“Your medal, Captain.”

He matched her smirk with one of his own as she took off a pendant and passed it across the table. He picked up the prize and inclined his head towards the young lady. "Thank you, Lady Essa. I am honored to receive this distinguished award." He looked back up to meet her eyes with a smile as he spoke.

“It is too bad I missed the action, but surely a man of the military would know better? Only fools rush in where angels fear to tread, Alexandros. This landscape is navigated no differently than any other you intend to do battle upon; by ascertaining the layout, the high grounds, adequate cover, potential points of ambush….These wars may be different than those to which you are accustomed to fighting, but they are not without their roots in basic strategy. You seem a clever man. Let not your pride overshadow your intelligence.”

Alexandros frowned as she spoke. The comparison was easy enough to make, and the dangers of both types of war were obvious enough. While she does make sense, I do not have the fortune of her standing in the court. I have to defend myself, my name, and my honor regardless of the terrain and conditions that I find myself in. I would much prefer to play this game as an equal, but, for the moment at least, that is not the case. His expression returned to a more neutral state before he spoke. "I'm afraid that my position requires a defense of my name and my honor wherever they are slighted. I do not have the luxury of familial backing to defend myself. However, if you have lesson about this type of combat to teach, then I would be happy to listen."

“Who raised you? Your father or mother?”

Ah, good, she did catch it. He smiled as he began to respond. "Good, I'm glad you caught that singular tense. My mother died when I was 8, and my father raised me after that. I came to Colchis then, actually. He was a mercenary, commanded his own company, sometime in his past he was an officer. He raised me to be an exceptional warrior, and I think that he would be proud could he see where I am today. I would ask about you and your mother, but I have heard your disdain for her, so I will not push."

“If only,” Essa ruminated. “Perhaps in that regard, they are superior. Theirs is a civilization without the doldrums of bureaucracy, isn’t it. If something requires action, it is acted upon, maybe after discussion by a council of elders or something. No senate votes, no squabbles. There is some appeal to a more simplistic approach, than that which we choose to gum up with our own trappings.”

The young warrior smiled broadly at her words. "I am inclined to agree. A society in which one's abilities are what determine your place, where action is taken rather than talking, seems to have some advantages over our own. I doubt that such complicated trade and peace agreements could be arranged or maintained without our bureaucracy, so there are some advantages to our way of life, even if our reactions are delayed due to needless talking and arguing."

“Your assessment is not inaccurate. In any count. I do not like to be watched, and I take leave from it as much as I can. Though it is far easier to do for me than it is for my sister, as she is primary. Her presence is always required. Left to my own devices largely, I enjoy other activities than standing at attention with a tight face and an even tighter backside,”

Alexandros laughed lightly and smiled at her words. "I have yet to meet anyone that enjoys having their every move watched and judged, I most certainly do not. Although perhaps we should feel some sympathy for your sister who must endure this at all time, no? As for what activities you enjoy, well, your face is certainly more pleasant when a smile or a smirk graces it than when your lips are pursed, but a tight backside can be enjoyable, with the right partner." His lips curled into a teasing smirk as he finished speaking. Well, let's hope her playful nature continues. Offending another royal lady would probably not be for the best this night.

“My my……Captain….. I meant no offense. It is merely an alternate form of address, You provided your name, and also made the effort to provide your rank. I assumed, apparently incorrectly, that you offered both as acceptable forms of greeting and discourse. If you preferred I address you in a more informal vein, that was all you had to say, Unwittingly, you have exposed a great weakness in yourself, and one that saw fit to sour your mood in its entirety, something that could be used against you. Such an inflammatory button is best not offered to thine enemy, Alexandros. Alex.”

Alexandros frowned as the fire behind his icy eyes died. Fuck, I had not meant to snap at her like that. That bastard still seems to be affecting my thoughts. Someday I'll pay him back for that, somehow. "I apologize, Essa, I had not meant to snap at you. Events earlier in the evening seem to still be lingering in my thoughts. It appears that a nerve was touched by that bald bastard, but it should not have been taken out upon you. I hope that you can forgive me."

“You are not making jest of this?”

"I never joke about my work, Essa. If you wish to learn how to use the sword and how to effectively defend yourself, then I shall teach you. I will give you the knowledge my father imparted to me that has helped me continue to survive in this dangerous world. All you need do is say yes and tell me when you wish to begin." Alexandros said seriously.

