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It felt like only a day had passed since King Zenon was sent to dwell with Hades. In reality, Gianna knew it had been close to a fortnight, but her latest routine had caused the days to bleed together, effectively stripping her of any awareness of the passage of time. Sleepless nights eventually gave way to mornings fraught with perturbation. While things in Taengea appeared to have calmed down since the initial attacks on the circus, Gianna couldn’t seem to rid herself of the dread that had relentlessly gripped her heart in its icy claws since she heard the news of her father’s death––no, murder.
This morning was no exception. The young princess had achieved a few elusive hours of sleep–more than she had in the nights past–but she was still drained from the images that assaulted her every time she closed her eyes. They would bombard her mind’s eye until she gave up on sleep altogether or grew too weary to fight them and fell into an agitated slumber. Gianna had dreamed of that day at the circus as she often did.
The Drowned had circled her, a swirling black vortex where faces should have been. They had kept her from reaching Zenon and Zacharias and forced her to watch, frozen with horror, as her father was beheaded. Her brother’s downfall was less predictable. She had seen him beaten to death, set on fire, and even trampled by his own chariot team. Most recently, she witnessed him overpowered and suffocated by a Drowned. That had apparently been enough to shake Gianna from her sleep. She shot out of bed, tangled in the sheets and slick with a cold sweat.
“Your highness."
The princess whirled to face the voice, a nervous woman, and maybe a few years Gianna’s junior. She had never seen this particular slave before. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the other woman, searching for some ambiguous sign of danger. She came to the decision this newcomer posed no threat, or rather if she did turn out to be dangerous, Gianna could defend herself. The blonde composed herself, resembling the sophisticated princess she was raised to be for the first time since her world shattered to her feet.
“Yes?” Her voice was cold, but even, a challenge to the slave and a trick she had learned from watching her elder sister.
“King Stephanos…he’s announced his marriage to Lady–Queen Olympia formerly of Leventi.” the slave delivered her message and quickly bowed her head.
“Leave.” Gianna barely recognized her voice as the word passed her lips. The girl wasted no time and the princess was once more left with her thoughts. Stephanos had married? Olympia? She had overheard servants whispering about some secret wedding, but she was not one to speculate on servants’ gossip, much less on the involvement of her own family members. But the confirmation that her own brother had wed without bothering to include Gianna set her blood boiling, a sensation she never knew she was capable of experiencing.
She dressed, shooing away her attendants, and made quick work of her hair, combing out her nightmares before plaiting it into a thick braid. Once she deemed herself presentable Gianna stormed the halls in search of her remaining brother. Their family had gone through far too much to be excluding one another now. Her first instinct was to check his bed, but it was empty. Of course, he was the king now he had responsibilities. So the princess turned her fury towards the throne room, not even bothering to knock as she made her entrance.
“What did you do?” Gianna hissed, her narrow gaze fixed on Stephanos.
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It felt like only a day had passed since King Zenon was sent to dwell with Hades. In reality, Gianna knew it had been close to a fortnight, but her latest routine had caused the days to bleed together, effectively stripping her of any awareness of the passage of time. Sleepless nights eventually gave way to mornings fraught with perturbation. While things in Taengea appeared to have calmed down since the initial attacks on the circus, Gianna couldn’t seem to rid herself of the dread that had relentlessly gripped her heart in its icy claws since she heard the news of her father’s death––no, murder.
This morning was no exception. The young princess had achieved a few elusive hours of sleep–more than she had in the nights past–but she was still drained from the images that assaulted her every time she closed her eyes. They would bombard her mind’s eye until she gave up on sleep altogether or grew too weary to fight them and fell into an agitated slumber. Gianna had dreamed of that day at the circus as she often did.
The Drowned had circled her, a swirling black vortex where faces should have been. They had kept her from reaching Zenon and Zacharias and forced her to watch, frozen with horror, as her father was beheaded. Her brother’s downfall was less predictable. She had seen him beaten to death, set on fire, and even trampled by his own chariot team. Most recently, she witnessed him overpowered and suffocated by a Drowned. That had apparently been enough to shake Gianna from her sleep. She shot out of bed, tangled in the sheets and slick with a cold sweat.
“Your highness."
The princess whirled to face the voice, a nervous woman, and maybe a few years Gianna’s junior. She had never seen this particular slave before. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the other woman, searching for some ambiguous sign of danger. She came to the decision this newcomer posed no threat, or rather if she did turn out to be dangerous, Gianna could defend herself. The blonde composed herself, resembling the sophisticated princess she was raised to be for the first time since her world shattered to her feet.
“Yes?” Her voice was cold, but even, a challenge to the slave and a trick she had learned from watching her elder sister.
“King Stephanos…he’s announced his marriage to Lady–Queen Olympia formerly of Leventi.” the slave delivered her message and quickly bowed her head.
“Leave.” Gianna barely recognized her voice as the word passed her lips. The girl wasted no time and the princess was once more left with her thoughts. Stephanos had married? Olympia? She had overheard servants whispering about some secret wedding, but she was not one to speculate on servants’ gossip, much less on the involvement of her own family members. But the confirmation that her own brother had wed without bothering to include Gianna set her blood boiling, a sensation she never knew she was capable of experiencing.
She dressed, shooing away her attendants, and made quick work of her hair, combing out her nightmares before plaiting it into a thick braid. Once she deemed herself presentable Gianna stormed the halls in search of her remaining brother. Their family had gone through far too much to be excluding one another now. Her first instinct was to check his bed, but it was empty. Of course, he was the king now he had responsibilities. So the princess turned her fury towards the throne room, not even bothering to knock as she made her entrance.
“What did you do?” Gianna hissed, her narrow gaze fixed on Stephanos.
It felt like only a day had passed since King Zenon was sent to dwell with Hades. In reality, Gianna knew it had been close to a fortnight, but her latest routine had caused the days to bleed together, effectively stripping her of any awareness of the passage of time. Sleepless nights eventually gave way to mornings fraught with perturbation. While things in Taengea appeared to have calmed down since the initial attacks on the circus, Gianna couldn’t seem to rid herself of the dread that had relentlessly gripped her heart in its icy claws since she heard the news of her father’s death––no, murder.
This morning was no exception. The young princess had achieved a few elusive hours of sleep–more than she had in the nights past–but she was still drained from the images that assaulted her every time she closed her eyes. They would bombard her mind’s eye until she gave up on sleep altogether or grew too weary to fight them and fell into an agitated slumber. Gianna had dreamed of that day at the circus as she often did.
The Drowned had circled her, a swirling black vortex where faces should have been. They had kept her from reaching Zenon and Zacharias and forced her to watch, frozen with horror, as her father was beheaded. Her brother’s downfall was less predictable. She had seen him beaten to death, set on fire, and even trampled by his own chariot team. Most recently, she witnessed him overpowered and suffocated by a Drowned. That had apparently been enough to shake Gianna from her sleep. She shot out of bed, tangled in the sheets and slick with a cold sweat.
“Your highness."
