typically glad to waste away his days with all those enjoyable activities that his sisters deemed less than useful, the change the schedule would provide had become surprisingly welcome. Thus, his acceptance became a last-minute one on the very morning of, and his activities had been forced to shift to accommodate this new desired schedule of party preparation over the usual languid days spent in the comfort of his chambers-cum-opium den.
The previous night had been spent in a foreign bedroom, wrapped in the warm arms of an older man with half-greying hair who promised him the world and offered him more jewels than any noblewoman likely possessed (though his current collection was already questionably extensive). Basileios was quite wonderful and, dear, so wealthy that he almost lived up to his name. They had met while Mihail was otherwise interested in pursuing a relationship with his rather flirtatious daughter, and his attention had shifted instead to fall on the father, although he supposed that many of his interests fell mostly on the quality of the sex and the easy spending of drachmae. There were no true feelings or genuine affection for the man but, then again, there never were, and he made a comfortable companion with which to while away the hours when nothing else would do.
When he had awoken that morning, he had disappeared from the room early to practice his archery, then slipped back into the bed even before the other awoke, far closer to the middle of the day. When he did, Mihail was watching him with an easy smile resting on his lips. “Bas…” he whispered, trailing off in that coy manner that was designed to give him whatever he wanted and usually worked. Not that he was about to ask for much, but one always had to be prepared. “I have a party tonight. I can spend the day and get ready here, right? There are just so many people in my house right now; it is a nightmare.”
He said yes, but of course he did.
Mihail had given the man a soft peck on the cheek in thanks and sent some lingering servant to draw him a bath while he rifled through the pretty chitons and other fabrics they had purchased the previous day to select something appropriate. The bath itself — scented with some citrus oils because they did not possess his favoured floral fragrances —was perfectly boiling and uninterrupted by the sounds of others. That really had become the trouble with all these guests: the Thanasi home was certainly large, but there was only so much company one could take, and it felt busy even when it was not. This quiet bath was a more than welcome opportunity to relax, and he might have gladly wasted more hours than necessary in its comfort had he not been reasonably aware of some schedule.
Among the wide selection of purchased fabrics was a chiton in that glorious familial red that he could never resist, the material thin enough that multiple layers could be easily layered one on top of the other to create an attractive gradient of reds. It was lovely and paired perfectly with a thin, black himation that draped around him rather elegantly in a pretty imitation of the Thanasi crest that would surely serve him well at the dinner. One had to represent their house as best they could, after all, and Mihail liked to think that he did it better than any of his siblings, even Nethis (though he would never dare repeat such a sentiment before the woman, else he was certain he would get into more trouble than a cute little smile and fluttering of tear-filled eyelashes could fix).
The staff may well be trusted with the simple task of preparing a bath, but their abilities were unknown when it came to the clever details of cosmetics and hair, especially when their current master did not especially require such services. Thus, Mihail had chosen to take matters into his own, far safer hands. He had not allowed them to do much more than brush out those few knots that always inevitably appeared after as intense a night as he had had, then slowly slicked it back himself, almost strand by strand to ensure the desired volume. Only Paris knew how to do it properly so that his hair curled back with mildly more volume at the front and spiralled neatly around his ears, held gently in place with a delicate collection of serpentine pins that peeked out at appropriate intervals, as though teasing.
His eyes were rimmed in dark kohl, curved dramatically outwards and upwards and flecked with minuscule particles of gold to match the bangles (sorry, Nethis) that decorated his arms and the coins sewn into the hem of his himation. It was more understated than his usual, but some people didn’t require more than the smallest amount of effort to look good, and he was pleased with the design.
“I am borrowing a carriage,” he informed Basileios as he exited the room commandeered as a dressing room since his initial arrival in the man’s life several months prior, the words meant to serve as an instruction for the staff to prepare one. “You can wait for me, but if I am not back until late then assume I went home...mine or otherwise.” He dropped dramatically onto a kline to adjust the snaking straps of his sandals, falling languidly back onto the cushions once it was done, waiting for the word that his transportation was ready. “If you miss me too much, you can always buy me something cute to remember me better.” It was phrased as a suggestion, but it was an obvious request and elicited a small chuckle in response. Chuckles meant yes, but nothing ever really meant no.
By the time the carriage — it was not as nice as the Thanasi ones, but it was comfortable enough for the short journey — arrived at the Dikastirio, it was already awfully late. Not that Mihail minded in the slightest, for tardiness was always fashionable when in the hands of the proper individual. He stepped out, tossed a vague command at the driver that he should wait until he re-emerged, accompanied by a quick threat expressing the consequence of disobedience, and then made his way inside.
Whatever had happened before he arrived, he did not think he wanted to know. A group of noticeably low worth individuals were hovering irritably by the entrance, half-swaying on their feet. One man in the group looked thoroughly worse for wear, as though he had already downed every drink in Colchis, and was currently emptying his stomach onto the stone flooring. The woman was still singing, though her wailed rhymes were far from appealing, and their attempts at introducing those who passed questionable. When her eyes turned onto the youngest Thanasi, he raised a hand before she could part her lips in turn, thoroughly uninterested. “Speak, and I shall personally slice your tongue from your mouth. Sing, and I assure you that your fate shall be far worse.” She shrank back, appropriately afraid, and slipped back into the whispers she shared with her friends instead.
His tardiness was noticeable in the way the servants had already closed the doors and scrambled to reopen them, though he didn’t mind the additional flair it provided his entrance and, for a moment, Mihail stood still and silent with painted fingertips dancing on his hips as he glanced over the scene. Fashionably late, but still not so horrendously so that he would be considered genuinely late, which was the true embarrassment. A servant gestured towards his assigned place — disastrously chosen, he might add, given that he must have been seated between two of the primmest ladies in all Greece — though he paused in his approach to find two of his sisters in the midst of some discussion. He caught only ends, but it was well within Thanasi nature to remain observant, and he could piece conversation together.
“Thea!” he cried in a tone reminiscent of the ones his sisters used when chastising him for some deed or another. “We should not mock the less fortunate. Some of us do not have the privilege of fine tutors to teach us the etiquette of not inserting ourselves in the conversations of others.” His gaze flickered towards Ophelia, momentarily darkened in that familiarly protective way he had always had, then brightened to turn terrible sweet as he glanced towards Nethis, waving his arm before her so the bracelets along it clattered together. “Thank you so much for the pretty bangles, Net.”
With that, he would have turned to take a seat beside Ophelia as unfortunately directed, if she had not opted for an entire cavalcade of offence. He did not take any unkindness towards his sisters, not when they had raised him into all that he was. An eyebrow quirked upwards again at her comment, and he leaned in close so that his lips hovered mere inches from her ear. “If you dare speak ill of my sisters again, I can personally assure you that it shall be the last time,” he hissed, before turning back to his cute smile to slide into his seat on the girl’s other side, so that she was practically surrounded by his family. It was not particularly the best position in which to be if one was bent on insulting them. His tone returned to something more pleasantly conversational, although his words were not. “It is really is quite unfortunate that respect for your betters did not factor into any of your lessons, Lady Ophelia. Especially when you appear so well-versed in all other vital matters of court. Whatever would we do without yet another noble lady who can sing and simper and nothing much else?”
Mihail reached for his waiting wine goblet then, offering Ophelia a reasonably kind chance to respond as he took a long sip. Before she did, however, she had reached for a handkerchief, and in her obvious attempt to lean away from all three Thanasi at once — rather a feat when they were on either side of her — had instead revealed the few droplets of dark blood on the white fabric. Oh, no. He was categorically not sitting beside some girl who was on the verge of pouring her guts onto the table and, more importantly, onto him.
It was not that the Thanasi did not like blood: conversely, he usually found that he adored it and it filled him with a greater lust than most things. There was a difference, however, being the cause for its appearance and simply being a witness, and the latter was not appreciated. He did not care for filth or sickness or anything of the sort, and when he had accepted the invitation to the dinner, this was not what he had expected. He was not intending to sit beside the girl in this state, and he was not planning to leave the event ill enough that blood poured from his lips as well.
“I did not realise they were letting in any old street lepers,” he muttered, pointedly taking his goblet as he stood from his place and moved rather unsubtly down one to the currently unoccupied seat of Princess Emilia. It was not much distance, but it was better than sitting directly beside a woman bent on sending them all the Hades with one misplaced cough. Besides, he supposed he could muster some degree of conversation with his cousin.
It took no genius to figure out how to dress properly for an occasion such as this. It took no genius to see the looks given to some and the admiration to others. Yet, Stelios found himself in a bit of a pickle. He had arrived a few minutes later than he was supposed to due to having fault with his clothing and now was standing at the doorway looking in. He could see the empty chairs filling, he could see the way many of the people here were accustomed to greeting each other. What he couldn't see was the fact that Imeeya was purposely avoiding him ever since the drunken night before. The nigjt before played over and nfb over in Stelios' head this afternoon and as such he had taken himself away from the Drakos household for an hours time in order to recollect his thoughts.
It was not just because of what had transpired the previous night, no. It was also due to the letter he had received from one of the generals he admired. It seemed that Panos wished to have a conversation and as such, Stelios would seek him out upon his return to Athenia. But then when he arrived here at this eventful party, he noticed the older man as well as some of his grandchildren. He could see Dani and her...conversational partner, a man of low birth, likely trying to woo Dani into his bed. Good luck, was Stelios' thoughts as he watched them for a moment before looking to the others present. He couldnsee the vipers of the Leventi and a young woman having a small coughing spat. The way she looked down at her handkerchief told him what he needed to know. Stelios' eyes then noticed Lady Tythra was also in attendance and as such she would be the first he would greet. But, then he noticed the slightly panicking look of Imeeya. Of course, this was due to what had transpired. So, for now Stelios veered away from the seat he was going to claim and greeted the other hosts with a smile and bow.
Quietly, Stelios began approaching the chair he had been assigned and...noticed who was all around him. So many names he knew, names he didnt want to associate with at the moment, for these people could easily destroy him as soon as he began. So, in his best behavior he walked back toward the table with a gentle smile and nod. And as he got closer he was about to speak to Imeeya when he overheard what Dani had said. On pure reaction his hand went toward his hip as if to grab his sword, but as there was a rule to no weapons being allowed, his sword was absent. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a breath and then opened them. Instead of acting out as he normally would, he ignored Danis outburst and walked toward Imeeya. With a smile he spoke to her.
"Lady Imeeya, you're looking as beautiful as you did this morning." With the compliment given he bowed his head before turning his attention to the others in attendance. His eyes first noticed The Thanasi women, he woukd have to greet them separately later on, once he was done with his dinner, maybe even see if they could have a lunch date of sorts. So finally with a smile he sat down at his chair.And as Mimi arrived, he couldn't help but watch as he insulted Ophelia and simultaneously avoided a confrontation, well played, Stelios smiled to himself.
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It took no genius to figure out how to dress properly for an occasion such as this. It took no genius to see the looks given to some and the admiration to others. Yet, Stelios found himself in a bit of a pickle. He had arrived a few minutes later than he was supposed to due to having fault with his clothing and now was standing at the doorway looking in. He could see the empty chairs filling, he could see the way many of the people here were accustomed to greeting each other. What he couldn't see was the fact that Imeeya was purposely avoiding him ever since the drunken night before. The nigjt before played over and nfb over in Stelios' head this afternoon and as such he had taken himself away from the Drakos household for an hours time in order to recollect his thoughts.
It was not just because of what had transpired the previous night, no. It was also due to the letter he had received from one of the generals he admired. It seemed that Panos wished to have a conversation and as such, Stelios would seek him out upon his return to Athenia. But then when he arrived here at this eventful party, he noticed the older man as well as some of his grandchildren. He could see Dani and her...conversational partner, a man of low birth, likely trying to woo Dani into his bed. Good luck, was Stelios' thoughts as he watched them for a moment before looking to the others present. He couldnsee the vipers of the Leventi and a young woman having a small coughing spat. The way she looked down at her handkerchief told him what he needed to know. Stelios' eyes then noticed Lady Tythra was also in attendance and as such she would be the first he would greet. But, then he noticed the slightly panicking look of Imeeya. Of course, this was due to what had transpired. So, for now Stelios veered away from the seat he was going to claim and greeted the other hosts with a smile and bow.
Quietly, Stelios began approaching the chair he had been assigned and...noticed who was all around him. So many names he knew, names he didnt want to associate with at the moment, for these people could easily destroy him as soon as he began. So, in his best behavior he walked back toward the table with a gentle smile and nod. And as he got closer he was about to speak to Imeeya when he overheard what Dani had said. On pure reaction his hand went toward his hip as if to grab his sword, but as there was a rule to no weapons being allowed, his sword was absent. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a breath and then opened them. Instead of acting out as he normally would, he ignored Danis outburst and walked toward Imeeya. With a smile he spoke to her.
