Aimias had been up since dawn. Not because the king’s condition warranted it, but because there was much to do and he was being trusted to do it. Sleep had been hard to come by, until his daughter had come knocking on his door, blanket in hand. He could hardly refuse the look of her, thumb in mouth, needing the comfort of her father. So he didn’t even hesitate as he picked her up and tucked her into the side her mother used to occupy. When he rose that morning, he pressed a pillow to her side, so she wouldn’t miss his presence too much. As he stepped out of the bedroom quarters of their suite, it brought him relief to see that her nanny was already there. He could freely leave now and do his duty.

Padding off to the baths, Aimias could feel the tension within the palati. The cusp of change was upon them, and the whole house was rooting for the Xanthos family. It overwhelmed the underlying grief, knowing that the King was far closer to death than any of them had expected. The few servants and slaves that he came across offered their respectful bows, not that he deserved them. As just an advisor, he didn’t feel as if he had earned it. He nodded his head to each, grateful that they still believed in him. In their cause.

While sitting in the baths, he tried to empty his mind, to focus on anything else but the upcoming vote. He tried not to run the numbers again, tried not to count each family, each senator, and each whispered edge they had. The testimony of the pirate and the lady would make all the difference, they had been sure. But he didn’t like taking chances, not with a family he’d been so close to from a young age. Minas has trusted him, trusted his advice, and had become like a father to him.

He would mourn his death silently, would be a rock for the girls to grieve, and would push the Queen into her new position with support and love. It was all he could do.

Using an old technique he learned during university, he started to recite old tomes he had memorized long ago. The old habit helped him relax, helped him clear his mind of his worries. He often did it on nights when he couldn’t sleep, or before a gathering when he needed his mind clear. And on today, of all days, he would need a clear mind.

Having spent far too long in meditation, he quickly left the tubs. Drying off, he changed into a sensible black chiton, the gold pin in place to show his position within the royal Athenian house. The palati was starting to come to life, and Aimias knew that it wouldn’t be long before the King was awake. Even though he had taken to sleeping more often, for longer stretches, King Minas would not miss this day for nothing.

There was no need to knock on the King’s quarters— one of the physicians was waiting for him at the door. His face was stoic, ”Good, you are here. He had a rough night.”

”Stress due to the meeting?” Aimias asked, his voice low in case the King could hear.

”Most likely. But I think it’s more than that. He wouldn’t take the potions last night, so he was most likely in pain last night as well. Said he wanted a clear head today.”

He will most likely suffer for it, Aimias thought sadly. The two men pressed forward into the room, quickly greeted by a dozen or so servants, all working in a flurry of motion around the King. A bath was being prepared, while one of the servants tried to convince the man to drink a steam cup of herbs. Minas was trying his best to ignore the girl, but Aimias stepped forward, plucking the cup and placing it in the hands of the king. “To start, Your Majesty. It will help ease your stomach and help with energy. You’ll need to eat more than broth today if you wish to have the strength to make it through the whole meeting.” He knew he wouldn’t be argued with, and he was proven correct as the contents of the mug were quickly consumed without further argument.

The bath was purfumed with herbs and oils, all backed by the herbalist and physicians who were treating the king. Frankincense, for healing. Cypress to improve his overall circulation. Lavender and vetiver to calm. The tea has been peppermint and ginger, with some marjoram to help with the pain. While it would not heal what was killing the King, it would go to ease his discomfort. Aimias stood towards the back of the room, his ever watchful eye on those who were close to the king. If anyone was going to try anything, he would be the first to notice.

Lucky for them, it didn’t seem as if anyone wished to stop the vote that would happen today. He chalked that up to Elias figuring it would go his way without a doubt.

A quick prayer to the Gods, but especially to Zeus, to give the King strength to make it through the meeting. And to Athenia, for the wisdom to know when to step in.

While the bath had not exactly put a spring in his step, the difference from the man who went into the bath and the man who came out was noticeable. The King has wasted away in the course of weeks, and Aimias was silently fretting the day when Minas would take his last breath. It would be a sad day, for the man had shown a faith in him that Aimias didn’t even see in himself. The young man had come into the Xanthos home and stranger, and now he felt like family. And that feeling was even stronger when Philipa was so well cared for, all at the courtesy of the King.

Minas would die. And he would mourn in his own, silent way. Much like he had the death of this wife. But this time, his focus would have to be the royal family. He would be critical to aiding the transition, and he refused to let him down.

They dressed the King, leaving any sort of heavy ornamental pieces of later. He was moved to the small table in his room, refusing to laying in bed to eat (although Aimias was sure that he was worried he wouldn’t be able to get back up if he was in bed). An initial argument rose between King and advisor over the meal, but once again, the calm logic of the younger man won out. That was when his daughters walked into the room. Aimias thanked the gods that their father was at least upright. The presence of the two girls would greatly assist his mood and disposition. The advisor gave Emilia a reassuring wink, bowing to Persephone before returning to the King’s side. Once his meal was adequately finished, the finishing touches were placed and they were ready to depart.

He watched the silent battle for leading the way and was unsurprised when Persephone took charge, allowing her father one more victory in a world where he would only see so few.

