The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
The House of Mikaelidas was, perhaps the only place in where Irakles felt he had any form of power or say in anything. Having just returned from an intense training session, a weekly one he put his men through to ensure they retained their training and capabilities despite there being nothing much to fight against these days, his armor was streaked, his battle axe still in his hands as he trudged in the main foyer. Allowing the slaves to take off his armor and take his weapon away for polishing, it was a weary body that dropped into the tub he had instructed to be prepared for him upon the end of his training.
The room was empty, but Irakles had no clue where his wife was. Not that it was a surprising fact. The male had married Myrto out of necessity, not for any passionate love or affection. As such, the prince of forty never bothered much with the location of his wife. So long as Myrto did nothing to besmirch his family name and did her duty by ensuring their sons grew up well into the family name, Irakles left her well enough alone.
Now Meena... the thought of the women made the prince smile, shifting in the tub. The warm water soaked his muscles, relaxing them as he sank deeper in, letting his thoughts flit to his mistress. Now that was a woman that piqued his interest, his body and his mind all at the same time. Even after bearing him two daughters, Meena was a spectacular women who Irakles found himself returning to time after time. Tasia was proving herself to be a mirror image of her father, with her wiles at court. Sara... ah Sara, the youngest he has, was one he worried for, young and shy as she was.
With the water turning tepid, Irakles got up from the murky liquid, allowing slaves to dry him, before he donned the sea-blue chiton that had been laid out for him. Trimmed on the edges with silver threads, it matched the black woven sandals he slipped his feet in, about to exit his chambers when another slave stopped him in his tracks, announcing the arrival of a young Prince Stephanos.
The spare prince? Interest quirked his brows, a flicker of interest in his eyes. What would his nephew be doing here? While he played the part of a doting uncle, as the years went by, Irakles found his patience growing short for both of them. Upon their birth, he had been hopeful that perhaps, his nephews would not be as spineless as their father. The peace-loving fool he called a brother stopped Irakles at every turn, but while he scoffed at Zenon's tactics of treaties and diplomatic meets, what pushed Irakles over the edge was how it worked. What happened to the glory and greatness of Taengea, if one only had the word and trust of the other? There was no glory, no certainty to their kingdom, and that was what Irakles could not stand most of all.
Sadly for Irakles, his hopes were dashed when, as they grew up, Zacharias proved to be as gentle as his father. And Stephanos? Well, let's just say Irakles would rather not speak of the spare prince. The way he behaved and cavorted around town, the amount of women he left behind... his very existed annoyed Irakles at this point, and the bad taste it left in his mouth at the way his actions reflected upon the family name.
Yet, it was his nephew, afterall
With a sigh, Irakles waved at the slaves to direct Stephanos to the study, where he would greet him. At the very least, there was neutral ground.
Making his way down the second floor to the ground where the study was located facing the courtyard, Irakles slipped in to his table, picking up a document from one of his commanders stationed at a military outpost off the Serenn Islands, studying it. Only when the door opened again, did he looked up, immediately pasting an easy-going, welcoming smile at his nephew when he saw the teen walk in. "Ah, Stephanos. To what do I owe this pleasure of your visit this fine afternoon?"
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The House of Mikaelidas was, perhaps the only place in where Irakles felt he had any form of power or say in anything. Having just returned from an intense training session, a weekly one he put his men through to ensure they retained their training and capabilities despite there being nothing much to fight against these days, his armor was streaked, his battle axe still in his hands as he trudged in the main foyer. Allowing the slaves to take off his armor and take his weapon away for polishing, it was a weary body that dropped into the tub he had instructed to be prepared for him upon the end of his training.
The room was empty, but Irakles had no clue where his wife was. Not that it was a surprising fact. The male had married Myrto out of necessity, not for any passionate love or affection. As such, the prince of forty never bothered much with the location of his wife. So long as Myrto did nothing to besmirch his family name and did her duty by ensuring their sons grew up well into the family name, Irakles left her well enough alone.
Now Meena... the thought of the women made the prince smile, shifting in the tub. The warm water soaked his muscles, relaxing them as he sank deeper in, letting his thoughts flit to his mistress. Now that was a woman that piqued his interest, his body and his mind all at the same time. Even after bearing him two daughters, Meena was a spectacular women who Irakles found himself returning to time after time. Tasia was proving herself to be a mirror image of her father, with her wiles at court. Sara... ah Sara, the youngest he has, was one he worried for, young and shy as she was.
With the water turning tepid, Irakles got up from the murky liquid, allowing slaves to dry him, before he donned the sea-blue chiton that had been laid out for him. Trimmed on the edges with silver threads, it matched the black woven sandals he slipped his feet in, about to exit his chambers when another slave stopped him in his tracks, announcing the arrival of a young Prince Stephanos.
The spare prince? Interest quirked his brows, a flicker of interest in his eyes. What would his nephew be doing here? While he played the part of a doting uncle, as the years went by, Irakles found his patience growing short for both of them. Upon their birth, he had been hopeful that perhaps, his nephews would not be as spineless as their father. The peace-loving fool he called a brother stopped Irakles at every turn, but while he scoffed at Zenon's tactics of treaties and diplomatic meets, what pushed Irakles over the edge was how it worked. What happened to the glory and greatness of Taengea, if one only had the word and trust of the other? There was no glory, no certainty to their kingdom, and that was what Irakles could not stand most of all.
Sadly for Irakles, his hopes were dashed when, as they grew up, Zacharias proved to be as gentle as his father. And Stephanos? Well, let's just say Irakles would rather not speak of the spare prince. The way he behaved and cavorted around town, the amount of women he left behind... his very existed annoyed Irakles at this point, and the bad taste it left in his mouth at the way his actions reflected upon the family name.
Yet, it was his nephew, afterall
With a sigh, Irakles waved at the slaves to direct Stephanos to the study, where he would greet him. At the very least, there was neutral ground.
Making his way down the second floor to the ground where the study was located facing the courtyard, Irakles slipped in to his table, picking up a document from one of his commanders stationed at a military outpost off the Serenn Islands, studying it. Only when the door opened again, did he looked up, immediately pasting an easy-going, welcoming smile at his nephew when he saw the teen walk in. "Ah, Stephanos. To what do I owe this pleasure of your visit this fine afternoon?"
The House of Mikaelidas was, perhaps the only place in where Irakles felt he had any form of power or say in anything. Having just returned from an intense training session, a weekly one he put his men through to ensure they retained their training and capabilities despite there being nothing much to fight against these days, his armor was streaked, his battle axe still in his hands as he trudged in the main foyer. Allowing the slaves to take off his armor and take his weapon away for polishing, it was a weary body that dropped into the tub he had instructed to be prepared for him upon the end of his training.
The room was empty, but Irakles had no clue where his wife was. Not that it was a surprising fact. The male had married Myrto out of necessity, not for any passionate love or affection. As such, the prince of forty never bothered much with the location of his wife. So long as Myrto did nothing to besmirch his family name and did her duty by ensuring their sons grew up well into the family name, Irakles left her well enough alone.
Now Meena... the thought of the women made the prince smile, shifting in the tub. The warm water soaked his muscles, relaxing them as he sank deeper in, letting his thoughts flit to his mistress. Now that was a woman that piqued his interest, his body and his mind all at the same time. Even after bearing him two daughters, Meena was a spectacular women who Irakles found himself returning to time after time. Tasia was proving herself to be a mirror image of her father, with her wiles at court. Sara... ah Sara, the youngest he has, was one he worried for, young and shy as she was.
