The Lord Mikaelidas was not unused to the attention his name drew. Nor the looks that were worn by all the men of the family, in differing ways. He stood slightly taller than his brother, was broader across the shoulders and lean through the hips: a swordsman’s build. They shared the same dark hair though, and enough similarities of feature that people would pick them out as siblings in an instant. The older though - while no less aware of his blessings- was not so brash as his brother in acknowledging them. He had grown adept at spotting those women who would throw themselves at him, and mostly Achilleas kept his nose clean. There was no room in his life for scandal and gossip caused by ill thought through assignations with indscreet courtiers. He was less on guard for it here in his own home though, and there was no sign of awareness in the very blue eyes of just how Brieses was engineering her encounters with him.

In fact,when the girl seemed to startle at his words, Achilleas had half-leant forward, afraid she was going to drop the oversized ewer that she clutched. But she did not, and so he sat back again, blinking back the surprise at the rather direct answer his question called forth. It was true enough, he supposed, but something in the way she spoke it made him wonder if the curtsy and the demure manner in which she spoke was authentic.

“ I would not have expected to be disturbed for such a task” he said, with a nod towards the plant. “ Or if it were absolutely necessary a knock on the door before just showing yourself in. Would you enter my father’s chambers so?”

He was genuinely curious, unable to imagine Irakles taking kindly to such an intrusion.She must be new.And now he could see her better, the light from the window hitting her just so, Achilleas thought he would have remembered her, afterall.

“I do not think I have seen you here before” he observed, “ So perhaps you are still learning. Take it from me, you do not want to barge in to my father’s study as you just walked in here”

It was a kindness, he considered, to warn her. She had a sweet face and he would not care to see it tear-stained when such an error was easily preventable. The Lord looked at her a moment longer, and then as if realising he had gifted her - a servant- with more of his attention than was strictly necessary, he cleared his throat and looked back at his work, paying her no further heed.

There was a sense of dismay as he remembered the agreement he had been so thoroughly in disagreement with, and Achilleas wondered if he even had the willpower to read through the rest of the scroll, nonsense as it was.

Achilleas laughed lightly at the girl’s simple answer. She would have to learn to think if she expected to last long in her role here, but he saw no need to labour the point that such carelessness would have cost her greatly if it had been his father’s study rather than his own. It was as she flushed and looked away that he realised he had let his gaze linger overlong, and was making her uncomfortable.

Though he had ostensibly looked back to his work, it was hard to just ignore her presence, and Achilleas’ eyes slid sideways to the girl as she turned to resume her obviously very important task of watering the plant that sat beneath the window. He frowned at her struggling with the weight of the pitcher and for a moment considered taking it from her, but in the end he did not, returning his focus to the papers before him and beginning to scrawl some amendments on the Acharist agreement before her tremulous voice interrupted him, again.

The lord lifted his gaze toward where she stood by the door - she had slipped over there stealthily enough - and he frowned when he caught her expression, and set the stylus down.
“ Dismissed? I hardly think it's worthy of such retribution do you?” He smiled, an attempt to set her at ease, and wondered if he had been too harsh that she would assume such a thing. “ Such a decision would not be made by me anyway, and if it makes you feel better, I was not planning on saying anything about this”

He waved absently at the space between them. In truth, he probably would not have even thought on it again, but seeing how worried he had made her, he thought he must have come on a little strong. Achilleas had never been one content to upset others - it was one of his greatest flaws in his father’s eyes he knew. Soft hearted the man said, as if it were an insult. He did not shy from conflict, far from it. He did not bear fools gladly in his capacity as a commander, and would take his men to task if it were required,but neither was he cruel, and he would spare people unnecessary hurt where he could.

Maybe that was why he continued, even after disavowing the girl of her overdramatic notion. Or it could have been just an excuse to further put off the troublesome document he knew awaited his attention. Either way, he spoke the words that would move them beyond complete indifference.

“What is your name?”

The smile the man wore widened a little to see the girl relax some, Achilleas glad to have put her mind at rest. She had a pretty smile.. He raised his eyebrows at her reply, that finger pressed against her lips promising silence and wondered why he was sending away a pretty girl in favour of doing paperwork. Perhaps he was as boring as people thought. The question that delayed her was a protest at his own diligence then.

The heavy pitcher set at her feet, Achilleas could appreciate more the slender curves that had been disrupted by her hold upon it, and also could stop worrying that she were about to up-end it all over the floor. He looked upon her expectantly, wanting a name to set to the face he had decided was probably more than passable.

Brieses.

