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She was nervous on her wedding day, which was entirely expected, however she would wager it was for different reasons than most new brides. Where they would worry about their husband’s treatment of them and sharing his bed for the first time, she was already well aware of it as the swell of her stomach showed. No, Olympia was nervous for the position she was taking on, and the many people who seemed to want to kill those she loved for it. Zenon’s funeral was only days gone, and in other circumstances they would have waited far longer out of propriety, but when she carried the heir to the throne that had recently been diminished, there was little time to wait.
Her mother had quickly pulled together a wardrobe for her, a simple white chiton tied to allow for her ever growing belly, and a red veil embroidered on the edges with yellow and gold for luck had been pulled seemingly from thin air. It wasn’t the grand affair that they had expected, but then again the circumstances were hardly expected to begin with. Evelli helped her tie up her sandals, and between mother, daughter, and Desma the three of them managed to affix the diamond studded band in her mess of dark curls, pulled up and away from her face for the occasion.
Olympia longed for the company of her sisters, but even they were to be kept in the dark until the time that Stephanos chose to announce it. There was no need for a large public affair when the Creed would only be more likely to try to sabotage and destroy them there. No, the secret must be kept and the ceremony performed without pomp to be respectful of the dead while preserving the interests of the living. She was relieved when the carriage arrived, leaving her childhood bedroom without a second glance, sitting beside her mother and father, Evelli squeezing her daughters hand reassuringly every few meters while Giorgios kept in silent pondering. Perhaps they would all celebrate properly when her son was born.
Their arrival at the palace was met with little occasion as they were shepherded inside to wait for the King and his representatives. Pia kept a hand on her bump protectively, leaning against her mother and trying to keep her spirits from fading.
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She was nervous on her wedding day, which was entirely expected, however she would wager it was for different reasons than most new brides. Where they would worry about their husband’s treatment of them and sharing his bed for the first time, she was already well aware of it as the swell of her stomach showed. No, Olympia was nervous for the position she was taking on, and the many people who seemed to want to kill those she loved for it. Zenon’s funeral was only days gone, and in other circumstances they would have waited far longer out of propriety, but when she carried the heir to the throne that had recently been diminished, there was little time to wait.
Her mother had quickly pulled together a wardrobe for her, a simple white chiton tied to allow for her ever growing belly, and a red veil embroidered on the edges with yellow and gold for luck had been pulled seemingly from thin air. It wasn’t the grand affair that they had expected, but then again the circumstances were hardly expected to begin with. Evelli helped her tie up her sandals, and between mother, daughter, and Desma the three of them managed to affix the diamond studded band in her mess of dark curls, pulled up and away from her face for the occasion.
Olympia longed for the company of her sisters, but even they were to be kept in the dark until the time that Stephanos chose to announce it. There was no need for a large public affair when the Creed would only be more likely to try to sabotage and destroy them there. No, the secret must be kept and the ceremony performed without pomp to be respectful of the dead while preserving the interests of the living. She was relieved when the carriage arrived, leaving her childhood bedroom without a second glance, sitting beside her mother and father, Evelli squeezing her daughters hand reassuringly every few meters while Giorgios kept in silent pondering. Perhaps they would all celebrate properly when her son was born.
Their arrival at the palace was met with little occasion as they were shepherded inside to wait for the King and his representatives. Pia kept a hand on her bump protectively, leaning against her mother and trying to keep her spirits from fading.
She was nervous on her wedding day, which was entirely expected, however she would wager it was for different reasons than most new brides. Where they would worry about their husband’s treatment of them and sharing his bed for the first time, she was already well aware of it as the swell of her stomach showed. No, Olympia was nervous for the position she was taking on, and the many people who seemed to want to kill those she loved for it. Zenon’s funeral was only days gone, and in other circumstances they would have waited far longer out of propriety, but when she carried the heir to the throne that had recently been diminished, there was little time to wait.
Her mother had quickly pulled together a wardrobe for her, a simple white chiton tied to allow for her ever growing belly, and a red veil embroidered on the edges with yellow and gold for luck had been pulled seemingly from thin air. It wasn’t the grand affair that they had expected, but then again the circumstances were hardly expected to begin with. Evelli helped her tie up her sandals, and between mother, daughter, and Desma the three of them managed to affix the diamond studded band in her mess of dark curls, pulled up and away from her face for the occasion.
Olympia longed for the company of her sisters, but even they were to be kept in the dark until the time that Stephanos chose to announce it. There was no need for a large public affair when the Creed would only be more likely to try to sabotage and destroy them there. No, the secret must be kept and the ceremony performed without pomp to be respectful of the dead while preserving the interests of the living. She was relieved when the carriage arrived, leaving her childhood bedroom without a second glance, sitting beside her mother and father, Evelli squeezing her daughters hand reassuringly every few meters while Giorgios kept in silent pondering. Perhaps they would all celebrate properly when her son was born.
Their arrival at the palace was met with little occasion as they were shepherded inside to wait for the King and his representatives. Pia kept a hand on her bump protectively, leaning against her mother and trying to keep her spirits from fading.