With the water turning tepid, Irakles got up from the murky liquid, allowing slaves to dry him, before he donned the sea-blue chiton that had been laid out for him. Trimmed on the edges with silver threads, it matched the black woven sandals he slipped his feet in, about to exit his chambers when another slave stopped him in his tracks, announcing the arrival of a young Prince Stephanos.
The spare prince? Interest quirked his brows, a flicker of interest in his eyes. What would his nephew be doing here? While he played the part of a doting uncle, as the years went by, Irakles found his patience growing short for both of them. Upon their birth, he had been hopeful that perhaps, his nephews would not be as spineless as their father. The peace-loving fool he called a brother stopped Irakles at every turn, but while he scoffed at Zenon's tactics of treaties and diplomatic meets, what pushed Irakles over the edge was how it worked. What happened to the glory and greatness of Taengea, if one only had the word and trust of the other? There was no glory, no certainty to their kingdom, and that was what Irakles could not stand most of all.
Sadly for Irakles, his hopes were dashed when, as they grew up, Zacharias proved to be as gentle as his father. And Stephanos? Well, let's just say Irakles would rather not speak of the spare prince. The way he behaved and cavorted around town, the amount of women he left behind... his very existed annoyed Irakles at this point, and the bad taste it left in his mouth at the way his actions reflected upon the family name.
Yet, it was his nephew, afterall
With a sigh, Irakles waved at the slaves to direct Stephanos to the study, where he would greet him. At the very least, there was neutral ground.
Making his way down the second floor to the ground where the study was located facing the courtyard, Irakles slipped in to his table, picking up a document from one of his commanders stationed at a military outpost off the Serenn Islands, studying it. Only when the door opened again, did he looked up, immediately pasting an easy-going, welcoming smile at his nephew when he saw the teen walk in. "Ah, Stephanos. To what do I owe this pleasure of your visit this fine afternoon?"
The streets meandering from the palace to The Quarter, where his uncle’s villa lay were as familiar to him as the palace itself. This little trip was taken nearly every morning to see either Achilleas or Emilios, or, more often, both. Often times his brother accompanied him but today Zacharias was stuck in the throne room with their father, listening to the complaints of the people and observing their father’s judgements. It sounded incredibly tedious.
Today, Stephanos walked alone. He had not come to flush out his cousins for mock battles at the circus and took great pains to skirt around them when he saw them walking up the path toward the palace, likely in search of him. Darting behind a pillar, he waited for them to pass. Neither one noticed him and once they were a good enough distance away, he slipped back out onto the street that divided the rows of villas from each other.
Courtiers nodded to him and gave a shallow bow but otherwise did not break their conversations. He was a common enough occurrence that sometimes formality was done away with in favor of respectful nods to his status with none of the fanfare. This he did not mind, though his brother always seemed to bristle at it.
The Mikaelidas Archontiko lay sprawled out before him, situated comfortably enough and, to Stephanos’s eyes, was an inviting place. It was smaller than the palace and seemed much more comfortable. To him, his cousins led a charmed life. Comfortable, with a devoted, doting father and a mother who saw to their every need. Of course, he wouldn’t trade his own parents but he couldn’t help but be a little jealous at what he perceived the father/son relationship to be between Irakles and Achilleas and Emilios. It all seemed so warm and charming.
“You’ve just missed your cousins, my prince,” one of the guards said as Stephanos drew up to the entrance. Stephanos grinned and patted the guard on his shoulder as he strode by.
“Not here for those two goats,” he said. “I’m here for my uncle. He is home?”
“He is, your highness,” the guard shook his head with a small smile and an eye roll before turning back to watching the street. Stephanos was shown into the house and asked to wait while his uncle was found. He stood with his arms crossed, glancing at a shrine in the corner that still held the morning’s sacrifice.
The wait was not long. Presently a servant came and took him to Irakles’s study. This room was not unfamiliar but he rarely ventured in here. None of his escapades with his cousins involved raiding his uncle’s private rooms. Irakles stood beside a table, looking over a document as Stephanos entered. With the flash of an easy smile, Stephanos did the same and shut the door behind him.
"Ah, Stephanos. To what do I owe this pleasure of your visit this fine afternoon?"
“I wanted to discuss something my father wouldn’t,” he replied, drifting over to look at the cubby beside the door. In it were scrolls, all containing what seemed like vital information he’d never know. “We were discussing Egypt last night,” Stephanos went on absently. “The way father was talking, I assumed we’d be at war with them but-” and here he turned, eyeing his uncle. “Well, we’re not, are we?”
Moving closer, he shrugged and went on. “I just kind of wanted to know why we annexed part of Tangea to Egypt if we hate them so much. You know how father won’t discuss things he doesn’t like. I came to you instead.”
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The streets meandering from the palace to The Quarter, where his uncle’s villa lay were as familiar to him as the palace itself. This little trip was taken nearly every morning to see either Achilleas or Emilios, or, more often, both. Often times his brother accompanied him but today Zacharias was stuck in the throne room with their father, listening to the complaints of the people and observing their father’s judgements. It sounded incredibly tedious.
Today, Stephanos walked alone. He had not come to flush out his cousins for mock battles at the circus and took great pains to skirt around them when he saw them walking up the path toward the palace, likely in search of him. Darting behind a pillar, he waited for them to pass. Neither one noticed him and once they were a good enough distance away, he slipped back out onto the street that divided the rows of villas from each other.
Courtiers nodded to him and gave a shallow bow but otherwise did not break their conversations. He was a common enough occurrence that sometimes formality was done away with in favor of respectful nods to his status with none of the fanfare. This he did not mind, though his brother always seemed to bristle at it.
The Mikaelidas Archontiko lay sprawled out before him, situated comfortably enough and, to Stephanos’s eyes, was an inviting place. It was smaller than the palace and seemed much more comfortable. To him, his cousins led a charmed life. Comfortable, with a devoted, doting father and a mother who saw to their every need. Of course, he wouldn’t trade his own parents but he couldn’t help but be a little jealous at what he perceived the father/son relationship to be between Irakles and Achilleas and Emilios. It all seemed so warm and charming.
“You’ve just missed your cousins, my prince,” one of the guards said as Stephanos drew up to the entrance. Stephanos grinned and patted the guard on his shoulder as he strode by.
“Not here for those two goats,” he said. “I’m here for my uncle. He is home?”
“He is, your highness,” the guard shook his head with a small smile and an eye roll before turning back to watching the street. Stephanos was shown into the house and asked to wait while his uncle was found. He stood with his arms crossed, glancing at a shrine in the corner that still held the morning’s sacrifice.
The wait was not long. Presently a servant came and took him to Irakles’s study. This room was not unfamiliar but he rarely ventured in here. None of his escapades with his cousins involved raiding his uncle’s private rooms. Irakles stood beside a table, looking over a document as Stephanos entered. With the flash of an easy smile, Stephanos did the same and shut the door behind him.
"Ah, Stephanos. To what do I owe this pleasure of your visit this fine afternoon?"
“I wanted to discuss something my father wouldn’t,” he replied, drifting over to look at the cubby beside the door. In it were scrolls, all containing what seemed like vital information he’d never know. “We were discussing Egypt last night,” Stephanos went on absently. “The way father was talking, I assumed we’d be at war with them but-” and here he turned, eyeing his uncle. “Well, we’re not, are we?”