Alexandros accepted her pendant graciously, or at least pretending to be so. Though, she found him believable in that regard, unpretentious, if only a little less than those around her. As he looked it over and thanked her, she quietly added a crucial fact about it. “I implore you to take care of it. It belonged to my father.” Essa’s youthful and creamy complexion, trellised with dark locks was dead serious, fully conveying the meaning and importance of the gift. The captain’s expression was jovial for a moment before draining into one sporting more of an edge to it before recovering, and Essa could tell he was working to keep his words civil.

‘I'm afraid that my position requires a defense of my name and my honor wherever they are slighted. I do not have the luxury of familial backing to defend myself. However, if you have lesson about this type of combat to teach, then I would be happy to listen.’

Essa stared at him for a handful of heartbeats, half tempted to shake her head. She could both understand, and not, why this man had risen to the rank he had. Brave, yet hotheaded. “Alex, I admit I’m surprised that this seems a foreign concept to you, especially for a soldier. But you of all people know that sometimes, you can’t save your face and your ass at the same time. Sometimes, you gotta pick. And if you insist upon always choosing face, which is within your right to do, then surely you accept that may come at the most final of costs,” she spoke after taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “As for others having your back, well, trust and respect is dispensed the way it is in battle…...being earned first. Your humble origins make your unique situation all the more challenging, and in that regard, you are absolutely correct. Whether you like it or not, whether it’s fair or not, you will always possess a social gap among these people. But you don’t have to let it dictate your actions. Your pride is admirable. It truly is. Learning how to play the game here does not mean that pride must be sacrificed. Surely you are a clever man. Figure out a way to manage both.”

Alexandros was quite the open book, outwardly revealing with no subterfuge. That made him predictable, but not in a light that would benefit him, a social climber, an interloper hellbent on ramming his way through the ranks of blue bloods and demanding they notice him. Such a mentality was a perilous one, and would see the most certain premature end to his career. Either he would learn, or he wouldn’t. He seemed to be faring decently, unless one counted sporting a lip shiner at a high end dinner party, that he’d accumulated, while attending said dinner party. Fortunately, it seemed his resilience was in peak form, with nary a bruise to his monstrous ego.

‘I have yet to meet anyone that enjoys having their every move watched and judged, I most certainly do not. Although perhaps we should feel some sympathy for your sister who must endure this at all time, no? As for what activities you enjoy, well, your face is certainly more pleasant when a smile or a smirk graces it than when your lips are pursed, but a tight backside can be enjoyable, with the right partner.’

Essa’s large brown eyes blinked, working to process what he meant. The gears were visible turning behind those chocolate pools, head canting just so, considering the implications of his words. As if a slow dawning came over her, her nose crinkled slightly, eyes narrowing. “You mean…. wait...what….” She was almost disgusted, but ...not entirely, as if intrigue and confusion were mucking up her ability to be solely horrified. “You mean you…..” At that point, one corner of her mouth twitched. How… .unhygienic….. “You mean you put …..” She started to shudder. “Don’t you get diseases??” She recoiled in her chair slightly, as if suddenly looking him over for any sign of lesions or something she’d not previously noticed. He seemed okay… .Alex sure was…..open...and……. adventurous...yes...adventurous...that was a good word for it. Her facade flashed profound confusion. “So…..the tighter the backside, the more right the partner?” She asked, sorting this out in her mind. “I mean…. do you to like... test it first?”

Dionysios lifted his goblet and held it aloft for a passing servant to fill. He did not have the stomach for more than a cup at most these days, but he could indulge a bit tonight given how monstrously droll this would turn out to be due to his immediate company.

As the rich liquid splashed into his cup, Dionysios surveyed his surroundings with care. He saw no new faces amongst the nobility, much to his displeasure. Nothing was more profitable than ignorance and naivety, nor more satisfying to spoil. Colchis was a small kingdom, true, but they would become a brittle one to boot if they did not refresh the faces within the senate or make strides for progress in company.

And this was why invading foreign property was so lucrative and, it seemed sometimes, necessary. They needed more land, more barons, more military leaders. If the Gods saw fit, Dionysios might live a few years longer and if that be the case, organizing a military campaign to gain lands to the north would be his next project. They had relied on Athenia and Taengea for foodstuffs for far too long.