"You look very nice Olympia..." The words were murmured in a low tone of authority, as Fotios of Leventi stepped into the room.
The event was being kept secretive and hidden from public view. It was on this point that Fotios had encouraged Georgios to insist. It would, most definitely, put the future Queen and unborn heir of the Mikaelidas line into unnecessary dangers were the matrimony held in a public forum and with the pomp and circumstance that normally accompanied such festivities.
Being the head of his House, however, Fotios was of course required to attend, alongside his brother, sister-in-law and niece.
"I feel the new king will be happy with his choice of bride." He continued with a knowing smile and the dropping of his gaze to her belly. His gaze lifted back to his niece's and his thoughts turned murky behind his irises. He had not known of the child kept within the girl for the last few months. Had he been aware his plans may have been different. And yet, he was not one to change objectives on a pin and redirect his plans clumsily. His was a long game to be played. And he would not let the silly whims of a young girl change his mind.
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"You look very nice Olympia..." The words were murmured in a low tone of authority, as Fotios of Leventi stepped into the room.
The event was being kept secretive and hidden from public view. It was on this point that Fotios had encouraged Georgios to insist. It would, most definitely, put the future Queen and unborn heir of the Mikaelidas line into unnecessary dangers were the matrimony held in a public forum and with the pomp and circumstance that normally accompanied such festivities.
Being the head of his House, however, Fotios was of course required to attend, alongside his brother, sister-in-law and niece.
"I feel the new king will be happy with his choice of bride." He continued with a knowing smile and the dropping of his gaze to her belly. His gaze lifted back to his niece's and his thoughts turned murky behind his irises. He had not known of the child kept within the girl for the last few months. Had he been aware his plans may have been different. And yet, he was not one to change objectives on a pin and redirect his plans clumsily. His was a long game to be played. And he would not let the silly whims of a young girl change his mind.
"You look very nice Olympia..." The words were murmured in a low tone of authority, as Fotios of Leventi stepped into the room.
The event was being kept secretive and hidden from public view. It was on this point that Fotios had encouraged Georgios to insist. It would, most definitely, put the future Queen and unborn heir of the Mikaelidas line into unnecessary dangers were the matrimony held in a public forum and with the pomp and circumstance that normally accompanied such festivities.
Being the head of his House, however, Fotios was of course required to attend, alongside his brother, sister-in-law and niece.
"I feel the new king will be happy with his choice of bride." He continued with a knowing smile and the dropping of his gaze to her belly. His gaze lifted back to his niece's and his thoughts turned murky behind his irises. He had not known of the child kept within the girl for the last few months. Had he been aware his plans may have been different. And yet, he was not one to change objectives on a pin and redirect his plans clumsily. His was a long game to be played. And he would not let the silly whims of a young girl change his mind.
Elise stood on the balcony, watching the carriage’s progress through the streets. She would turn and give him constant reports with the result that he didn’t get up from where he sat in her chambers. A tight, ball of anxiety sat in the center of his chest and he found himself wanting to pace. He had been doing exactly that but his mother had taken him gently by the arm and placed him in a chair by the door like she’d done when he was a child with too much energy.
“They’re here!” she fluttered away from the balcony and back into the room. He glanced up at her but his eyes slid away again. One by one his freedoms were slipping away. It was an odd feeling to want something so badly while at the same time being completely repelled by it. With a sigh, he stood, waiting for his mother to open the door and lead the way.
Though her husband had died, and her eldest son was still missing, she seemed unflappably happy for the wedding. She’d been obsessing since the gravesite and he had a niggling suspicion that she might not have been quite as in love with his father as he’d always imagined her to be. To be sure she was sad; he caught her moping quite a few times, but she came alive whenever she saw him or spoke about Olympia and the baby.
He followed her at a subdued pace, watching the pale pink fabric of her gown flutter as she walked. His own chiton was white and crisp; a color he didn’t feel like wearing. For the past few days he’d been wearing blues or reds. This felt too bright, too clean.
“Come on, Stephanos,” Elise turned to beam at him, reaching for his arm and wrapping her hands around it once he reached for her. “Look at her. She’s perfect. Good on you son. I’ve had doubts in the past but she’s a wonderful girl. You’ll be happy. Oh, Olympia! My love!” They’d been descending the stairs and she hadn’t given him time to get in a word before reaching the bottom. From there, she’d released him and flown to her new daughter in law, wrapping her up in soft arms, kissing her enthusiastically on the temple.
He watched with a little impatience but he wouldn’t stop her. It was comfortingly familiar to have her flitting about, worrying over things that didn’t matter and being warm and inviting. After a moment, he nodded to her parents, then Fotios before finally stepping forward to collect Pia from his mother.
He took her by the hand, looking down at her without hiding his unease. Panic nearly took hold as he led them through the palace, back up the stairs, and into the throne room. A priest stood waiting, surrounded by three priestesses in gowns of ivory. An alter to Hera had been erected and incense filled the room with pungent perfume.