Moving closer, he shrugged and went on. “I just kind of wanted to know why we annexed part of Tangea to Egypt if we hate them so much. You know how father won’t discuss things he doesn’t like. I came to you instead.”
The streets meandering from the palace to The Quarter, where his uncle’s villa lay were as familiar to him as the palace itself. This little trip was taken nearly every morning to see either Achilleas or Emilios, or, more often, both. Often times his brother accompanied him but today Zacharias was stuck in the throne room with their father, listening to the complaints of the people and observing their father’s judgements. It sounded incredibly tedious.
Today, Stephanos walked alone. He had not come to flush out his cousins for mock battles at the circus and took great pains to skirt around them when he saw them walking up the path toward the palace, likely in search of him. Darting behind a pillar, he waited for them to pass. Neither one noticed him and once they were a good enough distance away, he slipped back out onto the street that divided the rows of villas from each other.
Courtiers nodded to him and gave a shallow bow but otherwise did not break their conversations. He was a common enough occurrence that sometimes formality was done away with in favor of respectful nods to his status with none of the fanfare. This he did not mind, though his brother always seemed to bristle at it.
The Mikaelidas Archontiko lay sprawled out before him, situated comfortably enough and, to Stephanos’s eyes, was an inviting place. It was smaller than the palace and seemed much more comfortable. To him, his cousins led a charmed life. Comfortable, with a devoted, doting father and a mother who saw to their every need. Of course, he wouldn’t trade his own parents but he couldn’t help but be a little jealous at what he perceived the father/son relationship to be between Irakles and Achilleas and Emilios. It all seemed so warm and charming.
“You’ve just missed your cousins, my prince,” one of the guards said as Stephanos drew up to the entrance. Stephanos grinned and patted the guard on his shoulder as he strode by.
“Not here for those two goats,” he said. “I’m here for my uncle. He is home?”
“He is, your highness,” the guard shook his head with a small smile and an eye roll before turning back to watching the street. Stephanos was shown into the house and asked to wait while his uncle was found. He stood with his arms crossed, glancing at a shrine in the corner that still held the morning’s sacrifice.
The wait was not long. Presently a servant came and took him to Irakles’s study. This room was not unfamiliar but he rarely ventured in here. None of his escapades with his cousins involved raiding his uncle’s private rooms. Irakles stood beside a table, looking over a document as Stephanos entered. With the flash of an easy smile, Stephanos did the same and shut the door behind him.
"Ah, Stephanos. To what do I owe this pleasure of your visit this fine afternoon?"
“I wanted to discuss something my father wouldn’t,” he replied, drifting over to look at the cubby beside the door. In it were scrolls, all containing what seemed like vital information he’d never know. “We were discussing Egypt last night,” Stephanos went on absently. “The way father was talking, I assumed we’d be at war with them but-” and here he turned, eyeing his uncle. “Well, we’re not, are we?”
Moving closer, he shrugged and went on. “I just kind of wanted to know why we annexed part of Tangea to Egypt if we hate them so much. You know how father won’t discuss things he doesn’t like. I came to you instead.”
With his hip leaning on the edge of his beautifully polished oaken table, it was this position where the middle-aged male greeted Stephanos, with the smile that was polished and genuine after years of practice. Afterall, it would do him no good if he showed the distaste he had for the ways of his elder half-brother and his sons, now would it?
The elder male raised a brow, and then waved his nephew over to take a seat in one of the two chairs he had facing his desk. Grabbing a quill from his inkpot, Irakles scrawled his signature with a flourish approving one of the military outposts training his commanders had sent him, and tossed it in the pile that was to be delivered before he turned to face Stephanos, another practiced kindly smile on his lips, brows raised in obvious curiosity that bade his nephew to continue.
The topic though, caught him by surprise.
It wasn't that Zenon had refused to discuss it that surprised Irakles - the annexe was another piece of history that the elder male found a disservice to his beloved kingdom. Taengea deserved more then having bits and pieces of its land docked off as peace treaties. They should be the ones who people bowed to, should they not?
"Ah." Irakles paused, as if considering his words. "No, we're not." Wandering away from the table, he grabbed two chalices and a pitcher of wine, strolling back as he poured the ruby liquid into both mugs. Passing one to Stephanos, he laid the pitcher on the table and brought the rim of the other to his lips, taking a swig as his mind ran. What did he tell the young one? Zenon had always agreed to that move - in fact, it was the one point in history lessons with his tutor that Irakles had started a huge argument, and his sentiments remained till this day.
"War is not something... everyone agrees upon." his words were slowly picked, every syllable a consideration. Peering at his nephew from the top of his chalice, a slightly calculative look flashed in his eyes. Did... his nephew, perhaps, not agree with the annexing of Taengea to one of their greatest enemy realms? Was he not as hopeless as he thought he was? "I'm surprised you would take such an interest in such a... serious topic, nephew. Tell me, what do you think?" his tone held a sense of challenge as he shot the question back at the young prince, curiosity brimming.
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
With his hip leaning on the edge of his beautifully polished oaken table, it was this position where the middle-aged male greeted Stephanos, with the smile that was polished and genuine after years of practice. Afterall, it would do him no good if he showed the distaste he had for the ways of his elder half-brother and his sons, now would it?
The elder male raised a brow, and then waved his nephew over to take a seat in one of the two chairs he had facing his desk. Grabbing a quill from his inkpot, Irakles scrawled his signature with a flourish approving one of the military outposts training his commanders had sent him, and tossed it in the pile that was to be delivered before he turned to face Stephanos, another practiced kindly smile on his lips, brows raised in obvious curiosity that bade his nephew to continue.
The topic though, caught him by surprise.
It wasn't that Zenon had refused to discuss it that surprised Irakles - the annexe was another piece of history that the elder male found a disservice to his beloved kingdom. Taengea deserved more then having bits and pieces of its land docked off as peace treaties. They should be the ones who people bowed to, should they not?
"Ah." Irakles paused, as if considering his words. "No, we're not." Wandering away from the table, he grabbed two chalices and a pitcher of wine, strolling back as he poured the ruby liquid into both mugs. Passing one to Stephanos, he laid the pitcher on the table and brought the rim of the other to his lips, taking a swig as his mind ran. What did he tell the young one? Zenon had always agreed to that move - in fact, it was the one point in history lessons with his tutor that Irakles had started a huge argument, and his sentiments remained till this day.
"War is not something... everyone agrees upon." his words were slowly picked, every syllable a consideration. Peering at his nephew from the top of his chalice, a slightly calculative look flashed in his eyes. Did... his nephew, perhaps, not agree with the annexing of Taengea to one of their greatest enemy realms? Was he not as hopeless as he thought he was? "I'm surprised you would take such an interest in such a... serious topic, nephew. Tell me, what do you think?" his tone held a sense of challenge as he shot the question back at the young prince, curiosity brimming.
With his hip leaning on the edge of his beautifully polished oaken table, it was this position where the middle-aged male greeted Stephanos, with the smile that was polished and genuine after years of practice. Afterall, it would do him no good if he showed the distaste he had for the ways of his elder half-brother and his sons, now would it?
The elder male raised a brow, and then waved his nephew over to take a seat in one of the two chairs he had facing his desk. Grabbing a quill from his inkpot, Irakles scrawled his signature with a flourish approving one of the military outposts training his commanders had sent him, and tossed it in the pile that was to be delivered before he turned to face Stephanos, another practiced kindly smile on his lips, brows raised in obvious curiosity that bade his nephew to continue.
