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Lesley nodded when the princess declined his offer of escort; he'd expected that, though it had been an honest offer, too. He didn't miss the blush, but he didn't think anything of it either - he was quite used to everything from blushes to straight-up offers, and rarely tempted to do anything except ignore it. Some women just thought gladiators were Aphrodite's gift to women, or something... He was old and used to it enough now to no longer find it uncomfortably awkward.
"I'm sure my mother would be honored," he replied to the question of whether Riona would be willing to bring her fabrics up to the palati. When Iris asked if he would accompany her there, that teasing glint sparked in his eyes again. "Of course, if it is asked of me by the lady Xanthos... I am ever at the service of Athens." It sounded, for the first time, like how one expected a princess to be addressed, almost a flattering courtier's words - but somehow, from him, it sounded cheeky. "If you have no more need of me today, though, I should get myself to the baths." He held out his hand for the return of his staff, bowed - not deeply enough - and turned without waiting for any sort of dismissal.
He spun the staff once, swinging it up over his head to rest across his shoulders, and sauntered away with his wrists resting casually over the wood. At the door to the short hallway that led to the gladiators' living area and private baths, he set it aside, beside a rack of spears and tridents, and pulled his shirt over his head just before he was completely out of sight. Since all except the very, very oldest of his tattoos he'd done himself, and he very much knew better than to turn his back on an enemy and was damned hard to trick into it, it was arguably the handsomest view of him, nearly unmarred and only lightly tanned, hard muscle flexing across his broad shoulders in that single moment it was visible.
He might not care to do anything about a lady's blushes, but he certainly found them flattering enough to give her something.
He chuckled quietly to himself, silently acknowledging his own ego as he wiped the sweat from the back of his neck with the wadded up fabric before tossing it in the pile with everyone else's shed clothing and slipped down into blessedly cool mineral water. He wondered if Lady Iris had thought him equally attractive, but resigned himself to not knowing. She had a courtier's smooth tongue and reserved expression; he'd likely never know for sure unless she chose to tell him.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Lesley nodded when the princess declined his offer of escort; he'd expected that, though it had been an honest offer, too. He didn't miss the blush, but he didn't think anything of it either - he was quite used to everything from blushes to straight-up offers, and rarely tempted to do anything except ignore it. Some women just thought gladiators were Aphrodite's gift to women, or something... He was old and used to it enough now to no longer find it uncomfortably awkward.
"I'm sure my mother would be honored," he replied to the question of whether Riona would be willing to bring her fabrics up to the palati. When Iris asked if he would accompany her there, that teasing glint sparked in his eyes again. "Of course, if it is asked of me by the lady Xanthos... I am ever at the service of Athens." It sounded, for the first time, like how one expected a princess to be addressed, almost a flattering courtier's words - but somehow, from him, it sounded cheeky. "If you have no more need of me today, though, I should get myself to the baths." He held out his hand for the return of his staff, bowed - not deeply enough - and turned without waiting for any sort of dismissal.
He spun the staff once, swinging it up over his head to rest across his shoulders, and sauntered away with his wrists resting casually over the wood. At the door to the short hallway that led to the gladiators' living area and private baths, he set it aside, beside a rack of spears and tridents, and pulled his shirt over his head just before he was completely out of sight. Since all except the very, very oldest of his tattoos he'd done himself, and he very much knew better than to turn his back on an enemy and was damned hard to trick into it, it was arguably the handsomest view of him, nearly unmarred and only lightly tanned, hard muscle flexing across his broad shoulders in that single moment it was visible.
He might not care to do anything about a lady's blushes, but he certainly found them flattering enough to give her something.
He chuckled quietly to himself, silently acknowledging his own ego as he wiped the sweat from the back of his neck with the wadded up fabric before tossing it in the pile with everyone else's shed clothing and slipped down into blessedly cool mineral water. He wondered if Lady Iris had thought him equally attractive, but resigned himself to not knowing. She had a courtier's smooth tongue and reserved expression; he'd likely never know for sure unless she chose to tell him.
