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It is two days before the scheduled attack on the Creed's enclave to the north of the capitol of Vasiliadon, and while tensions are running high in the upper classes where those are already in the knowledge that they whom they love might soon be fighting for their lives, the lower classes live on in blissful ignorance, attending to the yearly cycle as is their way. With the approaching of the end of the summer, sons and nephews return to their family homes in Taengea in order to prepare for the extra labour hands required for the reaping of the harvest. Friends and family congregate together in the main market place of the city, eager to pick up the wears and provisions they'll need for the coming weeks, while also enjoying each others' company for, for some, the first time in months.
JD
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JD
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It is two days before the scheduled attack on the Creed's enclave to the north of the capitol of Vasiliadon, and while tensions are running high in the upper classes where those are already in the knowledge that they whom they love might soon be fighting for their lives, the lower classes live on in blissful ignorance, attending to the yearly cycle as is their way. With the approaching of the end of the summer, sons and nephews return to their family homes in Taengea in order to prepare for the extra labour hands required for the reaping of the harvest. Friends and family congregate together in the main market place of the city, eager to pick up the wears and provisions they'll need for the coming weeks, while also enjoying each others' company for, for some, the first time in months.
Home For The Harvest Event - Taengea
It is two days before the scheduled attack on the Creed's enclave to the north of the capitol of Vasiliadon, and while tensions are running high in the upper classes where those are already in the knowledge that they whom they love might soon be fighting for their lives, the lower classes live on in blissful ignorance, attending to the yearly cycle as is their way. With the approaching of the end of the summer, sons and nephews return to their family homes in Taengea in order to prepare for the extra labour hands required for the reaping of the harvest. Friends and family congregate together in the main market place of the city, eager to pick up the wears and provisions they'll need for the coming weeks, while also enjoying each others' company for, for some, the first time in months.
For the first time ever since she had came to Taengea, Vasiliadon especially, Zenais felt... oddly enough, it felt like she was back in Colchis. To call it home seemed odd, considering she hadn't seen the rocky outcropping of her birth kingdom in almost a decade now. But to call Vasiliadon and Taengea home seemed off to. Zenais had felt like she had been in transient over the past ten years, not really belonging here nor there. And that would, in large part, explain why she tended to keep to the shadows.
The tension in the city seemed odd, as Zenais made her way throug the capitol in the late evening as the people returned for what the Colchian-born maiden now knew as the yearly harvest. It was when people returned to help labor the fields in preparation for the coming winter, and families reunite in a time where they were needed more at home then elsewhere. The main market place was busiest at this time, and merchants and vendors alike took advantage of the fact, with many more stalls popping up like mushrooms after the rainy season.
Navigating the mass of bodies was still a feat, despite the weather cooling down as the months turned. The summer months were the worst, the heat almost unbearable. While Zenais did not fancy winter, neither did she enjoy summer. The brunette much preferred regular weather, spring or autum in where it was cooling, but the heat of sun would linger.
But the tension was still odd.
Bits and bobs of conversations meant that Zenais soon learned of the reason - some of the men returning home did not come simply for the harvest. Instead, the royal troops were scheduled to leave in a couple of days, meaning they would instead be spending the next few days gearing up for a fight against the Creed. While Zenais had not been near the Circus during the attack, she had been a victim of the tavern locking down while the Creed ran all over the city. Of course, being in the Lower Levels meant the nobility-attacking faction bypassed them entirely, but that didn't mean she was entirely unafraid.
So her steps and gaze were cautious as she wandered through the market in her rough, green peplos, a himation drawn over it. For once, a rare occasion, she left her hood of her himation down, enjoying the caress of Apollo's sun on her cheeks as she picked up at a conch shell, marvelling at the iridescent colors reflecting the setting sun.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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For the first time ever since she had came to Taengea, Vasiliadon especially, Zenais felt... oddly enough, it felt like she was back in Colchis. To call it home seemed odd, considering she hadn't seen the rocky outcropping of her birth kingdom in almost a decade now. But to call Vasiliadon and Taengea home seemed off to. Zenais had felt like she had been in transient over the past ten years, not really belonging here nor there. And that would, in large part, explain why she tended to keep to the shadows.
The tension in the city seemed odd, as Zenais made her way throug the capitol in the late evening as the people returned for what the Colchian-born maiden now knew as the yearly harvest. It was when people returned to help labor the fields in preparation for the coming winter, and families reunite in a time where they were needed more at home then elsewhere. The main market place was busiest at this time, and merchants and vendors alike took advantage of the fact, with many more stalls popping up like mushrooms after the rainy season.
Navigating the mass of bodies was still a feat, despite the weather cooling down as the months turned. The summer months were the worst, the heat almost unbearable. While Zenais did not fancy winter, neither did she enjoy summer. The brunette much preferred regular weather, spring or autum in where it was cooling, but the heat of sun would linger.
But the tension was still odd.
Bits and bobs of conversations meant that Zenais soon learned of the reason - some of the men returning home did not come simply for the harvest. Instead, the royal troops were scheduled to leave in a couple of days, meaning they would instead be spending the next few days gearing up for a fight against the Creed. While Zenais had not been near the Circus during the attack, she had been a victim of the tavern locking down while the Creed ran all over the city. Of course, being in the Lower Levels meant the nobility-attacking faction bypassed them entirely, but that didn't mean she was entirely unafraid.
So her steps and gaze were cautious as she wandered through the market in her rough, green peplos, a himation drawn over it. For once, a rare occasion, she left her hood of her himation down, enjoying the caress of Apollo's sun on her cheeks as she picked up at a conch shell, marvelling at the iridescent colors reflecting the setting sun.
For the first time ever since she had came to Taengea, Vasiliadon especially, Zenais felt... oddly enough, it felt like she was back in Colchis. To call it home seemed odd, considering she hadn't seen the rocky outcropping of her birth kingdom in almost a decade now. But to call Vasiliadon and Taengea home seemed off to. Zenais had felt like she had been in transient over the past ten years, not really belonging here nor there. And that would, in large part, explain why she tended to keep to the shadows.
The tension in the city seemed odd, as Zenais made her way throug the capitol in the late evening as the people returned for what the Colchian-born maiden now knew as the yearly harvest. It was when people returned to help labor the fields in preparation for the coming winter, and families reunite in a time where they were needed more at home then elsewhere. The main market place was busiest at this time, and merchants and vendors alike took advantage of the fact, with many more stalls popping up like mushrooms after the rainy season.
Navigating the mass of bodies was still a feat, despite the weather cooling down as the months turned. The summer months were the worst, the heat almost unbearable. While Zenais did not fancy winter, neither did she enjoy summer. The brunette much preferred regular weather, spring or autum in where it was cooling, but the heat of sun would linger.
But the tension was still odd.
Bits and bobs of conversations meant that Zenais soon learned of the reason - some of the men returning home did not come simply for the harvest. Instead, the royal troops were scheduled to leave in a couple of days, meaning they would instead be spending the next few days gearing up for a fight against the Creed. While Zenais had not been near the Circus during the attack, she had been a victim of the tavern locking down while the Creed ran all over the city. Of course, being in the Lower Levels meant the nobility-attacking faction bypassed them entirely, but that didn't mean she was entirely unafraid.
So her steps and gaze were cautious as she wandered through the market in her rough, green peplos, a himation drawn over it. For once, a rare occasion, she left her hood of her himation down, enjoying the caress of Apollo's sun on her cheeks as she picked up at a conch shell, marvelling at the iridescent colors reflecting the setting sun.
For once, Chrysanthe had managed to find some time for herself. She had left the care of the youngest children in the care of the older girls. The children were busying themselves with making items for the upcoming harvest festivals. People were always much more generous with their money when they were in a good mood, which made it ideal for selling the crafts necessary to make sure that they could support all of the children under their care. For now, while the entire world was busy preparing for the harvest, no one was buying, they were focused in their own insular little units, as families came together from far-flung regions to focus on harvesting their land. That had been her once, though shearing season was in the spring, not the autumn season that was so busy for farmers.
Chrysanthe pushed that thought from her head. Wishing to be back with her family wasn’t going to make it happen, so it was best not to dwell on that. As she walked into town, she felt free in a way she hadn’t in a while. With the pressure of everything off her shoulders for a while, it felt almost wrong, like there was something she had forgotten to do. She mentally went over everything she had needed to get sorted before she could have some time to herself to calm the nagging voice in the back of her head. There was nothing she had forgotten, just like the last five times she had gone over it. Perhaps she could relax for a bit herself.
All of the people coming back into town meant that the market was packed. Chrysanthe could feel a little less self-conscious in her plain undyed linen chiton and her bare feet. The people went about their own shopping, their eyes barely passing over her. It was nice to be anonymous for once, instead of doing her best to draw the attention of the shoppers and sell her wares. Chrysanthe stopped to admire some shiny gold bangles at one of the stalls. She picked one up and twirled it in the light, trying to imagine what her arm might look with even a few of the thing bands around her wrist. ”Hey there! Hands off the merchandise!” Her plain dress may have made her invisible to the crowd, but it seemed to have drawn the attention of the shopkeep. Chrysanthe quickly dropped the bracelet and started to walk away. ”And don’t think that I won’t count these!” The vendor yelled after her. While it was clear from her appearance that Chrysanthe didn’t have the money to actually buy even one of the thin gold bracelets, the implication that she was only looking at them because she was planning on stealing them stung. Was she not allowed even to admire the fancy items in the market?