The princess whirled to face the voice, a nervous woman, and maybe a few years Gianna’s junior. She had never seen this particular slave before. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the other woman, searching for some ambiguous sign of danger. She came to the decision this newcomer posed no threat, or rather if she did turn out to be dangerous, Gianna could defend herself. The blonde composed herself, resembling the sophisticated princess she was raised to be for the first time since her world shattered to her feet.
“Yes?” Her voice was cold, but even, a challenge to the slave and a trick she had learned from watching her elder sister.
“King Stephanos…he’s announced his marriage to Lady–Queen Olympia formerly of Leventi.” the slave delivered her message and quickly bowed her head.
“Leave.” Gianna barely recognized her voice as the word passed her lips. The girl wasted no time and the princess was once more left with her thoughts. Stephanos had married? Olympia? She had overheard servants whispering about some secret wedding, but she was not one to speculate on servants’ gossip, much less on the involvement of her own family members. But the confirmation that her own brother had wed without bothering to include Gianna set her blood boiling, a sensation she never knew she was capable of experiencing.
She dressed, shooing away her attendants, and made quick work of her hair, combing out her nightmares before plaiting it into a thick braid. Once she deemed herself presentable Gianna stormed the halls in search of her remaining brother. Their family had gone through far too much to be excluding one another now. Her first instinct was to check his bed, but it was empty. Of course, he was the king now he had responsibilities. So the princess turned her fury towards the throne room, not even bothering to knock as she made her entrance.
“What did you do?” Gianna hissed, her narrow gaze fixed on Stephanos.
Long gone were the days when he would still be abed at this hour, tangled up with a girl whose name he may or may not know. When Gianna burst into the throne room, he wasn’t standing there, muddled and confused, hung over from the night before. His mind was alert and focused. It wasn’t yet time to open the court to the people. His throne stood empty.
Instead he stood with an arm on its top, leaning against the throne, speaking to one of his father’s aged advisors. The old man used harsh whispers, making it so that Stephanos had to bend down and keep his ear turned perpetually toward the man in order to make out anything he was saying. He didn’t mind too much. This man’s voice had been ruined in battle and he’d never heard him say anything above a rasp. The benefit was that it didn’t echo around the cavernous chamber.
“What did you do?”
Gianna’s voice echoed off the marbled floor and white stone walls. Stephanos jerked his head in her direction, frowning in confusion. She looked hot with uncharacteristic anger. The advisor laid a withered hand on Stephanos’s shoulder. “Excuse me,” he whispered. “I’ll come back later.”
“No,” Stephanos returned the gesture, locking the old man in place by keeping his strong hand on the man’s back. “No, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it. We’re not done with Irakles.” The advisor shifted uncomfortably but nodded with a “Your Majesty,” and stayed put.
“Gianna,” he smiled at her but when it wasn’t returned, he dropped it as he strode down the short steps leading down from the throne’s pedestal to the main standing room. Columns lined the round room and between each one on the ceiling was an open air window, letting in rectangles of natural light, creating a mosaic on the throne room floor. A round circle swathed the room’s apex in relative shadow and it was in this that Stephanos stopped, waiting for her to step out of the light and come the rest of the way to meet him.
“What is the matter with you?” he hissed. “You are not a child. Do not storm into the throne room and make a scene.” This was a rich lecture, considering the source. The hypocrisy of the statement didn’t escape him but he ignored it.
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Long gone were the days when he would still be abed at this hour, tangled up with a girl whose name he may or may not know. When Gianna burst into the throne room, he wasn’t standing there, muddled and confused, hung over from the night before. His mind was alert and focused. It wasn’t yet time to open the court to the people. His throne stood empty.
Instead he stood with an arm on its top, leaning against the throne, speaking to one of his father’s aged advisors. The old man used harsh whispers, making it so that Stephanos had to bend down and keep his ear turned perpetually toward the man in order to make out anything he was saying. He didn’t mind too much. This man’s voice had been ruined in battle and he’d never heard him say anything above a rasp. The benefit was that it didn’t echo around the cavernous chamber.
“What did you do?”
Gianna’s voice echoed off the marbled floor and white stone walls. Stephanos jerked his head in her direction, frowning in confusion. She looked hot with uncharacteristic anger. The advisor laid a withered hand on Stephanos’s shoulder. “Excuse me,” he whispered. “I’ll come back later.”
“No,” Stephanos returned the gesture, locking the old man in place by keeping his strong hand on the man’s back. “No, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it. We’re not done with Irakles.” The advisor shifted uncomfortably but nodded with a “Your Majesty,” and stayed put.
“Gianna,” he smiled at her but when it wasn’t returned, he dropped it as he strode down the short steps leading down from the throne’s pedestal to the main standing room. Columns lined the round room and between each one on the ceiling was an open air window, letting in rectangles of natural light, creating a mosaic on the throne room floor. A round circle swathed the room’s apex in relative shadow and it was in this that Stephanos stopped, waiting for her to step out of the light and come the rest of the way to meet him.
“What is the matter with you?” he hissed. “You are not a child. Do not storm into the throne room and make a scene.” This was a rich lecture, considering the source. The hypocrisy of the statement didn’t escape him but he ignored it.
Long gone were the days when he would still be abed at this hour, tangled up with a girl whose name he may or may not know. When Gianna burst into the throne room, he wasn’t standing there, muddled and confused, hung over from the night before. His mind was alert and focused. It wasn’t yet time to open the court to the people. His throne stood empty.
Instead he stood with an arm on its top, leaning against the throne, speaking to one of his father’s aged advisors. The old man used harsh whispers, making it so that Stephanos had to bend down and keep his ear turned perpetually toward the man in order to make out anything he was saying. He didn’t mind too much. This man’s voice had been ruined in battle and he’d never heard him say anything above a rasp. The benefit was that it didn’t echo around the cavernous chamber.
“What did you do?”
Gianna’s voice echoed off the marbled floor and white stone walls. Stephanos jerked his head in her direction, frowning in confusion. She looked hot with uncharacteristic anger. The advisor laid a withered hand on Stephanos’s shoulder. “Excuse me,” he whispered. “I’ll come back later.”
“No,” Stephanos returned the gesture, locking the old man in place by keeping his strong hand on the man’s back. “No, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it. We’re not done with Irakles.” The advisor shifted uncomfortably but nodded with a “Your Majesty,” and stayed put.
“Gianna,” he smiled at her but when it wasn’t returned, he dropped it as he strode down the short steps leading down from the throne’s pedestal to the main standing room. Columns lined the round room and between each one on the ceiling was an open air window, letting in rectangles of natural light, creating a mosaic on the throne room floor. A round circle swathed the room’s apex in relative shadow and it was in this that Stephanos stopped, waiting for her to step out of the light and come the rest of the way to meet him.
“What is the matter with you?” he hissed. “You are not a child. Do not storm into the throne room and make a scene.” This was a rich lecture, considering the source. The hypocrisy of the statement didn’t escape him but he ignored it.