Aimias didn’t wait, didn’t seek permission. He simply stepped up to the King, offered his arm in support, and did not give him a choice in the matter. There was a small sense of relief in the dying man’s eyes, and together, the pair followed the eldest daughter towards the carriages.

The younger man was quick to hand the king off to the other servants, who would see he was assisted and comfortable in the carriage. He made his way to Persephone’s, quietly waiting for her to say goodbye to her sister. When the princess took his offered hand into the carriage, he gave her a small, reassuring smile. A moment was taken so she could carefully arrange her skirts before he stepped into the plush carriage with her. He took his seat across from her, looking out the window to give her a moment’s privacy.

She was as tense and a taunt bow, but who wouldn’t be with a day like this. The carriage rolled into motion and as soon as they were clear of the grounds, Aimias reached across, settling his hand on top of hers. He gave them a soft, comforting squeeze, then pulled them away. ”Worry not, your highness. The herbs seemed to have given him an appetite this morning. And his spirits are far better than they’ve been all week.” Aimias was not a man of many words, his focus on the subject always a bit intense and meaningful. ”He believes in you. Has faith in you. And he wouldn’t be forcing this vote if he didn’t. The Senate will pass the vote. And you will be Queen.”

His eyes softened, smile bittersweet. ”I’ve counted and recounted the vote several times. Those on the fence will side with us once they hear what has to be said.” At least, he was almost sure they would.

"And now, oh Princess... you shall deal with me."

The blond image in the mirror smiled back at him, perfectly coiffed, not a crease in his chiton. The snow-white material fell to his ankles, lined with red and gold threads, with a himation the color of Stravos red draped over his left shoulder. The golden anchor of his house lay in the small indentation between his collar bones. Elias was leaving nothing to chance - absolutely nothing. He had one shot at this, and he'd be damned if he allowed some senile, dying King steal his rightful claim to the throne.

That claim was his.

It had been months of careful planning. One that the idiot prince of Colchis tried to unwind - Elias scoffed at his attempts. He had played right into his hands, despite what he thought. Did he take Elias of Stravos for a fool? He would not even think of playing such a ploy to endanger his own house and reputation, not without the appropriate cover up. The fact that the Senate was even entertaining the idea of someone like the pretty princess of Xanthos to be considered as an heir was a joke to him.

With another scoff, he turned away from his reflection after one last glance to ensure every blond strand was in its place. It would not do for him to walk out in anything but perfection after all - he had a reputation to uphold, and today of all days, Elias had to look impeccable.

With a smile on his lips, the young Stravos heir exited the family manor in which he had been residing over the past few months. His barony of Lyncestia had been left in the care of a steward he trusted, who had worked with him for years. For now, Elias had bigger issues to think of - a greater future in which he had to ensure would come to pass, for its fulfilment meant it would benefit Athenia... and fulfill his family's lifelong destiny. He was the firstborn son of a king's sister. He held as much claim to that throne as his cousins - even more, when he was of the superior gender and capability. The sort of capability he would imagine Persephone could only ever strive for, and never achieve.

Descending the stone steps towards the carriage bearing the Stravos crest and gilded in the colors of his house, Elias entered to its cushioned seats, settling as the servants closed the door behind him whilst he fastidiously arranged his clothes in a manner which would not crease and ruin his image. The whole ride there, the male kept his eyes on the streets whilst the wheels rumbled through the well-planned streets of the capital city.

What surprised Elias however, was when the carriage slowed. When he turned a questioning look to the accompanying outrider, the answer he got made the young lord raise a questioning, almost wry brow as his eyes peered out to the reason which had slowed his ride - the royal carriage of the Xanthos family. Were they late? And here Elias was expecting them to arrive early at the Senate. Last Kleio had informed him, Minas seemed to have taken a turn for the worst - just what Elias needed at this point. If he was right and the King showed his gaunt face at Senate - who would want to believe the decisions and arguments of someone as frail as Minas would look?

But what irritated the impatient male however, as he tapped in steady beats with the palms resting on his knee, was the amount of people whose eyes seemed to be following the carriage bearing the crest of the House Xanthos. His eyes narrowed watching the almost adoring way in which the eyes of the Athenians trailed after the carriage Elias was sure bore the royal family attending the Senate. He could not stay behind them. Elias wouldn't allow himself to be late. "Go around them. Use the smaller roads through the Outer Circle." his command was curt, and quickly followed, and the carriage soon picked up speed again, his eyes falling on the passing scenery of the capital city.

Why was there this need for this farce of a Senate meeting, the blond Stravos still found himself wondering even as he was on his way there. He had in all in the bag, did he not? If he counted the votes and the lands, they all leaned in his favor - it was a given. If one were to ask Elias if he was nervous, he would have laughed in the person's face, and waved them away as if they were a minor irritation. The Senate meet, at this point, simply served as an annoying blip in his daily activity - the faster he got it over with the better. Elias was thorough as a person with his plans, he knew better then to leave an opportunity for his enemy to swoop in.

That throne was as good as his.

By the time the carriage rolled to a stop outside the Senate house, a self-confident smile pulled at the baron's lips as the doors of the carriage was opened. In an assured manner, Elias stepped out, only offering an easy smile as a greeting to anyone who came up to him, but never going so far as to dip his head in respect. He wouldn't need to do any of that when he was King.