"Lady Imeeya, you're looking as beautiful as you did this morning." With the compliment given he bowed his head before turning his attention to the others in attendance. His eyes first noticed The Thanasi women, he woukd have to greet them separately later on, once he was done with his dinner, maybe even see if they could have a lunch date of sorts. So finally with a smile he sat down at his chair.And as Mimi arrived, he couldn't help but watch as he insulted Ophelia and simultaneously avoided a confrontation, well played, Stelios smiled to himself.
It took no genius to figure out how to dress properly for an occasion such as this. It took no genius to see the looks given to some and the admiration to others. Yet, Stelios found himself in a bit of a pickle. He had arrived a few minutes later than he was supposed to due to having fault with his clothing and now was standing at the doorway looking in. He could see the empty chairs filling, he could see the way many of the people here were accustomed to greeting each other. What he couldn't see was the fact that Imeeya was purposely avoiding him ever since the drunken night before. The nigjt before played over and nfb over in Stelios' head this afternoon and as such he had taken himself away from the Drakos household for an hours time in order to recollect his thoughts.
It was not just because of what had transpired the previous night, no. It was also due to the letter he had received from one of the generals he admired. It seemed that Panos wished to have a conversation and as such, Stelios would seek him out upon his return to Athenia. But then when he arrived here at this eventful party, he noticed the older man as well as some of his grandchildren. He could see Dani and her...conversational partner, a man of low birth, likely trying to woo Dani into his bed. Good luck, was Stelios' thoughts as he watched them for a moment before looking to the others present. He couldnsee the vipers of the Leventi and a young woman having a small coughing spat. The way she looked down at her handkerchief told him what he needed to know. Stelios' eyes then noticed Lady Tythra was also in attendance and as such she would be the first he would greet. But, then he noticed the slightly panicking look of Imeeya. Of course, this was due to what had transpired. So, for now Stelios veered away from the seat he was going to claim and greeted the other hosts with a smile and bow.
Quietly, Stelios began approaching the chair he had been assigned and...noticed who was all around him. So many names he knew, names he didnt want to associate with at the moment, for these people could easily destroy him as soon as he began. So, in his best behavior he walked back toward the table with a gentle smile and nod. And as he got closer he was about to speak to Imeeya when he overheard what Dani had said. On pure reaction his hand went toward his hip as if to grab his sword, but as there was a rule to no weapons being allowed, his sword was absent. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a breath and then opened them. Instead of acting out as he normally would, he ignored Danis outburst and walked toward Imeeya. With a smile he spoke to her.
"Lady Imeeya, you're looking as beautiful as you did this morning." With the compliment given he bowed his head before turning his attention to the others in attendance. His eyes first noticed The Thanasi women, he woukd have to greet them separately later on, once he was done with his dinner, maybe even see if they could have a lunch date of sorts. So finally with a smile he sat down at his chair.And as Mimi arrived, he couldn't help but watch as he insulted Ophelia and simultaneously avoided a confrontation, well played, Stelios smiled to himself.
Kaia felt numb.
The sound of chatter rang through the large building, seeping into all the rooms, until it was nothing more than a constant hum amidst the rest of the kitchen noises. Kaia stood wordlessly, dressed in a clean white chiton she’d stolen from a random clothesline in the capital, as Aea had insisted, chopping the vegetables as she had been instructed. Funnily enough, when she had climbed the stairs of the great Dikastirio and approached the kitchen maids, insisting that she was one of Lady Aidoni’s attendants, no one questioned her. Kaia had honestly not expected the plan to work, and under normal circumstances would have kicked up a fuss about going dressed as a servant while Aea got to play dress up with a princess. However the gods had spun the wheel of fate for the two cousins and as such, Aea had not been gifted a favourable hand. Kaia didn’t know what she could do to make things right—no, she knew she never could. She wanted to be there for her cousin, but did not know the first thing about showing support. Kaia tried to think back on how Aea had treated her when Callie died, but Callie had been like a mother of sorts to Aea too, so the situation had been quite different.
“Does Lady Aidoni reward your tardiness? Be quick about it!”
Kaia gave a small start and snapped her cool blue eyes towards the voice of the older woman who had spoken to her. Beside the head cook, the woman—Leta—seemed to be in charge of managing the servants. It didn’t seem to matter from which household they each came, every task needed to be completed, and completed well.
Kaia gave a hasty nod, then went back to her task. Truth be told, when back at the campsite, the crude way she prepared their vegetables—if they were fortunate enough to have so many—was not a problem. They were always hungry, so there was no time to worry about making each piece perfect, so long as there was no unnecessary waste. As a kitchen hand though, Kaia’s skills—or lack there of—were noticeably unpractised. It was ironic that she could carve the flesh of man or game with ease and precision, but could not keep up with the other servants when preparing vegetables. Back at camp, they would be so lucky to have such an abundance of food. Hektos—
’Oh Gods, don’t think about it,’ Kaia reminded herself sharply, but it was too late. The image of her uncle's head being cut clean from his shoulders would forever be etched into her memory.
Kaia looked around for something to distract her from her memories, anything. Some of the servants were not so well dressed considering the stress that was put on Kaia to find only the whitest and cleanest of clothes. While curious, it was certainly not Kaia’s place to judge. Most of the people in the room were still better dressed than Kaia had ever been, save for the peplos she’d been given to wear at the festival the day before. How long ago that seemed.
“Are you daft, girl? Focus!” Leta snapped, suddenly at Kaia’s shoulder once more. Kaia nodded apologetically and frowned in concentration at her hands as they worked.
“Don’t be so hard, Leta. Look at her. She’d be better off as a serving girl,” another woman piped up. Kaia chanced a glance at the woman, then darted her gaze towards Leta, who was scowling.
“Fine. Fine! But let this be your warning, girl; if you make a fool out there, you’ll be thrown in with the slaves.”
Kaia’s eyes widened a little at that. The slaves? She dared not look around, instead giving an earnest nod, “of course.” Leta gave a huff and ambled away, muttering under her breath. Kaia turned back towards the woman who had spoken and it occurred to her that she was a slave. Kaia could see the brand and was suddenly filled with anger. How was it that the first person to show her kindness in the forsaken building was a slave? How was it fair that the kindly woman, who was likely of similar age to Leta, could be given such a fate?
Kaia hoped that the woman was like her uncle Gatheron and had been freed, but she did not think that was the case. Then again, Leta was clearly not a slave and had listened anyway. Perhaps the cruelty really only came from the masters, not the servants, but Kaia didn’t know for sure.
“Thank you,” Kaia murmured.
The woman lightly waved Kaia off, “never mind Leta. She runs a tight operation, but she’s a soft old thing. Now off you go. I’ll make sure you don’t miss your supper.” When Kaia gave the woman a quizzical look, she pressed on. “When Leta is in charge, the servants always get some of the leftovers and off cuts for supper, once the upper class have been fed of course.”
This surprised Kaia. She had assumed she would not be eating, not that she’d had much of an appetite all day. Still, the sentiment was a surprise, though Kaia noticed that the woman had only said servants.
“What about you?” Kaia asked quietly, hoping not to offend. The woman gave a soft smile and shook her head.
“Only if there is anything left. Don’t worry about me, you go wait on the guests.”
It hurt Kaia more than she could explain that the woman was accepting of her place in life. Kaia wished there was something she could do, but she did not want to suffer Leta’s wrath, so she nodded and followed after one of the other serving staff. Kaia glanced back over her shoulder and watched as the kindly woman returned to her station with the rest of the slaves. Kaia’s fury at the injustice of it all licked up the sides of her belly and threatened to swell up into her chest, but she urged herself to focus. She could not help the slaves just now, but she could help Aea. She needed to help Aea. If she failed, then she would fail her cousin, who really needed things to go well again. Not to mention, if Kaia failed, she’d likely earn the slave woman a punishment as well, and she did not want that either.
As Kaia made her way into the main room where all the upper class guests were seated, Kaia swept the area for her cousin. Absently, she took the tray and jug of wine when given, then continued her search. When Kaia’s eyes drifted over the woman in red, she nearly didn’t register that it was Aea she was seeing. Kaia gaped at her cousin, who looked like a true noblewoman. Gone was the girl who kept herself covered, replaced with the striking form of a goddess walking.
A motion nearby Aea caught the corner of Kaia’s eye and she sprang forwards with her jug of wine. It wasn’t until she’d already taken a number of steps that she realised it was Alexandros who had motioned for her to fill his goblet. Kaia was surprised to see him again and began to wonder what sort of joke the gods were sharing at her expense, for her constant meeting with him could not be a simple coincidence. As Kaia approached, her scope of focus widened, especially as she noticed how thoroughly engrossed the handsome captain was in his discussion. However, as Kaia began to think of what witty comment to say once she reached him, she recognised the look in his eyes and the intent of his body language. He was completely and utterly wrapt in his discussion with a rather flustered looking girl. Understanding took root in Kaia’s mind and the smile that had begun its ascent across her features was swiftly wiped away. In its place was a calm, cool expression, one built on the understanding that neither of them truly owed the other anything. They were not courting, they were not betrothed. Kaia had gone with him to his tent that night in Taengea with the understanding that it was a one-off affair.
When Kaia reached Alexandros and the woman of his attentions, she made no move to catch his attention. Kaia simply went about her task of filling the goblets with wine.
’You need someone of each gender to fulfill those cravings, it is not uncommon. Pick a serving girl, and we’ll ravish her together.’
Had she not been so close, she surely would not have heard his words. Kaia expected to feel the familiar spark of fury, but instead she felt nothing, eerily so. Their time together in Taengea had been enjoyable—for the most part—but she meant nothing to him clearly, and that was okay. Of course it was okay. Kaia knew his inclinations towards women, he made no effort to hide that part of himself to her. Though they joked about her worth in goats, she was just another woman he had sequestered to bed with him, nothing more. Of course he had charmed her, for any man who took women into their beds for sport would surely need to be charming. Now though, Kaia understood the particulars of their relationship and instead of feeling angry or betrayed, she felt calm. She now knew where she stood and that meant she knew how to view him. He could seduce every woman in the room and she would care not. Her indifference was cold and solid like stone. She now knew she owed him nothing and that revelation was liberating.
Without saying a word, Kaia moved away, her attention turning back to her cousin. Kaia moved towards her and held out the jug, “wine, Lady Aidoni?”
Lani
Kaia
Lani
Kaia
Awards
First Impressions:Lean, athletic; Straw-blonde hair, stormy blue eyes, and a nearly permanent scowl.
Address: Your
The sound of chatter rang through the large building, seeping into all the rooms, until it was nothing more than a constant hum amidst the rest of the kitchen noises. Kaia stood wordlessly, dressed in a clean white chiton she’d stolen from a random clothesline in the capital, as Aea had insisted, chopping the vegetables as she had been instructed. Funnily enough, when she had climbed the stairs of the great Dikastirio and approached the kitchen maids, insisting that she was one of Lady Aidoni’s attendants, no one questioned her. Kaia had honestly not expected the plan to work, and under normal circumstances would have kicked up a fuss about going dressed as a servant while Aea got to play dress up with a princess. However the gods had spun the wheel of fate for the two cousins and as such, Aea had not been gifted a favourable hand. Kaia didn’t know what she could do to make things right—no, she knew she never could. She wanted to be there for her cousin, but did not know the first thing about showing support. Kaia tried to think back on how Aea had treated her when Callie died, but Callie had been like a mother of sorts to Aea too, so the situation had been quite different.
“Does Lady Aidoni reward your tardiness? Be quick about it!”
Kaia gave a small start and snapped her cool blue eyes towards the voice of the older woman who had spoken to her. Beside the head cook, the woman—Leta—seemed to be in charge of managing the servants. It didn’t seem to matter from which household they each came, every task needed to be completed, and completed well.
Kaia gave a hasty nod, then went back to her task. Truth be told, when back at the campsite, the crude way she prepared their vegetables—if they were fortunate enough to have so many—was not a problem. They were always hungry, so there was no time to worry about making each piece perfect, so long as there was no unnecessary waste. As a kitchen hand though, Kaia’s skills—or lack there of—were noticeably unpractised. It was ironic that she could carve the flesh of man or game with ease and precision, but could not keep up with the other servants when preparing vegetables. Back at camp, they would be so lucky to have such an abundance of food. Hektos—
’Oh Gods, don’t think about it,’ Kaia reminded herself sharply, but it was too late. The image of her uncle's head being cut clean from his shoulders would forever be etched into her memory.
Kaia looked around for something to distract her from her memories, anything. Some of the servants were not so well dressed considering the stress that was put on Kaia to find only the whitest and cleanest of clothes. While curious, it was certainly not Kaia’s place to judge. Most of the people in the room were still better dressed than Kaia had ever been, save for the peplos she’d been given to wear at the festival the day before. How long ago that seemed.
“Are you daft, girl? Focus!” Leta snapped, suddenly at Kaia’s shoulder once more. Kaia nodded apologetically and frowned in concentration at her hands as they worked.
