The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
The senate meeting the day before had caused an absolute uproar in the city once word trickled out. The king was accused of murder his own father and brother for the throne. Could that be so? Would Prince Stephanos have done that? No...whispers circulated. They all knew their prince. He had been
The day after the king found himself on house arrest was the day that Gavriil thought it best to go to the palati. He had many, many questions for Prince Irakles. The prince had mentioned that he was living in the palati now, ostensibly to help the king. But as the king was not able to perform his duties, it was left to Irakles to do this. Which meant that Gavriil needed to go to Irakles, and not have the other come to him.
He was wary getting up that morning. The events of the day before, of the king being accused of murdering his own father and brother for the throne, - more than accused -, the baron mused as he washed his face. Evidence had been presented like the whole thing had been a mini trial. The execution of it hadn’t sat well with him. It still didn’t this morning, even after a night’s reflection. There was evidence, though, so he couldn’t ignore Prince Irakles’s claims out of hand. But he did have questions.
The items themselves? Perhaps those were not strong enough on their own, but witnesses. Those were a little more difficult to ignore. And three on top of it...He stared at his reflection in the looking glass and sighed. These intrigues were more than exhausting. They were draining. He felt like the longer he stayed in the city, the harder it was to stick to his moral compass.
The hour was early. Too early to call on Prince Irakles yet. Gavriil spent as much time as he could stand on his appearance. His hair was pulled back and affixed simply with a leather strap. His beard was combed and trimmed close, and the himation he wore was a deep, enthralling green; a symbol of both his house and his wealth, as green was a difficult color to come by.
Once the hour was suitable, though still a little early, he went down to the stables and rode his mare up to the palati. He was not the only one going to be at court today. The advisors were already present, as well as an increased number of guards. Barons and their wives, their daughters, their sons, were all milling about. The sea of people were tense and he could feel it in himself as well.
It had been an incredible shock to have their monarch assassinated. It was heavier still to find the son being the one accused of doing it. He got down off his horse, handed her off to a stable hand, and began his ascent up the stairs. He thought he felt someone following him but he elected to ignore the sensation. His mind and purpose were on Irakles; not gadding about with whomever wanted to talk.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The senate meeting the day before had caused an absolute uproar in the city once word trickled out. The king was accused of murder his own father and brother for the throne. Could that be so? Would Prince Stephanos have done that? No...whispers circulated. They all knew their prince. He had been
The day after the king found himself on house arrest was the day that Gavriil thought it best to go to the palati. He had many, many questions for Prince Irakles. The prince had mentioned that he was living in the palati now, ostensibly to help the king. But as the king was not able to perform his duties, it was left to Irakles to do this. Which meant that Gavriil needed to go to Irakles, and not have the other come to him.
He was wary getting up that morning. The events of the day before, of the king being accused of murdering his own father and brother for the throne, - more than accused -, the baron mused as he washed his face. Evidence had been presented like the whole thing had been a mini trial. The execution of it hadn’t sat well with him. It still didn’t this morning, even after a night’s reflection. There was evidence, though, so he couldn’t ignore Prince Irakles’s claims out of hand. But he did have questions.
The items themselves? Perhaps those were not strong enough on their own, but witnesses. Those were a little more difficult to ignore. And three on top of it...He stared at his reflection in the looking glass and sighed. These intrigues were more than exhausting. They were draining. He felt like the longer he stayed in the city, the harder it was to stick to his moral compass.
The hour was early. Too early to call on Prince Irakles yet. Gavriil spent as much time as he could stand on his appearance. His hair was pulled back and affixed simply with a leather strap. His beard was combed and trimmed close, and the himation he wore was a deep, enthralling green; a symbol of both his house and his wealth, as green was a difficult color to come by.
Once the hour was suitable, though still a little early, he went down to the stables and rode his mare up to the palati. He was not the only one going to be at court today. The advisors were already present, as well as an increased number of guards. Barons and their wives, their daughters, their sons, were all milling about. The sea of people were tense and he could feel it in himself as well.
It had been an incredible shock to have their monarch assassinated. It was heavier still to find the son being the one accused of doing it. He got down off his horse, handed her off to a stable hand, and began his ascent up the stairs. He thought he felt someone following him but he elected to ignore the sensation. His mind and purpose were on Irakles; not gadding about with whomever wanted to talk.
The senate meeting the day before had caused an absolute uproar in the city once word trickled out. The king was accused of murder his own father and brother for the throne. Could that be so? Would Prince Stephanos have done that? No...whispers circulated. They all knew their prince. He had been
The day after the king found himself on house arrest was the day that Gavriil thought it best to go to the palati. He had many, many questions for Prince Irakles. The prince had mentioned that he was living in the palati now, ostensibly to help the king. But as the king was not able to perform his duties, it was left to Irakles to do this. Which meant that Gavriil needed to go to Irakles, and not have the other come to him.
He was wary getting up that morning. The events of the day before, of the king being accused of murdering his own father and brother for the throne, - more than accused -, the baron mused as he washed his face. Evidence had been presented like the whole thing had been a mini trial. The execution of it hadn’t sat well with him. It still didn’t this morning, even after a night’s reflection. There was evidence, though, so he couldn’t ignore Prince Irakles’s claims out of hand. But he did have questions.
The items themselves? Perhaps those were not strong enough on their own, but witnesses. Those were a little more difficult to ignore. And three on top of it...He stared at his reflection in the looking glass and sighed. These intrigues were more than exhausting. They were draining. He felt like the longer he stayed in the city, the harder it was to stick to his moral compass.
The hour was early. Too early to call on Prince Irakles yet. Gavriil spent as much time as he could stand on his appearance. His hair was pulled back and affixed simply with a leather strap. His beard was combed and trimmed close, and the himation he wore was a deep, enthralling green; a symbol of both his house and his wealth, as green was a difficult color to come by.
Once the hour was suitable, though still a little early, he went down to the stables and rode his mare up to the palati. He was not the only one going to be at court today. The advisors were already present, as well as an increased number of guards. Barons and their wives, their daughters, their sons, were all milling about. The sea of people were tense and he could feel it in himself as well.
It had been an incredible shock to have their monarch assassinated. It was heavier still to find the son being the one accused of doing it. He got down off his horse, handed her off to a stable hand, and began his ascent up the stairs. He thought he felt someone following him but he elected to ignore the sensation. His mind and purpose were on Irakles; not gadding about with whomever wanted to talk.