Hands behind his back, with his guards behind him and his assistant next to his step, Elias made his way into the Dikasitrio, his shoulders and posture primed and ready.

Aimias had always enjoyed the company of Persephone. While not her personal tutor, she had often come to him for advice or assistant in whatever she was working on. Most of the time, they spent their time in lively political debates, a favored teaching method of his. Even if he agreed with her point of view, he often took the opposite side, just to make her think on her toes. He enjoyed challenging her, and the way she embraced each of his curveball arguments warmed his heart. He may not have been the most emotional of people, but he showed his affection for her in her education.

He believed that nothing spoke louder than time spent together.

Having spent so much time in her company, Aimias could tell just how nervous she was. He should have instructed her maids to have a calming tea prepared. One of chamomile and peppermint, to help ease her stomach, too. Perhaps it would have helped settle her. But, as well as he knew her, he was sure that only a vote in her favor would put her mind at ease.

Her change of topic hinted at the need for a distraction, and he was more than willing to provide just that. After all, what father didn’t want to talk about his child? His smile turned soft, ”This one ‘doesn’t smell like cheese’, so it seems like a good match.” At a few months over two, Phillipa was vocal. She was learning to speak her mind, to form options and to vocalize those without restraint. While the tutor was focusing on teaching her the basics of childhood, the poor woman was also working on the idea of ‘thinking before speaking’, something the young child had no wish to master.

”Luckily, Danessa seems to be a bit more adept to handle her in her precociousness and curiosity. They seem to enjoy each other.” The recommendation from the Princess had been much appreciated, at a time when he was struggling to find someone who was willing to handle her questioning mind. ”She has demanded that I ask you to come to have a tea party with her, as soon as you are able. To quote, ‘I miss my Phee.’ Perhaps, once life settles down, an afternoon can be arranged.” It would be a difficult task, but if they planned it right, it could coincide with the nooning meal, then a nap could follow shortly after. It could be months before it happened, but there was little he could refuse his daughter.

If he could arrange tea with the Queen, he would do it.

For her.

”As always, I am grateful for the suggestion.” His throat tightened a bit, knowing that he needed more to distract her but had little to say. ”I was not aware that the Lady Iris was back in court.” It certainly didn’t feel like a safe conversation, in regards to his personal life. But he was willing to throw it out there if only to give her something to think about besides the upcoming vote. ”I had not seen her in almost a decade.”

The importance of this day weighed heavily on Panos' mind as he breakfasted earlier than usual that morning. He knew, eventually, it would come to this. He had known with enough time to play his own hand, but whether it was the a winning hand all came down to the events that lay ahead of him today.

He had spent many a late night and early morning debating and exploring the many pros and cons of the possible outcome. Whichever way it fell, Stravos or Xanthos, the outcome would send ripples throughout their society for years to come, possibly one more than the other.

He was lost deep in the recesses of his own thoughts when Pavlos finally came to tell him it was time. Panos nodded silently at his eldest son, a long sigh escaping his lungs. He rose slowly, straightened his chiton and as he passed his son, laid a hand of solidarity on his shoulder briefly, before passing. This was a big day for everyone.

Panos teeth were grinding with impatience at the disrespectful tardiness of his youngest son. The importance of this day seemed to be completely lost on him, and not for the first time, and certainly not the last, Panos felt as if any effort or hope he had ever laid in his youngest son was but for naught.

Finally, Rafail graced the family with his presence with a half-hearted apology. Panos stared at him, maybe with disbelief, maybe with annoyance, he couldn't even quite tell himself in that moment, but he was not amused, that much he was certain of. "This day is not about you, Rafail. You would do well to remember that today. Get in the carriage." He turned sharply on his heel and led the family out to meet the carriages, him and his sons in one, Sera and the girls in the other.

They made their way with relative ease, having still managed to leave early enough despite Rafail's tardiness. Only a few other families had arrived before them, and Panos was pleased that his family had arrived so promptly. It was a good look. He didn't imagine they had arrived too long after Stravos, which, while it irked him that they had gotten there first, was some consolation.

One thing was certain;

Today was going to be a big day. For everyone.

Persephone knew what Aimias was doing. And she was highly thankful for it. Not only had he picked up on the fact that she needed a distraction from the day - some sort of mental reprieve from what the next few hours would hold - but he was also ensuring that that conversation extended for as long as her nerves required it.

He spoke of his daughter, returning her idle banter regarding the new tutor she had suggested. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Persephone was glad to hear that the little girl was taken to her. While it was impossible for a child of such a young age to be able to take formal lessons - in writing or in arithmetic - it was important for the growing mind to be encouraged to grow. To question, to be curious... to know that - when the time was right - she would have the answers she wanted, but that didn't stop her from being able to ask of them now. It was also significantly vital that the child personally like her tutor and enjoy her company. So, hiring one at a young age when children formed strong attachments was imperative to their future learning. And it looked that - between them - Lord Aimias and herself had found just that in Danessa. Hopefully it would only improve the learning of Phillipa down the line, even if she was not yet ready to sit down and learn her alphas and betas.