“Don’t be so hard, Leta. Look at her. She’d be better off as a serving girl,” another woman piped up. Kaia chanced a glance at the woman, then darted her gaze towards Leta, who was scowling.
“Fine. Fine! But let this be your warning, girl; if you make a fool out there, you’ll be thrown in with the slaves.”
Kaia’s eyes widened a little at that. The slaves? She dared not look around, instead giving an earnest nod, “of course.” Leta gave a huff and ambled away, muttering under her breath. Kaia turned back towards the woman who had spoken and it occurred to her that she was a slave. Kaia could see the brand and was suddenly filled with anger. How was it that the first person to show her kindness in the forsaken building was a slave? How was it fair that the kindly woman, who was likely of similar age to Leta, could be given such a fate?
Kaia hoped that the woman was like her uncle Gatheron and had been freed, but she did not think that was the case. Then again, Leta was clearly not a slave and had listened anyway. Perhaps the cruelty really only came from the masters, not the servants, but Kaia didn’t know for sure.
“Thank you,” Kaia murmured.
The woman lightly waved Kaia off, “never mind Leta. She runs a tight operation, but she’s a soft old thing. Now off you go. I’ll make sure you don’t miss your supper.” When Kaia gave the woman a quizzical look, she pressed on. “When Leta is in charge, the servants always get some of the leftovers and off cuts for supper, once the upper class have been fed of course.”
This surprised Kaia. She had assumed she would not be eating, not that she’d had much of an appetite all day. Still, the sentiment was a surprise, though Kaia noticed that the woman had only said servants.
“What about you?” Kaia asked quietly, hoping not to offend. The woman gave a soft smile and shook her head.
“Only if there is anything left. Don’t worry about me, you go wait on the guests.”
It hurt Kaia more than she could explain that the woman was accepting of her place in life. Kaia wished there was something she could do, but she did not want to suffer Leta’s wrath, so she nodded and followed after one of the other serving staff. Kaia glanced back over her shoulder and watched as the kindly woman returned to her station with the rest of the slaves. Kaia’s fury at the injustice of it all licked up the sides of her belly and threatened to swell up into her chest, but she urged herself to focus. She could not help the slaves just now, but she could help Aea. She needed to help Aea. If she failed, then she would fail her cousin, who really needed things to go well again. Not to mention, if Kaia failed, she’d likely earn the slave woman a punishment as well, and she did not want that either.
As Kaia made her way into the main room where all the upper class guests were seated, Kaia swept the area for her cousin. Absently, she took the tray and jug of wine when given, then continued her search. When Kaia’s eyes drifted over the woman in red, she nearly didn’t register that it was Aea she was seeing. Kaia gaped at her cousin, who looked like a true noblewoman. Gone was the girl who kept herself covered, replaced with the striking form of a goddess walking.
A motion nearby Aea caught the corner of Kaia’s eye and she sprang forwards with her jug of wine. It wasn’t until she’d already taken a number of steps that she realised it was Alexandros who had motioned for her to fill his goblet. Kaia was surprised to see him again and began to wonder what sort of joke the gods were sharing at her expense, for her constant meeting with him could not be a simple coincidence. As Kaia approached, her scope of focus widened, especially as she noticed how thoroughly engrossed the handsome captain was in his discussion. However, as Kaia began to think of what witty comment to say once she reached him, she recognised the look in his eyes and the intent of his body language. He was completely and utterly wrapt in his discussion with a rather flustered looking girl. Understanding took root in Kaia’s mind and the smile that had begun its ascent across her features was swiftly wiped away. In its place was a calm, cool expression, one built on the understanding that neither of them truly owed the other anything. They were not courting, they were not betrothed. Kaia had gone with him to his tent that night in Taengea with the understanding that it was a one-off affair.
When Kaia reached Alexandros and the woman of his attentions, she made no move to catch his attention. Kaia simply went about her task of filling the goblets with wine.
’You need someone of each gender to fulfill those cravings, it is not uncommon. Pick a serving girl, and we’ll ravish her together.’
Had she not been so close, she surely would not have heard his words. Kaia expected to feel the familiar spark of fury, but instead she felt nothing, eerily so. Their time together in Taengea had been enjoyable—for the most part—but she meant nothing to him clearly, and that was okay. Of course it was okay. Kaia knew his inclinations towards women, he made no effort to hide that part of himself to her. Though they joked about her worth in goats, she was just another woman he had sequestered to bed with him, nothing more. Of course he had charmed her, for any man who took women into their beds for sport would surely need to be charming. Now though, Kaia understood the particulars of their relationship and instead of feeling angry or betrayed, she felt calm. She now knew where she stood and that meant she knew how to view him. He could seduce every woman in the room and she would care not. Her indifference was cold and solid like stone. She now knew she owed him nothing and that revelation was liberating.
Without saying a word, Kaia moved away, her attention turning back to her cousin. Kaia moved towards her and held out the jug, “wine, Lady Aidoni?”
Kaia felt numb.
The sound of chatter rang through the large building, seeping into all the rooms, until it was nothing more than a constant hum amidst the rest of the kitchen noises. Kaia stood wordlessly, dressed in a clean white chiton she’d stolen from a random clothesline in the capital, as Aea had insisted, chopping the vegetables as she had been instructed. Funnily enough, when she had climbed the stairs of the great Dikastirio and approached the kitchen maids, insisting that she was one of Lady Aidoni’s attendants, no one questioned her. Kaia had honestly not expected the plan to work, and under normal circumstances would have kicked up a fuss about going dressed as a servant while Aea got to play dress up with a princess. However the gods had spun the wheel of fate for the two cousins and as such, Aea had not been gifted a favourable hand. Kaia didn’t know what she could do to make things right—no, she knew she never could. She wanted to be there for her cousin, but did not know the first thing about showing support. Kaia tried to think back on how Aea had treated her when Callie died, but Callie had been like a mother of sorts to Aea too, so the situation had been quite different.
“Does Lady Aidoni reward your tardiness? Be quick about it!”
Kaia gave a small start and snapped her cool blue eyes towards the voice of the older woman who had spoken to her. Beside the head cook, the woman—Leta—seemed to be in charge of managing the servants. It didn’t seem to matter from which household they each came, every task needed to be completed, and completed well.
Kaia gave a hasty nod, then went back to her task. Truth be told, when back at the campsite, the crude way she prepared their vegetables—if they were fortunate enough to have so many—was not a problem. They were always hungry, so there was no time to worry about making each piece perfect, so long as there was no unnecessary waste. As a kitchen hand though, Kaia’s skills—or lack there of—were noticeably unpractised. It was ironic that she could carve the flesh of man or game with ease and precision, but could not keep up with the other servants when preparing vegetables. Back at camp, they would be so lucky to have such an abundance of food. Hektos—
’Oh Gods, don’t think about it,’ Kaia reminded herself sharply, but it was too late. The image of her uncle's head being cut clean from his shoulders would forever be etched into her memory.
Kaia looked around for something to distract her from her memories, anything. Some of the servants were not so well dressed considering the stress that was put on Kaia to find only the whitest and cleanest of clothes. While curious, it was certainly not Kaia’s place to judge. Most of the people in the room were still better dressed than Kaia had ever been, save for the peplos she’d been given to wear at the festival the day before. How long ago that seemed.
“Are you daft, girl? Focus!” Leta snapped, suddenly at Kaia’s shoulder once more. Kaia nodded apologetically and frowned in concentration at her hands as they worked.
“Don’t be so hard, Leta. Look at her. She’d be better off as a serving girl,” another woman piped up. Kaia chanced a glance at the woman, then darted her gaze towards Leta, who was scowling.
“Fine. Fine! But let this be your warning, girl; if you make a fool out there, you’ll be thrown in with the slaves.”
Kaia’s eyes widened a little at that. The slaves? She dared not look around, instead giving an earnest nod, “of course.” Leta gave a huff and ambled away, muttering under her breath. Kaia turned back towards the woman who had spoken and it occurred to her that she was a slave. Kaia could see the brand and was suddenly filled with anger. How was it that the first person to show her kindness in the forsaken building was a slave? How was it fair that the kindly woman, who was likely of similar age to Leta, could be given such a fate?
Kaia hoped that the woman was like her uncle Gatheron and had been freed, but she did not think that was the case. Then again, Leta was clearly not a slave and had listened anyway. Perhaps the cruelty really only came from the masters, not the servants, but Kaia didn’t know for sure.
“Thank you,” Kaia murmured.
The woman lightly waved Kaia off, “never mind Leta. She runs a tight operation, but she’s a soft old thing. Now off you go. I’ll make sure you don’t miss your supper.” When Kaia gave the woman a quizzical look, she pressed on. “When Leta is in charge, the servants always get some of the leftovers and off cuts for supper, once the upper class have been fed of course.”
This surprised Kaia. She had assumed she would not be eating, not that she’d had much of an appetite all day. Still, the sentiment was a surprise, though Kaia noticed that the woman had only said servants.
“What about you?” Kaia asked quietly, hoping not to offend. The woman gave a soft smile and shook her head.
“Only if there is anything left. Don’t worry about me, you go wait on the guests.”
It hurt Kaia more than she could explain that the woman was accepting of her place in life. Kaia wished there was something she could do, but she did not want to suffer Leta’s wrath, so she nodded and followed after one of the other serving staff. Kaia glanced back over her shoulder and watched as the kindly woman returned to her station with the rest of the slaves. Kaia’s fury at the injustice of it all licked up the sides of her belly and threatened to swell up into her chest, but she urged herself to focus. She could not help the slaves just now, but she could help Aea. She needed to help Aea. If she failed, then she would fail her cousin, who really needed things to go well again. Not to mention, if Kaia failed, she’d likely earn the slave woman a punishment as well, and she did not want that either.
As Kaia made her way into the main room where all the upper class guests were seated, Kaia swept the area for her cousin. Absently, she took the tray and jug of wine when given, then continued her search. When Kaia’s eyes drifted over the woman in red, she nearly didn’t register that it was Aea she was seeing. Kaia gaped at her cousin, who looked like a true noblewoman. Gone was the girl who kept herself covered, replaced with the striking form of a goddess walking.
A motion nearby Aea caught the corner of Kaia’s eye and she sprang forwards with her jug of wine. It wasn’t until she’d already taken a number of steps that she realised it was Alexandros who had motioned for her to fill his goblet. Kaia was surprised to see him again and began to wonder what sort of joke the gods were sharing at her expense, for her constant meeting with him could not be a simple coincidence. As Kaia approached, her scope of focus widened, especially as she noticed how thoroughly engrossed the handsome captain was in his discussion. However, as Kaia began to think of what witty comment to say once she reached him, she recognised the look in his eyes and the intent of his body language. He was completely and utterly wrapt in his discussion with a rather flustered looking girl. Understanding took root in Kaia’s mind and the smile that had begun its ascent across her features was swiftly wiped away. In its place was a calm, cool expression, one built on the understanding that neither of them truly owed the other anything. They were not courting, they were not betrothed. Kaia had gone with him to his tent that night in Taengea with the understanding that it was a one-off affair.
When Kaia reached Alexandros and the woman of his attentions, she made no move to catch his attention. Kaia simply went about her task of filling the goblets with wine.
’You need someone of each gender to fulfill those cravings, it is not uncommon. Pick a serving girl, and we’ll ravish her together.’
Had she not been so close, she surely would not have heard his words. Kaia expected to feel the familiar spark of fury, but instead she felt nothing, eerily so. Their time together in Taengea had been enjoyable—for the most part—but she meant nothing to him clearly, and that was okay. Of course it was okay. Kaia knew his inclinations towards women, he made no effort to hide that part of himself to her. Though they joked about her worth in goats, she was just another woman he had sequestered to bed with him, nothing more. Of course he had charmed her, for any man who took women into their beds for sport would surely need to be charming. Now though, Kaia understood the particulars of their relationship and instead of feeling angry or betrayed, she felt calm. She now knew where she stood and that meant she knew how to view him. He could seduce every woman in the room and she would care not. Her indifference was cold and solid like stone. She now knew she owed him nothing and that revelation was liberating.
Without saying a word, Kaia moved away, her attention turning back to her cousin. Kaia moved towards her and held out the jug, “wine, Lady Aidoni?”
Athanasia was content to- or more likely, amused at the idea of- Yiannis getting himself off the hook. Which honestly suited him just fine. Though he approached gently, the stranger seemed to tense at his touch, but appeared to relax after he didn't have his hand in her face. For a moment, she was his only concern. Had she been abused? He recalled his own training, when he held in place and was repeatedly struck until he didn't flinch anymore. He couldn't imagine anyone trying to bring harm to such a beautiful face. The thought drew his ire, but it was dashed when she searched his eyes for meaning, drowned out by sympathy.