The sip he took thereafter was a sample that exploded along his tongue like flame to flour in its heady notes. It was satisfactory given it was a Kotas selection.

Dionysios turned to the second eldest, home from his years-long campaign just in time to be led to the slaughter like the rest of the sows and ewes. The appropriate greetings were exchanged and outside of that, he did not truly expect much more than a series of chuffs and huffs from the princeling. Imagine his astonishment when the boy performed more to the tune of an intelligent man than a lumbering beast.

"Oh, thank you, Lord Dionysios, for your recognition. The Persians were certainly a menacing foe. We had no idea how deeply entrenched they were until we had to beat them back across the sea.”

Dionysios reached forth and began the work of plucking his chosen morsels from the plates and bowls lain as offerings before the altar of Grecian nobility. The finely-cut fruit would give him excess bowel irritation until tomorrow’s eve, so he abducted a large serving of fresh olives and delicate cheeses instead.

“Of course, the Persians,” Dionysios said. Once his plate was sufficiently decorated with his selection, he took another sip of wine and arranged each category of food precisely apart from each other so the flavors did not join and tangle unnecessarily.

“Loathe as a man is to admit his weaknesses, your highness, I’ve no doubt you’ve heard whispers of my poor memory. You will forgive an old man the mis-recalled details of discussions and knowledge he once grasped.”

Dionysios had been quite hoping the unsoundness of his mind would not make its troubles tonight. When they occurred—rather less frequently than he had others believe—they had the strangest habit of visiting after the death of daylight. Though such an infliction gave Dionysios ample opportunity to get away with as much mischief as he liked, it was rather inconvenient when they appeared in truth.

It was a strange experience. As if he’d lived an entirely separate reality to the current, only some details differing from the other realm he’d lived—the placement of a chair upon the south wall rather than the north. The name of the master snake handler. The enemy the prince had campaigned against. Small things, but irritating all the same.

It was no matter. All mistakes and all inconveniences could be twisted and distorted to serve a purpose, regardless of how seemingly insignificant they were. Because what Dionysios did very much know, and very much did remember, was that the prince would be going North soon whether he had been there before or not.

“Let us pray I am not prognostic, and that you are home for good. Colchis is stronger with her sons at the hearth.”

His eyes flicked to the Athenian princess to his right and he studied the delicate woman. Dignified and certainly royal. Had he been a few decades younger, he might have tried his hand at charming the docile creature to better bend her preference over that of the other Colchian barons. It befitted a house to negotiate private trade agreements with foreign states in the event that such states might retract their government contracts. And one never knew who would sit the Athenian throne next.

As it stood, he was far too rich and focused on his own kingdom to worry overmuch about international favors and nepotism aside from the agreements currently in effect. He would let his children cluck over such matters, for his was a duty that had a near end.

As for Prince Yiannis, he’d proved himself to be a surprising cut above the rest of his simpleton siblings in his response. Perhaps this one could think past the goblet of wine and plate of food before him. How very un-bearlike of him.

Dionysios continued to enjoy his wine and sustenance, listening with half an ear to the conversations buzzing about. It was, unfortunately, all perfectly dull. The company was polite and quiet enough, which Dionysios much preferred, but the content of their discussions were so vapid they threatened to insult his sensibilities.

Everything was much too gentle. No barbed insults or subtle threats. No talks of reform or rebellion. No news of international efforts. No mention of new artists or great minds, no cultural impressions. Nobody around who looked like a particularly promising puppet. Was this truly the state of Greece?

Dionysios thought this peace only a temporary state of being, a faux shroud driven by necessity...but perhaps all three kingdoms truly were in perfect accord and friendship. Like a stilted pond, no profits nor acquisitions to be had, no attempts at anything other than pleasant smiles and how do’s. As if not a single one of them had a nefarious thought floating about in their empty heads.

It was not that Dionysios was against such pleasantries. Quite the contrary. Nothing was more off-putting than a stray and careless tongue. It was the simple state of true virtue and static that disgusted him. Not one of these ewes knew anything but kindness, and so they fashioned their nations to mirror their ideals and yet never bothered to observe whether its citizens fit such values.