When Lord Aimias commented that the girl was pleased to find her new tutor did not smell of cheese, she instinctively offered a small smile - her lips showing her inner amusement and pleasure at the natural precociousness of the young girl, even if her eyes didn't light up and the rest of her features didn't exactly scream contented amusement. For, no matter what Persephone tried - whether her thoughts were on the present conversation or not, her body and emotions appeared to have a mind of their own. And that mind had determined that abject terror was where she would physically sit until the end of the day. Actually, it was likely that such emotions would persist until the end of the week or beyond. For, no matter which way the events of today went, the ramifications of such a decision would ripple outwards for many days - if not decades - to come... Today might be the catalyst of that impetus... but it was not to be a solitary and exclusive experience. This senate meet would continue metaphorically for years to come.

Lord Aimias commented on the girl - Danessa, Persephone reminded herself, they were talking of Danessa - being able to handle the more impassioned nature of Phillipa. At two the girl was rambunctious and energetic. Her father had created for her a world in which nothing was scary and nothing was a concern to the safety of her person, mind, family or emotional security. It was an innocent Persephone could remember but no longer retain - even when she tried. The death of a parent when young was a sure way of losing such certainty and confidence that nothing in the world could hurt you. Luckily, Phillipa was too young for the death of her mother to register in such a way and she had clearly been able to maintain such a mindset. Or rather, the early demise of a parent had lot stolen it from her. For that, Persephone was glad.

"It is likely her age." Persephone commented back, a small piece of her mind continuing a conversation that the rest of her attention flittered in and out of. She felt as if she were a strainer - her mind only retaining certain pieces of information of the chatter within the carriage and the rest of it being filled with nothing but air. Heavy, depressing and worrisome air that pushed at the inside of her skull. "Danessa is not yet so mature that she has lost the understanding of what it means to be young." She stated with a wisdom beyond her years. It had been a long time since the twenty-two-year-old could really be considered "young". Perhaps that was why her connection with Aimias was so strong and based in a foundation of mutual understanding and respect - despite the fact that he was a dozen years her senior. "She can manage the energy without been exhausted by it. The two will grow together, which should be nice."

As the topic of conversation came to a close, Persephone's trailing voice a clear indication of her lack of focus on it, she moved to glance out of the curtained window of the carriage. She did little to indicate her presence to whomever might be looking towards the vehicle, moving the curtain further into the interior rather than away from the gap, allowing her to sneak a look down the opening through than through it.

The people of Athenia continued about their day as if nothing were the matter. And so, they should. While the general populace of Athenia knew that the nobles of their land held Senate, and they knew that such an important meeting was held every six weeks in a mass scale - the meetings in between were held weekly but often reserved to small or trivial matters like barony disputes and trading restrictions - they knew not, most of the time, what was discussed within them. Every month and a half, the people would notice an excessive number of carriages with royal and noble house insignias, driving to the Dikastirio and back, with a few hours to span the interim. They knew that, on such a day, big decisions regarding their kingdom would be made. But, given that most of those decisions were never to affect the lives of the fishermen, labourers and seamstresses alike, they would not feel the tension and potential trauma to their lands that waiting in the wings. They would not know what was happening around them and the changes to history that were about to be made. They simply continued on their day - fulfilling their singular and simple list of tasks that were due between sunup and sundown... and then they would continue the same tomorrow. None-the-wiser that anything hand changed (if indeed it did) until the king died and a princess became Queen over a lord becoming King. It was then that the public would have to be handled...

Suddenly, the relaxed and calm feeling that watching her people's daily routines had settled in her stomach was set adrift again at the idea of what she would tell them should such events unfold as they did in her mind. The lower classes were a simple people - uneducated to understand the intricacies of politics. They knew what it meant to have a King. They knew what it meant for a King to die. They would not be expecting Persephone - no matter any love they might hold for her - to be the next to grace the throne. That would need to be another fight she would have in order to attain that which her father wanted for her.

Swallowing back a moment of panic, Persephone almost had it together until she spotted, through the crack between fabric and vehicle, a carriage with the markings of the House of Stravos. As if she had been blessed with foresight or psychic premonitions, Persephone instantly knew that the box drawn by two white steeds contained her cousin Elias. It could have been any Stravos. All were likely to be in attendance this day. But somewhere in her mind, her chest, her heart - whatever it was speaking to her in that moment - Persephone knew it was Elias... and the bottom of her stomach immediately seemed to disappear.

Snapping back from the window and sitting straighter than she ever had before, Persephone felt, for a horrible moment, that she was going to burst into tears. That all of the stress so far that day was too much and her body simply needed an outlet. The bizarre, but perfectly accurate, thought that such behaviour would only ruin the heavier make up her maids had pasted onto her that morning, seemed to hold her fast. She swallowed and tasted bile. She swallowed again and tasted dryness.

It was in that moment that Aimias proved his value and his insightfulness by continuing their conversation as if nothing had happened, ignoring Persephone's strange reactions to the outside world and simply picking a topic that seemed to pop into his head without cause or reason.

Iris. He was talking of Iris.