Having been to the palati early after his ablutions to check on his nephew, he shook his head as he descended the stairs to see a few of the royal advisor's waiting, as if telling them Stephanos was in no good shape. "Do we have a physician who would be able to take a look at my nephew? I fear he may have injured himself in his anger, so he may need to be tended to." Always putting on a show of concern for the young King, for he had been through a lot of stress - that was his modus operandi. To any who asked, Irakles would explain that he feared his nephew's mind was no longer stable after such a long and arduous journey he's had to go through from playboy prince to accused of treason. He would do his best to help Stephanos and see the investigation through.
That he was convinced Stephanos would never do such a heinuous deed, but that Irakles had to operate and work by the rules of the Senate, that all witnesses and proof be investigated thoroughly before a decision comes to a head.
As such, the shake of his head was meant to show his advisor's that he had gotten no headway with the young King and his wife, and instead shuffled them all to the inside of the council room for the daily discussions on the setting of tax rates, the handling and collection of coins, setting of rules as well as any grieviences to be aired by any visiting barons to the capitol. While many barons and their families were milling about, Irakles smiled at them all, but did not hide the tired look in them as he entered a smaller chamber with the advisor's first to confer with them. The decision regarding Stephanos would have to be made - but Irakles was not hurrying about it. Let people whisper and talk, he's planted his own whisperers amongst the people to spread further rumors regarding his nephew's questionable actions, if only to sow further discord about Stephanos's reputation. If it took longer for the advisors to decide when to hold his trial, then so be it. Irakles would take advantage of every extra hour he had.
The discussion took all of ten minutes, for Irakles was still fully aware he had to hold the session for the visiting barons, and as such, emerged soon after, following the advisor's to the throne room where such audiences were held. Passing the stairs however, Irakles caught sight of an ascending figure, and gave a respectful smile as he noticed who had arrived. "Lord Gavriil, tis rare to see you joining one of these court sessions. You're just in time." It was a welcoming, albeit slightly softer tone then his usual booming annoucement of his presence, for after the events of the previous day, Irakles thought it suitable to mellow down to look as if he was contemplating the fate of his nephew.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Having been to the palati early after his ablutions to check on his nephew, he shook his head as he descended the stairs to see a few of the royal advisor's waiting, as if telling them Stephanos was in no good shape. "Do we have a physician who would be able to take a look at my nephew? I fear he may have injured himself in his anger, so he may need to be tended to." Always putting on a show of concern for the young King, for he had been through a lot of stress - that was his modus operandi. To any who asked, Irakles would explain that he feared his nephew's mind was no longer stable after such a long and arduous journey he's had to go through from playboy prince to accused of treason. He would do his best to help Stephanos and see the investigation through.
That he was convinced Stephanos would never do such a heinuous deed, but that Irakles had to operate and work by the rules of the Senate, that all witnesses and proof be investigated thoroughly before a decision comes to a head.
As such, the shake of his head was meant to show his advisor's that he had gotten no headway with the young King and his wife, and instead shuffled them all to the inside of the council room for the daily discussions on the setting of tax rates, the handling and collection of coins, setting of rules as well as any grieviences to be aired by any visiting barons to the capitol. While many barons and their families were milling about, Irakles smiled at them all, but did not hide the tired look in them as he entered a smaller chamber with the advisor's first to confer with them. The decision regarding Stephanos would have to be made - but Irakles was not hurrying about it. Let people whisper and talk, he's planted his own whisperers amongst the people to spread further rumors regarding his nephew's questionable actions, if only to sow further discord about Stephanos's reputation. If it took longer for the advisors to decide when to hold his trial, then so be it. Irakles would take advantage of every extra hour he had.
The discussion took all of ten minutes, for Irakles was still fully aware he had to hold the session for the visiting barons, and as such, emerged soon after, following the advisor's to the throne room where such audiences were held. Passing the stairs however, Irakles caught sight of an ascending figure, and gave a respectful smile as he noticed who had arrived. "Lord Gavriil, tis rare to see you joining one of these court sessions. You're just in time." It was a welcoming, albeit slightly softer tone then his usual booming annoucement of his presence, for after the events of the previous day, Irakles thought it suitable to mellow down to look as if he was contemplating the fate of his nephew.
Having been to the palati early after his ablutions to check on his nephew, he shook his head as he descended the stairs to see a few of the royal advisor's waiting, as if telling them Stephanos was in no good shape. "Do we have a physician who would be able to take a look at my nephew? I fear he may have injured himself in his anger, so he may need to be tended to." Always putting on a show of concern for the young King, for he had been through a lot of stress - that was his modus operandi. To any who asked, Irakles would explain that he feared his nephew's mind was no longer stable after such a long and arduous journey he's had to go through from playboy prince to accused of treason. He would do his best to help Stephanos and see the investigation through.
That he was convinced Stephanos would never do such a heinuous deed, but that Irakles had to operate and work by the rules of the Senate, that all witnesses and proof be investigated thoroughly before a decision comes to a head.
As such, the shake of his head was meant to show his advisor's that he had gotten no headway with the young King and his wife, and instead shuffled them all to the inside of the council room for the daily discussions on the setting of tax rates, the handling and collection of coins, setting of rules as well as any grieviences to be aired by any visiting barons to the capitol. While many barons and their families were milling about, Irakles smiled at them all, but did not hide the tired look in them as he entered a smaller chamber with the advisor's first to confer with them. The decision regarding Stephanos would have to be made - but Irakles was not hurrying about it. Let people whisper and talk, he's planted his own whisperers amongst the people to spread further rumors regarding his nephew's questionable actions, if only to sow further discord about Stephanos's reputation. If it took longer for the advisors to decide when to hold his trial, then so be it. Irakles would take advantage of every extra hour he had.
The discussion took all of ten minutes, for Irakles was still fully aware he had to hold the session for the visiting barons, and as such, emerged soon after, following the advisor's to the throne room where such audiences were held. Passing the stairs however, Irakles caught sight of an ascending figure, and gave a respectful smile as he noticed who had arrived. "Lord Gavriil, tis rare to see you joining one of these court sessions. You're just in time." It was a welcoming, albeit slightly softer tone then his usual booming annoucement of his presence, for after the events of the previous day, Irakles thought it suitable to mellow down to look as if he was contemplating the fate of his nephew.
The palati was always busy. Why he’d assumed that he was early enough to miss the comings and goings, he did not now know, for as he ascended the steps, he saw a veritable crowd of people. Thankfully, the person he’d come to see was just entering view and for possibly the first time in many years, the grave smile that Gavriil offered to Irakles in return was genuine. It was good to see the prince looking less than enthused about what had happened yesterday. Gavriil felt a little bit of his concern melting away at Irakles’s softer tone.