It took all of Gianna’s willpower not to retreat. She had made such a powerful entrance, she would have been proud of herself had she not been so focused on her anger. But to back down, to abandon her course of action now and concede defeat when she had just begun? Was she not a Mikaelidas? Death before dishonor was their rallying cry and giving up was the fastest route to dishonor, even in the most trivial of matters. Having successfully convinced herself to stand her ground, Gianna squared her shoulders in the doorway, her eyes affixed to Stephanos as he descended the dais and addressed her.
“Gianna.”
A smile played at her brother’s lips, but Gianna scowled back, feeling a brief tickle of triumph when his smile fell. She watched him, tracing the man’s path as he approached and halted just halfway across the chamber. The tension was palpable as she stepped out of her rectangle of diffuse light, the shift in temperature sending an involuntary shiver up her spine as Gianna closed the distance. At least, that’s what she told herself. She knew from the way he walked, quiet but with a razor sharp edge just beneath the surface of his demeanor, that she had truly run afoul of Stephanos.
“What is the matter with you? You are not a child. Do not storm into the throne room and make a scene.” There it was.
“Am I not a child?” she mocked with feigned disbelief. “You certainly had me fooled!” Gianna crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip to the side, signaling to her brother that she was firmly committed to seeing this conflict through to the bitter end. She had been observing her siblings for twenty-two years and she was not above channeling Xene in order to make herself heard, even if that involved tossing a few tables and smashing a few valuables
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It took all of Gianna’s willpower not to retreat. She had made such a powerful entrance, she would have been proud of herself had she not been so focused on her anger. But to back down, to abandon her course of action now and concede defeat when she had just begun? Was she not a Mikaelidas? Death before dishonor was their rallying cry and giving up was the fastest route to dishonor, even in the most trivial of matters. Having successfully convinced herself to stand her ground, Gianna squared her shoulders in the doorway, her eyes affixed to Stephanos as he descended the dais and addressed her.
“Gianna.”
A smile played at her brother’s lips, but Gianna scowled back, feeling a brief tickle of triumph when his smile fell. She watched him, tracing the man’s path as he approached and halted just halfway across the chamber. The tension was palpable as she stepped out of her rectangle of diffuse light, the shift in temperature sending an involuntary shiver up her spine as Gianna closed the distance. At least, that’s what she told herself. She knew from the way he walked, quiet but with a razor sharp edge just beneath the surface of his demeanor, that she had truly run afoul of Stephanos.
“What is the matter with you? You are not a child. Do not storm into the throne room and make a scene.” There it was.
“Am I not a child?” she mocked with feigned disbelief. “You certainly had me fooled!” Gianna crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip to the side, signaling to her brother that she was firmly committed to seeing this conflict through to the bitter end. She had been observing her siblings for twenty-two years and she was not above channeling Xene in order to make herself heard, even if that involved tossing a few tables and smashing a few valuables
It took all of Gianna’s willpower not to retreat. She had made such a powerful entrance, she would have been proud of herself had she not been so focused on her anger. But to back down, to abandon her course of action now and concede defeat when she had just begun? Was she not a Mikaelidas? Death before dishonor was their rallying cry and giving up was the fastest route to dishonor, even in the most trivial of matters. Having successfully convinced herself to stand her ground, Gianna squared her shoulders in the doorway, her eyes affixed to Stephanos as he descended the dais and addressed her.
“Gianna.”
A smile played at her brother’s lips, but Gianna scowled back, feeling a brief tickle of triumph when his smile fell. She watched him, tracing the man’s path as he approached and halted just halfway across the chamber. The tension was palpable as she stepped out of her rectangle of diffuse light, the shift in temperature sending an involuntary shiver up her spine as Gianna closed the distance. At least, that’s what she told herself. She knew from the way he walked, quiet but with a razor sharp edge just beneath the surface of his demeanor, that she had truly run afoul of Stephanos.
“What is the matter with you? You are not a child. Do not storm into the throne room and make a scene.” There it was.
“Am I not a child?” she mocked with feigned disbelief. “You certainly had me fooled!” Gianna crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip to the side, signaling to her brother that she was firmly committed to seeing this conflict through to the bitter end. She had been observing her siblings for twenty-two years and she was not above channeling Xene in order to make herself heard, even if that involved tossing a few tables and smashing a few valuables
“Am I not a child? You certainly had me fooled!”
Stephanos narrowed his eyes as she crossed her arms and adopted an attitude he’d not seen from her before. Her anger was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Perhaps he should have kept her with the Dimitrous. At least there she wouldn’t be giving him the kind of glare that he’d come to associate with Xene, not his sweet little baby sister.
With a backward glance over his shoulder and a smile for the advisor, he stepped forward and hooked an arm around Gianna’s shoulders, hugging her against him and walking toward the side of the room where they’d be at least partially hidden by the columns and not out in the open for anyone to see as they walked in. It would just be honey on a spoon for Irakles to see him fighting with Gia. The man was everywhere and he was getting paranoid that he was being followed by either his uncle, or people his uncle was paying.
“Sweet sister,” he said loud enough for the advisor and all the servants to hear. Just as he shuffled Gia to the side, two more of his father’s advisors walked in, deep in their own conversation. Court would open soon. He needed to get this situation in hand before then. When the aged advisor smiled a little and his body took on a more relaxed position, Stephanos stuffed Gianna out of sight behind a column.
He leaned forward, his hand above her head on the column as he glared down at her. “What is the matter?” he repeated. “You do realize that making a scene in the throne room makes me look like I don’t have things handled.” His other hand closed into a fist that he pressed against his lips. The next words he spoke came from behind his fist. “What I need from you, and from mother, and from Xene is just to...stay….out of the way. Ok? Let me just....deal with Irakles.”
Each morning, his mother would be waiting by the door, ready to flap at him and fuss over his clothing to see if he was properly dressed. She’d started to become obsessed with him, whether he had eaten enough, was he sober, how was he treating Olympia, had he felt the baby move, wasn’t Irakles just the sweetest for helping?
Xene had been zero help lately either. All her advice had essentially amounted to ‘grow up’ which was what he was attempting to do. Now Gianna had a problem with him too. As he looked down at her, he thought of all kinds of things that would keep her occupied and probably howling in rage at him as she was trundled off to an island somewhere for safe keeping until he could figure out where to marry her off to. It was cold and unlike him but he was stressed. He didn’t want fighting.
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“Am I not a child? You certainly had me fooled!”
Stephanos narrowed his eyes as she crossed her arms and adopted an attitude he’d not seen from her before. Her anger was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Perhaps he should have kept her with the Dimitrous. At least there she wouldn’t be giving him the kind of glare that he’d come to associate with Xene, not his sweet little baby sister.
With a backward glance over his shoulder and a smile for the advisor, he stepped forward and hooked an arm around Gianna’s shoulders, hugging her against him and walking toward the side of the room where they’d be at least partially hidden by the columns and not out in the open for anyone to see as they walked in. It would just be honey on a spoon for Irakles to see him fighting with Gia. The man was everywhere and he was getting paranoid that he was being followed by either his uncle, or people his uncle was paying.