The priest bowed and ushered them forward. With a last glance down at her, he moved forward. He was squeezing her hand tightly, not wanting to hold it and not wanting to let go. This was want needed to happen and he had already decided that Pia would be a good wife; she’d already proven several times that she could be trusted. It was mostly that he didn’t want to get married at all but, as his father and Zacharias had been telling him for years, being king wasn’t about what one wanted; it was about doing what one must.
They stood in front of the priest and he looked nowhere else but her face through the whole of it. Burning branches of herbs floated around them, held by the long, pale arms of the priestesses as they chanted. The sound droned in a soothing cadence behind the priest’s own incantations as he called on the goddess to bless them.
At last the ceremony was over but not the wedding. There was still the small feast for them all and then? He and Pia would take up together the way they’d been doing for months. It just seemed different now. Final. And more than that, it meant something now, whereas before, it had meant nothing at all.
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Elise stood on the balcony, watching the carriage’s progress through the streets. She would turn and give him constant reports with the result that he didn’t get up from where he sat in her chambers. A tight, ball of anxiety sat in the center of his chest and he found himself wanting to pace. He had been doing exactly that but his mother had taken him gently by the arm and placed him in a chair by the door like she’d done when he was a child with too much energy.
“They’re here!” she fluttered away from the balcony and back into the room. He glanced up at her but his eyes slid away again. One by one his freedoms were slipping away. It was an odd feeling to want something so badly while at the same time being completely repelled by it. With a sigh, he stood, waiting for his mother to open the door and lead the way.
Though her husband had died, and her eldest son was still missing, she seemed unflappably happy for the wedding. She’d been obsessing since the gravesite and he had a niggling suspicion that she might not have been quite as in love with his father as he’d always imagined her to be. To be sure she was sad; he caught her moping quite a few times, but she came alive whenever she saw him or spoke about Olympia and the baby.
He followed her at a subdued pace, watching the pale pink fabric of her gown flutter as she walked. His own chiton was white and crisp; a color he didn’t feel like wearing. For the past few days he’d been wearing blues or reds. This felt too bright, too clean.
“Come on, Stephanos,” Elise turned to beam at him, reaching for his arm and wrapping her hands around it once he reached for her. “Look at her. She’s perfect. Good on you son. I’ve had doubts in the past but she’s a wonderful girl. You’ll be happy. Oh, Olympia! My love!” They’d been descending the stairs and she hadn’t given him time to get in a word before reaching the bottom. From there, she’d released him and flown to her new daughter in law, wrapping her up in soft arms, kissing her enthusiastically on the temple.
He watched with a little impatience but he wouldn’t stop her. It was comfortingly familiar to have her flitting about, worrying over things that didn’t matter and being warm and inviting. After a moment, he nodded to her parents, then Fotios before finally stepping forward to collect Pia from his mother.
He took her by the hand, looking down at her without hiding his unease. Panic nearly took hold as he led them through the palace, back up the stairs, and into the throne room. A priest stood waiting, surrounded by three priestesses in gowns of ivory. An alter to Hera had been erected and incense filled the room with pungent perfume.
The priest bowed and ushered them forward. With a last glance down at her, he moved forward. He was squeezing her hand tightly, not wanting to hold it and not wanting to let go. This was want needed to happen and he had already decided that Pia would be a good wife; she’d already proven several times that she could be trusted. It was mostly that he didn’t want to get married at all but, as his father and Zacharias had been telling him for years, being king wasn’t about what one wanted; it was about doing what one must.
They stood in front of the priest and he looked nowhere else but her face through the whole of it. Burning branches of herbs floated around them, held by the long, pale arms of the priestesses as they chanted. The sound droned in a soothing cadence behind the priest’s own incantations as he called on the goddess to bless them.
At last the ceremony was over but not the wedding. There was still the small feast for them all and then? He and Pia would take up together the way they’d been doing for months. It just seemed different now. Final. And more than that, it meant something now, whereas before, it had meant nothing at all.
Elise stood on the balcony, watching the carriage’s progress through the streets. She would turn and give him constant reports with the result that he didn’t get up from where he sat in her chambers. A tight, ball of anxiety sat in the center of his chest and he found himself wanting to pace. He had been doing exactly that but his mother had taken him gently by the arm and placed him in a chair by the door like she’d done when he was a child with too much energy.
“They’re here!” she fluttered away from the balcony and back into the room. He glanced up at her but his eyes slid away again. One by one his freedoms were slipping away. It was an odd feeling to want something so badly while at the same time being completely repelled by it. With a sigh, he stood, waiting for his mother to open the door and lead the way.
Though her husband had died, and her eldest son was still missing, she seemed unflappably happy for the wedding. She’d been obsessing since the gravesite and he had a niggling suspicion that she might not have been quite as in love with his father as he’d always imagined her to be. To be sure she was sad; he caught her moping quite a few times, but she came alive whenever she saw him or spoke about Olympia and the baby.
He followed her at a subdued pace, watching the pale pink fabric of her gown flutter as she walked. His own chiton was white and crisp; a color he didn’t feel like wearing. For the past few days he’d been wearing blues or reds. This felt too bright, too clean.