The topic though, caught him by surprise.
It wasn't that Zenon had refused to discuss it that surprised Irakles - the annexe was another piece of history that the elder male found a disservice to his beloved kingdom. Taengea deserved more then having bits and pieces of its land docked off as peace treaties. They should be the ones who people bowed to, should they not?
"Ah." Irakles paused, as if considering his words. "No, we're not." Wandering away from the table, he grabbed two chalices and a pitcher of wine, strolling back as he poured the ruby liquid into both mugs. Passing one to Stephanos, he laid the pitcher on the table and brought the rim of the other to his lips, taking a swig as his mind ran. What did he tell the young one? Zenon had always agreed to that move - in fact, it was the one point in history lessons with his tutor that Irakles had started a huge argument, and his sentiments remained till this day.
"War is not something... everyone agrees upon." his words were slowly picked, every syllable a consideration. Peering at his nephew from the top of his chalice, a slightly calculative look flashed in his eyes. Did... his nephew, perhaps, not agree with the annexing of Taengea to one of their greatest enemy realms? Was he not as hopeless as he thought he was? "I'm surprised you would take such an interest in such a... serious topic, nephew. Tell me, what do you think?" his tone held a sense of challenge as he shot the question back at the young prince, curiosity brimming.
At his uncle’s gesture, Stephanos left the wall of scrolls and sat in the chair to the right while Irakles took his place behind the desk. He leaned forward a little, watching the quill scrawl across the parchment and had the sudden want to do something important. Everything that Irakles did breathed confidence; that he had found his place and was a conscientious executioner of his duties.
Both being second sons, Stephanos felt a kinship toward his uncle that his brother had never understood. Though his father had never done anything to prevent Stephanos from coming to his uncle or playing with his cousins, he’d always given him a look that suggested that his time might be better spent elsewhere. The look was always a tight twist to the mouth in just the corners and a turn of the head. A clear: do what you want but that wouldn’t be my first choice.
When Irakles was done with the paper, he tossed it onto a neat, though growing stack of parchment. He turned his attention back to his nephew with a comforting expression indicating that, at last, his attention was fully there. Stephanos continued with his question, feeling a little gratified at the surprise he was able to induce in his uncle.
"Ah...No, we're not."
Stephanos watched his uncle walk over to a table and pick up two glasses and a wine decanter. With both glasses poured and his uncle again seated behind the desk, Stephanos grabbed his chalice and waited for Irakles to sip first before doing so himself. It was an unconscious habit now; one his mother had instilled in all her children.
"War is not something... everyone agrees upon."
“Exactly,” Stephanos set down his goblet, ready to debate but the way his uncle looked at him made him pause.
"I'm surprised you would take such an interest in such a... serious topic, nephew. Tell me, what do you think?"
His ego rankled at the silent accusation that he was too feckless or stupid to care but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. The difference was this was coming from his uncle; a man he’d imagined saw him differently than everyone else. Only his brother didn’t treat him with indifference if he wanted to wade into politics. Everyone else? They patronized him or or indulged him with condecision, just as Irakles was doing now.
“I’m interested in quite a few things,” Stephanos didn’t bother to hide his defensive tone. “And I think that we shouldn’t have just given our lands away. To Egypt, of all places. Were they threatening us with war? Or did Grandfather just...volunteer it?” He couldn’t remember. What he did know is the whole thing was still a big issue at the beginning of his father’s reign.
He was anxious to obtain his uncle’s good opinion. It was important to him to have at least one person in his family take him seriously.
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
At his uncle’s gesture, Stephanos left the wall of scrolls and sat in the chair to the right while Irakles took his place behind the desk. He leaned forward a little, watching the quill scrawl across the parchment and had the sudden want to do something important. Everything that Irakles did breathed confidence; that he had found his place and was a conscientious executioner of his duties.
Both being second sons, Stephanos felt a kinship toward his uncle that his brother had never understood. Though his father had never done anything to prevent Stephanos from coming to his uncle or playing with his cousins, he’d always given him a look that suggested that his time might be better spent elsewhere. The look was always a tight twist to the mouth in just the corners and a turn of the head. A clear: do what you want but that wouldn’t be my first choice.
When Irakles was done with the paper, he tossed it onto a neat, though growing stack of parchment. He turned his attention back to his nephew with a comforting expression indicating that, at last, his attention was fully there. Stephanos continued with his question, feeling a little gratified at the surprise he was able to induce in his uncle.
"Ah...No, we're not."
Stephanos watched his uncle walk over to a table and pick up two glasses and a wine decanter. With both glasses poured and his uncle again seated behind the desk, Stephanos grabbed his chalice and waited for Irakles to sip first before doing so himself. It was an unconscious habit now; one his mother had instilled in all her children.
"War is not something... everyone agrees upon."
“Exactly,” Stephanos set down his goblet, ready to debate but the way his uncle looked at him made him pause.
"I'm surprised you would take such an interest in such a... serious topic, nephew. Tell me, what do you think?"
His ego rankled at the silent accusation that he was too feckless or stupid to care but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. The difference was this was coming from his uncle; a man he’d imagined saw him differently than everyone else. Only his brother didn’t treat him with indifference if he wanted to wade into politics. Everyone else? They patronized him or or indulged him with condecision, just as Irakles was doing now.
“I’m interested in quite a few things,” Stephanos didn’t bother to hide his defensive tone. “And I think that we shouldn’t have just given our lands away. To Egypt, of all places. Were they threatening us with war? Or did Grandfather just...volunteer it?” He couldn’t remember. What he did know is the whole thing was still a big issue at the beginning of his father’s reign.
He was anxious to obtain his uncle’s good opinion. It was important to him to have at least one person in his family take him seriously.
At his uncle’s gesture, Stephanos left the wall of scrolls and sat in the chair to the right while Irakles took his place behind the desk. He leaned forward a little, watching the quill scrawl across the parchment and had the sudden want to do something important. Everything that Irakles did breathed confidence; that he had found his place and was a conscientious executioner of his duties.
Both being second sons, Stephanos felt a kinship toward his uncle that his brother had never understood. Though his father had never done anything to prevent Stephanos from coming to his uncle or playing with his cousins, he’d always given him a look that suggested that his time might be better spent elsewhere. The look was always a tight twist to the mouth in just the corners and a turn of the head. A clear: do what you want but that wouldn’t be my first choice.
When Irakles was done with the paper, he tossed it onto a neat, though growing stack of parchment. He turned his attention back to his nephew with a comforting expression indicating that, at last, his attention was fully there. Stephanos continued with his question, feeling a little gratified at the surprise he was able to induce in his uncle.
"Ah...No, we're not."
Stephanos watched his uncle walk over to a table and pick up two glasses and a wine decanter. With both glasses poured and his uncle again seated behind the desk, Stephanos grabbed his chalice and waited for Irakles to sip first before doing so himself. It was an unconscious habit now; one his mother had instilled in all her children.
"War is not something... everyone agrees upon."
“Exactly,” Stephanos set down his goblet, ready to debate but the way his uncle looked at him made him pause.
"I'm surprised you would take such an interest in such a... serious topic, nephew. Tell me, what do you think?"
His ego rankled at the silent accusation that he was too feckless or stupid to care but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. The difference was this was coming from his uncle; a man he’d imagined saw him differently than everyone else. Only his brother didn’t treat him with indifference if he wanted to wade into politics. Everyone else? They patronized him or or indulged him with condecision, just as Irakles was doing now.