“Sweet sister,” he said loud enough for the advisor and all the servants to hear. Just as he shuffled Gia to the side, two more of his father’s advisors walked in, deep in their own conversation. Court would open soon. He needed to get this situation in hand before then. When the aged advisor smiled a little and his body took on a more relaxed position, Stephanos stuffed Gianna out of sight behind a column.
He leaned forward, his hand above her head on the column as he glared down at her. “What is the matter?” he repeated. “You do realize that making a scene in the throne room makes me look like I don’t have things handled.” His other hand closed into a fist that he pressed against his lips. The next words he spoke came from behind his fist. “What I need from you, and from mother, and from Xene is just to...stay….out of the way. Ok? Let me just....deal with Irakles.”
Each morning, his mother would be waiting by the door, ready to flap at him and fuss over his clothing to see if he was properly dressed. She’d started to become obsessed with him, whether he had eaten enough, was he sober, how was he treating Olympia, had he felt the baby move, wasn’t Irakles just the sweetest for helping?
Xene had been zero help lately either. All her advice had essentially amounted to ‘grow up’ which was what he was attempting to do. Now Gianna had a problem with him too. As he looked down at her, he thought of all kinds of things that would keep her occupied and probably howling in rage at him as she was trundled off to an island somewhere for safe keeping until he could figure out where to marry her off to. It was cold and unlike him but he was stressed. He didn’t want fighting.
“Am I not a child? You certainly had me fooled!”
Stephanos narrowed his eyes as she crossed her arms and adopted an attitude he’d not seen from her before. Her anger was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Perhaps he should have kept her with the Dimitrous. At least there she wouldn’t be giving him the kind of glare that he’d come to associate with Xene, not his sweet little baby sister.
With a backward glance over his shoulder and a smile for the advisor, he stepped forward and hooked an arm around Gianna’s shoulders, hugging her against him and walking toward the side of the room where they’d be at least partially hidden by the columns and not out in the open for anyone to see as they walked in. It would just be honey on a spoon for Irakles to see him fighting with Gia. The man was everywhere and he was getting paranoid that he was being followed by either his uncle, or people his uncle was paying.
“Sweet sister,” he said loud enough for the advisor and all the servants to hear. Just as he shuffled Gia to the side, two more of his father’s advisors walked in, deep in their own conversation. Court would open soon. He needed to get this situation in hand before then. When the aged advisor smiled a little and his body took on a more relaxed position, Stephanos stuffed Gianna out of sight behind a column.
He leaned forward, his hand above her head on the column as he glared down at her. “What is the matter?” he repeated. “You do realize that making a scene in the throne room makes me look like I don’t have things handled.” His other hand closed into a fist that he pressed against his lips. The next words he spoke came from behind his fist. “What I need from you, and from mother, and from Xene is just to...stay….out of the way. Ok? Let me just....deal with Irakles.”
Each morning, his mother would be waiting by the door, ready to flap at him and fuss over his clothing to see if he was properly dressed. She’d started to become obsessed with him, whether he had eaten enough, was he sober, how was he treating Olympia, had he felt the baby move, wasn’t Irakles just the sweetest for helping?
Xene had been zero help lately either. All her advice had essentially amounted to ‘grow up’ which was what he was attempting to do. Now Gianna had a problem with him too. As he looked down at her, he thought of all kinds of things that would keep her occupied and probably howling in rage at him as she was trundled off to an island somewhere for safe keeping until he could figure out where to marry her off to. It was cold and unlike him but he was stressed. He didn’t want fighting.
She had been trying to stay out of the way for the most part. If Stephanos asked for help or her opinion in any way, she gave it but otherwise focused entirely on staying as healthy and relaxed as possible to allow their son to grow. Ever since the announcement of their marriage had been made public, Olympia had asked if she might one day attend the meetings in the throne room for just a little while to observe the goings on. Her reasoning had been if anyone ever asked for her favor or input she wanted to be aware of the processes and how Stephanos preferred to handle things before making any sort of commitment or promise that would not be well received.
It seemed her request hadn’t been remembered as the door was opened to admit her to the throne room. Draped in a dark red chiton that was loose enough to accommodate the swell of her belly, her dark curls were swept up off her neck and adorned with a simple band of gold. Her jewelry was equally simple, only her necklace with the drop of moonstone at the end. The goal was to appear as regal as possible but without being too much, too over the top, too much a social climber as whispers said. Pia spotted Stephanos and Gianna descending towards one of the columns, walking close enough to be seen but not so close as to eavesdrop on the siblings conversation.
As her husband tugged his sister behind one of them for what appeared to be quite the serious chat, she raised her brow and chose to ignore it for the moment, approaching the old advisor behind the throne instead with a smile. The general had been a guest of her father’s in the past so she knew him passing well.
”Sir, I hope I’m not interrupting. My husband had said I might take a moment to sit with him during the meetings today so I could watch him work. Never too early to expose the little one to his future.”
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She had been trying to stay out of the way for the most part. If Stephanos asked for help or her opinion in any way, she gave it but otherwise focused entirely on staying as healthy and relaxed as possible to allow their son to grow. Ever since the announcement of their marriage had been made public, Olympia had asked if she might one day attend the meetings in the throne room for just a little while to observe the goings on. Her reasoning had been if anyone ever asked for her favor or input she wanted to be aware of the processes and how Stephanos preferred to handle things before making any sort of commitment or promise that would not be well received.
It seemed her request hadn’t been remembered as the door was opened to admit her to the throne room. Draped in a dark red chiton that was loose enough to accommodate the swell of her belly, her dark curls were swept up off her neck and adorned with a simple band of gold. Her jewelry was equally simple, only her necklace with the drop of moonstone at the end. The goal was to appear as regal as possible but without being too much, too over the top, too much a social climber as whispers said. Pia spotted Stephanos and Gianna descending towards one of the columns, walking close enough to be seen but not so close as to eavesdrop on the siblings conversation.
As her husband tugged his sister behind one of them for what appeared to be quite the serious chat, she raised her brow and chose to ignore it for the moment, approaching the old advisor behind the throne instead with a smile. The general had been a guest of her father’s in the past so she knew him passing well.
”Sir, I hope I’m not interrupting. My husband had said I might take a moment to sit with him during the meetings today so I could watch him work. Never too early to expose the little one to his future.”
She had been trying to stay out of the way for the most part. If Stephanos asked for help or her opinion in any way, she gave it but otherwise focused entirely on staying as healthy and relaxed as possible to allow their son to grow. Ever since the announcement of their marriage had been made public, Olympia had asked if she might one day attend the meetings in the throne room for just a little while to observe the goings on. Her reasoning had been if anyone ever asked for her favor or input she wanted to be aware of the processes and how Stephanos preferred to handle things before making any sort of commitment or promise that would not be well received.