Her mind coming back into focus and the fog that seemed to have been covering her eyes for a moment clearing, Persephone focused on naught but his words for a good few minutes before she responded. Aimias seemed to understand the delay in her answer and did nothing to push her and for that she was also thankful.

"I remember..." Persephone began before clearing her throat, pretending her moment of panic had not occurred. "I remember introducing the two of you so long ago... You seemed... fond of each other before she was forced to attend to matters in Aetaea." Persephone didn't care if her words were too forward or lacked elegance or propriety. Her and Aimias were often candid (possibly not in a public setting despite the carriage) but such a topic would not be inappropriate for them within the convinces of her lessons and her studies. As such, her thoughts latched onto such discourse quickly, once again becoming that strained - and holding on to anything that might stick and start to combat the foggy feeling inside her own head.

"I think Lady Iris would be just as glad to see you, now that she has returned to active courtly service..."

It was just as she was starting to grasp the conversation properly with these words, however, that the carriage came to a shuddering halt.

In fact, it didn't. It was a smooth halt that did little else than make Persephone sway a few inched forward and back. But, for all intents and purposes - to her - it might as well have come to a stop with a clank, shudder and clatter. Like the sounds of a dungeon door swinging into place. There was no escape now. They were here.

Persephone did not exit the carriage straight away. She was physically unable. It was like all of her muscles had locked her bones into place. Her entire frame had actually started to become painful with tension.

Glancing at Aimias and the way he looked at her Persephone let the corner of her mouth quirk upwards a moment, reminded of his lessons to her years ago when she had first had to deal with the court by herself...

She took a deep breath. So deep that it expanded her chest outwards to its furthest peak, filled her lungs and then let it out very, very slowly. As she repeated this a few times, she was pleased to note that the fogginess was clearing.

While Aimias held the door of the carriage shut so that no servant could pull it from the other side and open up her presence to the nobility before she was ready, Persephone smiled at him again and started to recite.

The words she was unable to remember and likely would remain forgotten until the day she died, but for the purposes of Aimias memory they were a mix of old history tomes she had studied, parts of the Athenian legacy list with names, ages and dates of all the ancestors of each royal house, and a few extracts from fictional stories that her mother had read to her as a child. None of it made sense, her brain leapt from one to the other, a certain word to sentence prompting a different piece of memorised information that then trailed from her mouth. The point was, that in focusing on the thoughts that produce the words instead of those that produced the tension, Persephone felt her body begin to relax, her father's words in her head.

"You are the princess of Athenia." He had told her whenever she thought she couldn't do something or had failed in attaining a result that she wanted. "It is your job to succeed." He had encouraged. "You have no choice, but to attain that which your role requires. Which means you have the Gods on your side." He had always then smiled at her. "And who else in this world can say that? Worry, means that you have lost faith in their abilities... Have you lost faith?"

"No..." Persephone murmured to herself, as if she had fully lost her mind... "I have not lost faith..." She closed her eyes, her eyelids heavy with power and paint, her lashes thick with the stuck, as she prayed to Athenia for wisdom, to Hera for guidance... She prayed to Zeus for strength and to Hephaestus to have the ability to beat her political enemies into the ground as he would his weapons upon his anvil.

"I am Princess Persephone of Athenia. I am a Xanthos." She opened her eyes. "I shall not yield."

And with that, Persephone opened the damn door to the carriage herself.

Stepping out of the vehicle, Persephone found herself, as expected, in the courtyard of the Dikastirio.

The building itself was one of the largest and grandest in Athenia. It stood as high as three storeys but once inside there was only a single space between foundation and ceiling, and was large enough in circumference for the place to hold every member of the Athenian nobility should they all be men and permitted to enter. The room always looked half empty once it was full of all male nobles who had the rights to enter it and it had not, in all the years of Athenian history, ever been too small to accommodate the voting minds of the elite. It had also, though this fact was more a matter of pride than one of practicality... had never been set foot in by an enemy of the state. No invading force or raiding faction within Athenia - and there had been several as time had progressed - had ever had their members penetrate the walls of the political mind of the city and land. Many believed that such loyal chastity had been protected by the Goddess of reason and wisdom... the patron Goddess of their lands Athena. Otherwise believed, however, that it was architecture. The building was circular, which made it hard for intruders to hide and progress in stages around its walls. The walls themselves were set back, the columns before them holding up the overhang to a rounded smooth roof which meant that, other than shimmying up the columns themselves - an impossible feat when each were two feet thick in radius, there was no way to advance up the structure either. The doors themselves were made of metal over wood and short of forge-hot flames melting them off their hinges there was little entry to be had. The Athenian people were a proud and elitist species who considered themselves the intellectuals of Greece. The fact that their greatest stronghold in the land was their political nerve centre made all the sense in the world. For many believed it to be a more significant building than the royal palace - perhaps even that the Naos of the Gods...

In heralding that significance and importance, the land around the Dikastirio was also finely cared for. The main courtyard was almost as large as the building itself, though was square in shape and struck out from the circular building at its from, the metal doors of its entrance front and centre at the back of the open space. Walls twice as high as a man marked the circumference of the paved square so as to ensure no lower-class citizens might peak at the proceedings within, or overhear private information. The only break in these walls were as the barriers met the columns of the Dikastirio and the giant archway - large enough for two carriages to pass one another abreast in its entry - standing in the exact opposite position to the entrance of the building. In the space between were paved slabs of alabaster strong broken here and there but planted trees and citrus bushes that gave the space a natural and friendly feeling, the green detracting from the austere stonework in which it sat.