Where was the peace for the unwashed children, the subjugated, the men and women locked inside of their opium dens and cages of escape? Damn a peace treaty, what about the people of Colchis who needed war to survive and thrive? All this money thrown at other nations to improve upon trade and relations—and yet no regard for the people that this great nation stood upon.

Colchis was only as strong as her children. Dirty, hungry, and uneducated, should the Kotas choose to cease peering up at sun, they might realize that the money of the state was better spent upon building a Colchian academy, launching invasions into the mainland to grasp fertile soil, building a navy, ensuring that the houses and the barons were united and in accord to present the world’s strongest deterrence.

Instead, they dined.

Greece, the seat of civilization. Colchis, the indomitable land of iron. Reduced to...this. Had their Gods abandoned them? Would they forever stay so despicably indistinguishable to the Greece of a hundred years past? Hades wept at such atrocities, Dionysios knew. As did the Thanasi coffers.

After some time of quietly listening and nibbling upon his food, a gradual and chronic din swallowed the vaulted room and created an almost soothing atmosphere of continuous sound not unlike a steady rain. Unfortunately, such a rolling din could not last forever.

A strange man took a seat some distance away, his lip split yet his expression easy. The only new face at either table. Dionysios popped an olive in his mouth and observed the young man for a few moments to assess his carriage and dress. Without hearing him speak, however, Dionysios could not be certain of his rank or manner. He could guess, and it would likely be an accurate one, but objective observation without use of a preliminary hypothesis was far more conductive than developing a speculative thesis based upon diminutive details beforehand.

He could assume the man a high-ranking officer from his musculature, but he could very well be a new Athenian noble or a newly acknowledged Taengean bastard for all Dionysios knew. For now, he was a man with a wound upon his mouth, and that was all.

Minutes later, Dionysios became the unhappy neighbor of the youngest Drakos. It had been a relieving sight to see that she did not occupy her seat when he arrived—assuming her absence would carry on through the night was too lucky a coincidence to occur, he supposed. Of course, he’d never spoken with the girl, for she was only twelve or thirteen when he became ill, but he firmly disliked the anything that had been spilled or ejected from The Cunt's barbed womb.

Then again, Dionysios did not remember a time when he enjoyed a person outside of his kin by default, child, Kotas, Drakos, or otherwise. There were, however, times when he could tolerate another human’s company and call them adequate, if not slightly above par. The path to holding such a regard began at distaste, ascended through curiosity, and plateaued at respect. Rare was the human whose character was exceptional enough to be genuinely desired for company.

The Brat began to speak almost as soon as she arrived, having been greeted by the strange man. As more words tumbled from her mouth, the clearer her uniformity to her ursine kin became. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to listen to her conversation, for it was far more voluminous than any others surrounding him. He would have no qualms if something of substance spewed forth rather than juvenile banter. Something interesting, perhaps, enlightening, or entertaining should all else fail. Alas, nothing of the sort occurred.

Yet another product of the privileged royal class that Dionysios fought so long and hard to enter. Noble women were perhaps the most irritating creatures within society. Most of them were kept as children or beloved birds within a cage. They did not war, they did not attend council, they did not attempt to fight to ascend their pits. They sang and spoke and not much else.

Without a single need to spill blood or compromise their morals, women of such ethically revered royal houses were not worth the adoration and praise they received for simply existing.

Such confidence for this little girl to speak so easily with a man as if she were a peer to a captain of the Colchian military. She was assured in her power and security. Death and maiming were possibilities so far removed from her world that she did not realize how utterly insignificant she was according to the laws of nature. This construct of theirs, this society, allowed an ignorant child more consideration than those who bled for it. Disgusting.

At least she spoke at all, which could not be said of the Athenian princess. Dionysios could not very well harvest information from a silent subject. It seemed that Omiros’ insidious seed dissolved upon the making of the current king, who had been a drunken buffoon that, ironically, failed to produce a single son for his line despite plundering any hole he could from a young age.

Yet his daughter sat as still and silent as stone. Curious.

Curious still was the sudden dissolution of the Drakos girl’s banter in favor of something more weighty...and directed at the captain. From the split upon his lip and the things he had said thus far, it was clear the young man was a different breed than the usual court fodder. Common born, most certainly, and unschooled in the ways of the powerful, and The Brat was offering him a remedy for his ignorance. Her assertions were not incorrect. A level-headed Drakos. Perhaps she was more bearable than her kin after all, if only marginally.