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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For once, Chrysanthe had managed to find some time for herself. She had left the care of the youngest children in the care of the older girls. The children were busying themselves with making items for the upcoming harvest festivals. People were always much more generous with their money when they were in a good mood, which made it ideal for selling the crafts necessary to make sure that they could support all of the children under their care. For now, while the entire world was busy preparing for the harvest, no one was buying, they were focused in their own insular little units, as families came together from far-flung regions to focus on harvesting their land. That had been her once, though shearing season was in the spring, not the autumn season that was so busy for farmers.
Chrysanthe pushed that thought from her head. Wishing to be back with her family wasn’t going to make it happen, so it was best not to dwell on that. As she walked into town, she felt free in a way she hadn’t in a while. With the pressure of everything off her shoulders for a while, it felt almost wrong, like there was something she had forgotten to do. She mentally went over everything she had needed to get sorted before she could have some time to herself to calm the nagging voice in the back of her head. There was nothing she had forgotten, just like the last five times she had gone over it. Perhaps she could relax for a bit herself.
All of the people coming back into town meant that the market was packed. Chrysanthe could feel a little less self-conscious in her plain undyed linen chiton and her bare feet. The people went about their own shopping, their eyes barely passing over her. It was nice to be anonymous for once, instead of doing her best to draw the attention of the shoppers and sell her wares. Chrysanthe stopped to admire some shiny gold bangles at one of the stalls. She picked one up and twirled it in the light, trying to imagine what her arm might look with even a few of the thing bands around her wrist. ”Hey there! Hands off the merchandise!” Her plain dress may have made her invisible to the crowd, but it seemed to have drawn the attention of the shopkeep. Chrysanthe quickly dropped the bracelet and started to walk away. ”And don’t think that I won’t count these!” The vendor yelled after her. While it was clear from her appearance that Chrysanthe didn’t have the money to actually buy even one of the thin gold bracelets, the implication that she was only looking at them because she was planning on stealing them stung. Was she not allowed even to admire the fancy items in the market?
For once, Chrysanthe had managed to find some time for herself. She had left the care of the youngest children in the care of the older girls. The children were busying themselves with making items for the upcoming harvest festivals. People were always much more generous with their money when they were in a good mood, which made it ideal for selling the crafts necessary to make sure that they could support all of the children under their care. For now, while the entire world was busy preparing for the harvest, no one was buying, they were focused in their own insular little units, as families came together from far-flung regions to focus on harvesting their land. That had been her once, though shearing season was in the spring, not the autumn season that was so busy for farmers.
Chrysanthe pushed that thought from her head. Wishing to be back with her family wasn’t going to make it happen, so it was best not to dwell on that. As she walked into town, she felt free in a way she hadn’t in a while. With the pressure of everything off her shoulders for a while, it felt almost wrong, like there was something she had forgotten to do. She mentally went over everything she had needed to get sorted before she could have some time to herself to calm the nagging voice in the back of her head. There was nothing she had forgotten, just like the last five times she had gone over it. Perhaps she could relax for a bit herself.
All of the people coming back into town meant that the market was packed. Chrysanthe could feel a little less self-conscious in her plain undyed linen chiton and her bare feet. The people went about their own shopping, their eyes barely passing over her. It was nice to be anonymous for once, instead of doing her best to draw the attention of the shoppers and sell her wares. Chrysanthe stopped to admire some shiny gold bangles at one of the stalls. She picked one up and twirled it in the light, trying to imagine what her arm might look with even a few of the thing bands around her wrist. ”Hey there! Hands off the merchandise!” Her plain dress may have made her invisible to the crowd, but it seemed to have drawn the attention of the shopkeep. Chrysanthe quickly dropped the bracelet and started to walk away. ”And don’t think that I won’t count these!” The vendor yelled after her. While it was clear from her appearance that Chrysanthe didn’t have the money to actually buy even one of the thin gold bracelets, the implication that she was only looking at them because she was planning on stealing them stung. Was she not allowed even to admire the fancy items in the market?
Meena found herself humming as she weaved in and out of the crowd. Today was the Harvest Festival in the city and she had been anticipating it for weeks. So, that morning when it finally arrived, she could barely contain her excitement. For more reasons than one, might I add. It was the ideal venue to get gossip and news from unsuspecting vendors with their clients. In two days time, Irakles would be joining in the purge against the Creed; and even though Irakles was the most competent, Meena cursed King Stephanos for calling him back into battle. She’d almost begged Irakles to reject the request; send Achilleas and Emilios in his place. But, her mule of a lover had his pride and loyalty to his country. Traits that she couldn’t help but be inescapably drawn to, so, here she was instead. Enduring anxiety and having her heart governed by the distress she felt over his safety. So, anything valuable that her keen ears could pick up would be recounted dutifully to him upon her return.
As she glided through, very few parted around her, recognizing her air of class. She’d elected to be more modest in her choice of clothing that day, wanting to avoid unnecessary attention. Dress humble enough to blend in, but well enough to display dignity. She was draped in a looser fitting chiton, soft azure in shade. She wore none of her usual jewels, except for a golden emerald ring, and felt a tinge of insecurity without them. However, her deep brown hair hung completely free, loose tendrils framing her bare face, and she’d never felt more liberated in her life. She ran her fingers through the waves, tousling her hair over to one side, before peering at the spectacle before her.
A woman, about her size, was stopped at a vendor. Meena could tell from her plain clothing that she held no status. As simple as the action was, she couldn’t tear her eyes away as the woman picked up a golden bangle and admired it. In that moment, she was transported back into her childhood. She was in the market in Athenia, her eyes wide with wonder. She often stole away from the grim restraints of her home to explore the streets there. Her face would light in pure delight as she bounced from stall to stall, examining each little trinket and totem. Her most beloved moments though were whenever the vendor would allow her to try on the jewelry. Even as a child, she cherished those times and imagined herself in a life where she could afford such things. A life of grandeur.
Unfortunately, this vendor wasn’t as kind and Meena’s gaze narrowed as he barked orders at the unsuspecting and seemingly meek woman. She growled quietly at his insolence and stepped forward as the woman turned to leave. Her small shoulders were thrown back and her chin defiantly lifted as she approached the stall. Her eyes blazed with fury and she slammed her ring down on his table, causing him to jump, much to her satisfaction. “That won’t be necessary as I will be purchasing three of these.” She smiled, the words dripped sweetly from her lips, merely a polite veil over her indignation. The vendor kept his distance and opened his mouth to speak, but ended up grumbling instead as he reached for her ring.
“This better be worth something, you little-” His eyes bulged just as he flipped the ring over. He saw the engraving. She boldly met his inquiring gaze before tilting her head with smugness, daring him to continue with his insult.
“Now, you know that this is the most valuable item that you will ever hold.” She countered, her tone low and even. She leaned in, intending to keep the volume down, “It is more valuable than these bracelets, yet I am willing to make this trade.”
The vendor cast her a suspicious glance, but his probing gaze kept flickering back to what he held. He kept his silence for a few moments, rolling the ring between his thumb and index finger, weighing his decision.
“Fine.” He finally whispered, his voice hoarse. “An heirloom of the Mikaelidas house is hard to come by. How you acquired such an item is beyond my judgment. Take the bracelets!” His eyes betrayed his greed and a lopsided grin formed. His stubby fingers snapped shut around the ring and he quickly ducked to the back to further inspect his new-found treasure.
Meena swooped up the bangles and slid them into her sleeves. Heirloom of Mikaelidas? She thought with amusement. It did have the house emblem on it, but it had hardly been in the family. Irakles had given it to her as one of the many gifts that he showered her with after Sara’s birth. Though, she was fond of it, she never got used to its bulky feel.
“Do not let others shame you, especially, an ingrate like that.” She scolded harshly while stepping in silently behind the woman.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Meena found herself humming as she weaved in and out of the crowd. Today was the Harvest Festival in the city and she had been anticipating it for weeks. So, that morning when it finally arrived, she could barely contain her excitement. For more reasons than one, might I add. It was the ideal venue to get gossip and news from unsuspecting vendors with their clients. In two days time, Irakles would be joining in the purge against the Creed; and even though Irakles was the most competent, Meena cursed King Stephanos for calling him back into battle. She’d almost begged Irakles to reject the request; send Achilleas and Emilios in his place. But, her mule of a lover had his pride and loyalty to his country. Traits that she couldn’t help but be inescapably drawn to, so, here she was instead. Enduring anxiety and having her heart governed by the distress she felt over his safety. So, anything valuable that her keen ears could pick up would be recounted dutifully to him upon her return.
As she glided through, very few parted around her, recognizing her air of class. She’d elected to be more modest in her choice of clothing that day, wanting to avoid unnecessary attention. Dress humble enough to blend in, but well enough to display dignity. She was draped in a looser fitting chiton, soft azure in shade. She wore none of her usual jewels, except for a golden emerald ring, and felt a tinge of insecurity without them. However, her deep brown hair hung completely free, loose tendrils framing her bare face, and she’d never felt more liberated in her life. She ran her fingers through the waves, tousling her hair over to one side, before peering at the spectacle before her.