It seemed her request hadn’t been remembered as the door was opened to admit her to the throne room. Draped in a dark red chiton that was loose enough to accommodate the swell of her belly, her dark curls were swept up off her neck and adorned with a simple band of gold. Her jewelry was equally simple, only her necklace with the drop of moonstone at the end. The goal was to appear as regal as possible but without being too much, too over the top, too much a social climber as whispers said. Pia spotted Stephanos and Gianna descending towards one of the columns, walking close enough to be seen but not so close as to eavesdrop on the siblings conversation.
As her husband tugged his sister behind one of them for what appeared to be quite the serious chat, she raised her brow and chose to ignore it for the moment, approaching the old advisor behind the throne instead with a smile. The general had been a guest of her father’s in the past so she knew him passing well.
”Sir, I hope I’m not interrupting. My husband had said I might take a moment to sit with him during the meetings today so I could watch him work. Never too early to expose the little one to his future.”
Gianna fought the urge to relax into her brother’s familiar embrace as Stephanos guided her towards the columns. Guilt pricked her conscience, a startling yet not entirely unforeseen consequence of her behavior. She shifted nervously as his grip tightened, crushing her to his side. She couldn’t escape even if she tried, the grim thought crossed her mind. Steph’s saccharine tone of voice as he declared her, “Sweet sister,” to his growing audience was juxtaposed with quickly shoving her out of sight behind a column where she could be properly chastised.
While she knew Stephanos would never lay a hand on her in anger, Gianna still shrank beneath the weight of his glare. She also knew he was stressed, of course, he was stressed, she would be more worried for her brother if having the ultimate responsibility forced onto his shoulders did not cause him stress. But it was usually Xene causing the disruption with Stephanos talking down their headstrong sister and this dynamic was one she was more accustomed to watching than participating in. It was simply confirmation that their world had been rattled beyond recognition and they were powerless to effect change.
“What is the matter? You do realize that making a scene in the throne room makes me look like I don’t have things handled.” Whatever remorse Gianna had been experiencing was quickly smothered by her brother’s words. Of course, he would make this––a situation that affected their whole family as well as the entire kingdom––about himself. “What I need from you, and from mother, and from Xene is just to...stay….out of the way. Ok? Let me just....deal with Irakles.”
Gianna stared at him, trying to put her thoughts in order while simultaneously reigning in her contempt so as not to initiate a full-blown physical altercation on the floor of the throne room. What a way to honor their deceased father and brother, by allowing their emotions to overrule their judgment and brawling like a pair of bucks in rut. She had heard the rumors, whispers that Stephanos was incompetent, that Irakles was the puppet master pulling all the strings. But she was not driven by the gossip of the court, Gianna was motivated exclusively by her own grief and the fact that Stephanos did not appear to care about adding to his family’s burdens.
“Do you truly not understand?” her voice faltered as the last tendrils of her rage gave way to heartache and comprehension. How could Stephanos not see that marrying in haste and secrecy on the heels of tragedy would cause hurt? What else was he concealing from his own blood? “Stephanos, you married Lady Olympia––what shall I call her now?––and I was informed along with the rest of the kingdom. The last thing I or mother or Xene should be doing is staying out of your way. We cannot allow our family to fall apart and grow distant from one another, that’s what they want.”
Tears threatened to overpower Gianna as she recalled the attacks organized by the Creed. She dropped her eyes to the floor, unwilling to surrender to her emotions just yet. The court would open any minute and she was not going to reinforce her reputation for being insignificant by crying in front of spectators, especially when her new sister was amongst the crowd.
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Gianna fought the urge to relax into her brother’s familiar embrace as Stephanos guided her towards the columns. Guilt pricked her conscience, a startling yet not entirely unforeseen consequence of her behavior. She shifted nervously as his grip tightened, crushing her to his side. She couldn’t escape even if she tried, the grim thought crossed her mind. Steph’s saccharine tone of voice as he declared her, “Sweet sister,” to his growing audience was juxtaposed with quickly shoving her out of sight behind a column where she could be properly chastised.
While she knew Stephanos would never lay a hand on her in anger, Gianna still shrank beneath the weight of his glare. She also knew he was stressed, of course, he was stressed, she would be more worried for her brother if having the ultimate responsibility forced onto his shoulders did not cause him stress. But it was usually Xene causing the disruption with Stephanos talking down their headstrong sister and this dynamic was one she was more accustomed to watching than participating in. It was simply confirmation that their world had been rattled beyond recognition and they were powerless to effect change.
“What is the matter? You do realize that making a scene in the throne room makes me look like I don’t have things handled.” Whatever remorse Gianna had been experiencing was quickly smothered by her brother’s words. Of course, he would make this––a situation that affected their whole family as well as the entire kingdom––about himself. “What I need from you, and from mother, and from Xene is just to...stay….out of the way. Ok? Let me just....deal with Irakles.”
Gianna stared at him, trying to put her thoughts in order while simultaneously reigning in her contempt so as not to initiate a full-blown physical altercation on the floor of the throne room. What a way to honor their deceased father and brother, by allowing their emotions to overrule their judgment and brawling like a pair of bucks in rut. She had heard the rumors, whispers that Stephanos was incompetent, that Irakles was the puppet master pulling all the strings. But she was not driven by the gossip of the court, Gianna was motivated exclusively by her own grief and the fact that Stephanos did not appear to care about adding to his family’s burdens.
“Do you truly not understand?” her voice faltered as the last tendrils of her rage gave way to heartache and comprehension. How could Stephanos not see that marrying in haste and secrecy on the heels of tragedy would cause hurt? What else was he concealing from his own blood? “Stephanos, you married Lady Olympia––what shall I call her now?––and I was informed along with the rest of the kingdom. The last thing I or mother or Xene should be doing is staying out of your way. We cannot allow our family to fall apart and grow distant from one another, that’s what they want.”
Tears threatened to overpower Gianna as she recalled the attacks organized by the Creed. She dropped her eyes to the floor, unwilling to surrender to her emotions just yet. The court would open any minute and she was not going to reinforce her reputation for being insignificant by crying in front of spectators, especially when her new sister was amongst the crowd.
Gianna fought the urge to relax into her brother’s familiar embrace as Stephanos guided her towards the columns. Guilt pricked her conscience, a startling yet not entirely unforeseen consequence of her behavior. She shifted nervously as his grip tightened, crushing her to his side. She couldn’t escape even if she tried, the grim thought crossed her mind. Steph’s saccharine tone of voice as he declared her, “Sweet sister,” to his growing audience was juxtaposed with quickly shoving her out of sight behind a column where she could be properly chastised.
While she knew Stephanos would never lay a hand on her in anger, Gianna still shrank beneath the weight of his glare. She also knew he was stressed, of course, he was stressed, she would be more worried for her brother if having the ultimate responsibility forced onto his shoulders did not cause him stress. But it was usually Xene causing the disruption with Stephanos talking down their headstrong sister and this dynamic was one she was more accustomed to watching than participating in. It was simply confirmation that their world had been rattled beyond recognition and they were powerless to effect change.