“Strange you should say you knew the voice, for I was the only one speaking.” Her tone was still calm, her smile still friendly. “Had we met a first time, I’m certain I would recognize you now.”
Her words almost drew a blush, and he had to return the compliment in kind. "Oh, I have to agree. You strike me as uncommonly unforgettable," he said as she steadied herself on her feet, loathe to draw his arm from around her but he knew to mind his manners. She glanced back to Asia, as if she didn't expect his aid, and didn't know what to make of it, who only rolled her eyes, like she'd seen him do this a hundred times. Perhaps she thought he was trying to grift her new friend? Though that hardly made sense. Her response to his asking for forgiveness was equally puzzling- Was she being playful? Or had she grown up on some terribly hard streets and worked her way up? If she were Athenian, one could flip a coin and end up with just as likely an answer. He decided to coyly grin and leave it be.
“Not many people can withstand such a shove. And you moved not an inch. I take that as a challenge to try again sometime. Preferably outside, with a blade, and while I am looking at you.”
Chuckling, he replied "I can think of much better instruments to contest against one another." There was something different about her. She had such a wit, and passion. Furthermore, she seemed to be indulging in his attention. He hadn't lost a step. “You’re the one that’s going to have a bruise come morning, not I. Naturally, you’ll have to ask the princess if you can come, seeing as I have no carriage, and she does.” It was a very clever way to put distance between them, and perhaps he would be wise to allow it. The appointed hour was fast approaching- and she took every advantage of that opportunity.
"I’m... late,” she told him, but that breathless pause indicated that she was spellbound. He would have to keep playing this game with her, if the opportunity arose. And when his sister responded, he could bless her a thousand times over. She could have done any number of things to cut him off, but she went along with it for another beat. “If the Lady does not mind, neither do I,” before she decided to give up the ghost on the scheme and revealed him. “You can follow behind us on your horse, brother. We girls have our private talks and plannings to do, you know?”
"Ah, of course. Though, do tell me more of yourself, besides being late," he teased the other. He walked with them all the way to the carriage, where he offered a hand up to each of the ladies. Of course, he took the full opportunity to gently caress the back of Aea's hand, his fingertips tracing her smooth skin before he let go. Soon after he would mount his thoroughbred, Ponirós. He caught his Sister's smile, and smiled back, the same glint in his eye as there had always been. He felt this was going to be a tremendously entertaining evening, no matter its outcome.
Upon arrival, he narrowly avoided being accosted by one of the elders who was deep in his cups. One of the guards from the Colchian mine recognized him- Vetya was his name- and saw the pleading and worried look Yiannis gave him as the old man was making a beeline for the young Prince. Heading the drunkard off, Yiannis was free, and noted that he would have to reward Vetya soon. On the heels of the pair, it became apparent Asia had started her own game. Very well. He was lightfooted and keeping his distance. This was far from the first time he had tailed someone. He greeted the guards and had nothing apparent to surrender, though found himself disappointed when the sharp-eyed one noticed the stiff shape behind his belt. Handing over the knife, he was allowed entry. For some reason, the stranger was affecting an accent, and Yiannis got his finger on the pulse of what Asia was up to. Was this for some longer endeavor? If it was, he had no objection, though he certainly did want in.
As he entered, the hall was decorated with splendor, banners of the three kingdoms hanging in a repeating pattern, representing their unity. A younger gentleman, not quite old enough to have hair on his chin, played a beautiful tune on the harp. Looking around, he couldn't help but smile as he saw his favored brother, following after Asia to greet him. It was at that moment that Asia made him aware of the trick she was up to, along with everyone else. Very well. He would play along. He nodded in greeting when he was mentioned, though couldn't help but notice the other beautiful woman at the table. However, the regal presence of his brother reminded him that there was a higher purpose to this, and he decided to behave himself a little better than he normally would at these affairs. "It's just like Vangelis to keep all the good ones to himself," he chided before diving in further. "And how did you come to meet Lady Aidoni?" He saw the opportunity for flattery, and ran with it. "For that matter, how often does Aphrodite surprise you with visitors from her entourage?" he asked as he looked at her friend intently with a charming smile.
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Athanasia was content to- or more likely, amused at the idea of- Yiannis getting himself off the hook. Which honestly suited him just fine. Though he approached gently, the stranger seemed to tense at his touch, but appeared to relax after he didn't have his hand in her face. For a moment, she was his only concern. Had she been abused? He recalled his own training, when he held in place and was repeatedly struck until he didn't flinch anymore. He couldn't imagine anyone trying to bring harm to such a beautiful face. The thought drew his ire, but it was dashed when she searched his eyes for meaning, drowned out by sympathy.
“Strange you should say you knew the voice, for I was the only one speaking.” Her tone was still calm, her smile still friendly. “Had we met a first time, I’m certain I would recognize you now.”
Her words almost drew a blush, and he had to return the compliment in kind. "Oh, I have to agree. You strike me as uncommonly unforgettable," he said as she steadied herself on her feet, loathe to draw his arm from around her but he knew to mind his manners. She glanced back to Asia, as if she didn't expect his aid, and didn't know what to make of it, who only rolled her eyes, like she'd seen him do this a hundred times. Perhaps she thought he was trying to grift her new friend? Though that hardly made sense. Her response to his asking for forgiveness was equally puzzling- Was she being playful? Or had she grown up on some terribly hard streets and worked her way up? If she were Athenian, one could flip a coin and end up with just as likely an answer. He decided to coyly grin and leave it be.
“Not many people can withstand such a shove. And you moved not an inch. I take that as a challenge to try again sometime. Preferably outside, with a blade, and while I am looking at you.”
Chuckling, he replied "I can think of much better instruments to contest against one another." There was something different about her. She had such a wit, and passion. Furthermore, she seemed to be indulging in his attention. He hadn't lost a step. “You’re the one that’s going to have a bruise come morning, not I. Naturally, you’ll have to ask the princess if you can come, seeing as I have no carriage, and she does.” It was a very clever way to put distance between them, and perhaps he would be wise to allow it. The appointed hour was fast approaching- and she took every advantage of that opportunity.
"I’m... late,” she told him, but that breathless pause indicated that she was spellbound. He would have to keep playing this game with her, if the opportunity arose. And when his sister responded, he could bless her a thousand times over. She could have done any number of things to cut him off, but she went along with it for another beat. “If the Lady does not mind, neither do I,” before she decided to give up the ghost on the scheme and revealed him. “You can follow behind us on your horse, brother. We girls have our private talks and plannings to do, you know?”
"Ah, of course. Though, do tell me more of yourself, besides being late," he teased the other. He walked with them all the way to the carriage, where he offered a hand up to each of the ladies. Of course, he took the full opportunity to gently caress the back of Aea's hand, his fingertips tracing her smooth skin before he let go. Soon after he would mount his thoroughbred, Ponirós. He caught his Sister's smile, and smiled back, the same glint in his eye as there had always been. He felt this was going to be a tremendously entertaining evening, no matter its outcome.
Upon arrival, he narrowly avoided being accosted by one of the elders who was deep in his cups. One of the guards from the Colchian mine recognized him- Vetya was his name- and saw the pleading and worried look Yiannis gave him as the old man was making a beeline for the young Prince. Heading the drunkard off, Yiannis was free, and noted that he would have to reward Vetya soon. On the heels of the pair, it became apparent Asia had started her own game. Very well. He was lightfooted and keeping his distance. This was far from the first time he had tailed someone. He greeted the guards and had nothing apparent to surrender, though found himself disappointed when the sharp-eyed one noticed the stiff shape behind his belt. Handing over the knife, he was allowed entry. For some reason, the stranger was affecting an accent, and Yiannis got his finger on the pulse of what Asia was up to. Was this for some longer endeavor? If it was, he had no objection, though he certainly did want in.
As he entered, the hall was decorated with splendor, banners of the three kingdoms hanging in a repeating pattern, representing their unity. A younger gentleman, not quite old enough to have hair on his chin, played a beautiful tune on the harp. Looking around, he couldn't help but smile as he saw his favored brother, following after Asia to greet him. It was at that moment that Asia made him aware of the trick she was up to, along with everyone else. Very well. He would play along. He nodded in greeting when he was mentioned, though couldn't help but notice the other beautiful woman at the table. However, the regal presence of his brother reminded him that there was a higher purpose to this, and he decided to behave himself a little better than he normally would at these affairs. "It's just like Vangelis to keep all the good ones to himself," he chided before diving in further. "And how did you come to meet Lady Aidoni?" He saw the opportunity for flattery, and ran with it. "For that matter, how often does Aphrodite surprise you with visitors from her entourage?" he asked as he looked at her friend intently with a charming smile.
Athanasia was content to- or more likely, amused at the idea of- Yiannis getting himself off the hook. Which honestly suited him just fine. Though he approached gently, the stranger seemed to tense at his touch, but appeared to relax after he didn't have his hand in her face. For a moment, she was his only concern. Had she been abused? He recalled his own training, when he held in place and was repeatedly struck until he didn't flinch anymore. He couldn't imagine anyone trying to bring harm to such a beautiful face. The thought drew his ire, but it was dashed when she searched his eyes for meaning, drowned out by sympathy.
“Strange you should say you knew the voice, for I was the only one speaking.” Her tone was still calm, her smile still friendly. “Had we met a first time, I’m certain I would recognize you now.”
Her words almost drew a blush, and he had to return the compliment in kind. "Oh, I have to agree. You strike me as uncommonly unforgettable," he said as she steadied herself on her feet, loathe to draw his arm from around her but he knew to mind his manners. She glanced back to Asia, as if she didn't expect his aid, and didn't know what to make of it, who only rolled her eyes, like she'd seen him do this a hundred times. Perhaps she thought he was trying to grift her new friend? Though that hardly made sense. Her response to his asking for forgiveness was equally puzzling- Was she being playful? Or had she grown up on some terribly hard streets and worked her way up? If she were Athenian, one could flip a coin and end up with just as likely an answer. He decided to coyly grin and leave it be.
“Not many people can withstand such a shove. And you moved not an inch. I take that as a challenge to try again sometime. Preferably outside, with a blade, and while I am looking at you.”
Chuckling, he replied "I can think of much better instruments to contest against one another." There was something different about her. She had such a wit, and passion. Furthermore, she seemed to be indulging in his attention. He hadn't lost a step. “You’re the one that’s going to have a bruise come morning, not I. Naturally, you’ll have to ask the princess if you can come, seeing as I have no carriage, and she does.” It was a very clever way to put distance between them, and perhaps he would be wise to allow it. The appointed hour was fast approaching- and she took every advantage of that opportunity.
"I’m... late,” she told him, but that breathless pause indicated that she was spellbound. He would have to keep playing this game with her, if the opportunity arose. And when his sister responded, he could bless her a thousand times over. She could have done any number of things to cut him off, but she went along with it for another beat. “If the Lady does not mind, neither do I,” before she decided to give up the ghost on the scheme and revealed him. “You can follow behind us on your horse, brother. We girls have our private talks and plannings to do, you know?”
"Ah, of course. Though, do tell me more of yourself, besides being late," he teased the other. He walked with them all the way to the carriage, where he offered a hand up to each of the ladies. Of course, he took the full opportunity to gently caress the back of Aea's hand, his fingertips tracing her smooth skin before he let go. Soon after he would mount his thoroughbred, Ponirós. He caught his Sister's smile, and smiled back, the same glint in his eye as there had always been. He felt this was going to be a tremendously entertaining evening, no matter its outcome.
Upon arrival, he narrowly avoided being accosted by one of the elders who was deep in his cups. One of the guards from the Colchian mine recognized him- Vetya was his name- and saw the pleading and worried look Yiannis gave him as the old man was making a beeline for the young Prince. Heading the drunkard off, Yiannis was free, and noted that he would have to reward Vetya soon. On the heels of the pair, it became apparent Asia had started her own game. Very well. He was lightfooted and keeping his distance. This was far from the first time he had tailed someone. He greeted the guards and had nothing apparent to surrender, though found himself disappointed when the sharp-eyed one noticed the stiff shape behind his belt. Handing over the knife, he was allowed entry. For some reason, the stranger was affecting an accent, and Yiannis got his finger on the pulse of what Asia was up to. Was this for some longer endeavor? If it was, he had no objection, though he certainly did want in.
As he entered, the hall was decorated with splendor, banners of the three kingdoms hanging in a repeating pattern, representing their unity. A younger gentleman, not quite old enough to have hair on his chin, played a beautiful tune on the harp. Looking around, he couldn't help but smile as he saw his favored brother, following after Asia to greet him. It was at that moment that Asia made him aware of the trick she was up to, along with everyone else. Very well. He would play along. He nodded in greeting when he was mentioned, though couldn't help but notice the other beautiful woman at the table. However, the regal presence of his brother reminded him that there was a higher purpose to this, and he decided to behave himself a little better than he normally would at these affairs. "It's just like Vangelis to keep all the good ones to himself," he chided before diving in further. "And how did you come to meet Lady Aidoni?" He saw the opportunity for flattery, and ran with it. "For that matter, how often does Aphrodite surprise you with visitors from her entourage?" he asked as he looked at her friend intently with a charming smile.