A woman, about her size, was stopped at a vendor. Meena could tell from her plain clothing that she held no status. As simple as the action was, she couldn’t tear her eyes away as the woman picked up a golden bangle and admired it. In that moment, she was transported back into her childhood. She was in the market in Athenia, her eyes wide with wonder. She often stole away from the grim restraints of her home to explore the streets there. Her face would light in pure delight as she bounced from stall to stall, examining each little trinket and totem. Her most beloved moments though were whenever the vendor would allow her to try on the jewelry. Even as a child, she cherished those times and imagined herself in a life where she could afford such things. A life of grandeur.
Unfortunately, this vendor wasn’t as kind and Meena’s gaze narrowed as he barked orders at the unsuspecting and seemingly meek woman. She growled quietly at his insolence and stepped forward as the woman turned to leave. Her small shoulders were thrown back and her chin defiantly lifted as she approached the stall. Her eyes blazed with fury and she slammed her ring down on his table, causing him to jump, much to her satisfaction. “That won’t be necessary as I will be purchasing three of these.” She smiled, the words dripped sweetly from her lips, merely a polite veil over her indignation. The vendor kept his distance and opened his mouth to speak, but ended up grumbling instead as he reached for her ring.
“This better be worth something, you little-” His eyes bulged just as he flipped the ring over. He saw the engraving. She boldly met his inquiring gaze before tilting her head with smugness, daring him to continue with his insult.
“Now, you know that this is the most valuable item that you will ever hold.” She countered, her tone low and even. She leaned in, intending to keep the volume down, “It is more valuable than these bracelets, yet I am willing to make this trade.”
The vendor cast her a suspicious glance, but his probing gaze kept flickering back to what he held. He kept his silence for a few moments, rolling the ring between his thumb and index finger, weighing his decision.
“Fine.” He finally whispered, his voice hoarse. “An heirloom of the Mikaelidas house is hard to come by. How you acquired such an item is beyond my judgment. Take the bracelets!” His eyes betrayed his greed and a lopsided grin formed. His stubby fingers snapped shut around the ring and he quickly ducked to the back to further inspect his new-found treasure.
Meena swooped up the bangles and slid them into her sleeves. Heirloom of Mikaelidas? She thought with amusement. It did have the house emblem on it, but it had hardly been in the family. Irakles had given it to her as one of the many gifts that he showered her with after Sara’s birth. Though, she was fond of it, she never got used to its bulky feel.
“Do not let others shame you, especially, an ingrate like that.” She scolded harshly while stepping in silently behind the woman.
Meena found herself humming as she weaved in and out of the crowd. Today was the Harvest Festival in the city and she had been anticipating it for weeks. So, that morning when it finally arrived, she could barely contain her excitement. For more reasons than one, might I add. It was the ideal venue to get gossip and news from unsuspecting vendors with their clients. In two days time, Irakles would be joining in the purge against the Creed; and even though Irakles was the most competent, Meena cursed King Stephanos for calling him back into battle. She’d almost begged Irakles to reject the request; send Achilleas and Emilios in his place. But, her mule of a lover had his pride and loyalty to his country. Traits that she couldn’t help but be inescapably drawn to, so, here she was instead. Enduring anxiety and having her heart governed by the distress she felt over his safety. So, anything valuable that her keen ears could pick up would be recounted dutifully to him upon her return.
As she glided through, very few parted around her, recognizing her air of class. She’d elected to be more modest in her choice of clothing that day, wanting to avoid unnecessary attention. Dress humble enough to blend in, but well enough to display dignity. She was draped in a looser fitting chiton, soft azure in shade. She wore none of her usual jewels, except for a golden emerald ring, and felt a tinge of insecurity without them. However, her deep brown hair hung completely free, loose tendrils framing her bare face, and she’d never felt more liberated in her life. She ran her fingers through the waves, tousling her hair over to one side, before peering at the spectacle before her.
A woman, about her size, was stopped at a vendor. Meena could tell from her plain clothing that she held no status. As simple as the action was, she couldn’t tear her eyes away as the woman picked up a golden bangle and admired it. In that moment, she was transported back into her childhood. She was in the market in Athenia, her eyes wide with wonder. She often stole away from the grim restraints of her home to explore the streets there. Her face would light in pure delight as she bounced from stall to stall, examining each little trinket and totem. Her most beloved moments though were whenever the vendor would allow her to try on the jewelry. Even as a child, she cherished those times and imagined herself in a life where she could afford such things. A life of grandeur.
Unfortunately, this vendor wasn’t as kind and Meena’s gaze narrowed as he barked orders at the unsuspecting and seemingly meek woman. She growled quietly at his insolence and stepped forward as the woman turned to leave. Her small shoulders were thrown back and her chin defiantly lifted as she approached the stall. Her eyes blazed with fury and she slammed her ring down on his table, causing him to jump, much to her satisfaction. “That won’t be necessary as I will be purchasing three of these.” She smiled, the words dripped sweetly from her lips, merely a polite veil over her indignation. The vendor kept his distance and opened his mouth to speak, but ended up grumbling instead as he reached for her ring.
“This better be worth something, you little-” His eyes bulged just as he flipped the ring over. He saw the engraving. She boldly met his inquiring gaze before tilting her head with smugness, daring him to continue with his insult.
“Now, you know that this is the most valuable item that you will ever hold.” She countered, her tone low and even. She leaned in, intending to keep the volume down, “It is more valuable than these bracelets, yet I am willing to make this trade.”
The vendor cast her a suspicious glance, but his probing gaze kept flickering back to what he held. He kept his silence for a few moments, rolling the ring between his thumb and index finger, weighing his decision.
“Fine.” He finally whispered, his voice hoarse. “An heirloom of the Mikaelidas house is hard to come by. How you acquired such an item is beyond my judgment. Take the bracelets!” His eyes betrayed his greed and a lopsided grin formed. His stubby fingers snapped shut around the ring and he quickly ducked to the back to further inspect his new-found treasure.
Meena swooped up the bangles and slid them into her sleeves. Heirloom of Mikaelidas? She thought with amusement. It did have the house emblem on it, but it had hardly been in the family. Irakles had given it to her as one of the many gifts that he showered her with after Sara’s birth. Though, she was fond of it, she never got used to its bulky feel.
“Do not let others shame you, especially, an ingrate like that.” She scolded harshly while stepping in silently behind the woman.
It was supposed to be a serendipituous event, the Harvest festival homecoming. It had always been.
Every year, the Harvest Festival would mark the reunion of many families whose sons had went away for business, travels or military assignments. Parents would be overjoyed to have their offspring back, and families would often sit down for dinner the first day back to enjoy a proper meal together, catching up on all that they've done in the time they had been apart, a way that no missive or letter could replace. There was just something about face to face interactions that would be stored in precious memories, as opposed to words on a parchment.
Yet this year, a tinge of apprehension was laced through the joyous greetings of the lower and upper classes alike. The upper classes knew what would be happening in a few days time. The lower classes simply fed off the palpable anxiety rolling off the nobility in waves as they prepared for the scheduled attack on the Creed's enclave in just a few days. Irakles himself had readied his men, reminding them that accuracy was of utmost importance, that they had to choose between precision or death.
Of course, Meena had not been happy when he had informed her of what his nephew had asked for him to do. Having told her upon one of the meals they shared back in the Mikaelidas manor when he visited from staying at the royal palace, Irakles understood where his mistress's anxiety came from. A retired General who merely advised in his ageing days, yet that did not mean he had not been training, if only by himself. He kept his battle axe polished and primed yet, and he had no qualms over the upcoming debacle to take place at the gorge.
He would not give his nephew the satisfaction of seeing him take a back seat.
Finishing the daily perusual of documents, missives and papers to be signed for the day, the prince had laid back with a crick in his neck when he was reminded of the Harvest Festival taking place. And while he was a General and of military background, Irakles was not one who would shy away from a chance of appearing in public, to remind the people of Vasiliadon of him as a generous and connected royal prince - so he could garner their favor eventually. The power of the people would be stronger then whatever hold Stephanos had, and that would convince the Senate as well.
Upon his gelding, Irakles directed Aeneus in a light canter towards where the Festival was to be held, a soft smile as he greeted the people of the capitol. His forest green chiton swayed in the wind as he dismounted and handed the reins of his spirited gelding to a servant who had followed, before he waded his way into the gathering of the serendipitous crowd, all eager to meet their families again.
It was a familiar voice which had caught his attention, low as it were. It was a voice Irakles had been familiar with over the past decade, more familiar then he was with the voice of his own wife, ironic as it may be. Sure enough, as the bearded male of royal birth turned, the smile turned self-confident when he identified the body of his mistress just as swooped up what appeared to be jewelry. More? Had he not bestowed upon her enough?
Walking up just as she scolded, the male raised a brow, and then glanced over at a smaller, mousey looking female that Meena stood next to. "I assure you, Lady Meena here knows what she speaks of." he drawled, a smooth segue into the conversation. Irakles's smile was that of confidence as he stepped up next to Meena, but stayed a respectable distance. While it was common knowledge that Irakles had long abandoned his lawfully wedded wife after the birth of his second son, and instated Meena as mistress of his manor, he did not wish to display the fact flagrantly - not when he was still gaining the favor of the people for his plans.