“What is the matter? You do realize that making a scene in the throne room makes me look like I don’t have things handled.” Whatever remorse Gianna had been experiencing was quickly smothered by her brother’s words. Of course, he would make this––a situation that affected their whole family as well as the entire kingdom––about himself. “What I need from you, and from mother, and from Xene is just to...stay….out of the way. Ok? Let me just....deal with Irakles.”
Gianna stared at him, trying to put her thoughts in order while simultaneously reigning in her contempt so as not to initiate a full-blown physical altercation on the floor of the throne room. What a way to honor their deceased father and brother, by allowing their emotions to overrule their judgment and brawling like a pair of bucks in rut. She had heard the rumors, whispers that Stephanos was incompetent, that Irakles was the puppet master pulling all the strings. But she was not driven by the gossip of the court, Gianna was motivated exclusively by her own grief and the fact that Stephanos did not appear to care about adding to his family’s burdens.
“Do you truly not understand?” her voice faltered as the last tendrils of her rage gave way to heartache and comprehension. How could Stephanos not see that marrying in haste and secrecy on the heels of tragedy would cause hurt? What else was he concealing from his own blood? “Stephanos, you married Lady Olympia––what shall I call her now?––and I was informed along with the rest of the kingdom. The last thing I or mother or Xene should be doing is staying out of your way. We cannot allow our family to fall apart and grow distant from one another, that’s what they want.”
Tears threatened to overpower Gianna as she recalled the attacks organized by the Creed. She dropped her eyes to the floor, unwilling to surrender to her emotions just yet. The court would open any minute and she was not going to reinforce her reputation for being insignificant by crying in front of spectators, especially when her new sister was amongst the crowd.
The doors to the throne room opened but he didn’t look around the column to see who had come. The room would soon be filled with advisors, nobles, and a long, long line of people who had grievances that only the king could possibly sort out. If he had to deal with one more complaint of horses trampling a neighbor’s crops, or disputes about whose fence was on whose land, he was going to snap.
As Gianna’s doe eyed gaze peered up at him from a face contorted in anguish, he felt his insides twist in guilt even before she finally told him what he’d done.
“Gianna!” he groaned, and swung away from her so that he didn’t have to see the hurt and anger on her face anymore. “I just - I can’t do this right now.” Olympia came into view as he stepped back. She stood with his advisors beside the throne. His mouth went dry at the realization that both his wife and his sister would both be here to see him stumble through making decisions that Zacharias had been easily handling for years.
“She’s pregnant, ok?” he whispered harshly so that his voice wouldn’t carry. “What would you have had me do? I need an heir, not another bastard. And I needed it secret so that Irakles wouldn’t…” He’d been about to say ‘wouldn’t try to poison her’ but the old man had done no such thing. More than that, he’d somehow been at the secret wedding and nothing amiss had happened at all, save for the dark looks they’d cast at one another.
Olympia’s pregnancy had not been officially announced as yet but there wasn’t any way to hide it anymore. Her once sultry walk had taken on a swing that was unique to those fortunate enough to be pregnant. His eyes stayed on her as she spoke, her words lost above the growing noise of the room. His feelings on the matter were still in flux. At last, he looked back at Gianna as she implored him not to shut her or their mother and sister out.
“The less Irakles sees you, the better,” he said firmly. “I’m handling it.” He started to step around her but then thought better of it. She wasn’t done, he knew and she’d already made one scene. It wasn’t beyond her to make another. “You’ll call her sister,” he said in reference to Olympia. “Or ‘your majesty’. She’s your queen and you will do as she says. If you want our family not to fall apart, you’ll look at me like you looked at Zacharias. I am king first. Brother second.”
In a gentler voice, he added, “It’s time for all of us to grow up.” Stepping from behind the column, he called to Olympia, beckoning her over. To Gianna, he said, “Be sweet.”
Once Olympia joined them, he pulled her in front of him, facing Gianna. “You two are staying for the court, then? Or would you rather take a turn about the gardens together?” he asked in a hopeful tone. It didn’t hurt to try to get them out.
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The doors to the throne room opened but he didn’t look around the column to see who had come. The room would soon be filled with advisors, nobles, and a long, long line of people who had grievances that only the king could possibly sort out. If he had to deal with one more complaint of horses trampling a neighbor’s crops, or disputes about whose fence was on whose land, he was going to snap.
As Gianna’s doe eyed gaze peered up at him from a face contorted in anguish, he felt his insides twist in guilt even before she finally told him what he’d done.
“Gianna!” he groaned, and swung away from her so that he didn’t have to see the hurt and anger on her face anymore. “I just - I can’t do this right now.” Olympia came into view as he stepped back. She stood with his advisors beside the throne. His mouth went dry at the realization that both his wife and his sister would both be here to see him stumble through making decisions that Zacharias had been easily handling for years.
“She’s pregnant, ok?” he whispered harshly so that his voice wouldn’t carry. “What would you have had me do? I need an heir, not another bastard. And I needed it secret so that Irakles wouldn’t…” He’d been about to say ‘wouldn’t try to poison her’ but the old man had done no such thing. More than that, he’d somehow been at the secret wedding and nothing amiss had happened at all, save for the dark looks they’d cast at one another.
Olympia’s pregnancy had not been officially announced as yet but there wasn’t any way to hide it anymore. Her once sultry walk had taken on a swing that was unique to those fortunate enough to be pregnant. His eyes stayed on her as she spoke, her words lost above the growing noise of the room. His feelings on the matter were still in flux. At last, he looked back at Gianna as she implored him not to shut her or their mother and sister out.
“The less Irakles sees you, the better,” he said firmly. “I’m handling it.” He started to step around her but then thought better of it. She wasn’t done, he knew and she’d already made one scene. It wasn’t beyond her to make another. “You’ll call her sister,” he said in reference to Olympia. “Or ‘your majesty’. She’s your queen and you will do as she says. If you want our family not to fall apart, you’ll look at me like you looked at Zacharias. I am king first. Brother second.”
In a gentler voice, he added, “It’s time for all of us to grow up.” Stepping from behind the column, he called to Olympia, beckoning her over. To Gianna, he said, “Be sweet.”
Once Olympia joined them, he pulled her in front of him, facing Gianna. “You two are staying for the court, then? Or would you rather take a turn about the gardens together?” he asked in a hopeful tone. It didn’t hurt to try to get them out.
The doors to the throne room opened but he didn’t look around the column to see who had come. The room would soon be filled with advisors, nobles, and a long, long line of people who had grievances that only the king could possibly sort out. If he had to deal with one more complaint of horses trampling a neighbor’s crops, or disputes about whose fence was on whose land, he was going to snap.
As Gianna’s doe eyed gaze peered up at him from a face contorted in anguish, he felt his insides twist in guilt even before she finally told him what he’d done.
“Gianna!” he groaned, and swung away from her so that he didn’t have to see the hurt and anger on her face anymore. “I just - I can’t do this right now.” Olympia came into view as he stepped back. She stood with his advisors beside the throne. His mouth went dry at the realization that both his wife and his sister would both be here to see him stumble through making decisions that Zacharias had been easily handling for years.