This open space was almost as significant as the building beyond for, while the men of the nation were able to attend the discussion inside it was just as significant to hear the chatter of their women, waiting in the space here, as the carriages stood to one side to await the required journey home. The women, after all, would be the ones to speak with their husbands before and after such talks and - despite their presence being banned from within the walls of the Dikastirio - their role in the changing political landscape of Athenia was just as significant. The only difference on days like today was... that a vote would be being carried out. Meaning that it was only the pillow talk preceding the day that was of use to the women of the nobility. Such talks after would have to be focused on how to deal with any decision made, unable to offer any change to the outcome...

It was clear on the faces of the women present that all of them were fully aware of this. Kept out of the verbal and political action, several stood with a tension similar to Persephone's or with a hostility towards the female members of other Houses.

Every, single one of them - without exception - of course, turned said gaze on Persephone the moment to exited the carriage.

Some stared at her with curiosity, or an inspective eye. Likely measuring her worth as much as they could in so silent a moment and whether they would ever be able to accept her as a Queen instead of a Princess... Others did not bother to disguise open animosity. Whether this was from the idea of her as ruler making them angry or simple jealousy over the fact that she would be allowed within the Senate based on her rank outshining her gender, she was uncertain. And she did not wish to contemplate it. Now was not the time for additional concerns on top of the ones she already had.

Noting that her father had not yet exited the carriage, she was pleased to see that a manservant had jumped down to open his door as soon as she had made her presence known. Clearly the King had determined that he was not to make an appearance before his eldest daughter and Persephone felt nerves and pride mingle together. She knew everything he did was to ensure their family's future and prove that she was the one to be seen a monarch of Athenia over him, despite him still living. But she also, in many ways, wished he wouldn't do such things. It only made the future laid before her all the more real...

With her spine straight, her posture impeccable and her head held high with her crown shining in place, Persephone moved from her carriage to her father's side her eyes on both his frame and gait, but also on that of the people who watched him. For some, this was their first time seeing the man so outwardly sick. Before they had managed to contain it, to hide it. They had chosen lighter crowns that still appeared heavy, they had selected chitons that flowed loosely but did not make him look as if he had lost weight. They had even persuaded him on occasion to partake in a rouged powder to give colour back to his face. Now, there were no such tricks to be played. It was impossible to hide the fact that the man was dying. The bones in his face had become clear, the skin beneath his jaw loose. He still walked straight but his step was a gentler one than his normal assured stride - like he was afraid that stepping down with too much force might jar his bones or joints.

The fact that he wore a simple band crown around his temples - a symbol of his royalty three times smaller than the ivy decorated piece atop Persephone's head told all who laid their eyes on the Xanthos pair exactly what they intended to be decided that day.

Waved away by her father when she attempted to step up and offer her arm for him to walk, Persephone obeyed the man and - this time - insisted on him going before her and heading into the building first. It was as he did so that Persephone turned to look at each noble woman in turn who had congregated outside, as the Xanthos carriages were moved to the far corner of the courtyard in order to make the vision of the main doors one free of obstruction. She stared them each down, never breaking eye contact until she was ready to move onto the next, determined to impress upon them the force of her own will.

Her stomach might be churning, her head might be foggy, she might have the almost overwhelming desire to simultaneously hide, cry and vomit. But that did not mean that could see that. They would never see that. She would permit them to only ever see, in her place, a Queen.

Turning to follow her father, Persephone mounted the shallow set of semi-circular steps that rippled out from the main doors and was bowed through them by a set of servants in Senate uniform.

She did not look back.

The inside of the Dikastirio was just as grand and imposing as its exterior. All comprised of hard and unyielding stone, there ran a circular corridor all around the central room. The corridor was roughly four feet wide and was often a place of loitering and congregation for those unready to make their way into the main hall as yet. It was here that many of the lower noblemen were awaiting the arrival of their vassals or the royal family - whichever was their penchant. Without glancing their way, or offering them any form of challenge as she did the women outside, Persephone chose, instead, to make her case of leadership by ignoring their presence, and with Aimias a step behind her and to her right, she strode forwards amongst the crowd, altering her path not one inch when it strayed too close to male toes and instead had them move out of her presence. Her father she watched being escorted into the main hall, every noble he passed bowing at his presence. Persephone was offered similar but shallower signs of respect as she moved through them, avoided the main entrance to the hall and continued down the corridor and around the outer exterior of the Senate. Her intended destination and the path there took the princess around the entire circumference of the Dikastirio and to its southern facing side where there were additional chambers build off the back of the structure. Here, the doors stretched further away from the main hall and Persephone paused only momentarily for the servants on either side of it to open the portal for her use.

The chambers inside were sparsely furnished and basic in use. They looked more like the study of a commanding officer in the guard, with maps of Athenia upon the walls, a simple rug over the stone floor and a few desks and chairs provided for the occupants. It was clear that such a room was not used on a regular basis by a single person as there was no personalisation or additional materials available for use. It was clearly a holding place - a temporary space for when needed.