“Come on, Stephanos,” Elise turned to beam at him, reaching for his arm and wrapping her hands around it once he reached for her. “Look at her. She’s perfect. Good on you son. I’ve had doubts in the past but she’s a wonderful girl. You’ll be happy. Oh, Olympia! My love!” They’d been descending the stairs and she hadn’t given him time to get in a word before reaching the bottom. From there, she’d released him and flown to her new daughter in law, wrapping her up in soft arms, kissing her enthusiastically on the temple.
He watched with a little impatience but he wouldn’t stop her. It was comfortingly familiar to have her flitting about, worrying over things that didn’t matter and being warm and inviting. After a moment, he nodded to her parents, then Fotios before finally stepping forward to collect Pia from his mother.
He took her by the hand, looking down at her without hiding his unease. Panic nearly took hold as he led them through the palace, back up the stairs, and into the throne room. A priest stood waiting, surrounded by three priestesses in gowns of ivory. An alter to Hera had been erected and incense filled the room with pungent perfume.
The priest bowed and ushered them forward. With a last glance down at her, he moved forward. He was squeezing her hand tightly, not wanting to hold it and not wanting to let go. This was want needed to happen and he had already decided that Pia would be a good wife; she’d already proven several times that she could be trusted. It was mostly that he didn’t want to get married at all but, as his father and Zacharias had been telling him for years, being king wasn’t about what one wanted; it was about doing what one must.
They stood in front of the priest and he looked nowhere else but her face through the whole of it. Burning branches of herbs floated around them, held by the long, pale arms of the priestesses as they chanted. The sound droned in a soothing cadence behind the priest’s own incantations as he called on the goddess to bless them.
At last the ceremony was over but not the wedding. There was still the small feast for them all and then? He and Pia would take up together the way they’d been doing for months. It just seemed different now. Final. And more than that, it meant something now, whereas before, it had meant nothing at all.
Olympia felt slightly faint as they waited, suddenly terrified to tie herself to the crown in such a permanent way. It had been a dream she'd never expected to come true and now that she was living it the amount of danger involved felt like a nightmare she didn't know how to wake from. It was her mother's grip that kept her breathing steady instead of hyperventilation, and she kept remembering what Helena had told her about trying to keep calm for the baby, her son who would live an entirely different life than she had anticipated.
Her uncle's compliment pulled her from the blank gaze that she had fixed on the staircase that she anticipated her future husband and his mother to descend. She managed to give him a smile and her own gaze dropped once more to the swell of her stomach, both hands now resting protectively over the precious cargo within. Nearly six months gone and it felt both as if the next three months would drag on and fly by. The terror of birthing a daughter after all of this...if she didn't give Stephanos a son would he keep her or set her aside for someone else? Those thoughts lingered though she did her best to push them out of her mind, setting a smile on her lips as the queen descended, stepping forward into her embrace after executing a rather clumsy curtsy. It might be the last time she was required to bow to anyone other than her husband.
The exchange between queen and queen to be was brief but affectionate, and Olympia felt herself relaxing at the kindness from Elise, happy at least that if her new mother-in-law could be excited about this all was not lost. It was Stephanos' expression that made her own smile falter for a moment, but then again so much had changed that it was to be expected. They hadn't planned to marry one another, it was just the plan of the Fates. Taking his hand, she gave it a squeeze of reassurance for them both, after all at least they were friendly and knew full well that it would be a fertile marriage, with a marriage bed that was by her reckoning a blessed one. Not that she had much of a frame of reference.
When she saw the priest she had to bite her lip and breathe through her nose, trying to keep the panic off her face. This was it, the moments that would bind them together and her life to his irrevocably. The incense made her stomach turn but she stepped forward with a final look to Stephanos, determined to be strong for him and their child as they stepped forward together. Meeting his gaze when she could, Olympia tried to hold herself as she hoped a queen might, strong and steady to counteract the fear in both of them for what would come after this. She kept her own eyes on his throughout, trying to promise silently that she would do the best she could and smiling as she felt the baby kick as the ceremony ended, almost as if he knew he was now truly a prince and his parents were bound as one.
"Have you felt him move?"
As the ceremony had ended and their mothers wiped tears from one another's eyes, Pia took the opportunity to guide one of their still joined hands to the place where the kicks were currently most prominent, smiling once more as the babe moved again as if to greet his father. It was a strangely intimate moment, but important nonetheless.
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Olympia felt slightly faint as they waited, suddenly terrified to tie herself to the crown in such a permanent way. It had been a dream she'd never expected to come true and now that she was living it the amount of danger involved felt like a nightmare she didn't know how to wake from. It was her mother's grip that kept her breathing steady instead of hyperventilation, and she kept remembering what Helena had told her about trying to keep calm for the baby, her son who would live an entirely different life than she had anticipated.