She had deigned to drink from her wine cup again, but it did not reach her lips. It paused halfway there, her eyes widening, in disbelief of what she had just heard. Surely she had not heard correctly? And yet, the words rang clear in her mind, echoing off the walls of her skull until they seeped into every pore in her soul. Pick a serving girl.
Pick a serving girl.
Pick a serving girl.
Pick a serving girl.
The rest of what this man said devolved into a slight whine, her ears no longer capable of listening. Pick a serving girl. Her hand shook as it held the cup, the liquid inside wobbling and swishing about. Pick a serving girl. So casually whispered under his breath, a secret to a wanting lover, cherished in an embrace. Pick a serving girl. Her body longed for it, begged for the touch of another, it was true. And she was disgusted by it. Disgusted by her own desires, by her want- nay, her need to be touched. To be held. To be loved. To be enclosed in the arms of another, and feel their chest against hers, their hearts beating together as one. It was what she dreamed of. What she yearned for, and what was denied her. The cruelest action gods had ever taken against mortals was to give them desire, and the knowledge that it was wrong. How could it not be? Sequestered, isolated, pushed aside, she had known nothing in her life but the sting of failure. She had failed to be born a boy, failed to be the son her father had wanted, and had failed to be the lady her family had wanted of her. Cursed, they called her. The Cursed Child. A radical. A fool. A petulant child, a tantrum-throwing brat. A lunatic. None had a kind word for her, none would allow her to speak. None would attempt to see beyond her words and into the heart within that cried out for love. For a touch. For anything.
And here was this man, saying those cursed words with that cursed laugh and that cursed grin, dangling her heart’s most yearning need before her like he would a lure for a desperate fish with the casual grace one would use to present a new chiton, or a fine wine. Pick a serving girl. He said those words like it was the easiest thing on this earth. He said them like she could simply do it. She could not. She could never, for no one wanted her. She was cursed, broken, sullied, and undesirable. Her family had seen to ensure that she knew that. What cruelty this was? To have the love she so craved presented before her, and her incapable of snatching onto it? This man did not love her. He was amused by her. Saw her as a distraction, an attraction at a circus to sneer at, and perhaps throw a few drachmas to see if she behaved. It was so. . .
So. . .
Unfair. The unfairness of it all came rushing to her like the opening thunderclap of a great storm, and her fury was upon her. How dare he? How dare he expose her like this? Delve into the depths of her soul, and leave her bared to the world? How dare he?! Now filled with righteous fury, she slammed her cup down on the table, wine spilling over the edges, her eyes alight with green fire. Her voice was not loud, but she spat out her words in a whispered hiss, dripping with venom.
“How dare you. How dare you speak to me in that fashion. Is that what you think I am? A whore so desperate that she would jump at the first chance she has? You believe me to be simply another notch on your sword? Another glorious conquest?!”
She leaned in closer, still hissing out her words.
“Speak to me in that manner once more, and I will rain down fire and fury upon you the likes of which you will never experience again, without a damn given as to who you are, your repuation, or what you have accomplished for yourself, Alexandros.”
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She had deigned to drink from her wine cup again, but it did not reach her lips. It paused halfway there, her eyes widening, in disbelief of what she had just heard. Surely she had not heard correctly? And yet, the words rang clear in her mind, echoing off the walls of her skull until they seeped into every pore in her soul. Pick a serving girl.
Pick a serving girl.
Pick a serving girl.
Pick a serving girl.
The rest of what this man said devolved into a slight whine, her ears no longer capable of listening. Pick a serving girl. Her hand shook as it held the cup, the liquid inside wobbling and swishing about. Pick a serving girl. So casually whispered under his breath, a secret to a wanting lover, cherished in an embrace. Pick a serving girl. Her body longed for it, begged for the touch of another, it was true. And she was disgusted by it. Disgusted by her own desires, by her want- nay, her need to be touched. To be held. To be loved. To be enclosed in the arms of another, and feel their chest against hers, their hearts beating together as one. It was what she dreamed of. What she yearned for, and what was denied her. The cruelest action gods had ever taken against mortals was to give them desire, and the knowledge that it was wrong. How could it not be? Sequestered, isolated, pushed aside, she had known nothing in her life but the sting of failure. She had failed to be born a boy, failed to be the son her father had wanted, and had failed to be the lady her family had wanted of her. Cursed, they called her. The Cursed Child. A radical. A fool. A petulant child, a tantrum-throwing brat. A lunatic. None had a kind word for her, none would allow her to speak. None would attempt to see beyond her words and into the heart within that cried out for love. For a touch. For anything.
And here was this man, saying those cursed words with that cursed laugh and that cursed grin, dangling her heart’s most yearning need before her like he would a lure for a desperate fish with the casual grace one would use to present a new chiton, or a fine wine. Pick a serving girl. He said those words like it was the easiest thing on this earth. He said them like she could simply do it. She could not. She could never, for no one wanted her. She was cursed, broken, sullied, and undesirable. Her family had seen to ensure that she knew that. What cruelty this was? To have the love she so craved presented before her, and her incapable of snatching onto it? This man did not love her. He was amused by her. Saw her as a distraction, an attraction at a circus to sneer at, and perhaps throw a few drachmas to see if she behaved. It was so. . .
So. . .
Unfair. The unfairness of it all came rushing to her like the opening thunderclap of a great storm, and her fury was upon her. How dare he? How dare he expose her like this? Delve into the depths of her soul, and leave her bared to the world? How dare he?! Now filled with righteous fury, she slammed her cup down on the table, wine spilling over the edges, her eyes alight with green fire. Her voice was not loud, but she spat out her words in a whispered hiss, dripping with venom.
“How dare you. How dare you speak to me in that fashion. Is that what you think I am? A whore so desperate that she would jump at the first chance she has? You believe me to be simply another notch on your sword? Another glorious conquest?!”
She leaned in closer, still hissing out her words.
“Speak to me in that manner once more, and I will rain down fire and fury upon you the likes of which you will never experience again, without a damn given as to who you are, your repuation, or what you have accomplished for yourself, Alexandros.”
She had deigned to drink from her wine cup again, but it did not reach her lips. It paused halfway there, her eyes widening, in disbelief of what she had just heard. Surely she had not heard correctly? And yet, the words rang clear in her mind, echoing off the walls of her skull until they seeped into every pore in her soul. Pick a serving girl.
Pick a serving girl.
Pick a serving girl.
Pick a serving girl.
The rest of what this man said devolved into a slight whine, her ears no longer capable of listening. Pick a serving girl. Her hand shook as it held the cup, the liquid inside wobbling and swishing about. Pick a serving girl. So casually whispered under his breath, a secret to a wanting lover, cherished in an embrace. Pick a serving girl. Her body longed for it, begged for the touch of another, it was true. And she was disgusted by it. Disgusted by her own desires, by her want- nay, her need to be touched. To be held. To be loved. To be enclosed in the arms of another, and feel their chest against hers, their hearts beating together as one. It was what she dreamed of. What she yearned for, and what was denied her. The cruelest action gods had ever taken against mortals was to give them desire, and the knowledge that it was wrong. How could it not be? Sequestered, isolated, pushed aside, she had known nothing in her life but the sting of failure. She had failed to be born a boy, failed to be the son her father had wanted, and had failed to be the lady her family had wanted of her. Cursed, they called her. The Cursed Child. A radical. A fool. A petulant child, a tantrum-throwing brat. A lunatic. None had a kind word for her, none would allow her to speak. None would attempt to see beyond her words and into the heart within that cried out for love. For a touch. For anything.
And here was this man, saying those cursed words with that cursed laugh and that cursed grin, dangling her heart’s most yearning need before her like he would a lure for a desperate fish with the casual grace one would use to present a new chiton, or a fine wine. Pick a serving girl. He said those words like it was the easiest thing on this earth. He said them like she could simply do it. She could not. She could never, for no one wanted her. She was cursed, broken, sullied, and undesirable. Her family had seen to ensure that she knew that. What cruelty this was? To have the love she so craved presented before her, and her incapable of snatching onto it? This man did not love her. He was amused by her. Saw her as a distraction, an attraction at a circus to sneer at, and perhaps throw a few drachmas to see if she behaved. It was so. . .
So. . .
Unfair. The unfairness of it all came rushing to her like the opening thunderclap of a great storm, and her fury was upon her. How dare he? How dare he expose her like this? Delve into the depths of her soul, and leave her bared to the world? How dare he?! Now filled with righteous fury, she slammed her cup down on the table, wine spilling over the edges, her eyes alight with green fire. Her voice was not loud, but she spat out her words in a whispered hiss, dripping with venom.
“How dare you. How dare you speak to me in that fashion. Is that what you think I am? A whore so desperate that she would jump at the first chance she has? You believe me to be simply another notch on your sword? Another glorious conquest?!”
She leaned in closer, still hissing out her words.
“Speak to me in that manner once more, and I will rain down fire and fury upon you the likes of which you will never experience again, without a damn given as to who you are, your repuation, or what you have accomplished for yourself, Alexandros.”
The doors were flung open for a tardy guest, and Ophelia raised her emerald eyes to see who it might be. Mihail of Thanasi stood proudly on the threshold, his stormy gaze roving from face to face. She hoped they might alight upon hers, and a smile might grace his delicate features, for to be smiled at by the Uncrowned Princess was a great feat indeed, one she would greatly revel in accomplishing. Hers were not the only pair of eyes to fix upon him, but that was hardly surprising. For one thing, he was late -- though not so late as to be considered insulting to the rest of the gathered assemblage. No, they were undoubtedly staring for the very same reason that she was. Mihail was not a handsome creature, nor was his form that of a hulking, indomitable beast. It was effeminate, beautiful, ravishing.
As was his custom, he was decked in the customary red that cut a fine contrast with his shimmering onyx mane and flawless alabaster complexion. The material was layered, deep vermilion spread beneath scarlet, garnet and the dusty hue of sunset. His thin black himation draped elegantly behind him in what could almost be called a perfect imitation of the Thanasi crest. She had to give credit where credit was due, he truly was a fine representation of the Thanasi dynesteia. Pride in his household reflected in his every word and deed, from the way he dressed to the way he worked each day to improve himself so that he might bring glory to said household through his prodigious skill in archery. She loved her house well, but she was not so dedicated to the dynasty as to identify herself as a Condos and nothing more.
And yet there was more to Mihail, for he was not merely Mihail. He was she. He was Mimi, and Mimi had appeared tonight. Mimi had graced a state dinner with her glorious presence, regardless of the propriety of the situation. A man would have been expected to wear a more masculine chiton, certainly not a layered confection, yet Mimi dared to appear as she saw fit, her head held high with pride. A man would not possess such delicate, voluminous curls to his hair, nor adorn it with delicate serpentine pins, yet Mimi’s ebony tresses flowed with such delightful waves, and the reptilian depictions peaked unapologetically through obsidian strands. His dark eyes were enhanced with kohl, lending them a look as intense as his family’s reputation. As he moved, the jangle of bangles caught her attention, and she noted how very similar they were to his sister’s. Could he have stolen them from her? No, borrowed certainly, or had a similar set crafted for his own. After all, who in their right mind would wish to touch anything she had laid her hands on?
Then again, they were siblings, and now that she thought of it, she could not recall a time when she had ever heard Mihail speak ill of his sister. Then again, her interactions with Mihail had been brief. It was she who had sought him out at all past events, drawn as she was like a moth to a vibrant flame to his feminine persona. His boldness had always left her in awe, for to her it was no small feat to defy convention and metaphorically spit in the faces of those who would dare to set you straight. Mihail was Mimi and Mimi was Mihail; both were Thanasi, both were wondrous, and that seemed to be an end to it. She had no idea if he still received strange looks or disapproving titters. If he did, he took them not to heart, for he had the soul of a Princess and the spirit of a Colchan. In short, that meant that he was very stubborn, and when he wanted something, he got it. He wanted to be Mimi, and so he was.
Ophelia wished it could be that easy for her. She burned for Evanthe, but a public courtship for them would be impossible. No man would marry her if he knew she kept a mistress, especially a female one. It was different for men. They could shamelessly flaunt their mistresses, and it was considered a good thing, a sign of their virility. But should a woman dare to court the one she loved, she was unclean, unworthy, damaged goods. Oh, some would still take her, but she would not fetch as high a pride price, nor as good a match; honour for her would be hard to find. Why marry at all, then? she had often wondered, pondering the question late at night. Deep down, she knew the answer. She adored her family, she worshipped her father, and she would never forgive herself if she failed to bring them honour. Furthermore, a secret, petty part of her yearned to make a better marriage than all those girls who had passed her over, those shining beacons of physical beauty who thought themselves above her. She knew that the Leventi’s would think themselves destined for the greatest matches in Greece, but she would prove them wrong. ‘Ever the bridesmaid, never the bride,’ that was what they whispered in Court about the Condos family when nobody thought she could hear. Elder courtiers cast her pitying looks with each year that passed by unmarked by a betrothed, and as she passed the older matrons at lavish events such as this, she would pretend to be blissfully ignorant as they murmured mournfully to themselves about how the petals of the lovely Condos Rose were soon to wither, for her youth was not eternal. She knew this too, and with each passing day grew more desperate to bind herself in matrimony, though not to a lesser being. She needed someone of import, someone who could make her family proud, provide financial security, and hopefully fulfil many other ambitions.