“I’m interested in quite a few things,” Stephanos didn’t bother to hide his defensive tone. “And I think that we shouldn’t have just given our lands away. To Egypt, of all places. Were they threatening us with war? Or did Grandfather just...volunteer it?” He couldn’t remember. What he did know is the whole thing was still a big issue at the beginning of his father’s reign.
He was anxious to obtain his uncle’s good opinion. It was important to him to have at least one person in his family take him seriously.
The elder male hid the surprise in his eyes at his nephew's response, at how tightly wound he seemed to be to discuss such matters. Had something occured back at the royal palace that Irakles was not privy to? The royal palace that had once been his home.
The thought made a scowl flit across his face, a quick, dark one that he quickly hid carefully, arranging his features to once again display the easy-going smile. But it lingered in his heart, just where it had remained just under the surface, festering for years and years. The palace he had been brought up in, where he had grew up learning the ins and outs of being a prince, to deal with politics and court, senators and politicians... only to have his idiot brother waltz back in and take it all back, and giving out peace treaties left and right like they were candy.
His grip clenched on his chalice, and in his effort to clear his throat, Irakles gulped the rest of his wine down, placing the chalice on the wooden surface of his table. Turning to Stephanos with the once more smooth-as-butter smile on his lips, he chuckled in the deep baritone of his, the sound which hid the surprise that his nephew actually did not agree to his grandfather's ways. He knew Zenon had been part of who had talked their father into giving away their lands like a gift wrapped up with no fight.
Irakles had been young, but as he grew up and knew of the fact, he had not been happy, tried to convince the previous King otherwise, but was denied to his last breathe. The denial continued with his brother, and that was perhaps when the first seeds of frustration had been planted. "I am surprised you would think that way, my boy." While his tone sounded like the doting uncle, the underlaying tone sounded more placating then anything as Irakles got off where he had been leaning his hip on the table, and strolled over to pull a thick, leatherbound book off his shelves, the gold title 'The Method of Mechanical Theorems' emblazoned on its spine.
Pivoting on his heel to lean against the shelf as his eyes remained on the pages he flicked through, Irakles spoke as if dismissing the younger's thoughts. "Perhaps you're right, Stephanos. The lands that were given away was our right as Taengeans." For a brief second, the genuine sound of frustration could be heard in the tight tone of the last two words, but Irakles let it melt into an easygoing smile, letting his gaze flick over to peer at Stephanos over the top of the book. "But do not bother your pr- your head with such trivial past matters. I'm sure you have much more interesting things to do with your time, my boy. Besides, " he paused, and a small smile curled his lips ups. "Your father was in agreement with the annexing. I do not think it is in your favor to question him." The boy was careless, too much so. Both in his words and his actions, and Irakles had no time for someone as thoughtless as him. Even if Stephanos showed interest in an issue that had frustrated Irakles to no end, he did not trust Stephanos to be of the sound mind to not share his opinions.
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The elder male hid the surprise in his eyes at his nephew's response, at how tightly wound he seemed to be to discuss such matters. Had something occured back at the royal palace that Irakles was not privy to? The royal palace that had once been his home.
The thought made a scowl flit across his face, a quick, dark one that he quickly hid carefully, arranging his features to once again display the easy-going smile. But it lingered in his heart, just where it had remained just under the surface, festering for years and years. The palace he had been brought up in, where he had grew up learning the ins and outs of being a prince, to deal with politics and court, senators and politicians... only to have his idiot brother waltz back in and take it all back, and giving out peace treaties left and right like they were candy.
His grip clenched on his chalice, and in his effort to clear his throat, Irakles gulped the rest of his wine down, placing the chalice on the wooden surface of his table. Turning to Stephanos with the once more smooth-as-butter smile on his lips, he chuckled in the deep baritone of his, the sound which hid the surprise that his nephew actually did not agree to his grandfather's ways. He knew Zenon had been part of who had talked their father into giving away their lands like a gift wrapped up with no fight.
Irakles had been young, but as he grew up and knew of the fact, he had not been happy, tried to convince the previous King otherwise, but was denied to his last breathe. The denial continued with his brother, and that was perhaps when the first seeds of frustration had been planted. "I am surprised you would think that way, my boy." While his tone sounded like the doting uncle, the underlaying tone sounded more placating then anything as Irakles got off where he had been leaning his hip on the table, and strolled over to pull a thick, leatherbound book off his shelves, the gold title 'The Method of Mechanical Theorems' emblazoned on its spine.
Pivoting on his heel to lean against the shelf as his eyes remained on the pages he flicked through, Irakles spoke as if dismissing the younger's thoughts. "Perhaps you're right, Stephanos. The lands that were given away was our right as Taengeans." For a brief second, the genuine sound of frustration could be heard in the tight tone of the last two words, but Irakles let it melt into an easygoing smile, letting his gaze flick over to peer at Stephanos over the top of the book. "But do not bother your pr- your head with such trivial past matters. I'm sure you have much more interesting things to do with your time, my boy. Besides, " he paused, and a small smile curled his lips ups. "Your father was in agreement with the annexing. I do not think it is in your favor to question him." The boy was careless, too much so. Both in his words and his actions, and Irakles had no time for someone as thoughtless as him. Even if Stephanos showed interest in an issue that had frustrated Irakles to no end, he did not trust Stephanos to be of the sound mind to not share his opinions.
The elder male hid the surprise in his eyes at his nephew's response, at how tightly wound he seemed to be to discuss such matters. Had something occured back at the royal palace that Irakles was not privy to? The royal palace that had once been his home.
The thought made a scowl flit across his face, a quick, dark one that he quickly hid carefully, arranging his features to once again display the easy-going smile. But it lingered in his heart, just where it had remained just under the surface, festering for years and years. The palace he had been brought up in, where he had grew up learning the ins and outs of being a prince, to deal with politics and court, senators and politicians... only to have his idiot brother waltz back in and take it all back, and giving out peace treaties left and right like they were candy.
His grip clenched on his chalice, and in his effort to clear his throat, Irakles gulped the rest of his wine down, placing the chalice on the wooden surface of his table. Turning to Stephanos with the once more smooth-as-butter smile on his lips, he chuckled in the deep baritone of his, the sound which hid the surprise that his nephew actually did not agree to his grandfather's ways. He knew Zenon had been part of who had talked their father into giving away their lands like a gift wrapped up with no fight.
Irakles had been young, but as he grew up and knew of the fact, he had not been happy, tried to convince the previous King otherwise, but was denied to his last breathe. The denial continued with his brother, and that was perhaps when the first seeds of frustration had been planted. "I am surprised you would think that way, my boy." While his tone sounded like the doting uncle, the underlaying tone sounded more placating then anything as Irakles got off where he had been leaning his hip on the table, and strolled over to pull a thick, leatherbound book off his shelves, the gold title 'The Method of Mechanical Theorems' emblazoned on its spine.
Pivoting on his heel to lean against the shelf as his eyes remained on the pages he flicked through, Irakles spoke as if dismissing the younger's thoughts. "Perhaps you're right, Stephanos. The lands that were given away was our right as Taengeans." For a brief second, the genuine sound of frustration could be heard in the tight tone of the last two words, but Irakles let it melt into an easygoing smile, letting his gaze flick over to peer at Stephanos over the top of the book. "But do not bother your pr- your head with such trivial past matters. I'm sure you have much more interesting things to do with your time, my boy. Besides, " he paused, and a small smile curled his lips ups. "Your father was in agreement with the annexing. I do not think it is in your favor to question him." The boy was careless, too much so. Both in his words and his actions, and Irakles had no time for someone as thoughtless as him. Even if Stephanos showed interest in an issue that had frustrated Irakles to no end, he did not trust Stephanos to be of the sound mind to not share his opinions.