Her uncle's compliment pulled her from the blank gaze that she had fixed on the staircase that she anticipated her future husband and his mother to descend. She managed to give him a smile and her own gaze dropped once more to the swell of her stomach, both hands now resting protectively over the precious cargo within. Nearly six months gone and it felt both as if the next three months would drag on and fly by. The terror of birthing a daughter after all of this...if she didn't give Stephanos a son would he keep her or set her aside for someone else? Those thoughts lingered though she did her best to push them out of her mind, setting a smile on her lips as the queen descended, stepping forward into her embrace after executing a rather clumsy curtsy. It might be the last time she was required to bow to anyone other than her husband.
The exchange between queen and queen to be was brief but affectionate, and Olympia felt herself relaxing at the kindness from Elise, happy at least that if her new mother-in-law could be excited about this all was not lost. It was Stephanos' expression that made her own smile falter for a moment, but then again so much had changed that it was to be expected. They hadn't planned to marry one another, it was just the plan of the Fates. Taking his hand, she gave it a squeeze of reassurance for them both, after all at least they were friendly and knew full well that it would be a fertile marriage, with a marriage bed that was by her reckoning a blessed one. Not that she had much of a frame of reference.
When she saw the priest she had to bite her lip and breathe through her nose, trying to keep the panic off her face. This was it, the moments that would bind them together and her life to his irrevocably. The incense made her stomach turn but she stepped forward with a final look to Stephanos, determined to be strong for him and their child as they stepped forward together. Meeting his gaze when she could, Olympia tried to hold herself as she hoped a queen might, strong and steady to counteract the fear in both of them for what would come after this. She kept her own eyes on his throughout, trying to promise silently that she would do the best she could and smiling as she felt the baby kick as the ceremony ended, almost as if he knew he was now truly a prince and his parents were bound as one.
"Have you felt him move?"
As the ceremony had ended and their mothers wiped tears from one another's eyes, Pia took the opportunity to guide one of their still joined hands to the place where the kicks were currently most prominent, smiling once more as the babe moved again as if to greet his father. It was a strangely intimate moment, but important nonetheless.
Olympia felt slightly faint as they waited, suddenly terrified to tie herself to the crown in such a permanent way. It had been a dream she'd never expected to come true and now that she was living it the amount of danger involved felt like a nightmare she didn't know how to wake from. It was her mother's grip that kept her breathing steady instead of hyperventilation, and she kept remembering what Helena had told her about trying to keep calm for the baby, her son who would live an entirely different life than she had anticipated.
Her uncle's compliment pulled her from the blank gaze that she had fixed on the staircase that she anticipated her future husband and his mother to descend. She managed to give him a smile and her own gaze dropped once more to the swell of her stomach, both hands now resting protectively over the precious cargo within. Nearly six months gone and it felt both as if the next three months would drag on and fly by. The terror of birthing a daughter after all of this...if she didn't give Stephanos a son would he keep her or set her aside for someone else? Those thoughts lingered though she did her best to push them out of her mind, setting a smile on her lips as the queen descended, stepping forward into her embrace after executing a rather clumsy curtsy. It might be the last time she was required to bow to anyone other than her husband.
The exchange between queen and queen to be was brief but affectionate, and Olympia felt herself relaxing at the kindness from Elise, happy at least that if her new mother-in-law could be excited about this all was not lost. It was Stephanos' expression that made her own smile falter for a moment, but then again so much had changed that it was to be expected. They hadn't planned to marry one another, it was just the plan of the Fates. Taking his hand, she gave it a squeeze of reassurance for them both, after all at least they were friendly and knew full well that it would be a fertile marriage, with a marriage bed that was by her reckoning a blessed one. Not that she had much of a frame of reference.
When she saw the priest she had to bite her lip and breathe through her nose, trying to keep the panic off her face. This was it, the moments that would bind them together and her life to his irrevocably. The incense made her stomach turn but she stepped forward with a final look to Stephanos, determined to be strong for him and their child as they stepped forward together. Meeting his gaze when she could, Olympia tried to hold herself as she hoped a queen might, strong and steady to counteract the fear in both of them for what would come after this. She kept her own eyes on his throughout, trying to promise silently that she would do the best she could and smiling as she felt the baby kick as the ceremony ended, almost as if he knew he was now truly a prince and his parents were bound as one.
"Have you felt him move?"
As the ceremony had ended and their mothers wiped tears from one another's eyes, Pia took the opportunity to guide one of their still joined hands to the place where the kicks were currently most prominent, smiling once more as the babe moved again as if to greet his father. It was a strangely intimate moment, but important nonetheless.
As the uncle to the groom, Irakles had arrived at the royal palati bright and early, dressed in all his finery. Wearing a red and gold threaded chiton that fell to his ankles, his servants had threaded the silken material through two golden buckles that now rested on either of his shoulders, and finished with the brooch of a lionhead pinned just over his heart on his chest. The top of his head was finished off with a simple golden band that served as a crown - he would not want to upstage the bride and groom on their special day after all.
It was a celebration for all, meant to be a beautiful union that ensured the continuation of the Mikaelidas line for the kingdom.
And he was not happy.