“Of Maliania?” he echoed, thinking of the town that sat upon the mouth of the river. There was a nod of recognition, and Achilleas noted the way she pulled herself up as she spoke of her Mother’s role as a Priestess. Was it pride or defensiveness? He knew of course, the blessings of the goddess that were bestowed on those of a pieous nature, but one could hardly judge the work of those in service of Aphrodite. Still, he noted the girl did not mention her father at all. “ She must miss you” was all he said, as he wondered how the girl had ended up in Vasiliadon and in his father’s house. Perhaps he might ask Emilios later where she had come from, for he did not doubt that his brother would have noted the arrival of a young and attractive woman onto his very doorstep. For some reason, the thought made him frown a little, and as such, Achilleas was almost caught off guard by the girl’s bold question in return. A stark contrast to the fearfulness of before, she spoke his name as if she had some claim to it upon her lips.

“Yes” he confirmed, mildly amused “ that is me”. He watched Briseis a moment, and then, because he had already opened the door to conversation and was rather enjoying the diversion as it turned out, he continued. “ What would you know? Surely whomever hired you let you know who you would be working for?” Surely you would already know was the implication. The Mikaelidas family were not some reclusive House on the edges of society after all. They were the ruling House of Taengea, and Achilleas found it hard to believe anyone being taken into their employ would not have been aware of each and every member of the household.

Regardless , he indulged her. “ You know my father of course. My brother too?”

He felt almost as if he had won something with each smile he coaxed forth, found himself wondering how else he might do so, for it were far more rewarding that his battles with the documents before him. He tried to imagine what it might have been like for her to come to Vasiliadon, to leave what she knew behind, and found that he could not, it was so far outside his own world. Achilleas’ path through life had been mapped out for him before he was even born, and it had been made abundantly clear to him at every step that it was not his choice to divert from it. It would take some courage, he thought to set out as this girl must have done.

“And so here you are. I hope you find some pleasure in your work then.” He did not say that she had fallen on her feet in serving his family, he did not think he needed to. The name Mikaelidas was not one to be overlooked and he was sure it would set her in good stead. Assuming she did not stumble unwittingly into his father’s study and see herself out of a position.

Achilleas gave a nod to confirm her observation, “ You are right. My home is in Euttica. I come to the capital often enough for the meetings of the Senate though.”

It was not too far a journey in from the small sleepy province that was the seat of his barony, and Achilleas tended to split his time between there and Vasiliadon when he was not called further abroad by his command. When he was not on campaign, he tended to feel guilty if he stayed away from Euttica too long. His mother, having moved out there when Irakles had moved Meena in, did not often leave, and he knew she must feel isolated. So her eldest would at least try and keep her company when he could.

Realising he had let his thoughts wander, and that still he tarried with this honey coloured girl, the Lord cleared his throat and made a point of glancing briefly back at the papers he had been working through.

“Do not let me keep you from your tasks, Briseis” he said. It was a dismissal of sorts, though gently done and Achilleas tried out her name upon his tongue, almost amused that he now knew it. And then, with a small smile reserved for himself, he bent his head to his work again, not looking back to the girl.

***

He saw her more after that. Whether his awareness of her had heightened or if she actually was just talented at popping up everywhere he was, Achilleas caught himself watching her more than once. Briseis of Maliania. And he was not so obtuse so as not to notice her eyes sought him out often enough, a fact that brought the faintest of smirks to his lips each time he caught her. And every so often, if they were alone, he would strike up conversation. A little here and there.

It was one such occasion, he had just arrived from Euttica, hot and dusty from the ride. She brought water and he had accepted it from her gladly, drinking long before his gaze had raked over her like he was still thirsting. The elder son of Irakles was careful in who he took to his bed. He had not time for those who make demands of him, and would not risk the fallout of dallying with courtiers.But Briseis was not of a name that he could not afford to upset, nor did he imagine she would dare ask of him anything beyond his attention. And he could give her that, when he had it to spare.

“You will attend me tonight, Briseis? In my rooms” Somewhere between a question and an order, Achilleas let the words hover between them, waiting for some sign or word of acquiescence before he strode away, keen to be rid of the road dirt before his meetings later that day. It was not done with ceremony or even with any particular forethought, but that was precisely why it suited him. Why she might suit him, he thought, as he made his way to his chambers to get cleaned up.

He had spent much of the afternoon wondering if she would come to him or not, finding his thoughts turning toward her often even as he tried to focus on the matters being tabled at the Senate. That she was drawn to him was not even a question he asked himself - it did not occur to him to doubt it - but Achilleas did wonder if she were brave enough to respond to his summons. Though perhaps it would take more courage to refuse it?

Still, by the time he had returned to the archontiko, his curiosity as to whether Briseis would appear in his chambers had not dwindled, and the Lord found himself almost eager to retire for the evening. He was never one to linger in the company of Meena or her daughters anyway, but found an excuse to take his leave particularly early that day, bidding his father good night before drawing back to the rooms that were kept for his use alone when he was in the city.