He observed the bangles his mistress held, and then his eyes flickered to another figure, a small girlwhose figure was hidden by the large cloak she wore, standing at a stall just one away from the one peddling jewelry. "I do think the conch shell being held by the little lady over there holds much more interest though, does it not?" his eyes slid to the shopkeep who was now eyeing Irakles cautiously,a nd the prince nodded respectfully, even if his words were anything but. "Tis a step up from these common jewelry... though I suppose I should assume nothing more from people who are common, such as this young man here. I do hope he has not harmed you in anyway, miss?" Irakles turned his last words to the brunette young lady, a kind smile on his lips.
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It was supposed to be a serendipituous event, the Harvest festival homecoming. It had always been.
Every year, the Harvest Festival would mark the reunion of many families whose sons had went away for business, travels or military assignments. Parents would be overjoyed to have their offspring back, and families would often sit down for dinner the first day back to enjoy a proper meal together, catching up on all that they've done in the time they had been apart, a way that no missive or letter could replace. There was just something about face to face interactions that would be stored in precious memories, as opposed to words on a parchment.
Yet this year, a tinge of apprehension was laced through the joyous greetings of the lower and upper classes alike. The upper classes knew what would be happening in a few days time. The lower classes simply fed off the palpable anxiety rolling off the nobility in waves as they prepared for the scheduled attack on the Creed's enclave in just a few days. Irakles himself had readied his men, reminding them that accuracy was of utmost importance, that they had to choose between precision or death.
Of course, Meena had not been happy when he had informed her of what his nephew had asked for him to do. Having told her upon one of the meals they shared back in the Mikaelidas manor when he visited from staying at the royal palace, Irakles understood where his mistress's anxiety came from. A retired General who merely advised in his ageing days, yet that did not mean he had not been training, if only by himself. He kept his battle axe polished and primed yet, and he had no qualms over the upcoming debacle to take place at the gorge.
He would not give his nephew the satisfaction of seeing him take a back seat.
Finishing the daily perusual of documents, missives and papers to be signed for the day, the prince had laid back with a crick in his neck when he was reminded of the Harvest Festival taking place. And while he was a General and of military background, Irakles was not one who would shy away from a chance of appearing in public, to remind the people of Vasiliadon of him as a generous and connected royal prince - so he could garner their favor eventually. The power of the people would be stronger then whatever hold Stephanos had, and that would convince the Senate as well.
Upon his gelding, Irakles directed Aeneus in a light canter towards where the Festival was to be held, a soft smile as he greeted the people of the capitol. His forest green chiton swayed in the wind as he dismounted and handed the reins of his spirited gelding to a servant who had followed, before he waded his way into the gathering of the serendipitous crowd, all eager to meet their families again.
It was a familiar voice which had caught his attention, low as it were. It was a voice Irakles had been familiar with over the past decade, more familiar then he was with the voice of his own wife, ironic as it may be. Sure enough, as the bearded male of royal birth turned, the smile turned self-confident when he identified the body of his mistress just as swooped up what appeared to be jewelry. More? Had he not bestowed upon her enough?
Walking up just as she scolded, the male raised a brow, and then glanced over at a smaller, mousey looking female that Meena stood next to. "I assure you, Lady Meena here knows what she speaks of." he drawled, a smooth segue into the conversation. Irakles's smile was that of confidence as he stepped up next to Meena, but stayed a respectable distance. While it was common knowledge that Irakles had long abandoned his lawfully wedded wife after the birth of his second son, and instated Meena as mistress of his manor, he did not wish to display the fact flagrantly - not when he was still gaining the favor of the people for his plans.
He observed the bangles his mistress held, and then his eyes flickered to another figure, a small girlwhose figure was hidden by the large cloak she wore, standing at a stall just one away from the one peddling jewelry. "I do think the conch shell being held by the little lady over there holds much more interest though, does it not?" his eyes slid to the shopkeep who was now eyeing Irakles cautiously,a nd the prince nodded respectfully, even if his words were anything but. "Tis a step up from these common jewelry... though I suppose I should assume nothing more from people who are common, such as this young man here. I do hope he has not harmed you in anyway, miss?" Irakles turned his last words to the brunette young lady, a kind smile on his lips.
It was supposed to be a serendipituous event, the Harvest festival homecoming. It had always been.
Every year, the Harvest Festival would mark the reunion of many families whose sons had went away for business, travels or military assignments. Parents would be overjoyed to have their offspring back, and families would often sit down for dinner the first day back to enjoy a proper meal together, catching up on all that they've done in the time they had been apart, a way that no missive or letter could replace. There was just something about face to face interactions that would be stored in precious memories, as opposed to words on a parchment.
Yet this year, a tinge of apprehension was laced through the joyous greetings of the lower and upper classes alike. The upper classes knew what would be happening in a few days time. The lower classes simply fed off the palpable anxiety rolling off the nobility in waves as they prepared for the scheduled attack on the Creed's enclave in just a few days. Irakles himself had readied his men, reminding them that accuracy was of utmost importance, that they had to choose between precision or death.
Of course, Meena had not been happy when he had informed her of what his nephew had asked for him to do. Having told her upon one of the meals they shared back in the Mikaelidas manor when he visited from staying at the royal palace, Irakles understood where his mistress's anxiety came from. A retired General who merely advised in his ageing days, yet that did not mean he had not been training, if only by himself. He kept his battle axe polished and primed yet, and he had no qualms over the upcoming debacle to take place at the gorge.
He would not give his nephew the satisfaction of seeing him take a back seat.
Finishing the daily perusual of documents, missives and papers to be signed for the day, the prince had laid back with a crick in his neck when he was reminded of the Harvest Festival taking place. And while he was a General and of military background, Irakles was not one who would shy away from a chance of appearing in public, to remind the people of Vasiliadon of him as a generous and connected royal prince - so he could garner their favor eventually. The power of the people would be stronger then whatever hold Stephanos had, and that would convince the Senate as well.
Upon his gelding, Irakles directed Aeneus in a light canter towards where the Festival was to be held, a soft smile as he greeted the people of the capitol. His forest green chiton swayed in the wind as he dismounted and handed the reins of his spirited gelding to a servant who had followed, before he waded his way into the gathering of the serendipitous crowd, all eager to meet their families again.
It was a familiar voice which had caught his attention, low as it were. It was a voice Irakles had been familiar with over the past decade, more familiar then he was with the voice of his own wife, ironic as it may be. Sure enough, as the bearded male of royal birth turned, the smile turned self-confident when he identified the body of his mistress just as swooped up what appeared to be jewelry. More? Had he not bestowed upon her enough?
Walking up just as she scolded, the male raised a brow, and then glanced over at a smaller, mousey looking female that Meena stood next to. "I assure you, Lady Meena here knows what she speaks of." he drawled, a smooth segue into the conversation. Irakles's smile was that of confidence as he stepped up next to Meena, but stayed a respectable distance. While it was common knowledge that Irakles had long abandoned his lawfully wedded wife after the birth of his second son, and instated Meena as mistress of his manor, he did not wish to display the fact flagrantly - not when he was still gaining the favor of the people for his plans.
He observed the bangles his mistress held, and then his eyes flickered to another figure, a small girlwhose figure was hidden by the large cloak she wore, standing at a stall just one away from the one peddling jewelry. "I do think the conch shell being held by the little lady over there holds much more interest though, does it not?" his eyes slid to the shopkeep who was now eyeing Irakles cautiously,a nd the prince nodded respectfully, even if his words were anything but. "Tis a step up from these common jewelry... though I suppose I should assume nothing more from people who are common, such as this young man here. I do hope he has not harmed you in anyway, miss?" Irakles turned his last words to the brunette young lady, a kind smile on his lips.
Chrysanthe was surprised when the woman of high status approached the shopkeep to speak on her behalf. She internally cringed, hoping that the woman wouldn’t just end up making more trouble for her in the long run. She wasn’t used to having people speak up on her behalf, but she knew that when she tried to stand up for herself it often resulted in more trouble for herself when she didn’t have the clout to back it up. That’s why she only picked fights that she knew she could win.
Chrysanthe was going to just slip away, hoping that the shopkeep would be distracted enough by the lady that he would not remember her face so that he would make trouble for her later. But she stopped and turned curiously as the lady took out a ring to pay for the bangles. She stared at the transaction as the ring was identified as being from the Mikaelidas house. She hadn’t realized that the lady was associated with the royal family. Well, that or a thief. Either way, she was in well over her head.
Still, she couldn’t help but take a little offense when the lady told her not to be shamed. While normally she didn’t want to make waves, it was too dangerous for someone like her with no status to back her up, Chrysanthe did not think that it was fair to confuse that with being ashamed. “Don’t you worry. The likes of him couldn’t shame me, my lady.” Chrysanthe retorted, looking back at the shopkeep. The presence of such a powerful friend emboldening her to stand up to the man. She tried to push the thought that she may not have such a powerful ally when she encountered this man in the future to the back of her head.
Suddenly, they were interrupted by a man’s voice behind her. By his identification of the woman, it seemed that he knew her. As he approached and stood next to Lady Meena, Chrysanthe’s jaw dropped as she recognized him and Prince Irakles. Associated with the royal family it was then. “M..my Prince.” Chrysanthe stuttered out, bowing her head, and curtseying. She tried to regain some semblance of control over her face as she recovered from the shock of actually being spoken to by someone from the royal family.