Lesley nodded when the princess declined his offer of escort; he'd expected that, though it had been an honest offer, too. He didn't miss the blush, but he didn't think anything of it either - he was quite used to everything from blushes to straight-up offers, and rarely tempted to do anything except ignore it. Some women just thought gladiators were Aphrodite's gift to women, or something... He was old and used to it enough now to no longer find it uncomfortably awkward.
"I'm sure my mother would be honored," he replied to the question of whether Riona would be willing to bring her fabrics up to the palati. When Iris asked if he would accompany her there, that teasing glint sparked in his eyes again. "Of course, if it is asked of me by the lady Xanthos... I am ever at the service of Athens." It sounded, for the first time, like how one expected a princess to be addressed, almost a flattering courtier's words - but somehow, from him, it sounded cheeky. "If you have no more need of me today, though, I should get myself to the baths." He held out his hand for the return of his staff, bowed - not deeply enough - and turned without waiting for any sort of dismissal.
He spun the staff once, swinging it up over his head to rest across his shoulders, and sauntered away with his wrists resting casually over the wood. At the door to the short hallway that led to the gladiators' living area and private baths, he set it aside, beside a rack of spears and tridents, and pulled his shirt over his head just before he was completely out of sight. Since all except the very, very oldest of his tattoos he'd done himself, and he very much knew better than to turn his back on an enemy and was damned hard to trick into it, it was arguably the handsomest view of him, nearly unmarred and only lightly tanned, hard muscle flexing across his broad shoulders in that single moment it was visible.
He might not care to do anything about a lady's blushes, but he certainly found them flattering enough to give her something.
He chuckled quietly to himself, silently acknowledging his own ego as he wiped the sweat from the back of his neck with the wadded up fabric before tossing it in the pile with everyone else's shed clothing and slipped down into blessedly cool mineral water. He wondered if Lady Iris had thought him equally attractive, but resigned himself to not knowing. She had a courtier's smooth tongue and reserved expression; he'd likely never know for sure unless she chose to tell him.
The words were flattering yes, but Emilia was a sucker for them. It was why she was such an easy target, and why her father was strict as to who his daughter's eventually married, most of all Emilia. If the young princess had her way, she would've been married five times over by now, yet Midas's requirements meant she was still a Xanthos yet for now. But she was quickly approaching an age to be married however, and Emilia was growing increasingly aware that she would no longer have the freedom for much longer.
Her eyes flickered down to the staff she had forgotten she held, and momentarily, Emilia stared at it. It was something she had wielded with no true knowledge of what it actually meant, but seeing as the gladiator wanted it back, the young princess assumed it was actually important.
Looking back at the gladiator, she only hesitated for a moment, before handing it back to his outstretched hands with a smile. "The baths sound like a wonderful idea indeed, Lesley." she murmured with only a hint of a tease. Her fingers briefly brushed against his palms, and Emilia noted how his was a few degrees warmer then her own slender, pale fingers, before she retracted her hands just as quickly.
With no other words, Emilia watched as they left, her flush reddening when the man she had been speaking to just a few moments earlier slipped his shirt off him, giving Emilia a view of a very bare back indeed. Still sixteen and fresh to court (for a year seeemd very short to her indeed), Emilia had to gulp the lump that formed in her throat at the view, before murmuring to Iris.
"Let's get going, Lady Iris. My sister would be wondering where I am." Turning on her heel, Emilia tossed one last look where the gladiator had disappeared, and started off towards where her slave and guard stood waiting. She would arrange for Riona to visit the palace at a late date, and there was no doubt that Emilia would be a wonderful customer to the woman, for the princess was known to buy out a whole shop if she had a particularly liking for a material.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The words were flattering yes, but Emilia was a sucker for them. It was why she was such an easy target, and why her father was strict as to who his daughter's eventually married, most of all Emilia. If the young princess had her way, she would've been married five times over by now, yet Midas's requirements meant she was still a Xanthos yet for now. But she was quickly approaching an age to be married however, and Emilia was growing increasingly aware that she would no longer have the freedom for much longer.
Her eyes flickered down to the staff she had forgotten she held, and momentarily, Emilia stared at it. It was something she had wielded with no true knowledge of what it actually meant, but seeing as the gladiator wanted it back, the young princess assumed it was actually important.