Of course, none of that showed on his face. Many years of practice meant that Irakles was well versed in putting on whatever emotion he was supposed to be showing at a particular time, instead of showing what he actually felt. Milling around the foyer as the guests - or what little there were, seeing as the event was held away from prying eyes - awaited the arrival of both bride and groom, his eyes flickered upwards when he heard the sound of his sister in law speaking exuberently, obviously excited for this union of her son and Fotios's niece.
Feigning a deep throated laugh as the Queen Mother flitted around the new bride, Irakles stepped nearer to intercept her excited tittering. "There now, Elise." he murmured in what was meant to be a soothing tone, holding his sister in law familiarly by her shoulder. "Tis time, so you have to let Stephanos have his bride." Drawing her to a side, and then letting the Queen Mother slide her hand into his offered elbow so he could escort her in, Irakles turned to his nephew, and his smile turned even wider, fake as it may be. Eyes bubbled with hidden frustration. The wedding and the pregnancy threw many wrenches into his plans - but no matter, he had a way through it.
"Congratulations, Stephanos." You'll need it. For the briefest of seconds, Irakles allowed his smirk to show. His mistress had been working the court, and the first whispers of whether or not the King was fit to rule had started. He just needed time.
Stepping back respectfully, his smooth smile now back on his face, the second prince was right behind the marrying couple as they returned to the throne room, where everyone took their places as the ceremony began. The smell of incense, the chantings of the priestess... it was all familiar. Irakles had his own many years back, when he had married Myrto. Back then, it held lkittle meaning for him other then the political benefits. Now...it wasn't very different, honestly.
"My little boy is growing up, Irakles." next to him, he heard Elise sniffle, and lay a comforting hand on the one he still had in the crook of his arm, patting it gently. "Indeed,he is." But not for long. Not if Irakles had anything to say about it.
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As the uncle to the groom, Irakles had arrived at the royal palati bright and early, dressed in all his finery. Wearing a red and gold threaded chiton that fell to his ankles, his servants had threaded the silken material through two golden buckles that now rested on either of his shoulders, and finished with the brooch of a lionhead pinned just over his heart on his chest. The top of his head was finished off with a simple golden band that served as a crown - he would not want to upstage the bride and groom on their special day after all.
It was a celebration for all, meant to be a beautiful union that ensured the continuation of the Mikaelidas line for the kingdom.
And he was not happy.
Of course, none of that showed on his face. Many years of practice meant that Irakles was well versed in putting on whatever emotion he was supposed to be showing at a particular time, instead of showing what he actually felt. Milling around the foyer as the guests - or what little there were, seeing as the event was held away from prying eyes - awaited the arrival of both bride and groom, his eyes flickered upwards when he heard the sound of his sister in law speaking exuberently, obviously excited for this union of her son and Fotios's niece.
Feigning a deep throated laugh as the Queen Mother flitted around the new bride, Irakles stepped nearer to intercept her excited tittering. "There now, Elise." he murmured in what was meant to be a soothing tone, holding his sister in law familiarly by her shoulder. "Tis time, so you have to let Stephanos have his bride." Drawing her to a side, and then letting the Queen Mother slide her hand into his offered elbow so he could escort her in, Irakles turned to his nephew, and his smile turned even wider, fake as it may be. Eyes bubbled with hidden frustration. The wedding and the pregnancy threw many wrenches into his plans - but no matter, he had a way through it.
"Congratulations, Stephanos." You'll need it. For the briefest of seconds, Irakles allowed his smirk to show. His mistress had been working the court, and the first whispers of whether or not the King was fit to rule had started. He just needed time.
Stepping back respectfully, his smooth smile now back on his face, the second prince was right behind the marrying couple as they returned to the throne room, where everyone took their places as the ceremony began. The smell of incense, the chantings of the priestess... it was all familiar. Irakles had his own many years back, when he had married Myrto. Back then, it held lkittle meaning for him other then the political benefits. Now...it wasn't very different, honestly.
"My little boy is growing up, Irakles." next to him, he heard Elise sniffle, and lay a comforting hand on the one he still had in the crook of his arm, patting it gently. "Indeed,he is." But not for long. Not if Irakles had anything to say about it.
As the uncle to the groom, Irakles had arrived at the royal palati bright and early, dressed in all his finery. Wearing a red and gold threaded chiton that fell to his ankles, his servants had threaded the silken material through two golden buckles that now rested on either of his shoulders, and finished with the brooch of a lionhead pinned just over his heart on his chest. The top of his head was finished off with a simple golden band that served as a crown - he would not want to upstage the bride and groom on their special day after all.
It was a celebration for all, meant to be a beautiful union that ensured the continuation of the Mikaelidas line for the kingdom.
And he was not happy.
Of course, none of that showed on his face. Many years of practice meant that Irakles was well versed in putting on whatever emotion he was supposed to be showing at a particular time, instead of showing what he actually felt. Milling around the foyer as the guests - or what little there were, seeing as the event was held away from prying eyes - awaited the arrival of both bride and groom, his eyes flickered upwards when he heard the sound of his sister in law speaking exuberently, obviously excited for this union of her son and Fotios's niece.