As he continued talking to her, she carefully listened to his every word, not meeting his eye. Instead, she looked curiously at the shell held by another woman at the market, as he addressed the shopkeep who had been rude to her. When the question returned to her, Chrysanthe hesitated for a beat until it sunk in that the prince was actually asking her a question. “No harm done, my prince.” she answered quietly. She hoped in that moment that she might be anywhere else, besides in the uncomfortable spotlight she found herself in. She found herself scanning the other stalls, for something that might allow her to extract herself from this situation, but she only found herself getting distracted by a stall selling sheep’s cheese. She hadn’t had much to eat that morning, and it had been forever since she had had good sheep’s cheese. Growing up her family had always had fresh sheep’s cheese and oh how she missed the cheese.
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Chrysanthe was surprised when the woman of high status approached the shopkeep to speak on her behalf. She internally cringed, hoping that the woman wouldn’t just end up making more trouble for her in the long run. She wasn’t used to having people speak up on her behalf, but she knew that when she tried to stand up for herself it often resulted in more trouble for herself when she didn’t have the clout to back it up. That’s why she only picked fights that she knew she could win.
Chrysanthe was going to just slip away, hoping that the shopkeep would be distracted enough by the lady that he would not remember her face so that he would make trouble for her later. But she stopped and turned curiously as the lady took out a ring to pay for the bangles. She stared at the transaction as the ring was identified as being from the Mikaelidas house. She hadn’t realized that the lady was associated with the royal family. Well, that or a thief. Either way, she was in well over her head.
Still, she couldn’t help but take a little offense when the lady told her not to be shamed. While normally she didn’t want to make waves, it was too dangerous for someone like her with no status to back her up, Chrysanthe did not think that it was fair to confuse that with being ashamed. “Don’t you worry. The likes of him couldn’t shame me, my lady.” Chrysanthe retorted, looking back at the shopkeep. The presence of such a powerful friend emboldening her to stand up to the man. She tried to push the thought that she may not have such a powerful ally when she encountered this man in the future to the back of her head.
Suddenly, they were interrupted by a man’s voice behind her. By his identification of the woman, it seemed that he knew her. As he approached and stood next to Lady Meena, Chrysanthe’s jaw dropped as she recognized him and Prince Irakles. Associated with the royal family it was then. “M..my Prince.” Chrysanthe stuttered out, bowing her head, and curtseying. She tried to regain some semblance of control over her face as she recovered from the shock of actually being spoken to by someone from the royal family.
As he continued talking to her, she carefully listened to his every word, not meeting his eye. Instead, she looked curiously at the shell held by another woman at the market, as he addressed the shopkeep who had been rude to her. When the question returned to her, Chrysanthe hesitated for a beat until it sunk in that the prince was actually asking her a question. “No harm done, my prince.” she answered quietly. She hoped in that moment that she might be anywhere else, besides in the uncomfortable spotlight she found herself in. She found herself scanning the other stalls, for something that might allow her to extract herself from this situation, but she only found herself getting distracted by a stall selling sheep’s cheese. She hadn’t had much to eat that morning, and it had been forever since she had had good sheep’s cheese. Growing up her family had always had fresh sheep’s cheese and oh how she missed the cheese.
Chrysanthe was surprised when the woman of high status approached the shopkeep to speak on her behalf. She internally cringed, hoping that the woman wouldn’t just end up making more trouble for her in the long run. She wasn’t used to having people speak up on her behalf, but she knew that when she tried to stand up for herself it often resulted in more trouble for herself when she didn’t have the clout to back it up. That’s why she only picked fights that she knew she could win.
Chrysanthe was going to just slip away, hoping that the shopkeep would be distracted enough by the lady that he would not remember her face so that he would make trouble for her later. But she stopped and turned curiously as the lady took out a ring to pay for the bangles. She stared at the transaction as the ring was identified as being from the Mikaelidas house. She hadn’t realized that the lady was associated with the royal family. Well, that or a thief. Either way, she was in well over her head.
Still, she couldn’t help but take a little offense when the lady told her not to be shamed. While normally she didn’t want to make waves, it was too dangerous for someone like her with no status to back her up, Chrysanthe did not think that it was fair to confuse that with being ashamed. “Don’t you worry. The likes of him couldn’t shame me, my lady.” Chrysanthe retorted, looking back at the shopkeep. The presence of such a powerful friend emboldening her to stand up to the man. She tried to push the thought that she may not have such a powerful ally when she encountered this man in the future to the back of her head.
Suddenly, they were interrupted by a man’s voice behind her. By his identification of the woman, it seemed that he knew her. As he approached and stood next to Lady Meena, Chrysanthe’s jaw dropped as she recognized him and Prince Irakles. Associated with the royal family it was then. “M..my Prince.” Chrysanthe stuttered out, bowing her head, and curtseying. She tried to regain some semblance of control over her face as she recovered from the shock of actually being spoken to by someone from the royal family.
As he continued talking to her, she carefully listened to his every word, not meeting his eye. Instead, she looked curiously at the shell held by another woman at the market, as he addressed the shopkeep who had been rude to her. When the question returned to her, Chrysanthe hesitated for a beat until it sunk in that the prince was actually asking her a question. “No harm done, my prince.” she answered quietly. She hoped in that moment that she might be anywhere else, besides in the uncomfortable spotlight she found herself in. She found herself scanning the other stalls, for something that might allow her to extract herself from this situation, but she only found herself getting distracted by a stall selling sheep’s cheese. She hadn’t had much to eat that morning, and it had been forever since she had had good sheep’s cheese. Growing up her family had always had fresh sheep’s cheese and oh how she missed the cheese.
Innocently browsing the wares on sale as she were, it was meant to be a highly uneventful day - that was, until a loud voice of a merchant just a few stalls away from the vendor she was currently with drew her attention. Cerulean eyes flickered from the conch shell she held to look up, her gaze surprised when she saw a woman cladded in a plain dress being verbally assaulted by a merchant who clearly was more suspicious then he let on. Had it veen a regular, more normal circumstance, Zenais would likely try and help the woman out. That was how her mother had raised her afterall, as a lady of the House Alistaire, to always help those in need. However with the strappings life had dished her, the girl now found herself instead, going against what her mother had taught her to instead draw away. Helping would be to draw attention to herself, and the brunette had no wish of that.
Placing the conch shell down, Zenais gave a polite smile to the vendor in charge of the stall she had been. The blonde lady herself was surreptiously watching the exchange what appears to be a noble lady - or at least, the dark-haired one played the part - to the previously insolent shopkeeper who had insinuated someone stole an object. The insolent shopkeeper was who appeared to be a daring one, almost as if he was questioning the genuinety of the more authoratative one, an extent to which Zenais doubt she'd ever do.
Pulling her hood back over her head, the girl was just about to make a move away, when a sudden voice made her feet draw to a stop. Turning her head in a motion that made the brown hood fall off her smooth brunette hair again, Zenais blinked in surprise. She recognized the male, for he was one who patrolled the streets of Vasiliadon often, especially in recent months after the attack on the circus, and the reemergence of the Creed. One would have to be living under a rock to not know the former General and Prince Irakles of the Mikaelidas family.
To have him address her directly however, brought a whole new slew of terror.
Only after she thoroughly stared at the situation, did she notice that, much to her relief, it had not been Zenais that Irakles spoke to, and the little young tavern performer was more then glad as the woman who had been verbally accosted seem to take up all the attention of the prince and his companion. Retrieving her hood, she drew it back up over her head, and proceeded to disappear into the crowd, allowing her day to proceed with no larger a hitch then the one she had just experienced.
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Innocently browsing the wares on sale as she were, it was meant to be a highly uneventful day - that was, until a loud voice of a merchant just a few stalls away from the vendor she was currently with drew her attention. Cerulean eyes flickered from the conch shell she held to look up, her gaze surprised when she saw a woman cladded in a plain dress being verbally assaulted by a merchant who clearly was more suspicious then he let on. Had it veen a regular, more normal circumstance, Zenais would likely try and help the woman out. That was how her mother had raised her afterall, as a lady of the House Alistaire, to always help those in need. However with the strappings life had dished her, the girl now found herself instead, going against what her mother had taught her to instead draw away. Helping would be to draw attention to herself, and the brunette had no wish of that.
Placing the conch shell down, Zenais gave a polite smile to the vendor in charge of the stall she had been. The blonde lady herself was surreptiously watching the exchange what appears to be a noble lady - or at least, the dark-haired one played the part - to the previously insolent shopkeeper who had insinuated someone stole an object. The insolent shopkeeper was who appeared to be a daring one, almost as if he was questioning the genuinety of the more authoratative one, an extent to which Zenais doubt she'd ever do.
Pulling her hood back over her head, the girl was just about to make a move away, when a sudden voice made her feet draw to a stop. Turning her head in a motion that made the brown hood fall off her smooth brunette hair again, Zenais blinked in surprise. She recognized the male, for he was one who patrolled the streets of Vasiliadon often, especially in recent months after the attack on the circus, and the reemergence of the Creed. One would have to be living under a rock to not know the former General and Prince Irakles of the Mikaelidas family.
To have him address her directly however, brought a whole new slew of terror.