There was potential in the captain, for he was certainly quite young. To be under thirty and serving with the crown prince as captain meant that he was incredibly skilled in the art of killing. Dionysios could use a man like that in the coming months. It certainly wouldn't be beneficial to allow his target to keep the man employed.

Yes...he had potential. For what yet, Dionysios did not know, but the young man had his attention by virtue of rising above his status to take a most coveted position despite his age. Dionysios always made a point to collect exceptional men and women, for a handful of them were worth two dozen of their plain kin.

Dionysios stopped chewing, tossed from his musings, when the captain made an unsubtle, unveiled remark about anal sex. Here was an interesting, vulgar development. Suddenly, the path to cutting him from the Kotas became quite clear. Should the man continue to act as he was acting, he would not be in noble company for long. At least under Vangelis, which meant that he would be looking for employment elsewhere. He would be easy enough to influence and bend—arrogance formed the thickest of chains, after all.

It was, however, only a small idea. A 'what if' that was more hypothetical musing than true desire.

The comment itself was quite amusing. Dionysios wondered who would get scandalized first—the virginal and ignorant noble women, or the men who assumed they were natural strangers to perversion and violence and so shielded them from becoming anything more or less than naive children awaiting the creature in the dark.

The Brat was proving herself to be a most excellent example of this folly in her infantile understanding of such elementary subjects.

As for himself, he was not particularly taken aback by the subject matter. He'd experienced far more offensive vulgarities. Dionysios respected his late mother in her attempts to suffer through her isolation and ostracization, but she was ultimately weak in the end. Not two years past Dionysios’ birth, she flung herself from a Colchian cliff and left him to his fate. Left him to the whims of people who had not a care for a once-noble child.

It was said that Dionysios was incredibly fortunate when the new baron—unmarried and without any children or extended family—allowed him to remain as ward and heir. What they failed to add was that when individuals in power did not care for the wellbeing of those who relied upon them, perversion and cruelty blossomed like weeds beneath bushels of beautiful blooms.

As the captain had so astutely observed, he had not the title to act as a safety net. Dionysios, however, did. And it was thanks to his own will. No brave Kotas king came to save Dionysios from the twisted and thorny vines of the noble garden, and so he saved himself.

He'd earned his place, his money, his longevity, his right to speak as he wished. No longer a baron climbing rank, there was no reason Dionysios could not discuss whatever he liked, and if what he liked happened to be vulgar in nature...well, he was just a mad old man, and chaos was the most elegant form of comedy.

It always baffled him how utterly ignorant the nobility kept their daughters. He did not, of course, and that was why his house had not been scandalized with any unwed pregnancies or torrent affairs. If The Cunt had done her duty as a woman to her newly budded brat, she would never have to worry about the whelp's innocence to begin with. Arm a child with the knowledge they needed, and oft they made the correct decisions. And if not, then it was best they remove themselves from the breeding pool to begin with.

It was when they discovered knowledge too late that they turned into panting dogs. No doubt the eldest lizard was equally as uninformed—Dionysios would not be surprised if she fell pregnant due to such naivety.

However, he would be remiss if he did not share wisdom with the youngest one. If she began bending over as a result, well, it would not be his fault.

“Indeed,” Dionysios said, finally swallowing the food in his mouth. He threaded his fingers together and rested his elbows upon the table, leveling The Brat with an icy stare that demanded her absolute attention. “You would get as many diseases in any other orifice depending upon the chosen partner. If they be without disease, so too shall you. If they are unclean, the thing between your legs will find fester just as quickly. If you are referring to a different sort of ‘disease,’ a saltwater solution for purgation is recommended. You may as well know of it now; if the gods see fit to bless you with a long life, you’ll be coerced into having them once a fortnight.”

He quirked an eyebrow and glanced at her male cousins, the quickest flicker of a glance, considering them and then dismissing them just as quickly. “For centuries, it has been one of the many ways noble girls have taken advantage of Aphrodite's offerings without compromising their maidenhead or begetting an accidental whelp. Those who remain ignorant of such things are the ones who usually find themselves entangled in scandal when curiosity becomes too strong to resist.”