Irakles had moved so that he was sitting not in his chair, but on the desk’s top. The way his features arranged themselves, in an attitude of complete concentration, made Stephanos feel as though Irakles understood him. But when he spoke, Stephanos felt himself growing irritated, as though his uncle was twisting things.
"I am surprised you would think that way, my boy."
“Why?” Shifting in his chair, Stephanos leaned forward. “It makes no sense unless we were under imminent attack. And then maybe. But I don’t know. Father won’t discuss it much. Said the subject was ‘closed’.” He made little finger gestures on the word ‘closed’ and looked away as though as frustrated with Irakles as he was with his father.
Irakles got up and walked toward a bookshelf. Stephanos followed him with his eyes only, pretending not to be interested but sitting up straighter anyway when his uncle took out a book. He read the title but it was a book with which he was unfamiliar.
"Perhaps you're right, Stephanos. The lands that were given away was our right as Taengeans."
“That’s what I was thinking-” Stephanos interjected. “But-”
Here, Irakles cut across him.
"But do not bother your pr- your head with such trivial past matters. I'm sure you have much more interesting things to do with your time, my boy. Besides....Your father was in agreement with the annexing. I do not think it is in your favor to question him."
Stephanos blinked. Had his uncle almost just referred to him as ‘pretty?’ Like a woman? He shook his head but the more Irakles spoke, the more agitated Stephanos became. “My father doesn’t mind the questions,” he said defensively. “I'm not speaking treason." That his uncle would even suggest that he, the son of the king, would speak against his own father made him angry. It was unfair but what was worse, was that he could sense Irakles dismissing all of his ideas out of hand. Growing desperate to make his point, he said,
"He just...doesn’t like this subject. And,” he stood now, pointing a finger at Irakles. “You agree with me. I know you do. Our right? You’re exactly right. That piece of land shouldn’t have been given away. What if-”
He left the chairs completely now, his hands held out as though he was holding his idea between them, like it was a ball. “What if a campaign were launched to get it back? Egypt is powerful not not what they once were. Surely they’re not a huge threat? Why give them land they didn’t earn? And can’t afford to keep?”
His eyes were shining now with the prospect. Of all the games that he and his brother and cousins played, their war games were easily his favorite. “I’m sure if you came with me, father would listen to you. My idea would have more merit. He and Zacharias are always telling me I should take a political interest. Well here it is. What do you say, Uncle? You’re his brother. He’ll listen to you.”
Stephanos was not privy to the agitation of the past between his father and uncle. It was not an open war between the brothers, but hidden. To him and to Zacharias, and even their mother, Irakles was the supportive younger brother he should have been. There was no ill will there. As for Zenon, he didn’t dwell on what he didn’t consider a threat.
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Irakles had moved so that he was sitting not in his chair, but on the desk’s top. The way his features arranged themselves, in an attitude of complete concentration, made Stephanos feel as though Irakles understood him. But when he spoke, Stephanos felt himself growing irritated, as though his uncle was twisting things.
"I am surprised you would think that way, my boy."
“Why?” Shifting in his chair, Stephanos leaned forward. “It makes no sense unless we were under imminent attack. And then maybe. But I don’t know. Father won’t discuss it much. Said the subject was ‘closed’.” He made little finger gestures on the word ‘closed’ and looked away as though as frustrated with Irakles as he was with his father.
Irakles got up and walked toward a bookshelf. Stephanos followed him with his eyes only, pretending not to be interested but sitting up straighter anyway when his uncle took out a book. He read the title but it was a book with which he was unfamiliar.
"Perhaps you're right, Stephanos. The lands that were given away was our right as Taengeans."
“That’s what I was thinking-” Stephanos interjected. “But-”
Here, Irakles cut across him.
"But do not bother your pr- your head with such trivial past matters. I'm sure you have much more interesting things to do with your time, my boy. Besides....Your father was in agreement with the annexing. I do not think it is in your favor to question him."
Stephanos blinked. Had his uncle almost just referred to him as ‘pretty?’ Like a woman? He shook his head but the more Irakles spoke, the more agitated Stephanos became. “My father doesn’t mind the questions,” he said defensively. “I'm not speaking treason." That his uncle would even suggest that he, the son of the king, would speak against his own father made him angry. It was unfair but what was worse, was that he could sense Irakles dismissing all of his ideas out of hand. Growing desperate to make his point, he said,
"He just...doesn’t like this subject. And,” he stood now, pointing a finger at Irakles. “You agree with me. I know you do. Our right? You’re exactly right. That piece of land shouldn’t have been given away. What if-”
He left the chairs completely now, his hands held out as though he was holding his idea between them, like it was a ball. “What if a campaign were launched to get it back? Egypt is powerful not not what they once were. Surely they’re not a huge threat? Why give them land they didn’t earn? And can’t afford to keep?”
His eyes were shining now with the prospect. Of all the games that he and his brother and cousins played, their war games were easily his favorite. “I’m sure if you came with me, father would listen to you. My idea would have more merit. He and Zacharias are always telling me I should take a political interest. Well here it is. What do you say, Uncle? You’re his brother. He’ll listen to you.”
Stephanos was not privy to the agitation of the past between his father and uncle. It was not an open war between the brothers, but hidden. To him and to Zacharias, and even their mother, Irakles was the supportive younger brother he should have been. There was no ill will there. As for Zenon, he didn’t dwell on what he didn’t consider a threat.
Irakles had moved so that he was sitting not in his chair, but on the desk’s top. The way his features arranged themselves, in an attitude of complete concentration, made Stephanos feel as though Irakles understood him. But when he spoke, Stephanos felt himself growing irritated, as though his uncle was twisting things.
"I am surprised you would think that way, my boy."
“Why?” Shifting in his chair, Stephanos leaned forward. “It makes no sense unless we were under imminent attack. And then maybe. But I don’t know. Father won’t discuss it much. Said the subject was ‘closed’.” He made little finger gestures on the word ‘closed’ and looked away as though as frustrated with Irakles as he was with his father.
Irakles got up and walked toward a bookshelf. Stephanos followed him with his eyes only, pretending not to be interested but sitting up straighter anyway when his uncle took out a book. He read the title but it was a book with which he was unfamiliar.
"Perhaps you're right, Stephanos. The lands that were given away was our right as Taengeans."
“That’s what I was thinking-” Stephanos interjected. “But-”
Here, Irakles cut across him.
"But do not bother your pr- your head with such trivial past matters. I'm sure you have much more interesting things to do with your time, my boy. Besides....Your father was in agreement with the annexing. I do not think it is in your favor to question him."