Looking back at the gladiator, she only hesitated for a moment, before handing it back to his outstretched hands with a smile. "The baths sound like a wonderful idea indeed, Lesley." she murmured with only a hint of a tease. Her fingers briefly brushed against his palms, and Emilia noted how his was a few degrees warmer then her own slender, pale fingers, before she retracted her hands just as quickly.
With no other words, Emilia watched as they left, her flush reddening when the man she had been speaking to just a few moments earlier slipped his shirt off him, giving Emilia a view of a very bare back indeed. Still sixteen and fresh to court (for a year seeemd very short to her indeed), Emilia had to gulp the lump that formed in her throat at the view, before murmuring to Iris.
"Let's get going, Lady Iris. My sister would be wondering where I am." Turning on her heel, Emilia tossed one last look where the gladiator had disappeared, and started off towards where her slave and guard stood waiting. She would arrange for Riona to visit the palace at a late date, and there was no doubt that Emilia would be a wonderful customer to the woman, for the princess was known to buy out a whole shop if she had a particularly liking for a material.
The words were flattering yes, but Emilia was a sucker for them. It was why she was such an easy target, and why her father was strict as to who his daughter's eventually married, most of all Emilia. If the young princess had her way, she would've been married five times over by now, yet Midas's requirements meant she was still a Xanthos yet for now. But she was quickly approaching an age to be married however, and Emilia was growing increasingly aware that she would no longer have the freedom for much longer.
Her eyes flickered down to the staff she had forgotten she held, and momentarily, Emilia stared at it. It was something she had wielded with no true knowledge of what it actually meant, but seeing as the gladiator wanted it back, the young princess assumed it was actually important.
Looking back at the gladiator, she only hesitated for a moment, before handing it back to his outstretched hands with a smile. "The baths sound like a wonderful idea indeed, Lesley." she murmured with only a hint of a tease. Her fingers briefly brushed against his palms, and Emilia noted how his was a few degrees warmer then her own slender, pale fingers, before she retracted her hands just as quickly.
With no other words, Emilia watched as they left, her flush reddening when the man she had been speaking to just a few moments earlier slipped his shirt off him, giving Emilia a view of a very bare back indeed. Still sixteen and fresh to court (for a year seeemd very short to her indeed), Emilia had to gulp the lump that formed in her throat at the view, before murmuring to Iris.
"Let's get going, Lady Iris. My sister would be wondering where I am." Turning on her heel, Emilia tossed one last look where the gladiator had disappeared, and started off towards where her slave and guard stood waiting. She would arrange for Riona to visit the palace at a late date, and there was no doubt that Emilia would be a wonderful customer to the woman, for the princess was known to buy out a whole shop if she had a particularly liking for a material.
Iris found her hands resting comfortably behind her back, her gaze on the gladiator and the princess. He spoke eloquently for a man of his stature and appearance, which was somewhat offputting to the lady, though she spoke nothing on the observation. She was pleased that he was so open and respectful toward Emilia, so Iris truly had no complaints nor intentions to tell Princess Persephone where her little sister had gotten off to.
It was truly not her business and she couldn't help but allow the princess her own bit of fun. Even if Iris was intent to remain by her side just in case the princess needed someone to talk her out of a rather hairy situation. She was aware of how men could be, though Lesley did not seem to have much interest, if any, in trying to woo the princess past simple niceties and polite chatter.
Good. That was better than how a nobleman might react to a young princess who could easily put them in line for the throne just through marriage. One of the many reasons that Iris was intent on not marrying from the noble and somewhat hedonistic pool of Athenian suitors. All of the swaggering and posturing was too much for her temper to take.
Iris waited patiently for the man to walk off, openly staring when he pulled his shirt over his head and walked back into his own living area. But then she tore her gaze away, silently wondering if he had done it simply because the princess had seemed to admire his body. Gods, she was so young and Iris herself remembered that initial fluttering of her heart and the heating of her cheeks when she was first introduced to court. The lady silently hoped that maybe Emilia would grow more immune to the wiles of men if only to protect herself from heartbreak after heartbreak.