“She’s pregnant, ok?” he whispered harshly so that his voice wouldn’t carry. “What would you have had me do? I need an heir, not another bastard. And I needed it secret so that Irakles wouldn’t…” He’d been about to say ‘wouldn’t try to poison her’ but the old man had done no such thing. More than that, he’d somehow been at the secret wedding and nothing amiss had happened at all, save for the dark looks they’d cast at one another.
Olympia’s pregnancy had not been officially announced as yet but there wasn’t any way to hide it anymore. Her once sultry walk had taken on a swing that was unique to those fortunate enough to be pregnant. His eyes stayed on her as she spoke, her words lost above the growing noise of the room. His feelings on the matter were still in flux. At last, he looked back at Gianna as she implored him not to shut her or their mother and sister out.
“The less Irakles sees you, the better,” he said firmly. “I’m handling it.” He started to step around her but then thought better of it. She wasn’t done, he knew and she’d already made one scene. It wasn’t beyond her to make another. “You’ll call her sister,” he said in reference to Olympia. “Or ‘your majesty’. She’s your queen and you will do as she says. If you want our family not to fall apart, you’ll look at me like you looked at Zacharias. I am king first. Brother second.”
In a gentler voice, he added, “It’s time for all of us to grow up.” Stepping from behind the column, he called to Olympia, beckoning her over. To Gianna, he said, “Be sweet.”
Once Olympia joined them, he pulled her in front of him, facing Gianna. “You two are staying for the court, then? Or would you rather take a turn about the gardens together?” he asked in a hopeful tone. It didn’t hurt to try to get them out.
Gianna watched her brother as he turned from her, understandably exasperated. She may have lacked her sister’s cunning, but the youngest Mikaelidas had learned to observe and her keen eye was quick to catch the subtle tensing of Stephanos’s shoulders as he finally caught sight of Olympia. She knew there was more to his hasty wedding than he was willing to reveal. Her inquiry was answered, however, before she even had the chance to further push the topic.
Her blood chilled. Stephanos had children, she knew that but how many and with whom was a current topic of hushed conversation amongst the courtiers. Gianna was not privy to the exchanges with their father that culminated in the concealment of her brother’s transgressions, but she knew it had been a point of contention between the two of them. And now that the man was dead Stephanos saw fit to marry the first woman claiming to carry his issue? Gianna reached for the marble column, steadying herself and finding solace in the cool stone.
Her brother’s words fell on deaf ears as she processed the news. While she was certainly thrilled by the prospect of having a newborn to dote upon, she could not suspend the suspicion that accompanied the excitement. Gianna had few close relationships with other members of the court and she had only previously encountered Olympia in passing. The stories of her hunger for power had been enough for Gianna to coincidentally find something to occupy herself with, usually on the opposite side of the room.
Today, she realized, she would not be so lucky. Gianna straightened as she noticed the new queen approaching them with her brother’s instructions to “Be sweet” coming too late to soothe her suddenly raw nerve. She shot Stephanos a glare, unable to dispute him with Olympia present. Turning to the new arrival, Gianna wasted no time in flashing a smile before hooking elbows with the young woman. Her eyes held an edge of challenge as she turned back to her brother, “Have you not heard, brother? I am the sweet one. Come, sister, let us see what wonders the gardens hold on this fine day and leave the boys to their boring land disputes.”
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Gianna watched her brother as he turned from her, understandably exasperated. She may have lacked her sister’s cunning, but the youngest Mikaelidas had learned to observe and her keen eye was quick to catch the subtle tensing of Stephanos’s shoulders as he finally caught sight of Olympia. She knew there was more to his hasty wedding than he was willing to reveal. Her inquiry was answered, however, before she even had the chance to further push the topic.
Her blood chilled. Stephanos had children, she knew that but how many and with whom was a current topic of hushed conversation amongst the courtiers. Gianna was not privy to the exchanges with their father that culminated in the concealment of her brother’s transgressions, but she knew it had been a point of contention between the two of them. And now that the man was dead Stephanos saw fit to marry the first woman claiming to carry his issue? Gianna reached for the marble column, steadying herself and finding solace in the cool stone.
Her brother’s words fell on deaf ears as she processed the news. While she was certainly thrilled by the prospect of having a newborn to dote upon, she could not suspend the suspicion that accompanied the excitement. Gianna had few close relationships with other members of the court and she had only previously encountered Olympia in passing. The stories of her hunger for power had been enough for Gianna to coincidentally find something to occupy herself with, usually on the opposite side of the room.
Today, she realized, she would not be so lucky. Gianna straightened as she noticed the new queen approaching them with her brother’s instructions to “Be sweet” coming too late to soothe her suddenly raw nerve. She shot Stephanos a glare, unable to dispute him with Olympia present. Turning to the new arrival, Gianna wasted no time in flashing a smile before hooking elbows with the young woman. Her eyes held an edge of challenge as she turned back to her brother, “Have you not heard, brother? I am the sweet one. Come, sister, let us see what wonders the gardens hold on this fine day and leave the boys to their boring land disputes.”
Gianna watched her brother as he turned from her, understandably exasperated. She may have lacked her sister’s cunning, but the youngest Mikaelidas had learned to observe and her keen eye was quick to catch the subtle tensing of Stephanos’s shoulders as he finally caught sight of Olympia. She knew there was more to his hasty wedding than he was willing to reveal. Her inquiry was answered, however, before she even had the chance to further push the topic.
Her blood chilled. Stephanos had children, she knew that but how many and with whom was a current topic of hushed conversation amongst the courtiers. Gianna was not privy to the exchanges with their father that culminated in the concealment of her brother’s transgressions, but she knew it had been a point of contention between the two of them. And now that the man was dead Stephanos saw fit to marry the first woman claiming to carry his issue? Gianna reached for the marble column, steadying herself and finding solace in the cool stone.
Her brother’s words fell on deaf ears as she processed the news. While she was certainly thrilled by the prospect of having a newborn to dote upon, she could not suspend the suspicion that accompanied the excitement. Gianna had few close relationships with other members of the court and she had only previously encountered Olympia in passing. The stories of her hunger for power had been enough for Gianna to coincidentally find something to occupy herself with, usually on the opposite side of the room.
Today, she realized, she would not be so lucky. Gianna straightened as she noticed the new queen approaching them with her brother’s instructions to “Be sweet” coming too late to soothe her suddenly raw nerve. She shot Stephanos a glare, unable to dispute him with Olympia present. Turning to the new arrival, Gianna wasted no time in flashing a smile before hooking elbows with the young woman. Her eyes held an edge of challenge as she turned back to her brother, “Have you not heard, brother? I am the sweet one. Come, sister, let us see what wonders the gardens hold on this fine day and leave the boys to their boring land disputes.”
Stephanos' call drew her from discussion with the old man on the dais, and she descended as gracefully as she could. Six months was not so very full bodied as she knew she would become, but she could feel it acutely now in the difference of how she moved and carried herself, always with a hand subconsciously resting on the swell of her stomach protectively. Whatever prince rested within was precious cargo, and carried her own fortunes along with him. If she didn't bear a son there was little reason Stephanos couldn't set her aside and marry a princess.