Feigning a deep throated laugh as the Queen Mother flitted around the new bride, Irakles stepped nearer to intercept her excited tittering. "There now, Elise." he murmured in what was meant to be a soothing tone, holding his sister in law familiarly by her shoulder. "Tis time, so you have to let Stephanos have his bride." Drawing her to a side, and then letting the Queen Mother slide her hand into his offered elbow so he could escort her in, Irakles turned to his nephew, and his smile turned even wider, fake as it may be. Eyes bubbled with hidden frustration. The wedding and the pregnancy threw many wrenches into his plans - but no matter, he had a way through it.
"Congratulations, Stephanos." You'll need it. For the briefest of seconds, Irakles allowed his smirk to show. His mistress had been working the court, and the first whispers of whether or not the King was fit to rule had started. He just needed time.
Stepping back respectfully, his smooth smile now back on his face, the second prince was right behind the marrying couple as they returned to the throne room, where everyone took their places as the ceremony began. The smell of incense, the chantings of the priestess... it was all familiar. Irakles had his own many years back, when he had married Myrto. Back then, it held lkittle meaning for him other then the political benefits. Now...it wasn't very different, honestly.
"My little boy is growing up, Irakles." next to him, he heard Elise sniffle, and lay a comforting hand on the one he still had in the crook of his arm, patting it gently. "Indeed,he is." But not for long. Not if Irakles had anything to say about it.
Olympia took his hand and placed it on her stomach. He frowned, resisting the urge to jerk his hand away. The fabric of her chiton was rich under his fingers. Heat from her body seeped through. Without thinking, he splayed his hand over her stomach in response.
Something fluttered under his palm. His eyes flicked up, meeting hers for an instant before he looked back down at his hand. The movement had been so light, he wasn’t entirely sure it was real. Another flutter. The corners of his mouth tugged up on their own and at last, he brought his gaze fully up to hers.
He opened his mouth to say something but no words came. Instead he pressed his hand firmer against her stomach, ignoring everyone else around them. The chanting was drawing to a close. They were standing close enough to her now that he imagined he could hear the rhythmic beating of her heart, drumming in time with his own.
“I think i do,” he murmured after a long pause.
Looking into her face, he felt the need to wrap his arms around her. He did not follow the impulse. Instead he took her hand and let the easy smile slip to his lips.
She guided his hand across her belly, following the baby’s minute kicks. Sometimes she smiled up at him, clearly feeling something that he could not but it didn’t matter. Her guarded excitement called to him in a way that was familiar and alien. They were sharing a part of themselves that neither had opened before.
Elise wiped at her eyes and then turned, dragging the backs of her knuckles down Olympia’s mother’s face, smiling and bursting into constrained laughter. Stephanos sighed, his smile tightening as he dropped his hand. For a moment, he’d forgotten other people were in the room.
“No turning back now,” he kept his tone light but his blue eyes held a seriousness that he knew she understood. It was mildly surprising how well she bore it all. If she had the nightmares he did, they didn’t show in dark circles under her eyes. To him, she appeared as she always had, though perhaps a little more reserved than before.
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Olympia took his hand and placed it on her stomach. He frowned, resisting the urge to jerk his hand away. The fabric of her chiton was rich under his fingers. Heat from her body seeped through. Without thinking, he splayed his hand over her stomach in response.
Something fluttered under his palm. His eyes flicked up, meeting hers for an instant before he looked back down at his hand. The movement had been so light, he wasn’t entirely sure it was real. Another flutter. The corners of his mouth tugged up on their own and at last, he brought his gaze fully up to hers.
He opened his mouth to say something but no words came. Instead he pressed his hand firmer against her stomach, ignoring everyone else around them. The chanting was drawing to a close. They were standing close enough to her now that he imagined he could hear the rhythmic beating of her heart, drumming in time with his own.
“I think i do,” he murmured after a long pause.
Looking into her face, he felt the need to wrap his arms around her. He did not follow the impulse. Instead he took her hand and let the easy smile slip to his lips.
She guided his hand across her belly, following the baby’s minute kicks. Sometimes she smiled up at him, clearly feeling something that he could not but it didn’t matter. Her guarded excitement called to him in a way that was familiar and alien. They were sharing a part of themselves that neither had opened before.
Elise wiped at her eyes and then turned, dragging the backs of her knuckles down Olympia’s mother’s face, smiling and bursting into constrained laughter. Stephanos sighed, his smile tightening as he dropped his hand. For a moment, he’d forgotten other people were in the room.
“No turning back now,” he kept his tone light but his blue eyes held a seriousness that he knew she understood. It was mildly surprising how well she bore it all. If she had the nightmares he did, they didn’t show in dark circles under her eyes. To him, she appeared as she always had, though perhaps a little more reserved than before.
Olympia took his hand and placed it on her stomach. He frowned, resisting the urge to jerk his hand away. The fabric of her chiton was rich under his fingers. Heat from her body seeped through. Without thinking, he splayed his hand over her stomach in response.