It was quite a thing indeed to hold someone in contempt and yet another thing to believe them capable of such atrocious acts of violence. In answer to Irakles, Gavriil bowed and then said, “Yes, your highness.” He did not speak again until he’d made his way through the crowd of people, all of whom seemed to insist that they skirt ahead of him like schools of brightly colored fish. Finally he had to shoulder through them, leaving them giving him side glances like he was the problem.
“Your highness,” he said again, closer this time so that they would not be separated by someone darting to get to someone else. Even so, gauzy dresses fluttered by, women gossiping and casting glances in their direction. Even with the king incarcerated, the court flowed on, as it must. “I did not come to join the session. I came seeking a short audience with you, as a matter of fact, but I see I chose my timing poorly.”
He would sit through the session if Irakles made him, of course, but he wanted to avoid it if he could. “I suppose it would be impossible to speak now, but perhaps after the session? I am able to stay for as long as it takes?” Thankfully, he rarely needed to attend the session with the barons. He was lucky in his barony in that there was rarely a problem that he could not handle or that was not resolved, when more serious, from his personal involvement. There were times, as there were with everyone, that sometimes did need to be sent to the palati, but on the whole, both he and his lands were unassuming and forgettable. Just the way he preferred it.
While Irakles was probably the last person he actually wanted to speak to on this matter, he really was the only one for the present. Not one to shy away from unpleasant meetings, Gavriil was forcing himself to be a bit more involved in current politics than his personal preference would have liked to be. After all, these were serious times. He could not afford to be lax on his laurels or judgement.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The palati was always busy. Why he’d assumed that he was early enough to miss the comings and goings, he did not now know, for as he ascended the steps, he saw a veritable crowd of people. Thankfully, the person he’d come to see was just entering view and for possibly the first time in many years, the grave smile that Gavriil offered to Irakles in return was genuine. It was good to see the prince looking less than enthused about what had happened yesterday. Gavriil felt a little bit of his concern melting away at Irakles’s softer tone.
It was quite a thing indeed to hold someone in contempt and yet another thing to believe them capable of such atrocious acts of violence. In answer to Irakles, Gavriil bowed and then said, “Yes, your highness.” He did not speak again until he’d made his way through the crowd of people, all of whom seemed to insist that they skirt ahead of him like schools of brightly colored fish. Finally he had to shoulder through them, leaving them giving him side glances like he was the problem.
“Your highness,” he said again, closer this time so that they would not be separated by someone darting to get to someone else. Even so, gauzy dresses fluttered by, women gossiping and casting glances in their direction. Even with the king incarcerated, the court flowed on, as it must. “I did not come to join the session. I came seeking a short audience with you, as a matter of fact, but I see I chose my timing poorly.”
He would sit through the session if Irakles made him, of course, but he wanted to avoid it if he could. “I suppose it would be impossible to speak now, but perhaps after the session? I am able to stay for as long as it takes?” Thankfully, he rarely needed to attend the session with the barons. He was lucky in his barony in that there was rarely a problem that he could not handle or that was not resolved, when more serious, from his personal involvement. There were times, as there were with everyone, that sometimes did need to be sent to the palati, but on the whole, both he and his lands were unassuming and forgettable. Just the way he preferred it.
While Irakles was probably the last person he actually wanted to speak to on this matter, he really was the only one for the present. Not one to shy away from unpleasant meetings, Gavriil was forcing himself to be a bit more involved in current politics than his personal preference would have liked to be. After all, these were serious times. He could not afford to be lax on his laurels or judgement.
The palati was always busy. Why he’d assumed that he was early enough to miss the comings and goings, he did not now know, for as he ascended the steps, he saw a veritable crowd of people. Thankfully, the person he’d come to see was just entering view and for possibly the first time in many years, the grave smile that Gavriil offered to Irakles in return was genuine. It was good to see the prince looking less than enthused about what had happened yesterday. Gavriil felt a little bit of his concern melting away at Irakles’s softer tone.
It was quite a thing indeed to hold someone in contempt and yet another thing to believe them capable of such atrocious acts of violence. In answer to Irakles, Gavriil bowed and then said, “Yes, your highness.” He did not speak again until he’d made his way through the crowd of people, all of whom seemed to insist that they skirt ahead of him like schools of brightly colored fish. Finally he had to shoulder through them, leaving them giving him side glances like he was the problem.
“Your highness,” he said again, closer this time so that they would not be separated by someone darting to get to someone else. Even so, gauzy dresses fluttered by, women gossiping and casting glances in their direction. Even with the king incarcerated, the court flowed on, as it must. “I did not come to join the session. I came seeking a short audience with you, as a matter of fact, but I see I chose my timing poorly.”
He would sit through the session if Irakles made him, of course, but he wanted to avoid it if he could. “I suppose it would be impossible to speak now, but perhaps after the session? I am able to stay for as long as it takes?” Thankfully, he rarely needed to attend the session with the barons. He was lucky in his barony in that there was rarely a problem that he could not handle or that was not resolved, when more serious, from his personal involvement. There were times, as there were with everyone, that sometimes did need to be sent to the palati, but on the whole, both he and his lands were unassuming and forgettable. Just the way he preferred it.
While Irakles was probably the last person he actually wanted to speak to on this matter, he really was the only one for the present. Not one to shy away from unpleasant meetings, Gavriil was forcing himself to be a bit more involved in current politics than his personal preference would have liked to be. After all, these were serious times. He could not afford to be lax on his laurels or judgement.
That Gavriil did not come to attend the session was not surprising, for the Head of House Dimitrou had always led a low-key life, a fact that Irakles knew personally. His own wife had been similar, and for any other man, Myrto would have made a perfect wife for she did as told and kept a low profile when necessary.
It was just her run of luck that she had been married to someone who sought so much more then a quiet life.
But his dissatisfaction with his wife was not reflected upon her family members, and Irakles was willing to make concessions. Afterall, Lord Gavriil had seemed quite intent in considering the grieviences he had accused his nephew of, and for that, Irakles was willing to allow him the chance to get to know more. He would never mind more allies on his side afterall. Nodding in response to Gavriil's request for an audience, he momentarily tossed his gaze at the waiting barons and nobles, as if considering his options for a moment, before replying.