Pausing to take a sip of wine, Dionysios considered the matter at hand and decided that, yes, he would like to see The Cunt turn red. “I have a text upon the subject if you are interested. I will have one of my slaves deliver it to your house. The Orientals have written several thorough manuals upon the subject. Though it's preferable to control base urges, most people either cannot or do not. Being selective and informed is far better than being unmarried, pregnant, diseased, and wondering how it happened.”

Straight to the point and only offering the facts as they were to anyone with sense, his answer was dry and without innuendo as if imparting an observation of the weather. He waved off the subject with a flick of his wrist, as if it was settled in its entirety. And it was. Regardless of any sputtering or outrage, Dionysios had made his will known, and so it would be. What was not known was the motivation behind such comments.

Turning his eye now to the commoner further down the table, he addressed the man who so thoroughly stepped upon every known propriety. “Captain Alexandros, aside from the more carnal aspects, what constitutes the ‘right’ partner?”

He was offering the captain a chance to quickly rise above his comment lest one of the nobles take offence at his easy tongue. Dionysios did not often offer such things, but his fledgling interest in the captain dictated the man not immediately hang himself on his own folly.

The question was whether he took it. In either case, Dionysios would benefit, either in entertainment or in a possible addition to his man-power should he choose to actively engage the captain in a most insidious and prudent manner—if the captain proved worth the time at all.

Upon Essa's entry, Yiannis wanted to spring up and wrap his arms around her, glad that she was well enough to make it. However, she appeared to be in a sour mood, so he settled for affectionately squeezing her hand. He hardly had the opportunity to greet her before she tossed back her goblet. The one who'd made an ass of himself apparently hadn't learned anything, already speaking out of turn. However, she proved herself to be the spitfire she always was, and he only chuckled as he decided to let the exchange play out.

He couldn't help the mischevous laugh that escaped him when she compared her own mother to Medusa. It was a horrible thing to say, but as always he would keep her secrets. They'd had plenty between one another, not the least of which was the mystery of where Tythra's favorite set of jewelry had ended up- sold for a rather handsome sum and replaced with a lookalike that would tarnish and rust. She had it coming after sleighting her own daughter at a dinner much like this one.

He raised an eyebrow at the idea of Alexandros taking her under his wing, but as with many courses of action, he wouldn't stand in her way- a wise decision, as she countered him by pointing out what everyone knew. Peace was a fragile thing, and it would only take one indignation too many suffered by either his own family or another to break it. He gave her the most taciturn communication, letting her catch his smirk as he approved of her saying what everyone else was thinking. He couldn't be more proud of her, especially as she told a soldier of his weakness to his face. She truly embodied the dragon of her sigil, an unbridled spirit that could not be contained. He had last seen her as a girl of eleven, but now she had truly blossomed, and it was clear that she would take no prisoners. "I envy you," he whispered, perhaps not loud enough to be heard.

However, when the subject of backsides came up, he felt it was his duty to intervene. "Ah, Essa, my dear, perhaps it is best to ignore Alexandros now. He's gotten rather deep in his cups," he said, attempting to prevent this faux pas from progressing any further. By the Gods, if that man pushed her curiosity any further... He nearly flushed at the idea of having to explain it to her himself. Thankfully, Dionysius addressed him again at that exact moment. "Of course, the Persians. Loathe as a man is to admit his weaknesses, your highness, I’ve no doubt you’ve heard whispers of my poor memory. You will forgive an old man the mis-recalled details of discussions and knowledge he once grasped."

"Think nothing of it," Yiannis replied with a dismissive wave, one that would land with his hand over Essa's mouth if not for the risk of being bitten. He also realized he spoke twice as loud as normal to manage an interruption. Getting his volume back under control, he raised his cup to his elder when the Senator followed "Let us pray I am not prognostic, and that you are home for good. Colchis is stronger with her sons at the hearth."