Perhaps he would be kind to her, value her opinions, give her say in matters of state. Should she marry a politician -- as was her ideal scenario -- she might perhaps be able to influence, from behind the scenes, the passing of laws that would improve the lives of many Grecian citizens. She had big plans for her life, plans that strayed far beyond the confines of siring heirs. Of course, she was more than willing to do her wifely duty, she simply hoped that she might get something in return. Perhaps if she made the right bargain with the right man, the Fates would favour her.
Unfortunately, she seemed to be in a very precious position tonight. With two secrets now weighing upon her -- though one was tucked safely in a goosefeather bed -- and surrounded by rivals and unknown entities, she found herself more than a little uneased, though she was determined not to reveal her disquiet state of being to any she did not trust completely. So far, the only person she could say she entirely trusted in this room was Rene, and Rene was otherwise occupied.
She might have included Alexandros in that statement, but Alexandros was behaving most peculiarly this evening. He had engaged a girl in conversation, despite paying such fervent attention to Kaia only the previous day. This, to Ophelia, seemed utterly respectful. Furthermore, the girl appeared uneased by his flattery. She had not raised a cry, but her eyes lacked the warmth with which Ophelia had met his gaze the previous day, and she seemed to lack Kaia’s mirth and Rene’s coyness. This girl’s brand of shyness seemed to come from a genuine wish to banish the Captain from her presence, and Ophelia wondered why he did not heed it. DId he need to be told explicitly that his advances were not welcome? How far would he go in his pursuit of this poor girl? Would he continue to embarrass her, and himself, with this foolishness?
‘Thea!’ Mihail’s explanation drew her attention, causing her emerald eyes to snap in his direction. The corners of her lips lifted instinctively into the smallest of smiles. ‘We should not mock the less fortunate. Some of us do not have the privilege of fine tutors to teach us the etiquette of not inserting ourselves in the conversations of others.’ As he spoke, that smile twisted once more into something sinister. So, it is to be that way with all of them, is it? she silently seethed, fixing a piercing glare on Mihail, who she determined nevermore to address as Mimi, or Princess, or anything beyond Lord Mihail of Thanasi, the most formal of titles. Spite curled within her as she envisioned a pair of strong hands gripping him tightly, mercilessly hacking at his prized tresses until they were cropped in the traditional style of a Colchan male, tearing the adornments from his hair and bending them until they broke. The faceless figure continued his tirade, gripping Mihail’s face so tightly that the youth’s jaw almost splintered as he savagely scrubbed every iota of paint from his alabaster face, then tore from him the glorious of wispy fabric and cast it into the flames.
She blinked, partially disgusted by the violence of her imaginings, but unable to feel remorse. For years she had admired this breathtaking creature from the shadows, and now -- finally -- it seemed she understood him. It had taken all these years, and an encounter with two of his other other siblings, for the fog of delusion to lift. He was no Uncrowned Princess, he was a mere Lord living in a world of make-believe. When his Father learned of his son’s indiscretions, he would put an end to them, as all fathers did. Mimi would be a mere memory, a name no man or woman would ever dare to speak for fear of arousing the anger of the great Thanasi patriarch, and she would -- in time -- come to think herself foolish for ever admiring the effeminate Thanasi.
True, Mihail was brave, but he was no champion of the people; he was not a crusader for the rights of those who wished to live in a unique manner as he had been privileged to do. He was just as cruel as his siblings. It mattered not that he was an expert archer, it mattered not that he was one of the best dressed nobles in Greece. She no longer sought his friendship.
His gaze was fixed upon her, dark and filled with brotherly protection. She levelled a cool stare back at him, her lips pursed in a thin line. ‘Thank you for the pretty bangles, Net,’ he said, turning such a sweet smile on his sister that it churned her stomach. “I thought you had a much better sense of fashion than your sister, Mihail,” Ophelia narrowed her eyes as she looked between the siblings. “I suppose I was wrong. And if you do have these wonderful teachers of etiquette as you so claim, then they are terribly remiss, for they seem to have neglected to teach your sister that offending a guest might lead to some irritation on their part,” she kept her voice low, but once more pronounced every syllable with perfect elocution, so that Thea might take a lesson or two. Having explained the reason for her displeasure, she sat straight-backed in her chair to see what would happen next.
Mihail was suddenly very close to her, his warm breath tickling her ear. She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to relax. He would notice if her muscles were tensed, so she gave the instruction for her muscles to loosen, and miraculously they did. ‘If you ever speak ill of my sisters again, I can personally assure you that it shall be the last time,’ he hissed, moving away with a smile that made her want to personally rip every tooth from his mouth. “I am not afraid of you,” she managed to whisper, just loud enough for the Thanasi boy to hear. The words were simple, but she injected as much venom as she possibly could into that one short statement.
‘It is really is quite unfortunate that respect for your betters did not factor into any of your lessons, Lady Ophelia. Especially when you appear so well-versed in all other vital matters of court. Whatever would we do without yet another noble lady who can sing and simper and nothing much else?’ Mihail slid into the seat beside her, his tone positively dripping sweetness, his words a stark contrast. Ophelia raised a dark brow, returning his saccharine smile. “Betters? Why, you are very much mistaken, Lord Thanasi. I believe if we were to compare our houses, you would find us on equal footing,” she replied, her tone perfectly pleasant. “Show me the proof that House Thanasi stands above House Condos in station and I shall gladly call you my better, until that day, I shall call you equal, for neither of us wears the crown. We are all bound to our sovereigns, are we not?”
She tried, oh how she tried to hide her condition from the Thanasi. What precisely her condition was, she could not say, she only knew that it could not be revealed. Not now, not here, not like this. But she was surrounded by snakes, and though she tried her best to lean away from them all, she knew instinctively that Mihail had been the one to discover her. Her eyes widened instantly, a pleading, desperate look filling her emerald orbs as they locked with his. She prayed that he would keep his silence, but she knew that this was too much to hope for. Why should he cover for her when he cared for her not? Any friendship they had shared had been merely a delusion on her part. He had never even liked her, and this realization was all the more terrifying now that she realized that he was to be her undoing.
Or was he? If she remained calm, she could still salvage the situation. After all, she knew not what was wrong with her, so she highly doubted Mihail did. He was no doctor, and she doubted he would want to cause a scene in which he was not the centre of attention. That was simply not his way -- or was it? She had no idea. She had thought she had known him, but she had been wrong. What else had she been wrong about? WHo elsehad she been wrong about? Alexandros? Judging by what she had seen tonight, maybe so, and that was even worse.
‘I did not realize they were letting in any old street lepers,’ the Thanasi muttered, making a point of shifting seats so that he was now one away from her. He had even had the audacity to stand. He had actually stood up for the purpose of moving only one seat along. The seat he now occupied was the intended place of Princess Emilia, and Ophelia dearly hoped the girl would show up to point out the impoliteness of claiming another’s place. Yet, if she did, would Mihail tell her why he had done so? And if he did, would Emilia defend her, or side with him? Her instinct -- or rather hope -- was to believe that Emilia would leap to her defense, for she was a mutual friend of Rene. Rene was at the party too, and surely Emilia would not wish to distress her in the artisan’s presence. At the same time, this was a delicate subject.
No. No it was not. It was none of Emilia’s business, nor Mihail’s. She had a slight sore throat, that was all. By morning it would clear, and all would be well. She would be well, and Mihail would be made to look a fool. He was behaving like a fool: a ridiculous child. Hardly surprising, given the molly-coddling of his sister and the absence of his father. Still, she had believed him to be intelligent, so this behaviour was highly disappointing. It seemed that disappointment was to be the flavour of the night.
Forcing a smile, she turned to Mihail and tried to speak in a reassuring voice, keeping her tone as low as she could. She had to speak loud enough for him to hear, but low enough so as not to draw the attention of others. It was a good thing she had mastered pitch and intonation long ago. “Do forgive me if I frightened you, Lord Thanasi; I have a slight sore throat which should be gone by morning, it is nothing to concern yourself over. But please, if you feel more comfortable where you are, by all means keep your distance. I take no offense.”
Breathing a soft sigh, she summoned a serving man to refill her goblet. For him she managed a genuine smile, for he had a kindness in his eyes that she knew instinctively to be true. “The menus shall be passed around shortly,” he informed her, his voice lilting slightly with the combined accents of a traveller. Clearly, he had been to Lands Afar, many of them. “Dinner shall be served soon, Lady Ophelia.” “Thank you for letting me know, Mr…” “Adrius, Your Ladyship.” “Adrius,” she repeated the name, granting him one final smile before he departed.
Goblet halfway to her lips, her eyes fixed on a new arrival in the form of Lord Stelios of Antonis. Handsome, unmarried, and heading this way. Suddenly, the vipers no longer mattered; all that mattered was Lord Stelios. When had he entered the room? She prayed he had not witnessed that ugly incident between her and Mihail. Had he seen the Thanasi move chairs? If so, would he assume it to be merely a gesture of rudeness on Mihail’s part? She hoped so.
She straightened her back, demurely folding her hands in her lap as he settled himself into the chair beside the eldest daughter of their hostess. Had that been a tactical move on Tythra’s part? Had she seated them side by side in hopes that a flame might be lit, a betrothal bargained? She hoped not. And yet they seemed on familiar terms already, for he seemed quite at ease with complementing the young Lady’s beauty.
Stelios was smiling to himself as he looked between her and Mihail, though she could not imagine why. Had he heard what Mihail had said after all? Had the little jest amused him? A coil of irritation tightened around her heart, but she forced herself to take a breath and a small, calming sip from her goblet, before turning her most charming smile upon the Lord. “Lord Stelios, it has long since last we met. You may not remember me, but I have quite the long memory. I am Lady Ophelia of Condos, it a pleasure to renew our acquaintance.”
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The doors were flung open for a tardy guest, and Ophelia raised her emerald eyes to see who it might be. Mihail of Thanasi stood proudly on the threshold, his stormy gaze roving from face to face. She hoped they might alight upon hers, and a smile might grace his delicate features, for to be smiled at by the Uncrowned Princess was a great feat indeed, one she would greatly revel in accomplishing. Hers were not the only pair of eyes to fix upon him, but that was hardly surprising. For one thing, he was late -- though not so late as to be considered insulting to the rest of the gathered assemblage. No, they were undoubtedly staring for the very same reason that she was. Mihail was not a handsome creature, nor was his form that of a hulking, indomitable beast. It was effeminate, beautiful, ravishing.
As was his custom, he was decked in the customary red that cut a fine contrast with his shimmering onyx mane and flawless alabaster complexion. The material was layered, deep vermilion spread beneath scarlet, garnet and the dusty hue of sunset. His thin black himation draped elegantly behind him in what could almost be called a perfect imitation of the Thanasi crest. She had to give credit where credit was due, he truly was a fine representation of the Thanasi dynesteia. Pride in his household reflected in his every word and deed, from the way he dressed to the way he worked each day to improve himself so that he might bring glory to said household through his prodigious skill in archery. She loved her house well, but she was not so dedicated to the dynasty as to identify herself as a Condos and nothing more.
And yet there was more to Mihail, for he was not merely Mihail. He was she. He was Mimi, and Mimi had appeared tonight. Mimi had graced a state dinner with her glorious presence, regardless of the propriety of the situation. A man would have been expected to wear a more masculine chiton, certainly not a layered confection, yet Mimi dared to appear as she saw fit, her head held high with pride. A man would not possess such delicate, voluminous curls to his hair, nor adorn it with delicate serpentine pins, yet Mimi’s ebony tresses flowed with such delightful waves, and the reptilian depictions peaked unapologetically through obsidian strands. His dark eyes were enhanced with kohl, lending them a look as intense as his family’s reputation. As he moved, the jangle of bangles caught her attention, and she noted how very similar they were to his sister’s. Could he have stolen them from her? No, borrowed certainly, or had a similar set crafted for his own. After all, who in their right mind would wish to touch anything she had laid her hands on?