This time, it was needed - and utilised - by Lord Votis.

Mentor and trainer to Lord Aimias, Votis was a kindly but shrewd man who had more wrinkles in his face than striations in his eyes and he smiled with all of them. And his excessive eyebrows.

Offering a deep bow to the daughter of a king he had been loyal to for what seemed like generations, the Chief Advisor to the crown spoke with both familiarity - for he had known Persephone since her birth - and respect for the position he - along with other Xanthos supporters - hoped that she would have attained by the end of the day.

"Lord Iason, was just here, Your Highness." He told her with a smile and gesture back towards the door. "He was informed of your arrival and therefore headed to the main entrance. You must have taken separate paths."

Persephone nodded in thanks for the information but it was not only Lord Iason for whom she had come to see, but the other occupant within the room. Lord Votis had been charged with watching the man, though this was almost laughable given his advanced age and the health and violent strength of the man he was in charge of supervising. The pirate Lukos of Magnemea was leant against one wall, a shoulder masking one corner of an old map of the kingdom and his face half cast in shadow from the large cabinet of books that he stood beside. He appeared no difference in attire or temper than he had the last time the princess had seen him but Persephone was not concerned. The more he looked like a rough and ragged pirate the more the Senate would believe that he had in fact been hired by Elias for violent pirate antics. So long as he came across as cognitively compos, there was little Persephone had to fear. She had simply wished to see him and assure herself of his presence before she had humiliated herself before the Senate announcing his attendance as a lie.

She offered the pirate a nod of her head in respect for his choice in holding to their agreement.

"No-one knows he is here?" Persephone asked Lord Votis, seeking reassurance that the Stravos clan were not being permitted even the few minutes they would gain in pulling a plan together.

"No, You Highness..." The Master informed her with a dip of his head. "I had servants fetch the man only an hour ago and brought here through the servants’ entrance." He gestured to a door that led away from the Senate room and out into a small, back courtyard and then into the streets of the capitol. "No-one saw us arrive, and Lord Iason has been with us since his arrival."

Persephone wondered momentarily at the discussions to be had between her future husband and the captain of the Aceton but put it to one side. Provided neither men were dying or bleeding - which clearly, they were not - she did not need to concern herself with any other thoughts on this day.

Unsure how to proceed with regards to Captain Lukos - any words she had felt contrived or insignificant for such a moment in her kingdom's history; if she thanked him or only sounded patronising, to speak with confidence that she was glad he was there sounded like she doubted he would have been and might have offended his honour. Instead she simply went with efficient information, hoping that a man used to his time being precious would appreciate such a tact.

"A servant will be sent to fetch you for your testament as soon as I announce it, Captain Lukos." She told the man. "Lord Votis will be with me and my father, the King, but Lord Aimias will stay with you until that point." She swallowed. "He will instruct you in the best way to communicate what it is you are here to say and will then guide you through the oath you are to make to Athena at the front of the Senate hall. You'll make said oath of truth before the rest of the nobility and then present your evidence. There may be people who wish to question you but that will all happen at the trial. Your testament is not under question at this time - it only needs to be sufficient to convince the King that the allegation is legitimate. Not that Elias actually committed the crime. You will simple arrive, vow, offer your testimony and once the King has ascertained what he needs to, you will be escorted out by Aimias. After that, you are free to go where you will. If all goes to plan there will be a trial in the next few weeks. I will send a messenger in a few days when all steps have been put in place for the legal change in the Stravos lands and I am able to uphold my end of our agreement - I’ll include information regarding the trial with it. Lord Aimias is entirely informed on such matters and you may ask him anything you like."

Taking a step back and turning towards the door, Persephone excused herself, trading one Chief Advisor for another, at her side.

"I must convene the Senate." She offered by way of an obvious excuse for her departure and then headed straight back out into the corridor.

"All will be well, my princess..." Lord Votis commented to her as she paused in her step - perhaps from nervousness, perhaps from relief that her key witness had indeed held true and turned up.

"I wish to believe you, Lord Votis, but I fear such eventualities are in the hands of the Gods now." Persephone responded as they started back around the Senate hall, their destination its main entrance, where her fiancé waited.

"Then we are in good standing, Princess, for I have prayed to them every day for a month." Lord Votis encouraged her.

"Have such limited faith in me, Lord Votis, that such prayers are required?" Persephone quipped back, her nerves getting the better of her.

"Such prayers are required to have the person I have the most faith in sit on the throne of my kingdom, Your Highness."

The smart and quick response ensured that Persephone held a small smile on her face as she rounded the final curve in the corridor to find the crowd of noble men had grown in number, Lord Iason among them. Persephone would wonder in future years if Votis had timed such a comment for directly that purpose and - given his cunning - she was highly suspicious that it was the case.

Joining Lord Iason and taking his hand momentarily - she was encouraged by a light squeezing of his fingers around her own, where no-one could see, Persephone turned to square her shoulders against the main doors of bronze that led into the main Senate Hall. Looking up she read the inscription above the entryway as she did every time; the words echoing inside her head.