Stephanos blinked. Had his uncle almost just referred to him as ‘pretty?’ Like a woman? He shook his head but the more Irakles spoke, the more agitated Stephanos became. “My father doesn’t mind the questions,” he said defensively. “I'm not speaking treason." That his uncle would even suggest that he, the son of the king, would speak against his own father made him angry. It was unfair but what was worse, was that he could sense Irakles dismissing all of his ideas out of hand. Growing desperate to make his point, he said,
"He just...doesn’t like this subject. And,” he stood now, pointing a finger at Irakles. “You agree with me. I know you do. Our right? You’re exactly right. That piece of land shouldn’t have been given away. What if-”
He left the chairs completely now, his hands held out as though he was holding his idea between them, like it was a ball. “What if a campaign were launched to get it back? Egypt is powerful not not what they once were. Surely they’re not a huge threat? Why give them land they didn’t earn? And can’t afford to keep?”
His eyes were shining now with the prospect. Of all the games that he and his brother and cousins played, their war games were easily his favorite. “I’m sure if you came with me, father would listen to you. My idea would have more merit. He and Zacharias are always telling me I should take a political interest. Well here it is. What do you say, Uncle? You’re his brother. He’ll listen to you.”
Stephanos was not privy to the agitation of the past between his father and uncle. It was not an open war between the brothers, but hidden. To him and to Zacharias, and even their mother, Irakles was the supportive younger brother he should have been. There was no ill will there. As for Zenon, he didn’t dwell on what he didn’t consider a threat.
The boy was restless, somehow. It was certainly a surprise to Irakles, to see young Stephanos the way he was now, when he had previously seemed completely unconcerned with what was happening in court and in the Senate. Did he suddenly have a growth spurt or did his maturity finally kick in? Whatever it was however, it had been too many years of watching him flounder around, for Irakles to trust Stephanos enough to say his true words, even if he was acting more like someone the elder male had hoped he would be, many years ago.
He does not mind the questions?
At that, Irakles paused mid-way through flipping past the page of the book, and flicked his gaze up. The deep hazel irises belied no emotion, but irritation flared within him. Of course Zenon did not mind the questions. It was his son. Yet when Irakles tried to ask on why the decision had been made, not just on the annexe of Taengea to Egypt, but of many other situations where an alternate solution was taken, Zenon had all but told him to shut his mouth and take his opinions away.
His jaw hardened at Stephanos's suggestion. His nephew was foolish, very much so. He seemed to have a childish notion that just because he played the part of the dutiful second brother, one who bowed to Zenon's every wish, that his brother would actually listen to him. Had Irakles been alone, he would have laughed at the absurd notion.
Instead, he simply snapped the book shut with a loud thud, and placed it on the table. Getting off where he had been perched on the edge, Irakles wore a slow smile, and shook his head. "Your father has very different opinions on how the kingdom should be run. He will not listen to anyone, much less me." It was the first time Irakles had shown that there was a dissent between himself and his elder half-sibling. In court and in the view of others, Irakles played the part of the perfect sibling, never once going against Zenon's words, even when it involved taking away the glory he would gain from gaining land through battle.
He shut up. But that did not mean he was happy about it.
"Tis a matter between us, and something you should not bother yourself of, Stephanos. Return to what you enjoy most, and leave the serious matters to us, now shall we?" he murmured, in a tone that obviously was meant to dismiss the younger second prince. Pity, if he had shown such prowress much earlier, Irakles would have gladly taken Stephanos under his wing and taught the boy plenty that he should know. But not now. No longer was he interested in turning around the playboy friend.
Turning away from the young one, he strolled back to his seat behind the desk, and picked up one of the parchments he had been sent for review, intending to reply the missive and looking for all intents as if whatever they had to discuss was done for the day.
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The boy was restless, somehow. It was certainly a surprise to Irakles, to see young Stephanos the way he was now, when he had previously seemed completely unconcerned with what was happening in court and in the Senate. Did he suddenly have a growth spurt or did his maturity finally kick in? Whatever it was however, it had been too many years of watching him flounder around, for Irakles to trust Stephanos enough to say his true words, even if he was acting more like someone the elder male had hoped he would be, many years ago.
He does not mind the questions?
At that, Irakles paused mid-way through flipping past the page of the book, and flicked his gaze up. The deep hazel irises belied no emotion, but irritation flared within him. Of course Zenon did not mind the questions. It was his son. Yet when Irakles tried to ask on why the decision had been made, not just on the annexe of Taengea to Egypt, but of many other situations where an alternate solution was taken, Zenon had all but told him to shut his mouth and take his opinions away.
His jaw hardened at Stephanos's suggestion. His nephew was foolish, very much so. He seemed to have a childish notion that just because he played the part of the dutiful second brother, one who bowed to Zenon's every wish, that his brother would actually listen to him. Had Irakles been alone, he would have laughed at the absurd notion.
Instead, he simply snapped the book shut with a loud thud, and placed it on the table. Getting off where he had been perched on the edge, Irakles wore a slow smile, and shook his head. "Your father has very different opinions on how the kingdom should be run. He will not listen to anyone, much less me." It was the first time Irakles had shown that there was a dissent between himself and his elder half-sibling. In court and in the view of others, Irakles played the part of the perfect sibling, never once going against Zenon's words, even when it involved taking away the glory he would gain from gaining land through battle.
He shut up. But that did not mean he was happy about it.
"Tis a matter between us, and something you should not bother yourself of, Stephanos. Return to what you enjoy most, and leave the serious matters to us, now shall we?" he murmured, in a tone that obviously was meant to dismiss the younger second prince. Pity, if he had shown such prowress much earlier, Irakles would have gladly taken Stephanos under his wing and taught the boy plenty that he should know. But not now. No longer was he interested in turning around the playboy friend.
Turning away from the young one, he strolled back to his seat behind the desk, and picked up one of the parchments he had been sent for review, intending to reply the missive and looking for all intents as if whatever they had to discuss was done for the day.
The boy was restless, somehow. It was certainly a surprise to Irakles, to see young Stephanos the way he was now, when he had previously seemed completely unconcerned with what was happening in court and in the Senate. Did he suddenly have a growth spurt or did his maturity finally kick in? Whatever it was however, it had been too many years of watching him flounder around, for Irakles to trust Stephanos enough to say his true words, even if he was acting more like someone the elder male had hoped he would be, many years ago.
He does not mind the questions?
At that, Irakles paused mid-way through flipping past the page of the book, and flicked his gaze up. The deep hazel irises belied no emotion, but irritation flared within him. Of course Zenon did not mind the questions. It was his son. Yet when Irakles tried to ask on why the decision had been made, not just on the annexe of Taengea to Egypt, but of many other situations where an alternate solution was taken, Zenon had all but told him to shut his mouth and take his opinions away.
His jaw hardened at Stephanos's suggestion. His nephew was foolish, very much so. He seemed to have a childish notion that just because he played the part of the dutiful second brother, one who bowed to Zenon's every wish, that his brother would actually listen to him. Had Irakles been alone, he would have laughed at the absurd notion.
Instead, he simply snapped the book shut with a loud thud, and placed it on the table. Getting off where he had been perched on the edge, Irakles wore a slow smile, and shook his head. "Your father has very different opinions on how the kingdom should be run. He will not listen to anyone, much less me." It was the first time Irakles had shown that there was a dissent between himself and his elder half-sibling. In court and in the view of others, Irakles played the part of the perfect sibling, never once going against Zenon's words, even when it involved taking away the glory he would gain from gaining land through battle.
He shut up. But that did not mean he was happy about it.
"Tis a matter between us, and something you should not bother yourself of, Stephanos. Return to what you enjoy most, and leave the serious matters to us, now shall we?" he murmured, in a tone that obviously was meant to dismiss the younger second prince. Pity, if he had shown such prowress much earlier, Irakles would have gladly taken Stephanos under his wing and taught the boy plenty that he should know. But not now. No longer was he interested in turning around the playboy friend.
