So, perhaps a brief rundown of how a conversation with a woman usually went for Rafail would be beneficial in this situation.

Things would usually start off quite simply. Rafail would have found himself just the perfect kind of girl: pretty; a few inches shorter than he - the perfect height would have to be just around seven or eight inches shorter, somewhere around five foot six; he preferred them with lighter hair and the heaviest of busts; obedient and naive; often stupid enough that they could be turned to his charms with the fewest of words and new enough in bed that they could be moulded to his exact tastes. Of course, such ideal girls were very rare to find and the man often had to accept those who only suited a few of his strict preferences.

With the best possible candidate for the moment found, it was nothing more than a matter of getting them into bed. Sweet words took the hearts of most girls and the ones that still held their control only required a little more. Some twists and turns here and some almost garish displays of wealth and power there and women seemed to fall before him. And how he adored it when women fell to his feet with such subservience and desire to please. It would almost be comical were it not so delightfully pleasurable. Women had a tendency to adore Rafail and give him his every which sexual want - whether 'twas because they were willing or because they had no other choice through their career and after the pay he offered them - and that was exactly how he enjoyed his life. Wholly hedonistic.

Danae, now she was not cooperating with the way he intended to have things go.

She was one of the few women who made an exception to the rule, the horrid marvels that didn't feel intrinsically pulled into his arms and could not be seduced. Those were, for lack of any better word, a nightmare, and their infrequency in his life meant that he was not so easily equipped to handle the moments when they did crop up, and his words came out less smoothly than was regular.

"Blathering idiot? The only one who makes themselves appear any sort of fool here is you. I, on the other hand, I never appear a thing less than perfect. You shall come to notice that in time as well. I have heard that idiocy takes a while to get over." Selective hearing, that was what they called it. In a direct conversation such as this, Rafail had no choice but to stand by any insults and argue against them himself. When they were outside of his direct bubble of interest, then he could not have cared less what negativities people had to say about him so long as there was someone who could back him up in most instances and ensure the rumours that circulated about him did not tarnish his reputation outside of how he willed it. "If you are aware of the name, use it. Father chose it with good reason." And, for the most part, Rafail tended to trust his father's decisions, especially those that pertained to himself. After all, there was no reason he could imagine that Panos would ever do anything to place his arguably most valuable child in any disagreeable position, even from the mere first moments of his birth.

Her further comments on the station he occupied and the way he deserved to be treated as a result were unwarranted, useless remarks that he had no need for - Danae had already managed to make her thoughts clear and, honestly, there was nothing left to say. Rafail could only guarantee one thing: in future, his was not a name Danae would be forgetting and respect for him was not something she would ever lack again. There was still one princess who had yet to be thrown into any sort of betrothal and the man had his sights set high. Let his cousin ever dare call him anything less than Lord in the future when the throne had returned to its rightful line.

Presence?

Rafail had an enormous presence. It was nigh on impossible not to notice him when he entered any space, public or otherwise.

"Neither Elias nor your father speak of me as they have no reason to. The sole reason I ever attend the Senate is because I have no other choice. If I had my way I need never visit - the place is full of dull, elderly men and fools who have nothing of use to say - but, unfortunately, it is a tedious part of my duties." Rafail was not afraid to share all his struggles and pleas for pity with his cousin, no matter what she thought of him, gazing at the roof above him and releasing a sigh far more dramatic than was needed for the situation. "I adore my title but, alas, 'tis such an unstimulating gift to manage at times. Father and Pavlos are almost lucky they have nought else to occupy their time and hence do not understand the suffering and sacrifice of my visits."

It was convenient, really. Their constant occupation with all complicated matters and wonderfully useful ability to handle anything he deemed too boring for himself meant that most issues were already handled before they reached him. That was a level of control he deemed acceptable. "If I were you, I would learn to appreciate their superior status and the control they do have. After all, on marriage, I doubt your husband shall be as lenient as they. My wife, I can guarantee you, I would never allow her as much freedom as your family allows you. If I had my way I would rather she barely be given the opportunity to speak, let alone visit the Dikastírio."