Let words and hearts be true. For it is in Athenia's future that we thrive."

Swallowing, Persephone stepped forwards, Iason naturally taking a place to her left and a step back, while Lord Votis mirrored her on the other side.

The Senate Hall was huge and circular with staggered steps leading all the way to the central dais. That dais was where Persephone headed, knowing that it was her place in that moment to be looked down upon by the eyes of the nobility and praying that her spine would not crack under the pressure of so many gazes. Her father was already seated in his throne, supported on a raised platform in the wall facing the circular audience. It was the chair beside him that Persephone would take until it was her role in the proceedings. It was the throne of the Queen but one that she had sat in many times before after assuming her mother's responsibilities in support of her father. The significance of that particular seat seemed to echo all the stronger on this day.

The hall, which sported a large number of the nobility already - minus those still speaking with each other outside - had been full of chatter and noise when she had entered - even with the presence of her father in attendance. Upon her entry, however, the prattle died down to a hush whisper that permeated the air.

With her chiton in hand, Persephone descended the steps of the Senate Hall, her attention forwards and her posture defiant against any verbalised word or internal thought that might be cast her way and, after what felt like an age, she reached the central, circular space at ground level where any speaker was required to stand in order to address the upper classes of Athenian society. The scribes were already in place at their desks to one side, their quills, ink and parchment at the ready. Acknowledging their presence with a smile and nod - her father had always taught her that it paid to make friends with the writers of their history - the princess then turned to mount up the steps towards the second empty throne.

Lord Iason, as was arranged, stood on the ascending steps on one side of the platform, Lord Votis on the other, as if they were guards protecting the sanctity of the two within their enthroned places.

Ensuring that her gown was settled, her Athenian colours bold and daring, Persephone sat in her mother's seat, one hand on each arm and her legs together, knees kissing one another beneath her shirts and her back straight against the back of the chair. She did not allow the golden monstrosity of a piece of furniture support her posture or seat. Instead, she sat just an inch forward, her own pride keeping her upright. She would not slouch. She would not loosen.

She would not yield.

Daniil had been up since the twilight hour that proceeded the dawn. Her mind was a mass of jumbled thoughts she lifted her thumb to her mouth and began to chew on her nail.

In a different time and place things would have been different. She would have been in her uncle's shoes. Life would be the total opposite of what it is now. She chewed off a bit of her nail and then spit it across the room in a mild show of irritation. Nothing to be done about it now. From this day forward you need not ever think about it. It was not your fault and you know that so be a good Daughter of Marikas and support your Uncle Rafail to the best of your ability. she thought as she tossed off the light coverlet and slid out of the bed.

Hearing that Daniil was awake a servant quickly got up and moved to begin the perpetrations for the day. A tub was prepared for her, the room smelling of lavender, which Daniil insisted be placed in all her baths. It was said to be calming and she enjoyed that and she had a feeling that today she would need it a good deal. I will also likely be able to see friends and visit. she thought and that made her laugh softly.

Melissa? I will be wearing the chiton of pale yellow today." she told one of the servants and she watched under her eyelids as the young girl moved off to find the gown an matching items like ribbons for her hair and jewelry and bring it back into the room. Then that same servant ran out of the room to see that she had food and refreshment to break her fast.

Her breakfast was pancakes, a food that she enjoyed, cheese, and watered down wine. She was amused that the food chosen for the breaking of the fast was her favorite and her uncle's least favorite. Once she was done it was time to make her up and do her hair, which was plaited with ribbons intertwined in her hair. Melissa was just putting on the finishing touches as her mother, Sera, came into the room trailed by her sister Elena.

"Are we ready to join the others? Daniil are you finished? her voice was gentle and there was no sign of upset. Daniil was about to say something when Melissa placed a necklace on her neck that placed a yellow topaz like gem just above her cleavage. Matching earnings are put in her ears and a plain gold blacelet is placed on her right wrist. Then he sandals were placed on her feet and she looked at her mother and sister. "Now I am, yes."

Her mother nodded and smiled at her youngest daughter. Good choice of colors for toady. Sera said praising Daniil for her choices. Daniil blushed and then got to her feet. She smoothed out any wrinkles and then dropped in line as Sera led them down to where the menfolk gathered.

She greeted Pavlos with a nod of her head and a soft "Good morning Father. Pavlos gave his youngest a rae smile showing his approval of both her manner and her dress. Daniil blushes softly and then glances over at her Grandfather, She greeted him with a respectful bow and then dropped in to wait for Rafail, who was late.

Ahh yes my Uncle the Peacock. she thought amused. When Rafail does appear she takes note that he is dressed in blue and she could not think anything else then he looked good in it. She did not miss the slight that he paid her own father by ignoring him., but it was not her place to say or show any reaction to that, so she did not. She had to hide the smile that wanted to appear at her grandfather's chastisement of the man, and she did. After telling Rafi to get in the carriage, Pranos gave similar orders for the ladies an all of them complied without a word.

The ride was quiet, with everyone dealing with their own thoughts and feelings.

When the carriage came to a stop, the ladies got ready to depart. Daniil would be the last to do so as she was the youngest. She then moved off to walk around with her mother an sister wearing a genuine smile.