She smiled as she approached, reaching out to touch her husband's shoulder softly as he pulled her over between himself and his sister. She hadn't had time to properly get to know either of the girls though their mother had made her presence an unavoidable constant in her life. After the wedding she had lain low for a while until the announcement of their marriage had been made public, only now getting out and about to be seen and heard.
“I had thought I might stay, moral support and all. I can't imagine this is all that fun. But if you'd rather a turn in the gardens wouldn't hurt.”
That was something of a lie, she did imagine it would be quite fascinating, but based on the way he was currently carrying himself after all of the silent observation she had done ever since they had begun sharing a bed, he was not in the mood for an audience. Nor did it seem Gianna was keen to let her stay. As the younger woman took hold of her arm, Pia tossed a look in Stephanos' direction, a smile and a wave of her hand. She wanted to wish him luck, but it had been made clear that any shows of affection needed to be made in private. Even if it was something so simple as that. She didn't want to do anything that might undermine his power.
“Of course. Lead on, sister.”
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Stephanos' call drew her from discussion with the old man on the dais, and she descended as gracefully as she could. Six months was not so very full bodied as she knew she would become, but she could feel it acutely now in the difference of how she moved and carried herself, always with a hand subconsciously resting on the swell of her stomach protectively. Whatever prince rested within was precious cargo, and carried her own fortunes along with him. If she didn't bear a son there was little reason Stephanos couldn't set her aside and marry a princess.
She smiled as she approached, reaching out to touch her husband's shoulder softly as he pulled her over between himself and his sister. She hadn't had time to properly get to know either of the girls though their mother had made her presence an unavoidable constant in her life. After the wedding she had lain low for a while until the announcement of their marriage had been made public, only now getting out and about to be seen and heard.
“I had thought I might stay, moral support and all. I can't imagine this is all that fun. But if you'd rather a turn in the gardens wouldn't hurt.”
That was something of a lie, she did imagine it would be quite fascinating, but based on the way he was currently carrying himself after all of the silent observation she had done ever since they had begun sharing a bed, he was not in the mood for an audience. Nor did it seem Gianna was keen to let her stay. As the younger woman took hold of her arm, Pia tossed a look in Stephanos' direction, a smile and a wave of her hand. She wanted to wish him luck, but it had been made clear that any shows of affection needed to be made in private. Even if it was something so simple as that. She didn't want to do anything that might undermine his power.
“Of course. Lead on, sister.”
Stephanos' call drew her from discussion with the old man on the dais, and she descended as gracefully as she could. Six months was not so very full bodied as she knew she would become, but she could feel it acutely now in the difference of how she moved and carried herself, always with a hand subconsciously resting on the swell of her stomach protectively. Whatever prince rested within was precious cargo, and carried her own fortunes along with him. If she didn't bear a son there was little reason Stephanos couldn't set her aside and marry a princess.
She smiled as she approached, reaching out to touch her husband's shoulder softly as he pulled her over between himself and his sister. She hadn't had time to properly get to know either of the girls though their mother had made her presence an unavoidable constant in her life. After the wedding she had lain low for a while until the announcement of their marriage had been made public, only now getting out and about to be seen and heard.
“I had thought I might stay, moral support and all. I can't imagine this is all that fun. But if you'd rather a turn in the gardens wouldn't hurt.”
That was something of a lie, she did imagine it would be quite fascinating, but based on the way he was currently carrying himself after all of the silent observation she had done ever since they had begun sharing a bed, he was not in the mood for an audience. Nor did it seem Gianna was keen to let her stay. As the younger woman took hold of her arm, Pia tossed a look in Stephanos' direction, a smile and a wave of her hand. She wanted to wish him luck, but it had been made clear that any shows of affection needed to be made in private. Even if it was something so simple as that. She didn't want to do anything that might undermine his power.
“Of course. Lead on, sister.”
Relief shot through him when Gianna didn’t fight the garden suggestion. He put his hands on his hips as his sister stepped forward and quite literally took Olympia from him. The two linked arms and he watched as they walked out of the throne room together. At least that part went well.
Turning away, he looked at the aged advisor still waiting for him. Today would be long and incredibly dull. At the very least, Irakles would not be here. That was a blessing. The man couldn’t watch him every second of the day and thankfully, he’d had something else more pressing than court this afternoon.
He walked back to the throne and sat down, only to be immediately set upon by advisors, each trying to get in their advice or argument before they would be forced into silence. From up on the dias, he could still see the retreating forms of Olympia and Gianna. The thought of strolling through the gardens was much more appealing than this. However, he would not shrink away from what he knew was his duty; to make judgements between farmers and on finances and trade agreements.
“Are you ready to begin, your majesty?”
“Yes,” he lied. “Yes, bring the first one forward.”
He did not want to be king, but he’d sit in this boring court for eternity if it kept his uncle out of it and off the throne..
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Relief shot through him when Gianna didn’t fight the garden suggestion. He put his hands on his hips as his sister stepped forward and quite literally took Olympia from him. The two linked arms and he watched as they walked out of the throne room together. At least that part went well.
Turning away, he looked at the aged advisor still waiting for him. Today would be long and incredibly dull. At the very least, Irakles would not be here. That was a blessing. The man couldn’t watch him every second of the day and thankfully, he’d had something else more pressing than court this afternoon.
He walked back to the throne and sat down, only to be immediately set upon by advisors, each trying to get in their advice or argument before they would be forced into silence. From up on the dias, he could still see the retreating forms of Olympia and Gianna. The thought of strolling through the gardens was much more appealing than this. However, he would not shrink away from what he knew was his duty; to make judgements between farmers and on finances and trade agreements.
“Are you ready to begin, your majesty?”
“Yes,” he lied. “Yes, bring the first one forward.”
He did not want to be king, but he’d sit in this boring court for eternity if it kept his uncle out of it and off the throne..
Relief shot through him when Gianna didn’t fight the garden suggestion. He put his hands on his hips as his sister stepped forward and quite literally took Olympia from him. The two linked arms and he watched as they walked out of the throne room together. At least that part went well.
Turning away, he looked at the aged advisor still waiting for him. Today would be long and incredibly dull. At the very least, Irakles would not be here. That was a blessing. The man couldn’t watch him every second of the day and thankfully, he’d had something else more pressing than court this afternoon.
He walked back to the throne and sat down, only to be immediately set upon by advisors, each trying to get in their advice or argument before they would be forced into silence. From up on the dias, he could still see the retreating forms of Olympia and Gianna. The thought of strolling through the gardens was much more appealing than this. However, he would not shrink away from what he knew was his duty; to make judgements between farmers and on finances and trade agreements.
“Are you ready to begin, your majesty?”
“Yes,” he lied. “Yes, bring the first one forward.”
He did not want to be king, but he’d sit in this boring court for eternity if it kept his uncle out of it and off the throne..