Well, was he not so obviously an authority? Perhaps not in Danae's eyes but certainly in those of others. Rafail knew the command he held over others, so obvious when he deigned to visit his humdrum, paltry province of Thesnia and those who inhabited the place had so much to say about the scarcity of their baron's visits; so obvious when he strode with such bewitching pride into any whorehouse in the kingdom and so obvious in the way he carried himself. "Dear cousin, the only days I drink too much are those that I find myself in bed with some flea-riddled whores who should have left in the midst of the night when they had served their purpose and who shan't receive any pay from my hand, and if I can assure you of one thing, it's that this morning I had my two most favourite ladies from Corinth in my chambers." There had been drinks aplenty, of course, but it was hardly so much that would be cause for concern or enough to confuse his head. Rafail surprisingly knew how to control himself.

"Allow me to ease your worry. I could not care less for your future marriage, I simply pity the man who has you. Perhaps your dowry shall be impressive enough but no man would take that without the realisation that your demeanour is...less than desirable. At least Mama knew to act like a lady. Favoured daughter or not, there is nothing to gain from marriage with you. On the other hand, and allow me to make this especially clear to you, my future wife shall become a baroness and receive the honour of having married the most devastatingly handsome royal man in Greece, favourite of his Father. Or have you not noticed the clear intentions he has regarding my courting Princess Emilia?" If the girl wished to hint at parental favouritism, then Rafail was willing to play her game and show her just how much his own father valued him, especially with regards to the man's attempts in having him rejoin the royal line. He knew full well that, with Pavlos otherwise preoccupied in life, Rafail most certainly occupied the position of favoured son.

"As for my brother, he already holds Father's lands, as he has for almost twenty years now. Father passed him our land and gifted me my barony, and I am heir to all that which Pavlos currently holds. If you wish to educate yourself on the Marikas family, I am happy to direct you to our library where you can peruse our history at your leisure." As for his reputation, was it not yet clear that Rafail had spent good time twisting one of the King's very daughters to view the gossip that was spread about him as nothing more than slander? There were no doubts in his mind that she would be soon to turn to accept his approaches. "I am sure I shall do just fine. Women do not tend to be so intelligent that the idle talk they hear isn't easy to rewrite."

Rafail had never given his future marriage too much thought, to be perfectly candid. The most he had considered, an almost unchanging fantasy since the age of thirteen, was that his father would be organising a beneficial marriage that suited both him and the Marikas name just fine, raising them to the heights they deserved. His wife would be slight and demure and ideal to his every specification, oh-so-happy to leave him to do whatever and whoever he might have set his sights on and yet capable of producing the very heirs they first required. Further than this, he had no thoughts on the matter, although he could not help but chuckle at the comment about his bedding habits. He was damn proud of his sexual prowess and he would let it be known. Unless hiding it was a requirement for seduction.

What would not be tolerated, however, were direct insults to his family.

"The Marikas line is the finest in Athenia," he objected, pushing himself from the pillar he had been resting against, glare hardening. The comment had clearly hit him almost as hard as it was intended to, though aside from his stony expression, it was not all so obvious in his physical appearance, the slightest tinge of pink appearing in his cheeks as a sign of his frustration. "I take it that for all your dignity you have inherited the Stravos stupidity, hm? Or do you forget that we have held the throne more times than any other? None other has held such an honour. Perhaps if you wish to insult my house you should find something based more in fact, as I can assure that all Marikas heirs are excellent specimens and not one of us disappoints."

Expression shifting back over her head once again, he noted that the current meeting must have been coming to an end as more people were already starting to leave the main part of the building, sidling out to where the pair of them were standing. Spotting his relatives exiting as well, Rafail gave Danae what might have passed as an apologetic smile were it not so obviously otherwise from the context of their conversation. "My apologies, I believe I have more important matters at present if you don't mind my tearing myself away from you. Perhaps it should excite you to know that I believe I have caught sight of your own father and brother, and I am sure they shall be more than willing to entertain your meaningless tribulations."

Smoothing down his chiton and switching his expression to something ever so slightly more to humour Father and Pavlos as only he felt he knew how, Rafail moved to pass his cousin, bumping into her with as little care as possible, making it obvious the girl did not matter to him as he crossed in the direction of the other Marikas men. A thought crossed his mind then, and he stopped himself in his tracks, turning his head to glance back at the girl one final time. "Oh, and I have no interest in bastards. If some bitch wishes to claim she is carrying my child then she may handle it herself. I make that clear enough when I first fuck them."