"I have no confirmation on when I would be able to finish, my lord, but if you are willing to wait, then I will see you after the session then." Whatever Gavriil wanted to see him for, Irakles would entertain it with all the gravity required, for that the Dimitrou noble was willing to wait for as long as it takes seem to indicate the seriousness of the matter.
Raising a hand, Irakles summoned a retainer to ensure Gavriil was well ensconced in the furnished waiting room of the Palati, giving the lord one last nod of respect, before turning and heading to the throne room. Perching himself in the gilded gold-backed throne usually for the King himself, it was there that Irakles held audience with the Taengean lords visiting the capitol. Matters of various topics were brought forward, all of which Irakles handled as fairly and neutral as he could. Some of which he deliberated and spent longer discussing with advisors, while others were quick fixes with a little discussion with the baron in question.
By the time Irakles was finished, morning had made its way well into the afternoon, and only then did the barons disperse. Despite it being the time for his nooning meal however, Irakles quickly made his way to the waiting room, instructing slaves to bring his meal to the room before he entered, greeting Gavriil with a respectful, albeit a little tired smile. "Apologies to have kept you waiting, m'lord. I hope your wait has been comfortable?" the prince murmured, as he took a seat in a plushed kline, and waited for the Dimitrou's response.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
That Gavriil did not come to attend the session was not surprising, for the Head of House Dimitrou had always led a low-key life, a fact that Irakles knew personally. His own wife had been similar, and for any other man, Myrto would have made a perfect wife for she did as told and kept a low profile when necessary.
It was just her run of luck that she had been married to someone who sought so much more then a quiet life.
But his dissatisfaction with his wife was not reflected upon her family members, and Irakles was willing to make concessions. Afterall, Lord Gavriil had seemed quite intent in considering the grieviences he had accused his nephew of, and for that, Irakles was willing to allow him the chance to get to know more. He would never mind more allies on his side afterall. Nodding in response to Gavriil's request for an audience, he momentarily tossed his gaze at the waiting barons and nobles, as if considering his options for a moment, before replying.
"I have no confirmation on when I would be able to finish, my lord, but if you are willing to wait, then I will see you after the session then." Whatever Gavriil wanted to see him for, Irakles would entertain it with all the gravity required, for that the Dimitrou noble was willing to wait for as long as it takes seem to indicate the seriousness of the matter.
Raising a hand, Irakles summoned a retainer to ensure Gavriil was well ensconced in the furnished waiting room of the Palati, giving the lord one last nod of respect, before turning and heading to the throne room. Perching himself in the gilded gold-backed throne usually for the King himself, it was there that Irakles held audience with the Taengean lords visiting the capitol. Matters of various topics were brought forward, all of which Irakles handled as fairly and neutral as he could. Some of which he deliberated and spent longer discussing with advisors, while others were quick fixes with a little discussion with the baron in question.
By the time Irakles was finished, morning had made its way well into the afternoon, and only then did the barons disperse. Despite it being the time for his nooning meal however, Irakles quickly made his way to the waiting room, instructing slaves to bring his meal to the room before he entered, greeting Gavriil with a respectful, albeit a little tired smile. "Apologies to have kept you waiting, m'lord. I hope your wait has been comfortable?" the prince murmured, as he took a seat in a plushed kline, and waited for the Dimitrou's response.
That Gavriil did not come to attend the session was not surprising, for the Head of House Dimitrou had always led a low-key life, a fact that Irakles knew personally. His own wife had been similar, and for any other man, Myrto would have made a perfect wife for she did as told and kept a low profile when necessary.
It was just her run of luck that she had been married to someone who sought so much more then a quiet life.
But his dissatisfaction with his wife was not reflected upon her family members, and Irakles was willing to make concessions. Afterall, Lord Gavriil had seemed quite intent in considering the grieviences he had accused his nephew of, and for that, Irakles was willing to allow him the chance to get to know more. He would never mind more allies on his side afterall. Nodding in response to Gavriil's request for an audience, he momentarily tossed his gaze at the waiting barons and nobles, as if considering his options for a moment, before replying.
"I have no confirmation on when I would be able to finish, my lord, but if you are willing to wait, then I will see you after the session then." Whatever Gavriil wanted to see him for, Irakles would entertain it with all the gravity required, for that the Dimitrou noble was willing to wait for as long as it takes seem to indicate the seriousness of the matter.
Raising a hand, Irakles summoned a retainer to ensure Gavriil was well ensconced in the furnished waiting room of the Palati, giving the lord one last nod of respect, before turning and heading to the throne room. Perching himself in the gilded gold-backed throne usually for the King himself, it was there that Irakles held audience with the Taengean lords visiting the capitol. Matters of various topics were brought forward, all of which Irakles handled as fairly and neutral as he could. Some of which he deliberated and spent longer discussing with advisors, while others were quick fixes with a little discussion with the baron in question.
By the time Irakles was finished, morning had made its way well into the afternoon, and only then did the barons disperse. Despite it being the time for his nooning meal however, Irakles quickly made his way to the waiting room, instructing slaves to bring his meal to the room before he entered, greeting Gavriil with a respectful, albeit a little tired smile. "Apologies to have kept you waiting, m'lord. I hope your wait has been comfortable?" the prince murmured, as he took a seat in a plushed kline, and waited for the Dimitrou's response.
On the one hand, he’d have liked for Irakles to have blown off the meeting to speak with him privately on what he felt was a business more urgent than men needing to sort out land disputes. On the other hand, he wouldn’t have dreamed of asking for such a thing and would have insisted that the prince go about business as usual. After all, just because he wanted something did not mean that he should have it. The only reason he even had the desire was because he wasn’t faultless. There was a selfish desire to not have to stay at the palati all day long.
When Irakles decided not to postpone the audiences, Gavriil was not surprised. He nodded gravely, hands behind his back, and resigned himself to waiting. Giving Irakles a bow, he left to follow the servant through the meandering halls of the palati. Unlike other lords, he did not feel guilty in eschewing that portion of his duty. He saw to his own affairs. Let the others deal with their own lands. After all, that’s why they were barons. They didn’t need his supervision and he didn’t feel like offering it without someone expressly asking. Unlike Irakles, he had no wish to police other people out of his jurisdiction.
The room he was led to was one he’d been in before a few years ago. Of all his virtues, patience was the one he was known for. He needed it when it came to hunting. There were times he’d stay long hours at the base of a tree, bow held carefully, arrow notched, just waiting for the deer to wander by. Then he’d swing up the bow, string already drawn back, aim, and fire. However, in the palati, he found his usually never ending fortitude wearing thin.