Only after she thoroughly stared at the situation, did she notice that, much to her relief, it had not been Zenais that Irakles spoke to, and the little young tavern performer was more then glad as the woman who had been verbally accosted seem to take up all the attention of the prince and his companion. Retrieving her hood, she drew it back up over her head, and proceeded to disappear into the crowd, allowing her day to proceed with no larger a hitch then the one she had just experienced.
Innocently browsing the wares on sale as she were, it was meant to be a highly uneventful day - that was, until a loud voice of a merchant just a few stalls away from the vendor she was currently with drew her attention. Cerulean eyes flickered from the conch shell she held to look up, her gaze surprised when she saw a woman cladded in a plain dress being verbally assaulted by a merchant who clearly was more suspicious then he let on. Had it veen a regular, more normal circumstance, Zenais would likely try and help the woman out. That was how her mother had raised her afterall, as a lady of the House Alistaire, to always help those in need. However with the strappings life had dished her, the girl now found herself instead, going against what her mother had taught her to instead draw away. Helping would be to draw attention to herself, and the brunette had no wish of that.
Placing the conch shell down, Zenais gave a polite smile to the vendor in charge of the stall she had been. The blonde lady herself was surreptiously watching the exchange what appears to be a noble lady - or at least, the dark-haired one played the part - to the previously insolent shopkeeper who had insinuated someone stole an object. The insolent shopkeeper was who appeared to be a daring one, almost as if he was questioning the genuinety of the more authoratative one, an extent to which Zenais doubt she'd ever do.
Pulling her hood back over her head, the girl was just about to make a move away, when a sudden voice made her feet draw to a stop. Turning her head in a motion that made the brown hood fall off her smooth brunette hair again, Zenais blinked in surprise. She recognized the male, for he was one who patrolled the streets of Vasiliadon often, especially in recent months after the attack on the circus, and the reemergence of the Creed. One would have to be living under a rock to not know the former General and Prince Irakles of the Mikaelidas family.
To have him address her directly however, brought a whole new slew of terror.
Only after she thoroughly stared at the situation, did she notice that, much to her relief, it had not been Zenais that Irakles spoke to, and the little young tavern performer was more then glad as the woman who had been verbally accosted seem to take up all the attention of the prince and his companion. Retrieving her hood, she drew it back up over her head, and proceeded to disappear into the crowd, allowing her day to proceed with no larger a hitch then the one she had just experienced.
Meena had not expected Irakles to attend the harvest festival. So, needless to say, when he sauntered up behind her, she was truly surprised. But it was only short-lived. As his frame towered over her, she couldn’t help but hide an assured grin. She would never be reliant on his strength, but there was something about his confidence that was infectious. Though, he kept his distance, if only for the sake of seemliness, he was just close enough for her to feel the warmth that radiated off of his body. She had the overwhelming urge to smirk at the sight that they likely presented, but she knew that he may not find the humor in it that she did. As if all of Taengea didn’t know of their affair. Biting her tongue, she merely cast him a silent glance in subtle question of his presence.
Did he so deem her inept in doing her duty that he felt the need to make a personal call? If that were true, she couldn’t help but feel insulted. She’d always had a knack for being sharp, but it had been Irakles himself who taught her how to perfect her devious nature. He’d gone so far as to share with her the methods that only a military man, such as he, would know... How to blend in among the people and remain hidden until you were ready to be seen... All the while listening for any inkling that alluded to something further. So, if he was discontent with her performance then that was at his own doing.
She did consider as to whether he just had the sudden fancy to see her and her hackles, metaphorically, lowered. Either way, she wasn’t for sure, but they both knew that she would broach the subject with him when they were back within the safety of their walls. She knew the fear that he induced in others often left them, for a better lack of words, unwilling participants. If his authoritative, domineering stature was not enough to cause despair in an unsuspecting individual, then his militant glower usually was. Which was why she’d decided to go to the festival without him that day. How could he expect her to glean any useful information when he was behind her, scaring away all possible informants?
The cool touch of metal against her fingertips brought her back to reality, reminding her of her intentions in the first place. The bangles. The woman. It was obvious that she was out of sorts by the way she stammered and bowed her head. Meena expected nothing less of a commoner, especially one under the scrutiny of the prince. The poor woman was glancing everywhere except at them and Meena felt sympathy for her. “Do not be alarmed. The prince merely concerns himself with the well-being of his people. That is all.” She said with a genuine smile offered, only reiterating the sentiment that Irakles was a man who truly cared for Taengea.
She leaned in to keep her voice low enough for the woman to hear. “I did not mean to cause you discomfort. I simply saw that you admired these. Take them.” She held out the bangles discreetly. Irakles had been correct, but only partly. They weren’t worth much in the eyes of a noble. But to a commoner, they would fetch a hefty price. Meena knew that to be true and maybe that was why she felt compelled to do what she was doing. There were aspects of her life that she’d managed to hide even from her lover. If he had known, he might have shunned her long ago.
“If you cannot bring yourself to wear such fine things then sell them. But, you cannot refuse such a gift.” She whispered, the insistence clear in her eyes.
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Meena had not expected Irakles to attend the harvest festival. So, needless to say, when he sauntered up behind her, she was truly surprised. But it was only short-lived. As his frame towered over her, she couldn’t help but hide an assured grin. She would never be reliant on his strength, but there was something about his confidence that was infectious. Though, he kept his distance, if only for the sake of seemliness, he was just close enough for her to feel the warmth that radiated off of his body. She had the overwhelming urge to smirk at the sight that they likely presented, but she knew that he may not find the humor in it that she did. As if all of Taengea didn’t know of their affair. Biting her tongue, she merely cast him a silent glance in subtle question of his presence.
Did he so deem her inept in doing her duty that he felt the need to make a personal call? If that were true, she couldn’t help but feel insulted. She’d always had a knack for being sharp, but it had been Irakles himself who taught her how to perfect her devious nature. He’d gone so far as to share with her the methods that only a military man, such as he, would know... How to blend in among the people and remain hidden until you were ready to be seen... All the while listening for any inkling that alluded to something further. So, if he was discontent with her performance then that was at his own doing.
She did consider as to whether he just had the sudden fancy to see her and her hackles, metaphorically, lowered. Either way, she wasn’t for sure, but they both knew that she would broach the subject with him when they were back within the safety of their walls. She knew the fear that he induced in others often left them, for a better lack of words, unwilling participants. If his authoritative, domineering stature was not enough to cause despair in an unsuspecting individual, then his militant glower usually was. Which was why she’d decided to go to the festival without him that day. How could he expect her to glean any useful information when he was behind her, scaring away all possible informants?
The cool touch of metal against her fingertips brought her back to reality, reminding her of her intentions in the first place. The bangles. The woman. It was obvious that she was out of sorts by the way she stammered and bowed her head. Meena expected nothing less of a commoner, especially one under the scrutiny of the prince. The poor woman was glancing everywhere except at them and Meena felt sympathy for her. “Do not be alarmed. The prince merely concerns himself with the well-being of his people. That is all.” She said with a genuine smile offered, only reiterating the sentiment that Irakles was a man who truly cared for Taengea.
She leaned in to keep her voice low enough for the woman to hear. “I did not mean to cause you discomfort. I simply saw that you admired these. Take them.” She held out the bangles discreetly. Irakles had been correct, but only partly. They weren’t worth much in the eyes of a noble. But to a commoner, they would fetch a hefty price. Meena knew that to be true and maybe that was why she felt compelled to do what she was doing. There were aspects of her life that she’d managed to hide even from her lover. If he had known, he might have shunned her long ago.
“If you cannot bring yourself to wear such fine things then sell them. But, you cannot refuse such a gift.” She whispered, the insistence clear in her eyes.
Meena had not expected Irakles to attend the harvest festival. So, needless to say, when he sauntered up behind her, she was truly surprised. But it was only short-lived. As his frame towered over her, she couldn’t help but hide an assured grin. She would never be reliant on his strength, but there was something about his confidence that was infectious. Though, he kept his distance, if only for the sake of seemliness, he was just close enough for her to feel the warmth that radiated off of his body. She had the overwhelming urge to smirk at the sight that they likely presented, but she knew that he may not find the humor in it that she did. As if all of Taengea didn’t know of their affair. Biting her tongue, she merely cast him a silent glance in subtle question of his presence.
Did he so deem her inept in doing her duty that he felt the need to make a personal call? If that were true, she couldn’t help but feel insulted. She’d always had a knack for being sharp, but it had been Irakles himself who taught her how to perfect her devious nature. He’d gone so far as to share with her the methods that only a military man, such as he, would know... How to blend in among the people and remain hidden until you were ready to be seen... All the while listening for any inkling that alluded to something further. So, if he was discontent with her performance then that was at his own doing.
She did consider as to whether he just had the sudden fancy to see her and her hackles, metaphorically, lowered. Either way, she wasn’t for sure, but they both knew that she would broach the subject with him when they were back within the safety of their walls. She knew the fear that he induced in others often left them, for a better lack of words, unwilling participants. If his authoritative, domineering stature was not enough to cause despair in an unsuspecting individual, then his militant glower usually was. Which was why she’d decided to go to the festival without him that day. How could he expect her to glean any useful information when he was behind her, scaring away all possible informants?