Then again, they were siblings, and now that she thought of it, she could not recall a time when she had ever heard Mihail speak ill of his sister. Then again, her interactions with Mihail had been brief. It was she who had sought him out at all past events, drawn as she was like a moth to a vibrant flame to his feminine persona. His boldness had always left her in awe, for to her it was no small feat to defy convention and metaphorically spit in the faces of those who would dare to set you straight. Mihail was Mimi and Mimi was Mihail; both were Thanasi, both were wondrous, and that seemed to be an end to it. She had no idea if he still received strange looks or disapproving titters. If he did, he took them not to heart, for he had the soul of a Princess and the spirit of a Colchan. In short, that meant that he was very stubborn, and when he wanted something, he got it. He wanted to be Mimi, and so he was.
Ophelia wished it could be that easy for her. She burned for Evanthe, but a public courtship for them would be impossible. No man would marry her if he knew she kept a mistress, especially a female one. It was different for men. They could shamelessly flaunt their mistresses, and it was considered a good thing, a sign of their virility. But should a woman dare to court the one she loved, she was unclean, unworthy, damaged goods. Oh, some would still take her, but she would not fetch as high a pride price, nor as good a match; honour for her would be hard to find. Why marry at all, then? she had often wondered, pondering the question late at night. Deep down, she knew the answer. She adored her family, she worshipped her father, and she would never forgive herself if she failed to bring them honour. Furthermore, a secret, petty part of her yearned to make a better marriage than all those girls who had passed her over, those shining beacons of physical beauty who thought themselves above her. She knew that the Leventi’s would think themselves destined for the greatest matches in Greece, but she would prove them wrong. ‘Ever the bridesmaid, never the bride,’ that was what they whispered in Court about the Condos family when nobody thought she could hear. Elder courtiers cast her pitying looks with each year that passed by unmarked by a betrothed, and as she passed the older matrons at lavish events such as this, she would pretend to be blissfully ignorant as they murmured mournfully to themselves about how the petals of the lovely Condos Rose were soon to wither, for her youth was not eternal. She knew this too, and with each passing day grew more desperate to bind herself in matrimony, though not to a lesser being. She needed someone of import, someone who could make her family proud, provide financial security, and hopefully fulfil many other ambitions.
Perhaps he would be kind to her, value her opinions, give her say in matters of state. Should she marry a politician -- as was her ideal scenario -- she might perhaps be able to influence, from behind the scenes, the passing of laws that would improve the lives of many Grecian citizens. She had big plans for her life, plans that strayed far beyond the confines of siring heirs. Of course, she was more than willing to do her wifely duty, she simply hoped that she might get something in return. Perhaps if she made the right bargain with the right man, the Fates would favour her.
Unfortunately, she seemed to be in a very precious position tonight. With two secrets now weighing upon her -- though one was tucked safely in a goosefeather bed -- and surrounded by rivals and unknown entities, she found herself more than a little uneased, though she was determined not to reveal her disquiet state of being to any she did not trust completely. So far, the only person she could say she entirely trusted in this room was Rene, and Rene was otherwise occupied.
She might have included Alexandros in that statement, but Alexandros was behaving most peculiarly this evening. He had engaged a girl in conversation, despite paying such fervent attention to Kaia only the previous day. This, to Ophelia, seemed utterly respectful. Furthermore, the girl appeared uneased by his flattery. She had not raised a cry, but her eyes lacked the warmth with which Ophelia had met his gaze the previous day, and she seemed to lack Kaia’s mirth and Rene’s coyness. This girl’s brand of shyness seemed to come from a genuine wish to banish the Captain from her presence, and Ophelia wondered why he did not heed it. DId he need to be told explicitly that his advances were not welcome? How far would he go in his pursuit of this poor girl? Would he continue to embarrass her, and himself, with this foolishness?
‘Thea!’ Mihail’s explanation drew her attention, causing her emerald eyes to snap in his direction. The corners of her lips lifted instinctively into the smallest of smiles. ‘We should not mock the less fortunate. Some of us do not have the privilege of fine tutors to teach us the etiquette of not inserting ourselves in the conversations of others.’ As he spoke, that smile twisted once more into something sinister. So, it is to be that way with all of them, is it? she silently seethed, fixing a piercing glare on Mihail, who she determined nevermore to address as Mimi, or Princess, or anything beyond Lord Mihail of Thanasi, the most formal of titles. Spite curled within her as she envisioned a pair of strong hands gripping him tightly, mercilessly hacking at his prized tresses until they were cropped in the traditional style of a Colchan male, tearing the adornments from his hair and bending them until they broke. The faceless figure continued his tirade, gripping Mihail’s face so tightly that the youth’s jaw almost splintered as he savagely scrubbed every iota of paint from his alabaster face, then tore from him the glorious of wispy fabric and cast it into the flames.
She blinked, partially disgusted by the violence of her imaginings, but unable to feel remorse. For years she had admired this breathtaking creature from the shadows, and now -- finally -- it seemed she understood him. It had taken all these years, and an encounter with two of his other other siblings, for the fog of delusion to lift. He was no Uncrowned Princess, he was a mere Lord living in a world of make-believe. When his Father learned of his son’s indiscretions, he would put an end to them, as all fathers did. Mimi would be a mere memory, a name no man or woman would ever dare to speak for fear of arousing the anger of the great Thanasi patriarch, and she would -- in time -- come to think herself foolish for ever admiring the effeminate Thanasi.
True, Mihail was brave, but he was no champion of the people; he was not a crusader for the rights of those who wished to live in a unique manner as he had been privileged to do. He was just as cruel as his siblings. It mattered not that he was an expert archer, it mattered not that he was one of the best dressed nobles in Greece. She no longer sought his friendship.
His gaze was fixed upon her, dark and filled with brotherly protection. She levelled a cool stare back at him, her lips pursed in a thin line. ‘Thank you for the pretty bangles, Net,’ he said, turning such a sweet smile on his sister that it churned her stomach. “I thought you had a much better sense of fashion than your sister, Mihail,” Ophelia narrowed her eyes as she looked between the siblings. “I suppose I was wrong. And if you do have these wonderful teachers of etiquette as you so claim, then they are terribly remiss, for they seem to have neglected to teach your sister that offending a guest might lead to some irritation on their part,” she kept her voice low, but once more pronounced every syllable with perfect elocution, so that Thea might take a lesson or two. Having explained the reason for her displeasure, she sat straight-backed in her chair to see what would happen next.
Mihail was suddenly very close to her, his warm breath tickling her ear. She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to relax. He would notice if her muscles were tensed, so she gave the instruction for her muscles to loosen, and miraculously they did. ‘If you ever speak ill of my sisters again, I can personally assure you that it shall be the last time,’ he hissed, moving away with a smile that made her want to personally rip every tooth from his mouth. “I am not afraid of you,” she managed to whisper, just loud enough for the Thanasi boy to hear. The words were simple, but she injected as much venom as she possibly could into that one short statement.
‘It is really is quite unfortunate that respect for your betters did not factor into any of your lessons, Lady Ophelia. Especially when you appear so well-versed in all other vital matters of court. Whatever would we do without yet another noble lady who can sing and simper and nothing much else?’ Mihail slid into the seat beside her, his tone positively dripping sweetness, his words a stark contrast. Ophelia raised a dark brow, returning his saccharine smile. “Betters? Why, you are very much mistaken, Lord Thanasi. I believe if we were to compare our houses, you would find us on equal footing,” she replied, her tone perfectly pleasant. “Show me the proof that House Thanasi stands above House Condos in station and I shall gladly call you my better, until that day, I shall call you equal, for neither of us wears the crown. We are all bound to our sovereigns, are we not?”
She tried, oh how she tried to hide her condition from the Thanasi. What precisely her condition was, she could not say, she only knew that it could not be revealed. Not now, not here, not like this. But she was surrounded by snakes, and though she tried her best to lean away from them all, she knew instinctively that Mihail had been the one to discover her. Her eyes widened instantly, a pleading, desperate look filling her emerald orbs as they locked with his. She prayed that he would keep his silence, but she knew that this was too much to hope for. Why should he cover for her when he cared for her not? Any friendship they had shared had been merely a delusion on her part. He had never even liked her, and this realization was all the more terrifying now that she realized that he was to be her undoing.
Or was he? If she remained calm, she could still salvage the situation. After all, she knew not what was wrong with her, so she highly doubted Mihail did. He was no doctor, and she doubted he would want to cause a scene in which he was not the centre of attention. That was simply not his way -- or was it? She had no idea. She had thought she had known him, but she had been wrong. What else had she been wrong about? WHo elsehad she been wrong about? Alexandros? Judging by what she had seen tonight, maybe so, and that was even worse.
‘I did not realize they were letting in any old street lepers,’ the Thanasi muttered, making a point of shifting seats so that he was now one away from her. He had even had the audacity to stand. He had actually stood up for the purpose of moving only one seat along. The seat he now occupied was the intended place of Princess Emilia, and Ophelia dearly hoped the girl would show up to point out the impoliteness of claiming another’s place. Yet, if she did, would Mihail tell her why he had done so? And if he did, would Emilia defend her, or side with him? Her instinct -- or rather hope -- was to believe that Emilia would leap to her defense, for she was a mutual friend of Rene. Rene was at the party too, and surely Emilia would not wish to distress her in the artisan’s presence. At the same time, this was a delicate subject.
No. No it was not. It was none of Emilia’s business, nor Mihail’s. She had a slight sore throat, that was all. By morning it would clear, and all would be well. She would be well, and Mihail would be made to look a fool. He was behaving like a fool: a ridiculous child. Hardly surprising, given the molly-coddling of his sister and the absence of his father. Still, she had believed him to be intelligent, so this behaviour was highly disappointing. It seemed that disappointment was to be the flavour of the night.
Forcing a smile, she turned to Mihail and tried to speak in a reassuring voice, keeping her tone as low as she could. She had to speak loud enough for him to hear, but low enough so as not to draw the attention of others. It was a good thing she had mastered pitch and intonation long ago. “Do forgive me if I frightened you, Lord Thanasi; I have a slight sore throat which should be gone by morning, it is nothing to concern yourself over. But please, if you feel more comfortable where you are, by all means keep your distance. I take no offense.”
Breathing a soft sigh, she summoned a serving man to refill her goblet. For him she managed a genuine smile, for he had a kindness in his eyes that she knew instinctively to be true. “The menus shall be passed around shortly,” he informed her, his voice lilting slightly with the combined accents of a traveller. Clearly, he had been to Lands Afar, many of them. “Dinner shall be served soon, Lady Ophelia.” “Thank you for letting me know, Mr…” “Adrius, Your Ladyship.” “Adrius,” she repeated the name, granting him one final smile before he departed.
Goblet halfway to her lips, her eyes fixed on a new arrival in the form of Lord Stelios of Antonis. Handsome, unmarried, and heading this way. Suddenly, the vipers no longer mattered; all that mattered was Lord Stelios. When had he entered the room? She prayed he had not witnessed that ugly incident between her and Mihail. Had he seen the Thanasi move chairs? If so, would he assume it to be merely a gesture of rudeness on Mihail’s part? She hoped so.
She straightened her back, demurely folding her hands in her lap as he settled himself into the chair beside the eldest daughter of their hostess. Had that been a tactical move on Tythra’s part? Had she seated them side by side in hopes that a flame might be lit, a betrothal bargained? She hoped not. And yet they seemed on familiar terms already, for he seemed quite at ease with complementing the young Lady’s beauty.
Stelios was smiling to himself as he looked between her and Mihail, though she could not imagine why. Had he heard what Mihail had said after all? Had the little jest amused him? A coil of irritation tightened around her heart, but she forced herself to take a breath and a small, calming sip from her goblet, before turning her most charming smile upon the Lord. “Lord Stelios, it has long since last we met. You may not remember me, but I have quite the long memory. I am Lady Ophelia of Condos, it a pleasure to renew our acquaintance.”
The doors were flung open for a tardy guest, and Ophelia raised her emerald eyes to see who it might be. Mihail of Thanasi stood proudly on the threshold, his stormy gaze roving from face to face. She hoped they might alight upon hers, and a smile might grace his delicate features, for to be smiled at by the Uncrowned Princess was a great feat indeed, one she would greatly revel in accomplishing. Hers were not the only pair of eyes to fix upon him, but that was hardly surprising. For one thing, he was late -- though not so late as to be considered insulting to the rest of the gathered assemblage. No, they were undoubtedly staring for the very same reason that she was. Mihail was not a handsome creature, nor was his form that of a hulking, indomitable beast. It was effeminate, beautiful, ravishing.
As was his custom, he was decked in the customary red that cut a fine contrast with his shimmering onyx mane and flawless alabaster complexion. The material was layered, deep vermilion spread beneath scarlet, garnet and the dusty hue of sunset. His thin black himation draped elegantly behind him in what could almost be called a perfect imitation of the Thanasi crest. She had to give credit where credit was due, he truly was a fine representation of the Thanasi dynesteia. Pride in his household reflected in his every word and deed, from the way he dressed to the way he worked each day to improve himself so that he might bring glory to said household through his prodigious skill in archery. She loved her house well, but she was not so dedicated to the dynasty as to identify herself as a Condos and nothing more.