When Emilia gave her the order for them to leave, Iris gave a curt nod, "Of course, your highness," she commented softly, not arguing with the young woman as she followed her across the sandy arena. Iris glanced behind her to make sure that Acantha followed as well, soon depositing the princess with her slave and her guard. "I am remiss to part, my princess, but you have found your escort and I am needed back at my home. It would please me to meet with you again," Iris offered gently. Assuming the princess would contact her on her own time, if at all, Iris and Acantha both gave firm bows and then turned back in the direction of their home and the journey back up to the higher levels of the city.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Iris found her hands resting comfortably behind her back, her gaze on the gladiator and the princess. He spoke eloquently for a man of his stature and appearance, which was somewhat offputting to the lady, though she spoke nothing on the observation. She was pleased that he was so open and respectful toward Emilia, so Iris truly had no complaints nor intentions to tell Princess Persephone where her little sister had gotten off to.
It was truly not her business and she couldn't help but allow the princess her own bit of fun. Even if Iris was intent to remain by her side just in case the princess needed someone to talk her out of a rather hairy situation. She was aware of how men could be, though Lesley did not seem to have much interest, if any, in trying to woo the princess past simple niceties and polite chatter.
Good. That was better than how a nobleman might react to a young princess who could easily put them in line for the throne just through marriage. One of the many reasons that Iris was intent on not marrying from the noble and somewhat hedonistic pool of Athenian suitors. All of the swaggering and posturing was too much for her temper to take.
Iris waited patiently for the man to walk off, openly staring when he pulled his shirt over his head and walked back into his own living area. But then she tore her gaze away, silently wondering if he had done it simply because the princess had seemed to admire his body. Gods, she was so young and Iris herself remembered that initial fluttering of her heart and the heating of her cheeks when she was first introduced to court. The lady silently hoped that maybe Emilia would grow more immune to the wiles of men if only to protect herself from heartbreak after heartbreak.
When Emilia gave her the order for them to leave, Iris gave a curt nod, "Of course, your highness," she commented softly, not arguing with the young woman as she followed her across the sandy arena. Iris glanced behind her to make sure that Acantha followed as well, soon depositing the princess with her slave and her guard. "I am remiss to part, my princess, but you have found your escort and I am needed back at my home. It would please me to meet with you again," Iris offered gently. Assuming the princess would contact her on her own time, if at all, Iris and Acantha both gave firm bows and then turned back in the direction of their home and the journey back up to the higher levels of the city.
Iris found her hands resting comfortably behind her back, her gaze on the gladiator and the princess. He spoke eloquently for a man of his stature and appearance, which was somewhat offputting to the lady, though she spoke nothing on the observation. She was pleased that he was so open and respectful toward Emilia, so Iris truly had no complaints nor intentions to tell Princess Persephone where her little sister had gotten off to.
It was truly not her business and she couldn't help but allow the princess her own bit of fun. Even if Iris was intent to remain by her side just in case the princess needed someone to talk her out of a rather hairy situation. She was aware of how men could be, though Lesley did not seem to have much interest, if any, in trying to woo the princess past simple niceties and polite chatter.
Good. That was better than how a nobleman might react to a young princess who could easily put them in line for the throne just through marriage. One of the many reasons that Iris was intent on not marrying from the noble and somewhat hedonistic pool of Athenian suitors. All of the swaggering and posturing was too much for her temper to take.
Iris waited patiently for the man to walk off, openly staring when he pulled his shirt over his head and walked back into his own living area. But then she tore her gaze away, silently wondering if he had done it simply because the princess had seemed to admire his body. Gods, she was so young and Iris herself remembered that initial fluttering of her heart and the heating of her cheeks when she was first introduced to court. The lady silently hoped that maybe Emilia would grow more immune to the wiles of men if only to protect herself from heartbreak after heartbreak.
When Emilia gave her the order for them to leave, Iris gave a curt nod, "Of course, your highness," she commented softly, not arguing with the young woman as she followed her across the sandy arena. Iris glanced behind her to make sure that Acantha followed as well, soon depositing the princess with her slave and her guard. "I am remiss to part, my princess, but you have found your escort and I am needed back at my home. It would please me to meet with you again," Iris offered gently. Assuming the princess would contact her on her own time, if at all, Iris and Acantha both gave firm bows and then turned back in the direction of their home and the journey back up to the higher levels of the city.