Mihail did not understand idiocy. He could not comprehend how anybody would not wish to use their mental capacity to its extent, nor how anybody could settle for anything less than ideal. And yet, still, so many continued to astound him with their foolish words and ill-thought-out plans, often blamed on drink or other mind-altering substances. And yet, how could they be? For the youngest Thanasi was no stranger to any of those addictive vices, and yet did not find that his thought process was excessively flustered by it. For the most part, it made him sometimes thirsty, often irritable and generally languid, but he did not think he lost much of his intelligence (rather, he was of the mind that many of his best ideas tended to come to him when he was under the influence of some drug or another).

But some did not take well to their wine.

Some would drink more of the sweet liquid than suited them and would end up running about the place half-dazed as though they had forgotten all sense of propriety, making foolish comments where they were worst placed, and upsetting everybody who crossed their path. Some would think themselves geniuses when they were the certain opposite, and find no limit to how much frustration they could cause with their mindless babbling. Some would think it appropriate to appear at court in such a horrid state accompanied by a pair of untrained hounds that appeared ready to kill whichever incautious noble accidentally passed too close. The entire situation was a shambles and an embarrassment.

Still, the Thanasi tended not to interact with such lost causes. He had his own ‘friends’ with whom he preferred to associate at these events, and who were infinitely less dull. Atalanta and Leontios, at least, were well-versed in most subjects that the dark-haired lord enjoyed, and did not require him to expel unwanted efforts in considering topics of conversation that appealed to others. They were complacent in the manner that he liked best, and it made them excellent company.

Today, Mihail found himself in one of those situations when the attendance of his two most-trusted companions served him well. Leontios, he imagined, must have spent his invite of a guest on poor Atalanta (who was less able to attend otherwise — a merchant’s daughter did not usually possess the same access to court as those of higher social standing), which was lucky, since the Thanasi had chosen to use his on the only individual he considered worthy of all his attention, not that he would have wasted it there anyhow. Draco was likely forbidden from the event under normal circumstances, but who cared what the rules said when he looked so gorgeous draped around Mihail’s shoulders and only appeared a life-size version of the delicately embroidered snakes that made pretty patterns over the crimson fabric of his chiton’s hem and waist. The other two had coincidentally chosen some lighter shades of sea green and teal respectively, both of which served to highlight his darker outfit exceptionally well, and he was feeling elegant and appreciated all at once.

“Do fetch me some wine,” he told Leontios by way of greeting, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of one of the passing servants, whose tray was laden with delicious goblets of the drink. Perhaps considered rude, but what did it matter if the man thought him so when he was so certain he was the leader of their little trio? Only once the man had returned with the wine and Mihail had taken a long sip to satiate his thirst fully, did he speak again, his spare hand reaching to stroke the viper’s head gently. “Who do we have today?”

There were plenty of lords and ladies who were thoroughly humiliating themselves, whether they were aware of it or not. That Nethisan baron, so often idiotic in his comments but so willing to succumb to his Thanasi lieges’ whims, was currently babbling away to some lady who looked vastly uninterested but was clearly only maintaining the conversation for the politeness. Elsewhere, someone had clearly snuck in a most unfashionable common friend of theirs and not offered them any kind of memorandum on appropriate wear for the event, resulting in some less-than-fine chiton wandering around the grand hall and repeatedly wiping noticeably sweat-covered hands on the front of it as though it were acceptable. And that Eliades lord, as ever, bumbling about so clearly intoxicated that it was a wonder he had been admitted at all, attached to those horrid hounds of his as if entering court with a pair of untrained beasts was remotely normal. Honestly, Mihail could not understand the gall of some people.

Atalanta had pointed out that ill-placed lowborn girl with a light snicker and a generic comment on how they were letting anybody into court these days, which the Thanasi had thought ironic. Still, his lips had curled into that amused side-smirk so typical to him, responding with a casual “they let you in” that received a glare from the girl but a chuckle from Leontios. One could never please everybody, and he had no intention of doing so. It was a triviality in the grand scheme of things.

“Come,” he told them, leading away towards Mikael, less fearful of the dogs when he had the comfort of a duo beside him. “I do think Lord Eliades is ready to suffer the consequences of his decisions.” Ready or not, it would be amusing at least.

Mihail approached with that smug sneer still resting on his features, resting his dainty-painted fingertips on his waist. The other two followed, a step behind because he had a habit of being so needlessly fussy about such matters (a trait that had persisted for most of his life). He raised a disdainful eyebrow at the noticeably drunk man, looking him up and down as he passed his goblet back to his friend and adjusted the silver cuff on his wrist. “Mikael,” he sang, half-mocking the other’s obviously inferior version of his own name. “It is darling to see you could take some time out of a tavern to join us this afternoon, no? A shame you chose to remain in such a ghastly ensemble but, well, some cannot help poverty, I suppose.” He gave an over-dramatic sigh, the pause intended for the expected and produced giggles from both of his companions before he added: “I could never have the courage to dress as down as you.”