"Your kindess knows no bounds, my Lord," he replied before taking a sip, and could swear Essa was going to kick him under the table. Which, to be fair, he likely had coming after the disgusting idea of the old man engaged in coitus reared its ugly head. He caught the glimpse that the old man stole before barreling further on into the subject, flying past the point of no return. His only solace was the fact it came from such a wretched teacher that it may preserve Essa's innocence that much longer. Clearing his throat when the offer of a book was made, he leaned in and whispered "I... have some doubts about his literature. However, there are certain... implements, like silk paper and sheepskin that one can use to protect oneself," he told her, erring on the side of caution in case some young man had caught her attention. It would not do, as the Elder said, for her to get caught in a scandal. In this sole instance, it was better to educate her and be embarrassed than leave her to experiment on her own and watch her suffer.

“I implore you to take care of it. It belonged to my father.”

Alexandros looked from the pendant, then to the girl, and back again. His smile disappeared as she turned serious. I can't take this from her, I'm not the person that deserves this heirloom. Hopefully she won't be angry if I return it to her. He smiled kindly before he found his words. "I greatly appreciate that you would offer this to me, but I am afraid that I am the wrong person to accept this gift. Something this precious belongs with the man who takes your heart, not some stranger at a dinner." He pushed the pendant back to her. "I have something similar that belonged to my mother, and I couldn't bear to part with it, so I can not take this from you. I'm sorry to decline your most gracious gift."

“Alex, I admit I’m surprised that this seems a foreign concept to you, especially for a soldier. But you of all people know that sometimes, you can’t save your face and your ass at the same time. Sometimes, you gotta pick. And if you insist upon always choosing face, which is within your right to do, then surely you accept that may come at the most final of costs,” she spoke after taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “As for others having your back, well, trust and respect is dispensed the way it is in battle…...being earned first. Your humble origins make your unique situation all the more challenging, and in that regard, you are absolutely correct. Whether you like it or not, whether it’s fair or not, you will always possess a social gap among these people. But you don’t have to let it dictate your actions. Your pride is admirable. It truly is. Learning how to play the game here does not mean that pride must be sacrificed. Surely you are a clever man. Figure out a way to manage both.”

The young warrior listened closely as the young woman spoke. While prideful, he was always willing to learn, because what he didn't know might get him killed some day. "I can see your point, thank you for your advice. This type of battle is new to me, but I like to believe that I am learning more and finding my way everyday. The scheming and such is far easier to grasp than the blatant disrespect and rudeness that can and had been offered by some people."

“You mean…. wait...what…. You mean you….. You mean you put ….. Don’t you get diseases?? So…..the tighter the backside, the more right the partner? I mean…. do you to like... test it first?”

Alexandros laughed as she spluttered and shuddered at his joke. He had expected perhaps a laugh or a look of horror, instead she was curious. Well, this is certainly interesting. The little dragon is a curious thing, and that is definitely interesting. Well, we definitely can't give her all the answers the fist time, can we? He smirked as he began to respond. "Yes, I do mean that. No, one will not get diseases, if they are careful. You should avoid partnering with anyone who does, though. No, not quite, though tight is usually preferable, it doesn't make someone a better partner. There is a lot of preparations required to do it right, if that is what you mean."

“Ah, Essa, my dear, perhaps it is best to ignore Alexandros now. He's gotten rather deep in his cups,”

Another interruption? This Kotas does like to comment and stick his nose where it doesn't belong. He is quite different from his brother and sister, and so far not in a good way. He looked the prince over for a moment. "You look as though you are deeper in your cups than I in mine. I am quite lucid. Perhaps you shouldn't deny the curiosity of your cousin, especially if she is dear to you." He replied with a warm smile on his lips that did not reach his eyes. Those blue orbs held some ice for the recently returned prince.

“I... have some doubts about his literature. However, there are certain... implements, like silk paper and sheepskin that one can use to protect oneself,”

"Perhaps the literature would be quite informative for her." The captain said with a smirk. "There are certainly many ways to protect one's self, which is most effective might be a matter for debate."

“Captain Alexandros, aside from the more carnal aspects, what constitutes the ‘right’ partner?”

Alexandros turned to look at the elderly man at the end of the table. That must be Dionysis. Mihail seemed to not be overly fond of him, but so far his conversation has seemed quite interesting. How much do I reveal to him? As little as I can get away, I think, is the best. He smiled warmly to the elderly lord. "Well, that depends largely on the person, does it not? If I knew what made someone the right partner for me, then I would have married by now, I believe." He said with a laugh. "I would say that a strong personality is important, someone with their own thoughts and opinions, who is passionate enough to fight for them is pretty important."