Within, Achilleas half studied a text on the strange architecture of Egypt, an interest kindled when he spent some time in the desert lands some years ago. He wasn’t really absorbing it though, just passing the time, sipping at a cup of watered wine as he awaited his real distraction for the evening. He had liked how surprised she had looked when he had made his request earlier that day, how that pouty mouth had fallen open for a moment before she realised and composed herself. The thought made him smile, and he was still wearing the expression- almost a smirk- when there was tap upon his door.

Blue eyes lifted to the portal even as the Lord called out for his visitor to enter, and he watched Briseis come in, brows raising in surprise as she stood and asked her question.

What was his will indeed

“ Come here Briseis” was the reply, and Achilleas set down the book, patted the spot beside him on the plush klismos he sat upon. And assuming she did as she was bid, the Lord went on. “ You are done with your duties for the day?” Whatever his own desires might be, Achilleas would not see her get in trouble because of him. He looked at her questioningly.
“ Did you tell anyone you were coming to me?” The Lord was equally keen to keep himself free from reproach, though he could hardly see a problem if he was discreet.

Here he fixed the girl with a rather intense look, one that left little to interpret in the words that followed. “ I would know you, Briseis of Maliania” Leaning forward a little, Achilleas raised his hand to her face, caught a tendril of that wheaten blonde hair and smoothed it behind her ear. “ If you would like that?” The brow that arched suggested he already knew the answer, and yet he gave space for her to respond anyway. He did not think her so innocent that she did not comprehend the reason for her summons, but the Lord would be certain. Servant or no, Achilleas would not risk tarnishing his reputation with rumours of ill conduct toward her. He let his hand slide down the side of her neck before falling away to lie across the back of the seat, close enough for her to feel his warmth but not touching again, not until she had invited it.

She was nervous, and Achilleas supposed he could not blame her in that. Once he had established the fundamentals: that she was not shirking her work, and had not told anyone of this meeting, he did what he could to set her mind at rest, speaking plainly and letting her come to him.

And she did.

He watched her, a gentle smile curving at the edges of his mouth as she took his hand and pressed it to her lips. There were calluses on his fingers that spoke to a familiarity with spear and sword: even in times of peace, Achilleas rarely went a day without sparring. Still his skin was warm, and so were his eyes, dancing with something akin to amusement at her sudden boldness.

When she hesitated, he had thought her shyness returning, and opened his mouth to give her what encouragement she needed, only to stop,his expression slackening as Briseis first loosed the tumble of golden waves from the long rope of a plait he was used to seeing her with, and then shrugged the fabric of her chiton away, laying bare the softly golden skin beneath. Not..shy then.

There was a huff of breath and a slow smile, Achilleas meeting the girl’s gaze as she asked her question, and in answer, he reached for her again, wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and set the other at her waist, drawing her onto his lap where he let his fingers feather over her collarbone, sweeping aside that fall of hair with a chuckle as he tried not to fall into the headiness that came with her words. There was no denying the certain sort of thrill that came with hearing her say them.

“All of this” he replied, letting the backs of his fingers skirt the slight swell of her breast, down across her ribcage until his hand settled at her waist and he splayed out his fingers. Achilleas glanced down, she was so petite that his hands seemed almost to swamp her, her skin soft and smooth beneath his touch. His grip tightened around her the curve on her hips and he pulled her against him “ I would have all of this, Briseis.” He tilted his head to the side, smiling at the pout that her mouth seemed to settle into as it’s fallback and then he was claiming the kiss he thought she had been about to give him before, assured and demanding.

She would be his then, this golden girl of Maliania, and Achilleas left her in no doubt of his desires, lifting her as easily as if she were a strawdoll as he carried her through into his bed chamber, letting his weight fall atop her, press her into sheets below. The fabric was fine, softer than she could have imagined, but there was little time for Briseis to dwell upon the fact that she was in his room, upon his bed, because he was shucking the chiton down from her hips, laying her out before him like a treasure that was his for the taking. Which, in Achilleas eyes, she was.

Drawing back, he wasted no time in stripping off his own clothes, not unaware of the perfectly cut musculature that came of hard training, and resisting the urge to flex as he watched her face, watching him, an almost arrogant lift of his brow as he gazed down upon the girl in his bed.

Achilleas of Mikaelidas made love following the same rules he used as he approached everything in life. Efficiently and goal orientated. Not unskilled, there nevertheless was little tenderness in his touches, each designed to draw forth the desired reaction before he had moved onto his next intended conquest, as if he were mapping the course of every caress against some invisible charter he had laid out. And when he took her, it was with that same precision and focus, as if even then, in what should have been the grips of passion, he was holding himself back, controlling everything.

When he was done, rolling off her to sprawl on the bed at her side, there was little sense of intimacy. He shot her a smile, like he might have done when she poured him wine at dinner, and toyed idly with the lengths of her hair, before dropping an order -for it so blatantly was an order- into the space between them. “ You will see a physician to take care of things. I don’t want any bastards coming of this arrangement, Briseis, You understand?”