He was standing at a window, looking out of it, his hands held behind his back, when Irakles finally breezed in. Gavriil turned and offered another bow, as protocol dictated, and approached where Irakles sat. Continuing to stand, Gavriil drew in a deep breath, organizing what he wanted to say in his mind before speaking aloud.
Waving off the niceties that Irakles was attempting to offer, Gavriil frowned. He eyed the sizeable bruise that now occupied Irakles’s face from the king’s punch yesterday. From the way Irakles had flown, that had to have hurt. But Gavriil did not ask about the man’s injury. It had hurt, it was healing. End of story. Nor did he offer sympathy. Irakles was a retired general and didn’t require it. Instead, Gavriil’s face was creased with concern for a different reason entirely.
“Yesterday’s Senate meet has been haunting me,” he said without preamble. “The accusations made against the king are based in reality, I trust?” Without giving Irakles a chance to say yes or no, he closed his eyes, put his palms together, and then glared toward Irakles with such an intensity as he rarely used, and never on someone above his station. “The king might be an immoral man among such immoral men, but I have never perceived him to be that good a liar or even that ambitious.”
He was thinking about how most of Stephanos’s time, when not spent in the company of his brothers in the Order was at the chariot races or in the bed of someone’s daughter. He could not imagine Stephanos plotting and executing such a scheme, especially alone. It didn’t fit the easy going, womanizer prince he knew.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
On the one hand, he’d have liked for Irakles to have blown off the meeting to speak with him privately on what he felt was a business more urgent than men needing to sort out land disputes. On the other hand, he wouldn’t have dreamed of asking for such a thing and would have insisted that the prince go about business as usual. After all, just because he wanted something did not mean that he should have it. The only reason he even had the desire was because he wasn’t faultless. There was a selfish desire to not have to stay at the palati all day long.
When Irakles decided not to postpone the audiences, Gavriil was not surprised. He nodded gravely, hands behind his back, and resigned himself to waiting. Giving Irakles a bow, he left to follow the servant through the meandering halls of the palati. Unlike other lords, he did not feel guilty in eschewing that portion of his duty. He saw to his own affairs. Let the others deal with their own lands. After all, that’s why they were barons. They didn’t need his supervision and he didn’t feel like offering it without someone expressly asking. Unlike Irakles, he had no wish to police other people out of his jurisdiction.
The room he was led to was one he’d been in before a few years ago. Of all his virtues, patience was the one he was known for. He needed it when it came to hunting. There were times he’d stay long hours at the base of a tree, bow held carefully, arrow notched, just waiting for the deer to wander by. Then he’d swing up the bow, string already drawn back, aim, and fire. However, in the palati, he found his usually never ending fortitude wearing thin.
He was standing at a window, looking out of it, his hands held behind his back, when Irakles finally breezed in. Gavriil turned and offered another bow, as protocol dictated, and approached where Irakles sat. Continuing to stand, Gavriil drew in a deep breath, organizing what he wanted to say in his mind before speaking aloud.
Waving off the niceties that Irakles was attempting to offer, Gavriil frowned. He eyed the sizeable bruise that now occupied Irakles’s face from the king’s punch yesterday. From the way Irakles had flown, that had to have hurt. But Gavriil did not ask about the man’s injury. It had hurt, it was healing. End of story. Nor did he offer sympathy. Irakles was a retired general and didn’t require it. Instead, Gavriil’s face was creased with concern for a different reason entirely.
“Yesterday’s Senate meet has been haunting me,” he said without preamble. “The accusations made against the king are based in reality, I trust?” Without giving Irakles a chance to say yes or no, he closed his eyes, put his palms together, and then glared toward Irakles with such an intensity as he rarely used, and never on someone above his station. “The king might be an immoral man among such immoral men, but I have never perceived him to be that good a liar or even that ambitious.”
He was thinking about how most of Stephanos’s time, when not spent in the company of his brothers in the Order was at the chariot races or in the bed of someone’s daughter. He could not imagine Stephanos plotting and executing such a scheme, especially alone. It didn’t fit the easy going, womanizer prince he knew.
On the one hand, he’d have liked for Irakles to have blown off the meeting to speak with him privately on what he felt was a business more urgent than men needing to sort out land disputes. On the other hand, he wouldn’t have dreamed of asking for such a thing and would have insisted that the prince go about business as usual. After all, just because he wanted something did not mean that he should have it. The only reason he even had the desire was because he wasn’t faultless. There was a selfish desire to not have to stay at the palati all day long.
When Irakles decided not to postpone the audiences, Gavriil was not surprised. He nodded gravely, hands behind his back, and resigned himself to waiting. Giving Irakles a bow, he left to follow the servant through the meandering halls of the palati. Unlike other lords, he did not feel guilty in eschewing that portion of his duty. He saw to his own affairs. Let the others deal with their own lands. After all, that’s why they were barons. They didn’t need his supervision and he didn’t feel like offering it without someone expressly asking. Unlike Irakles, he had no wish to police other people out of his jurisdiction.
The room he was led to was one he’d been in before a few years ago. Of all his virtues, patience was the one he was known for. He needed it when it came to hunting. There were times he’d stay long hours at the base of a tree, bow held carefully, arrow notched, just waiting for the deer to wander by. Then he’d swing up the bow, string already drawn back, aim, and fire. However, in the palati, he found his usually never ending fortitude wearing thin.
He was standing at a window, looking out of it, his hands held behind his back, when Irakles finally breezed in. Gavriil turned and offered another bow, as protocol dictated, and approached where Irakles sat. Continuing to stand, Gavriil drew in a deep breath, organizing what he wanted to say in his mind before speaking aloud.
Waving off the niceties that Irakles was attempting to offer, Gavriil frowned. He eyed the sizeable bruise that now occupied Irakles’s face from the king’s punch yesterday. From the way Irakles had flown, that had to have hurt. But Gavriil did not ask about the man’s injury. It had hurt, it was healing. End of story. Nor did he offer sympathy. Irakles was a retired general and didn’t require it. Instead, Gavriil’s face was creased with concern for a different reason entirely.
“Yesterday’s Senate meet has been haunting me,” he said without preamble. “The accusations made against the king are based in reality, I trust?” Without giving Irakles a chance to say yes or no, he closed his eyes, put his palms together, and then glared toward Irakles with such an intensity as he rarely used, and never on someone above his station. “The king might be an immoral man among such immoral men, but I have never perceived him to be that good a liar or even that ambitious.”
