A nighttime gale slipped through the shuttered windows and carried sheer drapings to flutter against Aea's bare shoulder. Her eyes barely cracked open at the contact and it was the work of a moment for her to drift off again. It was not the evening hush or the gentle gauze that woke her, but the hand upon her back. Aea sat up with a startled suddenness that twisted her innards, but the realization of where she was doused her panic and left her with nothing but drowsiness.

A serving girl, yellow of hair and brown of eye, bent beside her and murmured that it was her turn to sit with the princess. Aea rolled her fists neath her eyes and when questioned why she was here and Kaia was not, her voice carried in a whispered utterance. "Kaia is feeling ill. She will be back to her shift tomorrow."

Having slept with her head buried in the folds of her arms upon the princess’ bed, her back protested when she slowly stood and stretched. It was not like her to fall asleep, but she’d taken her and Kaia’s shifts for the evening and not even practicing her letters could keep Aea from drifting off after the eighth hour monitoring the sleeping royal.

And Aea’s night not was not yet done. Nay, it was only beginning.

She gathered her sandals in one hand, her parchment in the other, and quietly padded to the princess’ bedside. Athenasia’s breathing blew through her lips evenly and she bore no sweat on her brow. Her water goblet was full, a fresh apple next to it should she wake and need it. Her chamberpot was empty, her small frame tucked into fresh sheets. There was nothing more that needed to be done.

The serving girl lit a single candle that brought a small light to the darkness of the royal chambers and barefoot, Aea slipped away.

She glided down the hallway, still rubbing her eyes awake for the night to come. After checking her cousin's chambers and finding the blonde peacefully asleep, she made for her own small room a little deeper into the corridor.

It was not stubbornness that guided her into her darkened chambers and past her small bed. The sheets called out to her and promised rest, but duty made her deaf to such a siren's song. Instead, she lit a small oil lamp and began the task of readying herself for the journey that couldn't wait until the dawn. Her mind wouldn't allow her to stop thinking of it, and something goaded her to swiftness. As if Alexandros would disappear at Eos’ rising.

She anointed her cheeks and neck with clean water, ran a brush through her hair before braiding it back, and traded her white peplos for a clean black tunic before sliding a thick leather belt about her hips. She armed herself with two xiphos that rode the sharp dip of her waist and six daggers stretched in a grin across the flat of her stomach. Her utility pouch found its home above the swell of her backside and a string of braided leathers wrapped thrice round her wrist in the event she needed to make a noose. Not for Alexandros; she did not expect choking was necessary for him to honor her cousin, but she was not stupid enough to believe a sword would be sufficient deterrent for any would-be thieves.

Though she was far from thin or wisp-like, at five feet and three inches she was not exactly a muscle-bound amazonian of legend, either. Which is why Ajax would accompany her. Aea was no prideful thing to take unnecessary risk. A lone wolf was a dead one, and even commanders did not travel without soldiers. Especially when black of night devoured the reddened dusk.

Sandals tied, resolve solidified, Aea swept from her room with her chlamys thrown over one arm and her determination keeping the thump of her heart from stopping its steady canter.

Torchlight illuminated her path along the clean stone corridors and her form cast the vaguest of reflections upon polished vases she flew past. The echoing tap of her sandals chased her heels from one wing to the next and when she arrived in a place she had not ventured to before, she slowed.

She’d spent her entire life accustomed to mixed living. She fought with men, slept beside them, ate with them, and now that she had to be aware of what was and was not unacceptable, she found herself more at a loss than not. Was it alright for her to even go in this hallway, much less knock on a man’s door?

With an eye upon a near guard, she took an experimental step past the border of the traveling corridor and into the next. The guard did not so much as look at her, and so she continued deeper into the belly of the hallway. Her steps were not as quick as they once were, but she did not stop either.

The guards she spoke to earlier could not help her, and one foolishly suggested she ask the current captain—whoever that was. Nobody suggested Prince Vangelis; that had been Aea’s idea. Partially because he would have an answer, partially because she trusted him not to concern himself with why, and partially because she knew where to find him as opposed to some captain she didn't know.

That, and she was beginning to dislike captains entirely. No doubt a knock upon one's door would see her privy to some drunken speech on the merits of wine, women, and war. And now her cousin had need to marry one of the prideful beasts.

She stopped in front Prince Vangelis' door and raised her fist to knock, but then dropped her hand just as swiftly and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. On the unlikely chance he would ask about her business, then she would have to tell him because she couldn't lie to him or any of the Kotas, and then everything would dissolve from there.

Gods damn her cousin. This was ridiculous. Aea should not be nervous of a question. She would not be. It was just a question. He may not even give her the answer and just send her on her way. It was not the concern of a prince why a servant had a particular business. 

Her eyes dropped to her feet and she frowned at them. Too late to leave now, even if she decided to. Long shadows reached from beneath Prince Vangelis' door, which meant he was awake and inside. And he was not so unobservant that he wouldn't notice her shadow haunting his chambers if she moved away.

This needed to be done. If Alexandros refused, she'd hold a knife to his balls and make him write his agreement on binding parchment if she had to. And if he was fool enough that he wouldn't marry Kaia—which Aea somewhat hoped he wouldn't—he would have to pay. The money would go to Kaia's baby and Aea would make her the biggest dowry possible, one fit for a noblewoman, and she would see her cousin married to a rich man who would take care of her. It would be difficult now that Kaia had another man's child, but not impossible. Most people were weak to beauty, and Kaia was as lovely as they came. Even Kaia herself was weak to beauty. A pretty face, a sizable dowry, a few strategic favors, and Kaia would be settled. Aea would have to make investments, not purchases, and she would have to ask Athenasia how one went about gaining favor with people of means. But it could be done. And if not...then Aea would just have to be a substitute. Kaia would not even have to work, she could just raise the baby and Aea would bring in the funds to support all three of them. Aea would make this work.

And when she was captain, herself, then she could bring in enough money to support her family without struggle and she would be paid handsomely to not only protect them, but everyone under her jurisdiction. A multitasking utilitarian, Aea believed wholly it was always best to achieve several things with one stroke.

A long, cool breath blew past Aea’s lips and she rapped on the prince’s door before dropping her fist to her side. Jaw set, blue eyes sharp, she stared at the portal with an alertness that belied her haste. The chlamys thrown over her arm acted as an anchor for her swinging thoughts, kept her determination from dissolving into anger and frustration. Because she was angry. At Kaia and Alexandros for their childish abandon, at herself for her carelessness. If Aea would have just stopped Kaia, if she had not been so distracted by wrestling the prince of Colchis like a fool, this would not have happened.

Kaia had to stop putting herself in danger disguised as amusements. Aea had to staunch her impulsiveness disguised as bravery. There was more to this life than mindless hedonism. They no longer had their family to lean on for excuses and stupid behavior; their actions did have consequences now. No more robbing, no more lying, no more killing without just cause, no more living in the dirt, no more foolish ideas. It was time to grow up, and though Aea had always taken things in her own unique severity, now there was to be no deviation. The weight upon her shoulders was much heavier than it had been a month ago, but her shoulders were stronger than they seemed. They had to be. She wouldn’t let Kaia go the way of the desperate, and she wouldn’t let herself be dragged there either.

She watched the door, acutely conscious that this was the first time she was speaking to the prince directly where words and movement didn’t involve combat, his sister, or keeping the two topics far from one another. Aea pulled her hair over her shoulder with her free hand and idly tugged at it rather than shift foot to foot. Then she realized she was fidgeting and abruptly stopped. Ridiculous. It was just a question.