And yet there was more to Mihail, for he was not merely Mihail. He was she. He was Mimi, and Mimi had appeared tonight. Mimi had graced a state dinner with her glorious presence, regardless of the propriety of the situation. A man would have been expected to wear a more masculine chiton, certainly not a layered confection, yet Mimi dared to appear as she saw fit, her head held high with pride. A man would not possess such delicate, voluminous curls to his hair, nor adorn it with delicate serpentine pins, yet Mimi’s ebony tresses flowed with such delightful waves, and the reptilian depictions peaked unapologetically through obsidian strands. His dark eyes were enhanced with kohl, lending them a look as intense as his family’s reputation. As he moved, the jangle of bangles caught her attention, and she noted how very similar they were to his sister’s. Could he have stolen them from her? No, borrowed certainly, or had a similar set crafted for his own. After all, who in their right mind would wish to touch anything she had laid her hands on?
Then again, they were siblings, and now that she thought of it, she could not recall a time when she had ever heard Mihail speak ill of his sister. Then again, her interactions with Mihail had been brief. It was she who had sought him out at all past events, drawn as she was like a moth to a vibrant flame to his feminine persona. His boldness had always left her in awe, for to her it was no small feat to defy convention and metaphorically spit in the faces of those who would dare to set you straight. Mihail was Mimi and Mimi was Mihail; both were Thanasi, both were wondrous, and that seemed to be an end to it. She had no idea if he still received strange looks or disapproving titters. If he did, he took them not to heart, for he had the soul of a Princess and the spirit of a Colchan. In short, that meant that he was very stubborn, and when he wanted something, he got it. He wanted to be Mimi, and so he was.
Ophelia wished it could be that easy for her. She burned for Evanthe, but a public courtship for them would be impossible. No man would marry her if he knew she kept a mistress, especially a female one. It was different for men. They could shamelessly flaunt their mistresses, and it was considered a good thing, a sign of their virility. But should a woman dare to court the one she loved, she was unclean, unworthy, damaged goods. Oh, some would still take her, but she would not fetch as high a pride price, nor as good a match; honour for her would be hard to find. Why marry at all, then? she had often wondered, pondering the question late at night. Deep down, she knew the answer. She adored her family, she worshipped her father, and she would never forgive herself if she failed to bring them honour. Furthermore, a secret, petty part of her yearned to make a better marriage than all those girls who had passed her over, those shining beacons of physical beauty who thought themselves above her. She knew that the Leventi’s would think themselves destined for the greatest matches in Greece, but she would prove them wrong. ‘Ever the bridesmaid, never the bride,’ that was what they whispered in Court about the Condos family when nobody thought she could hear. Elder courtiers cast her pitying looks with each year that passed by unmarked by a betrothed, and as she passed the older matrons at lavish events such as this, she would pretend to be blissfully ignorant as they murmured mournfully to themselves about how the petals of the lovely Condos Rose were soon to wither, for her youth was not eternal. She knew this too, and with each passing day grew more desperate to bind herself in matrimony, though not to a lesser being. She needed someone of import, someone who could make her family proud, provide financial security, and hopefully fulfil many other ambitions.
Perhaps he would be kind to her, value her opinions, give her say in matters of state. Should she marry a politician -- as was her ideal scenario -- she might perhaps be able to influence, from behind the scenes, the passing of laws that would improve the lives of many Grecian citizens. She had big plans for her life, plans that strayed far beyond the confines of siring heirs. Of course, she was more than willing to do her wifely duty, she simply hoped that she might get something in return. Perhaps if she made the right bargain with the right man, the Fates would favour her.
Unfortunately, she seemed to be in a very precious position tonight. With two secrets now weighing upon her -- though one was tucked safely in a goosefeather bed -- and surrounded by rivals and unknown entities, she found herself more than a little uneased, though she was determined not to reveal her disquiet state of being to any she did not trust completely. So far, the only person she could say she entirely trusted in this room was Rene, and Rene was otherwise occupied.
She might have included Alexandros in that statement, but Alexandros was behaving most peculiarly this evening. He had engaged a girl in conversation, despite paying such fervent attention to Kaia only the previous day. This, to Ophelia, seemed utterly respectful. Furthermore, the girl appeared uneased by his flattery. She had not raised a cry, but her eyes lacked the warmth with which Ophelia had met his gaze the previous day, and she seemed to lack Kaia’s mirth and Rene’s coyness. This girl’s brand of shyness seemed to come from a genuine wish to banish the Captain from her presence, and Ophelia wondered why he did not heed it. DId he need to be told explicitly that his advances were not welcome? How far would he go in his pursuit of this poor girl? Would he continue to embarrass her, and himself, with this foolishness?
‘Thea!’ Mihail’s explanation drew her attention, causing her emerald eyes to snap in his direction. The corners of her lips lifted instinctively into the smallest of smiles. ‘We should not mock the less fortunate. Some of us do not have the privilege of fine tutors to teach us the etiquette of not inserting ourselves in the conversations of others.’ As he spoke, that smile twisted once more into something sinister. So, it is to be that way with all of them, is it? she silently seethed, fixing a piercing glare on Mihail, who she determined nevermore to address as Mimi, or Princess, or anything beyond Lord Mihail of Thanasi, the most formal of titles. Spite curled within her as she envisioned a pair of strong hands gripping him tightly, mercilessly hacking at his prized tresses until they were cropped in the traditional style of a Colchan male, tearing the adornments from his hair and bending them until they broke. The faceless figure continued his tirade, gripping Mihail’s face so tightly that the youth’s jaw almost splintered as he savagely scrubbed every iota of paint from his alabaster face, then tore from him the glorious of wispy fabric and cast it into the flames.
She blinked, partially disgusted by the violence of her imaginings, but unable to feel remorse. For years she had admired this breathtaking creature from the shadows, and now -- finally -- it seemed she understood him. It had taken all these years, and an encounter with two of his other other siblings, for the fog of delusion to lift. He was no Uncrowned Princess, he was a mere Lord living in a world of make-believe. When his Father learned of his son’s indiscretions, he would put an end to them, as all fathers did. Mimi would be a mere memory, a name no man or woman would ever dare to speak for fear of arousing the anger of the great Thanasi patriarch, and she would -- in time -- come to think herself foolish for ever admiring the effeminate Thanasi.
True, Mihail was brave, but he was no champion of the people; he was not a crusader for the rights of those who wished to live in a unique manner as he had been privileged to do. He was just as cruel as his siblings. It mattered not that he was an expert archer, it mattered not that he was one of the best dressed nobles in Greece. She no longer sought his friendship.
His gaze was fixed upon her, dark and filled with brotherly protection. She levelled a cool stare back at him, her lips pursed in a thin line. ‘Thank you for the pretty bangles, Net,’ he said, turning such a sweet smile on his sister that it churned her stomach. “I thought you had a much better sense of fashion than your sister, Mihail,” Ophelia narrowed her eyes as she looked between the siblings. “I suppose I was wrong. And if you do have these wonderful teachers of etiquette as you so claim, then they are terribly remiss, for they seem to have neglected to teach your sister that offending a guest might lead to some irritation on their part,” she kept her voice low, but once more pronounced every syllable with perfect elocution, so that Thea might take a lesson or two. Having explained the reason for her displeasure, she sat straight-backed in her chair to see what would happen next.
Mihail was suddenly very close to her, his warm breath tickling her ear. She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to relax. He would notice if her muscles were tensed, so she gave the instruction for her muscles to loosen, and miraculously they did. ‘If you ever speak ill of my sisters again, I can personally assure you that it shall be the last time,’ he hissed, moving away with a smile that made her want to personally rip every tooth from his mouth. “I am not afraid of you,” she managed to whisper, just loud enough for the Thanasi boy to hear. The words were simple, but she injected as much venom as she possibly could into that one short statement.
‘It is really is quite unfortunate that respect for your betters did not factor into any of your lessons, Lady Ophelia. Especially when you appear so well-versed in all other vital matters of court. Whatever would we do without yet another noble lady who can sing and simper and nothing much else?’ Mihail slid into the seat beside her, his tone positively dripping sweetness, his words a stark contrast. Ophelia raised a dark brow, returning his saccharine smile. “Betters? Why, you are very much mistaken, Lord Thanasi. I believe if we were to compare our houses, you would find us on equal footing,” she replied, her tone perfectly pleasant. “Show me the proof that House Thanasi stands above House Condos in station and I shall gladly call you my better, until that day, I shall call you equal, for neither of us wears the crown. We are all bound to our sovereigns, are we not?”
She tried, oh how she tried to hide her condition from the Thanasi. What precisely her condition was, she could not say, she only knew that it could not be revealed. Not now, not here, not like this. But she was surrounded by snakes, and though she tried her best to lean away from them all, she knew instinctively that Mihail had been the one to discover her. Her eyes widened instantly, a pleading, desperate look filling her emerald orbs as they locked with his. She prayed that he would keep his silence, but she knew that this was too much to hope for. Why should he cover for her when he cared for her not? Any friendship they had shared had been merely a delusion on her part. He had never even liked her, and this realization was all the more terrifying now that she realized that he was to be her undoing.
Or was he? If she remained calm, she could still salvage the situation. After all, she knew not what was wrong with her, so she highly doubted Mihail did. He was no doctor, and she doubted he would want to cause a scene in which he was not the centre of attention. That was simply not his way -- or was it? She had no idea. She had thought she had known him, but she had been wrong. What else had she been wrong about? WHo elsehad she been wrong about? Alexandros? Judging by what she had seen tonight, maybe so, and that was even worse.
‘I did not realize they were letting in any old street lepers,’ the Thanasi muttered, making a point of shifting seats so that he was now one away from her. He had even had the audacity to stand. He had actually stood up for the purpose of moving only one seat along. The seat he now occupied was the intended place of Princess Emilia, and Ophelia dearly hoped the girl would show up to point out the impoliteness of claiming another’s place. Yet, if she did, would Mihail tell her why he had done so? And if he did, would Emilia defend her, or side with him? Her instinct -- or rather hope -- was to believe that Emilia would leap to her defense, for she was a mutual friend of Rene. Rene was at the party too, and surely Emilia would not wish to distress her in the artisan’s presence. At the same time, this was a delicate subject.
No. No it was not. It was none of Emilia’s business, nor Mihail’s. She had a slight sore throat, that was all. By morning it would clear, and all would be well. She would be well, and Mihail would be made to look a fool. He was behaving like a fool: a ridiculous child. Hardly surprising, given the molly-coddling of his sister and the absence of his father. Still, she had believed him to be intelligent, so this behaviour was highly disappointing. It seemed that disappointment was to be the flavour of the night.
Forcing a smile, she turned to Mihail and tried to speak in a reassuring voice, keeping her tone as low as she could. She had to speak loud enough for him to hear, but low enough so as not to draw the attention of others. It was a good thing she had mastered pitch and intonation long ago. “Do forgive me if I frightened you, Lord Thanasi; I have a slight sore throat which should be gone by morning, it is nothing to concern yourself over. But please, if you feel more comfortable where you are, by all means keep your distance. I take no offense.”
Breathing a soft sigh, she summoned a serving man to refill her goblet. For him she managed a genuine smile, for he had a kindness in his eyes that she knew instinctively to be true. “The menus shall be passed around shortly,” he informed her, his voice lilting slightly with the combined accents of a traveller. Clearly, he had been to Lands Afar, many of them. “Dinner shall be served soon, Lady Ophelia.” “Thank you for letting me know, Mr…” “Adrius, Your Ladyship.” “Adrius,” she repeated the name, granting him one final smile before he departed.
Goblet halfway to her lips, her eyes fixed on a new arrival in the form of Lord Stelios of Antonis. Handsome, unmarried, and heading this way. Suddenly, the vipers no longer mattered; all that mattered was Lord Stelios. When had he entered the room? She prayed he had not witnessed that ugly incident between her and Mihail. Had he seen the Thanasi move chairs? If so, would he assume it to be merely a gesture of rudeness on Mihail’s part? She hoped so.
She straightened her back, demurely folding her hands in her lap as he settled himself into the chair beside the eldest daughter of their hostess. Had that been a tactical move on Tythra’s part? Had she seated them side by side in hopes that a flame might be lit, a betrothal bargained? She hoped not. And yet they seemed on familiar terms already, for he seemed quite at ease with complementing the young Lady’s beauty.
Stelios was smiling to himself as he looked between her and Mihail, though she could not imagine why. Had he heard what Mihail had said after all? Had the little jest amused him? A coil of irritation tightened around her heart, but she forced herself to take a breath and a small, calming sip from her goblet, before turning her most charming smile upon the Lord. “Lord Stelios, it has long since last we met. You may not remember me, but I have quite the long memory. I am Lady Ophelia of Condos, it a pleasure to renew our acquaintance.”