Turning away from the young one, he strolled back to his seat behind the desk, and picked up one of the parchments he had been sent for review, intending to reply the missive and looking for all intents as if whatever they had to discuss was done for the day.
The mood in the room subtly shifted, almost imperceptible enough to make him think he’d imagined it. Irakles’s flat stare betrayed his lack of good humor. Stephanos realized he’d hit a nerve but he wasn’t entirely sure with which part. It couldn’t be war. His uncle was a military man.
Stephanos chewed the inside of his lip as Irakles clenched his jaw and snapped his book shut. His uncle stood but instead of following his movements, he watched the place where the book sat. It was of such a volume as he would never read unless forced. Already he was proving competent with the elements of combat. The ins and outs of theories? He had no time for. His experience would guide him; not dusty tomes that no one remembered existed.
With a cold smile, Irakles revealed, in no uncertain terms, that he would not help him. A frown creased Stephanos’s brow. He narrowed his eyes as an incredulous grin crossed his features. “You’re not serious?” he couldn’t quite believe that his uncle wouldn’t take this right to Zenon. They were brothers. They could talk about things, surely?
He might have argued further now that the original point of his visit was lost. What he’d wanted was to discuss questions with the person who would have been most able to answer them; should have readily done so. All they’d done up to this point was stymie each other. This was new.
Once again, Irakles dismissed him, treating him as though he was a child. He was not and had not been for, what felt to him, a long time. Hurt pride sizzled in his chest. Stiffly he nodded but he gave his uncle an icy stare as he did so. What had brought about such a change? Or was there a change at all?
He turned away, trying to pin down an exact moment that Irakles had ever been especially kind to him and found, to his shock, that there wasn’t any. In fact, this treatment was nothing out of the ordinary. Irakles always dismissed him but it had never mattered before because the topics were always superficial. Until today.
Yet even when he’d come to him seeking real advice and trying to do something with real meaning for once, his uncle dismissed him out of hand, not once, but twice; this the final time. Stephanos stood, unwilling to go, awkwardly staring angry at the older man behind the desk. He wondered if he stayed like this all afternoon, if Irakles would keep ignoring him.
Pride kept him in place far longer than was comfortable but at last, burning with indignation and confusion, Stephanos finally turned and left. He stalked out of the study for the final time. His presence would never be felt in that room again and he took with him any cordial feelings of good will that he’d ever had for Irakles. It was the tiny, almost insignificant beginning of what would become a bloody hatred.
For now, it was a simply marr on what had promised to be a bright day full of possibility, an ember that would be fanned with each gust of ill wind Irakles sent him.
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.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The mood in the room subtly shifted, almost imperceptible enough to make him think he’d imagined it. Irakles’s flat stare betrayed his lack of good humor. Stephanos realized he’d hit a nerve but he wasn’t entirely sure with which part. It couldn’t be war. His uncle was a military man.
Stephanos chewed the inside of his lip as Irakles clenched his jaw and snapped his book shut. His uncle stood but instead of following his movements, he watched the place where the book sat. It was of such a volume as he would never read unless forced. Already he was proving competent with the elements of combat. The ins and outs of theories? He had no time for. His experience would guide him; not dusty tomes that no one remembered existed.
With a cold smile, Irakles revealed, in no uncertain terms, that he would not help him. A frown creased Stephanos’s brow. He narrowed his eyes as an incredulous grin crossed his features. “You’re not serious?” he couldn’t quite believe that his uncle wouldn’t take this right to Zenon. They were brothers. They could talk about things, surely?
He might have argued further now that the original point of his visit was lost. What he’d wanted was to discuss questions with the person who would have been most able to answer them; should have readily done so. All they’d done up to this point was stymie each other. This was new.
Once again, Irakles dismissed him, treating him as though he was a child. He was not and had not been for, what felt to him, a long time. Hurt pride sizzled in his chest. Stiffly he nodded but he gave his uncle an icy stare as he did so. What had brought about such a change? Or was there a change at all?
He turned away, trying to pin down an exact moment that Irakles had ever been especially kind to him and found, to his shock, that there wasn’t any. In fact, this treatment was nothing out of the ordinary. Irakles always dismissed him but it had never mattered before because the topics were always superficial. Until today.
Yet even when he’d come to him seeking real advice and trying to do something with real meaning for once, his uncle dismissed him out of hand, not once, but twice; this the final time. Stephanos stood, unwilling to go, awkwardly staring angry at the older man behind the desk. He wondered if he stayed like this all afternoon, if Irakles would keep ignoring him.
Pride kept him in place far longer than was comfortable but at last, burning with indignation and confusion, Stephanos finally turned and left. He stalked out of the study for the final time. His presence would never be felt in that room again and he took with him any cordial feelings of good will that he’d ever had for Irakles. It was the tiny, almost insignificant beginning of what would become a bloody hatred.
For now, it was a simply marr on what had promised to be a bright day full of possibility, an ember that would be fanned with each gust of ill wind Irakles sent him.
The mood in the room subtly shifted, almost imperceptible enough to make him think he’d imagined it. Irakles’s flat stare betrayed his lack of good humor. Stephanos realized he’d hit a nerve but he wasn’t entirely sure with which part. It couldn’t be war. His uncle was a military man.
Stephanos chewed the inside of his lip as Irakles clenched his jaw and snapped his book shut. His uncle stood but instead of following his movements, he watched the place where the book sat. It was of such a volume as he would never read unless forced. Already he was proving competent with the elements of combat. The ins and outs of theories? He had no time for. His experience would guide him; not dusty tomes that no one remembered existed.
With a cold smile, Irakles revealed, in no uncertain terms, that he would not help him. A frown creased Stephanos’s brow. He narrowed his eyes as an incredulous grin crossed his features. “You’re not serious?” he couldn’t quite believe that his uncle wouldn’t take this right to Zenon. They were brothers. They could talk about things, surely?
He might have argued further now that the original point of his visit was lost. What he’d wanted was to discuss questions with the person who would have been most able to answer them; should have readily done so. All they’d done up to this point was stymie each other. This was new.
Once again, Irakles dismissed him, treating him as though he was a child. He was not and had not been for, what felt to him, a long time. Hurt pride sizzled in his chest. Stiffly he nodded but he gave his uncle an icy stare as he did so. What had brought about such a change? Or was there a change at all?
He turned away, trying to pin down an exact moment that Irakles had ever been especially kind to him and found, to his shock, that there wasn’t any. In fact, this treatment was nothing out of the ordinary. Irakles always dismissed him but it had never mattered before because the topics were always superficial. Until today.
Yet even when he’d come to him seeking real advice and trying to do something with real meaning for once, his uncle dismissed him out of hand, not once, but twice; this the final time. Stephanos stood, unwilling to go, awkwardly staring angry at the older man behind the desk. He wondered if he stayed like this all afternoon, if Irakles would keep ignoring him.
Pride kept him in place far longer than was comfortable but at last, burning with indignation and confusion, Stephanos finally turned and left. He stalked out of the study for the final time. His presence would never be felt in that room again and he took with him any cordial feelings of good will that he’d ever had for Irakles. It was the tiny, almost insignificant beginning of what would become a bloody hatred.
For now, it was a simply marr on what had promised to be a bright day full of possibility, an ember that would be fanned with each gust of ill wind Irakles sent him.