The cool touch of metal against her fingertips brought her back to reality, reminding her of her intentions in the first place. The bangles. The woman. It was obvious that she was out of sorts by the way she stammered and bowed her head. Meena expected nothing less of a commoner, especially one under the scrutiny of the prince. The poor woman was glancing everywhere except at them and Meena felt sympathy for her. “Do not be alarmed. The prince merely concerns himself with the well-being of his people. That is all.” She said with a genuine smile offered, only reiterating the sentiment that Irakles was a man who truly cared for Taengea.
She leaned in to keep her voice low enough for the woman to hear. “I did not mean to cause you discomfort. I simply saw that you admired these. Take them.” She held out the bangles discreetly. Irakles had been correct, but only partly. They weren’t worth much in the eyes of a noble. But to a commoner, they would fetch a hefty price. Meena knew that to be true and maybe that was why she felt compelled to do what she was doing. There were aspects of her life that she’d managed to hide even from her lover. If he had known, he might have shunned her long ago.
“If you cannot bring yourself to wear such fine things then sell them. But, you cannot refuse such a gift.” She whispered, the insistence clear in her eyes.
Chrysanthe hadn’t expected such generosity and kindness from people of such a high station. She had done nothing but admire a few baubles at a stand, and now she found herself the subject of the prince’s interest. She didn’t know what she had done to have such luck or such a curse. She still wasn’t entirely sure that the intentions of these people could be entirely benevolent. When the woman leaned forward and spoke so that only she could hear, Chrysanthe froze, her mouth dropping open at the generosity of the gift.
That was it, she decided, this was definitely a huge stroke of luck. She could never have believed that she would be casually offered golden bracelets like they were just nothing. Maybe for someone of her status, they were almost worthless to her. Who was she to know how things looked from a lady’s point of view. Chrysanthe looked to the bracelets and up at the lady’s face, trying to judge whether or not she was expected to refuse, but the lady looked insistent, even as she begged Chrysanthe to sell them if she wouldn’t wear them.
Chrysanthe took the bangles hesitantly, wondering how the lady knew that she was already thinking of the money that she could get for them. As much as Chrysanthe would love to have the bangles to wear, the thought of what she could do with the money that they were worth….finally, finally she could find her way out of the debt that Rhode claimed she was in. It would be enough to buy her own supplies so that she could travel, and she could leave some money behind for the children as well, she wouldn’t want to leave them worse off just because she wanted to make her way in the world.
”Are you sure?” Chrysanthe said quietly, matching the low tone in which the bangles were offered to her. The last thing she wanted was for the gift to be revoked but she still couldn’t quite believe that this was something that she would be given willingly. ”Thank you...thank you so much.” Chrysanthe looked back down at the bangles in her hand, still stunned in disbelief at what had been offered to her. She only hoped that it wasn’t a dream that she was going to wake up from. Though she didn’t think that even in her wildest dreams she could have come up with such an outrageous scenario.
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Chrysanthe hadn’t expected such generosity and kindness from people of such a high station. She had done nothing but admire a few baubles at a stand, and now she found herself the subject of the prince’s interest. She didn’t know what she had done to have such luck or such a curse. She still wasn’t entirely sure that the intentions of these people could be entirely benevolent. When the woman leaned forward and spoke so that only she could hear, Chrysanthe froze, her mouth dropping open at the generosity of the gift.
That was it, she decided, this was definitely a huge stroke of luck. She could never have believed that she would be casually offered golden bracelets like they were just nothing. Maybe for someone of her status, they were almost worthless to her. Who was she to know how things looked from a lady’s point of view. Chrysanthe looked to the bracelets and up at the lady’s face, trying to judge whether or not she was expected to refuse, but the lady looked insistent, even as she begged Chrysanthe to sell them if she wouldn’t wear them.
Chrysanthe took the bangles hesitantly, wondering how the lady knew that she was already thinking of the money that she could get for them. As much as Chrysanthe would love to have the bangles to wear, the thought of what she could do with the money that they were worth….finally, finally she could find her way out of the debt that Rhode claimed she was in. It would be enough to buy her own supplies so that she could travel, and she could leave some money behind for the children as well, she wouldn’t want to leave them worse off just because she wanted to make her way in the world.
”Are you sure?” Chrysanthe said quietly, matching the low tone in which the bangles were offered to her. The last thing she wanted was for the gift to be revoked but she still couldn’t quite believe that this was something that she would be given willingly. ”Thank you...thank you so much.” Chrysanthe looked back down at the bangles in her hand, still stunned in disbelief at what had been offered to her. She only hoped that it wasn’t a dream that she was going to wake up from. Though she didn’t think that even in her wildest dreams she could have come up with such an outrageous scenario.
Chrysanthe hadn’t expected such generosity and kindness from people of such a high station. She had done nothing but admire a few baubles at a stand, and now she found herself the subject of the prince’s interest. She didn’t know what she had done to have such luck or such a curse. She still wasn’t entirely sure that the intentions of these people could be entirely benevolent. When the woman leaned forward and spoke so that only she could hear, Chrysanthe froze, her mouth dropping open at the generosity of the gift.
That was it, she decided, this was definitely a huge stroke of luck. She could never have believed that she would be casually offered golden bracelets like they were just nothing. Maybe for someone of her status, they were almost worthless to her. Who was she to know how things looked from a lady’s point of view. Chrysanthe looked to the bracelets and up at the lady’s face, trying to judge whether or not she was expected to refuse, but the lady looked insistent, even as she begged Chrysanthe to sell them if she wouldn’t wear them.
Chrysanthe took the bangles hesitantly, wondering how the lady knew that she was already thinking of the money that she could get for them. As much as Chrysanthe would love to have the bangles to wear, the thought of what she could do with the money that they were worth….finally, finally she could find her way out of the debt that Rhode claimed she was in. It would be enough to buy her own supplies so that she could travel, and she could leave some money behind for the children as well, she wouldn’t want to leave them worse off just because she wanted to make her way in the world.
”Are you sure?” Chrysanthe said quietly, matching the low tone in which the bangles were offered to her. The last thing she wanted was for the gift to be revoked but she still couldn’t quite believe that this was something that she would be given willingly. ”Thank you...thank you so much.” Chrysanthe looked back down at the bangles in her hand, still stunned in disbelief at what had been offered to her. She only hoped that it wasn’t a dream that she was going to wake up from. Though she didn’t think that even in her wildest dreams she could have come up with such an outrageous scenario.
As a prince, no matter how much he would not want to attend a function, it would be bad form to not show up. Then again, he knew his lover knew of his quirks, and how he disliked being in crowds at times, so he could not fault her for being surprised at her appearance at the festival. However brief it had been, he had noted the glimmer of being caught off guard in his lover's eyes, and smiled at her in return, almost a promise of more surprise to come in future, before his attention turned to others.
This was supposed to be a public event in which he put in an appearance, and so it makes no sense to further reinforce the fact that despite being married, he kept a mistress within his residence. That matter was something he would rather people forget, in favor of noticing how their new King behaved, in ways Irakles hoped reflected badly on him.
All for his benefit of course.
Watching as the young woman stammered an apology and a reassurance to them, he smiled in what he hoped was a soothing manner, but allowed Meena to take control of the young woman. He was a general, and it was expected that despite giving a soft disposition, the sight of the scars and muscles built over the years he had spent training and on the battlefield would intimidate many, much less a simple common lady in the capitol.
Nodding to back up Meena's reassurance that he was harmless, Irakles knew Meena had that argument down to pat. In public, she would extol upon his virtues as a kind man who simply wanted the best for Taengea - exactly what they needed at this important turn of times.
Keeping silent as Meena leaned in to the woman, he caught brief words or two, but chose to remain silent. Whatever favors Meena offered, or whichever person she chose to speak to, he trusted his mistress in ensuring that it was for the greater good of ensuring his victory in the upcoming Senate meet, or even for the journey to the gorge on the morrow. For unlike his wife, Meena met his every desires and wishes, and fulfilled his need to gain the support and trust of everyone in court, something his softer, lawfully wedded wife would not be able to do. Myrto had provided him with two sons, but Irakles was beginning to suspect that was all she could ever do for him.
By the time the common born lady thanked Meena, Irakles nodded, and picked up his mistress's hand. "She is of kind heart, is she not?" It was an indulgent smile that he flashed to Meena, before he tucked her hand between the crook of his arm, and offered a small tilt of his head to the young lady. "I'm afraid we must take our leave for now - but do remember, the Mikaelidas are always prepared to help, should any need come up."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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As a prince, no matter how much he would not want to attend a function, it would be bad form to not show up. Then again, he knew his lover knew of his quirks, and how he disliked being in crowds at times, so he could not fault her for being surprised at her appearance at the festival. However brief it had been, he had noted the glimmer of being caught off guard in his lover's eyes, and smiled at her in return, almost a promise of more surprise to come in future, before his attention turned to others.
This was supposed to be a public event in which he put in an appearance, and so it makes no sense to further reinforce the fact that despite being married, he kept a mistress within his residence. That matter was something he would rather people forget, in favor of noticing how their new King behaved, in ways Irakles hoped reflected badly on him.
All for his benefit of course.
Watching as the young woman stammered an apology and a reassurance to them, he smiled in what he hoped was a soothing manner, but allowed Meena to take control of the young woman. He was a general, and it was expected that despite giving a soft disposition, the sight of the scars and muscles built over the years he had spent training and on the battlefield would intimidate many, much less a simple common lady in the capitol.