He was thinking about how most of Stephanos’s time, when not spent in the company of his brothers in the Order was at the chariot races or in the bed of someone’s daughter. He could not imagine Stephanos plotting and executing such a scheme, especially alone. It didn’t fit the easy going, womanizer prince he knew.
Of all the royal head of houses, Gavriil of Dimitrou was perhaps the one that Irakles took some time to get a read on. He was unaffected by the political game played within Court - but of course, that he spent so much more time in his barony then he did in the capitol was probably a testament to how uneager the man was to partake in such games. Yet, for an old man who was happy to simply warm the seat of his barony, Irakles was finding it surprising that he would play so hard in the corner for Stephanos. Did his nephew have a friend in the old Dimitrou lord? The information would be surprising indeed, for if Irakles knew Stephanos, he did not think the young upstart would be capable of befriending a man who spent so many years being loyal to a dead wife.
Watching as the Dimitrou lord spoke, he did not let his facial features betray his inner thoughts. Gavriil's suspicion was not unfounded, nor was it surprising. Irakles himself had spent many hours convincing the Senators and Masters of the council in the validity of his witnesses. That the stablehand's witness of Stephanos being late to the races was true of course, but the other two had been handsomely paid, and in a few days, would turn up dead in one of the many streets leading to a faraway province.
The man left no stone unturned.
But to Gavriil, instead Irakles allowed his features to turn troubled, as he took a deep breathe, leaning against his seat, almost entirely missing the serious look which Gavriil gave him. To a spectator, the man looked, for all intents and purposes, as if a man too tired to deal with all the nonsense that was happening around him, especially one of his age.
A bubbling cough that surfaced had him quickly grabbing the nearby chalice of watered down wine, using the liquid to soothe his ailment of the chest, before giving Gavriil another tired smile. "As much as I wish it was untrue, m'lord, I have to look into the claims that the people of the capitol has brought to my attention." It was a resigned sigh that came out of Irakles as he continued. "Like you, I believed my nephew to be unambitious. He had, afterall, spent many years enjoying his position as second son to the King, with no responsibilities to speak of. But when presented with a hooded figure who wears his signet ring, and then the witnesses as you saw who had came looking for me in a desperate attempt to find justice for the fair and just ruler my brother had been.... I could not sit down and do nothing, now could I m'lord?"
Running a hand through his hair, the man perched his elbows on his knees, worrying his bottom lip before giving Gavriil a look that was both worried and thoughtful. "I have my men searching the city now, and asking questions to people, and should you come up with any helpful information that would benefit my nephew's stance... I would appreciate it, Lord Gavriil. I have no wish to see Stephanos incarcerated... but at the same time, I cannot help but to wonder that the many years spent under his father and brother had got to him. I have shared many conversations with him in which he questioned his father's decisions in certain matters. There are... things, that you may not know plague the destiny of second son's." Perhaps, in a different life, he and Stephanos would have been able to bond and connect due to their similar positions in life.
Maybe... if the old general had not, bigger dreams he wished to achieve.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Of all the royal head of houses, Gavriil of Dimitrou was perhaps the one that Irakles took some time to get a read on. He was unaffected by the political game played within Court - but of course, that he spent so much more time in his barony then he did in the capitol was probably a testament to how uneager the man was to partake in such games. Yet, for an old man who was happy to simply warm the seat of his barony, Irakles was finding it surprising that he would play so hard in the corner for Stephanos. Did his nephew have a friend in the old Dimitrou lord? The information would be surprising indeed, for if Irakles knew Stephanos, he did not think the young upstart would be capable of befriending a man who spent so many years being loyal to a dead wife.
Watching as the Dimitrou lord spoke, he did not let his facial features betray his inner thoughts. Gavriil's suspicion was not unfounded, nor was it surprising. Irakles himself had spent many hours convincing the Senators and Masters of the council in the validity of his witnesses. That the stablehand's witness of Stephanos being late to the races was true of course, but the other two had been handsomely paid, and in a few days, would turn up dead in one of the many streets leading to a faraway province.
The man left no stone unturned.
But to Gavriil, instead Irakles allowed his features to turn troubled, as he took a deep breathe, leaning against his seat, almost entirely missing the serious look which Gavriil gave him. To a spectator, the man looked, for all intents and purposes, as if a man too tired to deal with all the nonsense that was happening around him, especially one of his age.
A bubbling cough that surfaced had him quickly grabbing the nearby chalice of watered down wine, using the liquid to soothe his ailment of the chest, before giving Gavriil another tired smile. "As much as I wish it was untrue, m'lord, I have to look into the claims that the people of the capitol has brought to my attention." It was a resigned sigh that came out of Irakles as he continued. "Like you, I believed my nephew to be unambitious. He had, afterall, spent many years enjoying his position as second son to the King, with no responsibilities to speak of. But when presented with a hooded figure who wears his signet ring, and then the witnesses as you saw who had came looking for me in a desperate attempt to find justice for the fair and just ruler my brother had been.... I could not sit down and do nothing, now could I m'lord?"
Running a hand through his hair, the man perched his elbows on his knees, worrying his bottom lip before giving Gavriil a look that was both worried and thoughtful. "I have my men searching the city now, and asking questions to people, and should you come up with any helpful information that would benefit my nephew's stance... I would appreciate it, Lord Gavriil. I have no wish to see Stephanos incarcerated... but at the same time, I cannot help but to wonder that the many years spent under his father and brother had got to him. I have shared many conversations with him in which he questioned his father's decisions in certain matters. There are... things, that you may not know plague the destiny of second son's." Perhaps, in a different life, he and Stephanos would have been able to bond and connect due to their similar positions in life.
Maybe... if the old general had not, bigger dreams he wished to achieve.
Of all the royal head of houses, Gavriil of Dimitrou was perhaps the one that Irakles took some time to get a read on. He was unaffected by the political game played within Court - but of course, that he spent so much more time in his barony then he did in the capitol was probably a testament to how uneager the man was to partake in such games. Yet, for an old man who was happy to simply warm the seat of his barony, Irakles was finding it surprising that he would play so hard in the corner for Stephanos. Did his nephew have a friend in the old Dimitrou lord? The information would be surprising indeed, for if Irakles knew Stephanos, he did not think the young upstart would be capable of befriending a man who spent so many years being loyal to a dead wife.