’What poor mortal man did Aphrodite seduce to birth a woman so beautiful? Or perhaps it was Poseidon who fashioned you from the sea.’

Kaia flushed slightly, though if ever she was pleased to hear that she looked nice, it was now. Rene had worked hard after all to bring out the image of how Kaia would look if she were noble. However, being so used to dismissing praise at best, or becoming downright irritated at it when it came to her appearance, Kaia did not quite know how best to respond. With a slightly sheepish smile as her response, Kaia decided to instead agree with Rene, “Yes, I agree. You are much better at coming up with these things,” Kaia mused, before her gaze snapped to the graze on Aea’s arm. Kaia’s expression dropped into a concerned frown, “what happened?”

’Yes, yes. Pick a name you like that sounds vaguely northern. Nobody has asked me yet, but I am Lillefjer Nattergal Omathditter, third-born of Omath Sølvfod Tågedalson, of the house Smadreansigt from Danmork. I’ve just been saying Aidoni because it’s easier for them to pronounce. I’d meant to visit the place of my mother's birth on a pilgrimage—Taengea—but stopped in Colchis to resupply. I’d heard of the Peace Festival not a day before and, having made friends with the Princess that very night, decided to extend my visit to include another day. As for your lateness...you can either be an elder cousin or a sister, which means you are in charge of everything. Perhaps you were displeased with something sold to us and were busy with the merchant who made the deal. Maybe one of the wheels fell from the carriage. You were with a lover. The boat had a hole in it that needed to be repaired. You got distracted by a street musician. Pick whatever suits, or none if they don’t. Oh!’

Kaia stepped out of the carriage with Rene as Aea spoke. While Kaia was trying to pay attention to what her cousin was telling her, she couldn’t shake that Aea was injured while in the presence of some unknown man. Clearly he was not her assailant, or he would likely be in a ditch somewhere, bleeding out, but Kaia was wary all the same.

’Oh, uhm. Yes, this. I had a scuffle with a stone bench.’

Kaia narrowed her eyes slightly in suspicion, but otherwise did not question it. There was more to that story, if it was true, though Kaia could understand that perhaps Aea was brushing it off for the sake of the company they were in. As it was, Kaia still did not know how the blonde man fit into the equation.

’That is Lord Stelios of House Antonis. He ah...insisted on escorting me outside. Presumably so I didn’t break myself on another bench.’

Well, at least she had a name to put to him. Kaia turned her stormy gaze towards him and considered him more openly this time, since Aea had not given any of their silent signals that he was a threat to them. If he was escorting Aea, did that mean he had something over her? Kaia flicked her gaze back to Aea, alert and looking for any of their silent signals just in case.

When Aea turned back to the man and apologised, Kaia tensed slightly. She sure hoped he wouldn’t be the type of person to turn them in now. This was not how she envisioned they’d be caught—if at all. Kaia was surprised to hear Aea invite him out with them though. Perhaps Aea fancied the man. Kaia’s expression eased a little more. If Aea fancied him, then that was truly the ultimate distraction from the previous night. Kaia wouldn’t get involved this time though, not like last time in Megaris.

’Dinner awaits, my ladies.’

Kaia gave a nod, then turned back to Rene with a pleased and thankful grin. “Yes of course. I myself am quite hungry. I saw the food in the kitchens, it smelt amazing,” Kaia explained enthusiastically, holding an arm out for Rene. Kaia flicked her gaze to Aea, wondering if Lady Aidoni would walk arm in arm with two other women or not. Kaia knew Aea did not like unnecessary contact, but the offer was there all the same.

“So perhaps I am a companion of yours,” Kaia mused in thought. “Freja of….” she hesitated, looking to Aea again. “Got any other northern sounding names in mind?”

Looking back to Lord Stelios again, Kaia tried to read his expression and inclination towards Aea. How did he view her cousin? Would he be a gentleman with her? Perhaps Aea would want to walk back in with him. Kaia was confident in Aea’s abilities to take what she wanted by the short and curlies, just so long as she was in no danger. Kaia wouldn’t be so apprehensive if she knew exactly how Aea hurt herself on a stationary object like a bench.

“Will you be accompanying us, Lord Stelios?” Kaia asked as they began to walk, wondering if his answer would explain anything more.