Nodding to back up Meena's reassurance that he was harmless, Irakles knew Meena had that argument down to pat. In public, she would extol upon his virtues as a kind man who simply wanted the best for Taengea - exactly what they needed at this important turn of times.
Keeping silent as Meena leaned in to the woman, he caught brief words or two, but chose to remain silent. Whatever favors Meena offered, or whichever person she chose to speak to, he trusted his mistress in ensuring that it was for the greater good of ensuring his victory in the upcoming Senate meet, or even for the journey to the gorge on the morrow. For unlike his wife, Meena met his every desires and wishes, and fulfilled his need to gain the support and trust of everyone in court, something his softer, lawfully wedded wife would not be able to do. Myrto had provided him with two sons, but Irakles was beginning to suspect that was all she could ever do for him.
By the time the common born lady thanked Meena, Irakles nodded, and picked up his mistress's hand. "She is of kind heart, is she not?" It was an indulgent smile that he flashed to Meena, before he tucked her hand between the crook of his arm, and offered a small tilt of his head to the young lady. "I'm afraid we must take our leave for now - but do remember, the Mikaelidas are always prepared to help, should any need come up."
As a prince, no matter how much he would not want to attend a function, it would be bad form to not show up. Then again, he knew his lover knew of his quirks, and how he disliked being in crowds at times, so he could not fault her for being surprised at her appearance at the festival. However brief it had been, he had noted the glimmer of being caught off guard in his lover's eyes, and smiled at her in return, almost a promise of more surprise to come in future, before his attention turned to others.
This was supposed to be a public event in which he put in an appearance, and so it makes no sense to further reinforce the fact that despite being married, he kept a mistress within his residence. That matter was something he would rather people forget, in favor of noticing how their new King behaved, in ways Irakles hoped reflected badly on him.
All for his benefit of course.
Watching as the young woman stammered an apology and a reassurance to them, he smiled in what he hoped was a soothing manner, but allowed Meena to take control of the young woman. He was a general, and it was expected that despite giving a soft disposition, the sight of the scars and muscles built over the years he had spent training and on the battlefield would intimidate many, much less a simple common lady in the capitol.
Nodding to back up Meena's reassurance that he was harmless, Irakles knew Meena had that argument down to pat. In public, she would extol upon his virtues as a kind man who simply wanted the best for Taengea - exactly what they needed at this important turn of times.
Keeping silent as Meena leaned in to the woman, he caught brief words or two, but chose to remain silent. Whatever favors Meena offered, or whichever person she chose to speak to, he trusted his mistress in ensuring that it was for the greater good of ensuring his victory in the upcoming Senate meet, or even for the journey to the gorge on the morrow. For unlike his wife, Meena met his every desires and wishes, and fulfilled his need to gain the support and trust of everyone in court, something his softer, lawfully wedded wife would not be able to do. Myrto had provided him with two sons, but Irakles was beginning to suspect that was all she could ever do for him.
By the time the common born lady thanked Meena, Irakles nodded, and picked up his mistress's hand. "She is of kind heart, is she not?" It was an indulgent smile that he flashed to Meena, before he tucked her hand between the crook of his arm, and offered a small tilt of his head to the young lady. "I'm afraid we must take our leave for now - but do remember, the Mikaelidas are always prepared to help, should any need come up."
Chrysanthe was still staring wide eyed at the woman and her generosity as the prince approached them again. Chrysanthe quickly tucked the bangles into her bag, unsure whether or not the prince was supposed to know of the gift. Chrysanthe didn’t want to get the woman in trouble after everything she had just done for her. Although, when the prince took her hand and spoke, it became clear that he had at least some idea of what had passed between them. Still in shock that she was talking to the prince at all, Chrysanthe lowered her eyes “Yes...of course, my prince.” Chrysanthe stammered out in response to his question. While she did agree with the prince’s statement, she would have responded in the affirmative no matter what. She had never had the impression that those in power wanted honest answers, so much as they wanted to have someone tell them what they wanted to hear.
As the pair left, Chrysanthe was again surprised by the offer of generosity from the Mikaelidas family. While she would be happy to find that the offer was genuine, she had had little reason to believe that nobles would keep their promises to someone of her station. Once again alone in the market, Chrysanthe’s mind started whirring with what she needed to do next. The bangles felt impossibly heavy in her hand, and she felt she needed to rid herself of them before someone could question how someone of her station had come by such expensive items.
Chrysanthe wandered around the market until she spotted a jewelry seller who she often saw selling near her on market day. She approached him, “Excuse me, I was wondering if you bought jewelry as well as sold?” Chrysanthe asked hesitantly. A brief nod from the man led Chrysanthe to continue with her hastily spun story. “It’s just that...we had someone donate some jewelry in aid of the children...but you can’t feed children on jewelry, and the coin would be much easier to spend at the places I shop.” The man took a long look at her, surely he would have recognized her from all the days she had spent selling the goods produced by the children in Rhode’s home. After a moment he finally replied. ”Let’s see it then.” Chrysanthe handed over the bangles she had received, and waited as the man assessed the quality slowly and deliberately. As he counted out some coins, Chrysanthe’s eyes widened at the amount. More than she had hoped to expect. Chrysanthe smiled broadly back at the man as she took the coins and tucked them into her purse.. Now she just had to figure out what she was going to do with her newfound wealth.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Chrysanthe was still staring wide eyed at the woman and her generosity as the prince approached them again. Chrysanthe quickly tucked the bangles into her bag, unsure whether or not the prince was supposed to know of the gift. Chrysanthe didn’t want to get the woman in trouble after everything she had just done for her. Although, when the prince took her hand and spoke, it became clear that he had at least some idea of what had passed between them. Still in shock that she was talking to the prince at all, Chrysanthe lowered her eyes “Yes...of course, my prince.” Chrysanthe stammered out in response to his question. While she did agree with the prince’s statement, she would have responded in the affirmative no matter what. She had never had the impression that those in power wanted honest answers, so much as they wanted to have someone tell them what they wanted to hear.
As the pair left, Chrysanthe was again surprised by the offer of generosity from the Mikaelidas family. While she would be happy to find that the offer was genuine, she had had little reason to believe that nobles would keep their promises to someone of her station. Once again alone in the market, Chrysanthe’s mind started whirring with what she needed to do next. The bangles felt impossibly heavy in her hand, and she felt she needed to rid herself of them before someone could question how someone of her station had come by such expensive items.
Chrysanthe wandered around the market until she spotted a jewelry seller who she often saw selling near her on market day. She approached him, “Excuse me, I was wondering if you bought jewelry as well as sold?” Chrysanthe asked hesitantly. A brief nod from the man led Chrysanthe to continue with her hastily spun story. “It’s just that...we had someone donate some jewelry in aid of the children...but you can’t feed children on jewelry, and the coin would be much easier to spend at the places I shop.” The man took a long look at her, surely he would have recognized her from all the days she had spent selling the goods produced by the children in Rhode’s home. After a moment he finally replied. ”Let’s see it then.” Chrysanthe handed over the bangles she had received, and waited as the man assessed the quality slowly and deliberately. As he counted out some coins, Chrysanthe’s eyes widened at the amount. More than she had hoped to expect. Chrysanthe smiled broadly back at the man as she took the coins and tucked them into her purse.. Now she just had to figure out what she was going to do with her newfound wealth.
Chrysanthe was still staring wide eyed at the woman and her generosity as the prince approached them again. Chrysanthe quickly tucked the bangles into her bag, unsure whether or not the prince was supposed to know of the gift. Chrysanthe didn’t want to get the woman in trouble after everything she had just done for her. Although, when the prince took her hand and spoke, it became clear that he had at least some idea of what had passed between them. Still in shock that she was talking to the prince at all, Chrysanthe lowered her eyes “Yes...of course, my prince.” Chrysanthe stammered out in response to his question. While she did agree with the prince’s statement, she would have responded in the affirmative no matter what. She had never had the impression that those in power wanted honest answers, so much as they wanted to have someone tell them what they wanted to hear.
As the pair left, Chrysanthe was again surprised by the offer of generosity from the Mikaelidas family. While she would be happy to find that the offer was genuine, she had had little reason to believe that nobles would keep their promises to someone of her station. Once again alone in the market, Chrysanthe’s mind started whirring with what she needed to do next. The bangles felt impossibly heavy in her hand, and she felt she needed to rid herself of them before someone could question how someone of her station had come by such expensive items.
Chrysanthe wandered around the market until she spotted a jewelry seller who she often saw selling near her on market day. She approached him, “Excuse me, I was wondering if you bought jewelry as well as sold?” Chrysanthe asked hesitantly. A brief nod from the man led Chrysanthe to continue with her hastily spun story. “It’s just that...we had someone donate some jewelry in aid of the children...but you can’t feed children on jewelry, and the coin would be much easier to spend at the places I shop.” The man took a long look at her, surely he would have recognized her from all the days she had spent selling the goods produced by the children in Rhode’s home. After a moment he finally replied. ”Let’s see it then.” Chrysanthe handed over the bangles she had received, and waited as the man assessed the quality slowly and deliberately. As he counted out some coins, Chrysanthe’s eyes widened at the amount. More than she had hoped to expect. Chrysanthe smiled broadly back at the man as she took the coins and tucked them into her purse.. Now she just had to figure out what she was going to do with her newfound wealth.