Watching as the Dimitrou lord spoke, he did not let his facial features betray his inner thoughts. Gavriil's suspicion was not unfounded, nor was it surprising. Irakles himself had spent many hours convincing the Senators and Masters of the council in the validity of his witnesses. That the stablehand's witness of Stephanos being late to the races was true of course, but the other two had been handsomely paid, and in a few days, would turn up dead in one of the many streets leading to a faraway province.
The man left no stone unturned.
But to Gavriil, instead Irakles allowed his features to turn troubled, as he took a deep breathe, leaning against his seat, almost entirely missing the serious look which Gavriil gave him. To a spectator, the man looked, for all intents and purposes, as if a man too tired to deal with all the nonsense that was happening around him, especially one of his age.
A bubbling cough that surfaced had him quickly grabbing the nearby chalice of watered down wine, using the liquid to soothe his ailment of the chest, before giving Gavriil another tired smile. "As much as I wish it was untrue, m'lord, I have to look into the claims that the people of the capitol has brought to my attention." It was a resigned sigh that came out of Irakles as he continued. "Like you, I believed my nephew to be unambitious. He had, afterall, spent many years enjoying his position as second son to the King, with no responsibilities to speak of. But when presented with a hooded figure who wears his signet ring, and then the witnesses as you saw who had came looking for me in a desperate attempt to find justice for the fair and just ruler my brother had been.... I could not sit down and do nothing, now could I m'lord?"
Running a hand through his hair, the man perched his elbows on his knees, worrying his bottom lip before giving Gavriil a look that was both worried and thoughtful. "I have my men searching the city now, and asking questions to people, and should you come up with any helpful information that would benefit my nephew's stance... I would appreciate it, Lord Gavriil. I have no wish to see Stephanos incarcerated... but at the same time, I cannot help but to wonder that the many years spent under his father and brother had got to him. I have shared many conversations with him in which he questioned his father's decisions in certain matters. There are... things, that you may not know plague the destiny of second son's." Perhaps, in a different life, he and Stephanos would have been able to bond and connect due to their similar positions in life.
Maybe... if the old general had not, bigger dreams he wished to achieve.
Gavriil knew that Irakles was a cunning man, but even he underestimated the lengths of cunning the prince would go to to ensure victory. He did not think that Irakles would feign fatigue and the cough had the baron concerned for the prince regent’s health. While he held no love for the man in front of him, he did not like suffering either. When Irakles drank and cleared away the cough, he felt a little better to see that the other man was at least able to hold a conversation. They were all in real trouble if Irakles died while Stephanos’s fate was held in the balance.
He listened without interruption as Irakles spoke. The man had a gift for speech because he had Gavriil half believing everything he was saying by the end. Enough for him to be conflicted, at the very least. Gavriil liked to be fair and to give each side a chance. He was willing to be wrong in his assumptions that Stephanos could not be a cold blooded murderer. Stranger things had definitely happened and, as Irakles so deftly pointed out, being a second son was a difficult position to be in, mentally speaking.
He still did not believe Stephanos had the ambition. That he’d never seen on display, but the man was a loose canon with his temper. Who knew? It might not have been premeditated. Perhaps the three had gotten into some kind of dispute? But Zenon was not a weak man and Zacharias was in his prime. Stephanos was a general, sure, but to take on two other men who knew as much, if not more than he did? It was unlikely he’d win without any damage to his person. Which meant he’d had help.
Gavriil kept his thoughts to himself. Irakles was still not an innocent lamb and he could not yet give Irakles a carte blanche pass. It was all still too fresh. Too many questions still left hanging in the air. Too many things conveniently produced, whatever Irakles said.
“I thank you for giving me such thorough answers,” he held his hands behind his back. “And for lending me your valuable time.” He did not say more. Anything else would have been to tip his hand as to where his thoughts lay and he did not want to give Irakles any reason beyond what he’d just asked to take any sort of action. He waited to be dismissed before leaving. This talk had not been as many answers as he’d wanted but it was as productive as he’d thought it might be. Still. He’d had to try.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Gavriil knew that Irakles was a cunning man, but even he underestimated the lengths of cunning the prince would go to to ensure victory. He did not think that Irakles would feign fatigue and the cough had the baron concerned for the prince regent’s health. While he held no love for the man in front of him, he did not like suffering either. When Irakles drank and cleared away the cough, he felt a little better to see that the other man was at least able to hold a conversation. They were all in real trouble if Irakles died while Stephanos’s fate was held in the balance.
He listened without interruption as Irakles spoke. The man had a gift for speech because he had Gavriil half believing everything he was saying by the end. Enough for him to be conflicted, at the very least. Gavriil liked to be fair and to give each side a chance. He was willing to be wrong in his assumptions that Stephanos could not be a cold blooded murderer. Stranger things had definitely happened and, as Irakles so deftly pointed out, being a second son was a difficult position to be in, mentally speaking.
He still did not believe Stephanos had the ambition. That he’d never seen on display, but the man was a loose canon with his temper. Who knew? It might not have been premeditated. Perhaps the three had gotten into some kind of dispute? But Zenon was not a weak man and Zacharias was in his prime. Stephanos was a general, sure, but to take on two other men who knew as much, if not more than he did? It was unlikely he’d win without any damage to his person. Which meant he’d had help.
Gavriil kept his thoughts to himself. Irakles was still not an innocent lamb and he could not yet give Irakles a carte blanche pass. It was all still too fresh. Too many questions still left hanging in the air. Too many things conveniently produced, whatever Irakles said.
“I thank you for giving me such thorough answers,” he held his hands behind his back. “And for lending me your valuable time.” He did not say more. Anything else would have been to tip his hand as to where his thoughts lay and he did not want to give Irakles any reason beyond what he’d just asked to take any sort of action. He waited to be dismissed before leaving. This talk had not been as many answers as he’d wanted but it was as productive as he’d thought it might be. Still. He’d had to try.
Gavriil knew that Irakles was a cunning man, but even he underestimated the lengths of cunning the prince would go to to ensure victory. He did not think that Irakles would feign fatigue and the cough had the baron concerned for the prince regent’s health. While he held no love for the man in front of him, he did not like suffering either. When Irakles drank and cleared away the cough, he felt a little better to see that the other man was at least able to hold a conversation. They were all in real trouble if Irakles died while Stephanos’s fate was held in the balance.
He listened without interruption as Irakles spoke. The man had a gift for speech because he had Gavriil half believing everything he was saying by the end. Enough for him to be conflicted, at the very least. Gavriil liked to be fair and to give each side a chance. He was willing to be wrong in his assumptions that Stephanos could not be a cold blooded murderer. Stranger things had definitely happened and, as Irakles so deftly pointed out, being a second son was a difficult position to be in, mentally speaking.
He still did not believe Stephanos had the ambition. That he’d never seen on display, but the man was a loose canon with his temper. Who knew? It might not have been premeditated. Perhaps the three had gotten into some kind of dispute? But Zenon was not a weak man and Zacharias was in his prime. Stephanos was a general, sure, but to take on two other men who knew as much, if not more than he did? It was unlikely he’d win without any damage to his person. Which meant he’d had help.
Gavriil kept his thoughts to himself. Irakles was still not an innocent lamb and he could not yet give Irakles a carte blanche pass. It was all still too fresh. Too many questions still left hanging in the air. Too many things conveniently produced, whatever Irakles said.
“I thank you for giving me such thorough answers,” he held his hands behind his back. “And for lending me your valuable time.” He did not say more. Anything else would have been to tip his hand as to where his thoughts lay and he did not want to give Irakles any reason beyond what he’d just asked to take any sort of action. He waited to be dismissed before leaving. This talk had not been as many answers as he’d wanted but it was as productive as he’d thought it might be. Still. He’d had to try.
He could see that he swayed the old man. Gavriil of Dimitrou, while known to be one who was introspective and was not easily swayed by the opinions of other's, was also someone who is blinded by duty. In this case, duty to the crown, and justice to whoever had been wronged. And if Irakles could weave his words just right, he could paint the crown as wronged by Stephanos... afterall, that was exactly what he had been planning to do.
It was not far fetched to have Stephanos lost his temper at his brother and father, for the young prince (back then at least) had a temper that was as unpredictable as the wind, and let his emotions ruled before logic. Irakles was determined to let that be his downfall.
"I will give answers to whoever asks, my lord. I only hope I am granted the same in return. It is difficult to seek for the truth when information is withheld, as I'm sure you would understand." he returned with a soft, almost sad smile. That anyone would dare withhold information from the terrifying former general of the Taengean armies was a laughable statement, but the truth of the matter was age was catching up to the man, seen in both the graying hair on his head, and the few ailments that peppered his life. But while his muscles were growing, his mind stayed sharp.
"Anytime at all, Lord Gavriil. But I'm afraid, so long as I have answered all of your lingering questions, that I must take my leave. A few barons have remained to ask me some queries, and I shall see to them now." he paused, and then offered a congenial smile. "I do hope to see you at my son's wedding, my lord. While it seems unsuitable to hold such an event in these times, I'm afraid the promise between myself and the Leventi family can no longer be postponed." It had been already delayed twice before, and Irakles no longer wanted to send out runners notifying their guests a third time of a delay.
With a bow as the lord took his leave, Irakles waited till the doors closed behind the Dimitrou lord, before the smile dropped from his face, replaced by a frown. Gavriil of Dimitrou was a man who asked too many questions, and for that, Irakles would see to him.
But not now. Now he had more important matters to tend to.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
He could see that he swayed the old man. Gavriil of Dimitrou, while known to be one who was introspective and was not easily swayed by the opinions of other's, was also someone who is blinded by duty. In this case, duty to the crown, and justice to whoever had been wronged. And if Irakles could weave his words just right, he could paint the crown as wronged by Stephanos... afterall, that was exactly what he had been planning to do.
It was not far fetched to have Stephanos lost his temper at his brother and father, for the young prince (back then at least) had a temper that was as unpredictable as the wind, and let his emotions ruled before logic. Irakles was determined to let that be his downfall.
"I will give answers to whoever asks, my lord. I only hope I am granted the same in return. It is difficult to seek for the truth when information is withheld, as I'm sure you would understand." he returned with a soft, almost sad smile. That anyone would dare withhold information from the terrifying former general of the Taengean armies was a laughable statement, but the truth of the matter was age was catching up to the man, seen in both the graying hair on his head, and the few ailments that peppered his life. But while his muscles were growing, his mind stayed sharp.
"Anytime at all, Lord Gavriil. But I'm afraid, so long as I have answered all of your lingering questions, that I must take my leave. A few barons have remained to ask me some queries, and I shall see to them now." he paused, and then offered a congenial smile. "I do hope to see you at my son's wedding, my lord. While it seems unsuitable to hold such an event in these times, I'm afraid the promise between myself and the Leventi family can no longer be postponed." It had been already delayed twice before, and Irakles no longer wanted to send out runners notifying their guests a third time of a delay.
With a bow as the lord took his leave, Irakles waited till the doors closed behind the Dimitrou lord, before the smile dropped from his face, replaced by a frown. Gavriil of Dimitrou was a man who asked too many questions, and for that, Irakles would see to him.
But not now. Now he had more important matters to tend to.
He could see that he swayed the old man. Gavriil of Dimitrou, while known to be one who was introspective and was not easily swayed by the opinions of other's, was also someone who is blinded by duty. In this case, duty to the crown, and justice to whoever had been wronged. And if Irakles could weave his words just right, he could paint the crown as wronged by Stephanos... afterall, that was exactly what he had been planning to do.
It was not far fetched to have Stephanos lost his temper at his brother and father, for the young prince (back then at least) had a temper that was as unpredictable as the wind, and let his emotions ruled before logic. Irakles was determined to let that be his downfall.
"I will give answers to whoever asks, my lord. I only hope I am granted the same in return. It is difficult to seek for the truth when information is withheld, as I'm sure you would understand." he returned with a soft, almost sad smile. That anyone would dare withhold information from the terrifying former general of the Taengean armies was a laughable statement, but the truth of the matter was age was catching up to the man, seen in both the graying hair on his head, and the few ailments that peppered his life. But while his muscles were growing, his mind stayed sharp.
"Anytime at all, Lord Gavriil. But I'm afraid, so long as I have answered all of your lingering questions, that I must take my leave. A few barons have remained to ask me some queries, and I shall see to them now." he paused, and then offered a congenial smile. "I do hope to see you at my son's wedding, my lord. While it seems unsuitable to hold such an event in these times, I'm afraid the promise between myself and the Leventi family can no longer be postponed." It had been already delayed twice before, and Irakles no longer wanted to send out runners notifying their guests a third time of a delay.
With a bow as the lord took his leave, Irakles waited till the doors closed behind the Dimitrou lord, before the smile dropped from his face, replaced by a frown. Gavriil of Dimitrou was a man who asked too many questions, and for that, Irakles would see to him.
But not now. Now he had more important matters to tend to.