Something fluttered under his palm. His eyes flicked up, meeting hers for an instant before he looked back down at his hand. The movement had been so light, he wasn’t entirely sure it was real. Another flutter. The corners of his mouth tugged up on their own and at last, he brought his gaze fully up to hers.
He opened his mouth to say something but no words came. Instead he pressed his hand firmer against her stomach, ignoring everyone else around them. The chanting was drawing to a close. They were standing close enough to her now that he imagined he could hear the rhythmic beating of her heart, drumming in time with his own.
“I think i do,” he murmured after a long pause.
Looking into her face, he felt the need to wrap his arms around her. He did not follow the impulse. Instead he took her hand and let the easy smile slip to his lips.
She guided his hand across her belly, following the baby’s minute kicks. Sometimes she smiled up at him, clearly feeling something that he could not but it didn’t matter. Her guarded excitement called to him in a way that was familiar and alien. They were sharing a part of themselves that neither had opened before.
Elise wiped at her eyes and then turned, dragging the backs of her knuckles down Olympia’s mother’s face, smiling and bursting into constrained laughter. Stephanos sighed, his smile tightening as he dropped his hand. For a moment, he’d forgotten other people were in the room.
“No turning back now,” he kept his tone light but his blue eyes held a seriousness that he knew she understood. It was mildly surprising how well she bore it all. If she had the nightmares he did, they didn’t show in dark circles under her eyes. To him, she appeared as she always had, though perhaps a little more reserved than before.
He had slipped away once Olympia's mother had came to stand by the Queen Mother - Irakles was uncomfortable with conversations of the female gender. Once he saw they had clasped hands, and tears glimmered unshed in the depths of the two matriach's gaze, he stepped back and allowed the people to meld in front of him to watch the ceremony. He was there for show - nothing else. It wasn't as if Irakles had any great love for his nephew, even if that wasn't what he portrayed to the rest of the kingdom. Anyone else simply thought of him as the world's most caring uncle.
His eyes had flickered to his comrades once he had entered while escorting the Queen Mother, now, that was exactly where Irakles subtly made his way too while others crowded around the marrying couple and the priestess performing the act. With the loud chants drowning out their voices, Irakles was unafraid of his inaudible whispers being overheard by the ones he did not want to hear.
Ensuring that their backs was to the wall so no one could creep up on them unnoticed, Irakles kept his eyes trained on the main feature of the day. For the rest of the world, it looked as if the doting uncle was enraptured in the ceremony - to Fotios however, he murmured in an undertone, "Meena has been making her rounds in court. Her voice has been heard. Tasia has been a great help." He had sent his mistress out with a duty along with the list of names Fotios had supplied him just a week earlier.
"I plan on sharing meals with a number of senator's over the next few weeks. It would do you well to gain me more names and more leverage in the Senate, Fotios."
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He had slipped away once Olympia's mother had came to stand by the Queen Mother - Irakles was uncomfortable with conversations of the female gender. Once he saw they had clasped hands, and tears glimmered unshed in the depths of the two matriach's gaze, he stepped back and allowed the people to meld in front of him to watch the ceremony. He was there for show - nothing else. It wasn't as if Irakles had any great love for his nephew, even if that wasn't what he portrayed to the rest of the kingdom. Anyone else simply thought of him as the world's most caring uncle.
His eyes had flickered to his comrades once he had entered while escorting the Queen Mother, now, that was exactly where Irakles subtly made his way too while others crowded around the marrying couple and the priestess performing the act. With the loud chants drowning out their voices, Irakles was unafraid of his inaudible whispers being overheard by the ones he did not want to hear.
Ensuring that their backs was to the wall so no one could creep up on them unnoticed, Irakles kept his eyes trained on the main feature of the day. For the rest of the world, it looked as if the doting uncle was enraptured in the ceremony - to Fotios however, he murmured in an undertone, "Meena has been making her rounds in court. Her voice has been heard. Tasia has been a great help." He had sent his mistress out with a duty along with the list of names Fotios had supplied him just a week earlier.
"I plan on sharing meals with a number of senator's over the next few weeks. It would do you well to gain me more names and more leverage in the Senate, Fotios."
He had slipped away once Olympia's mother had came to stand by the Queen Mother - Irakles was uncomfortable with conversations of the female gender. Once he saw they had clasped hands, and tears glimmered unshed in the depths of the two matriach's gaze, he stepped back and allowed the people to meld in front of him to watch the ceremony. He was there for show - nothing else. It wasn't as if Irakles had any great love for his nephew, even if that wasn't what he portrayed to the rest of the kingdom. Anyone else simply thought of him as the world's most caring uncle.
His eyes had flickered to his comrades once he had entered while escorting the Queen Mother, now, that was exactly where Irakles subtly made his way too while others crowded around the marrying couple and the priestess performing the act. With the loud chants drowning out their voices, Irakles was unafraid of his inaudible whispers being overheard by the ones he did not want to hear.
Ensuring that their backs was to the wall so no one could creep up on them unnoticed, Irakles kept his eyes trained on the main feature of the day. For the rest of the world, it looked as if the doting uncle was enraptured in the ceremony - to Fotios however, he murmured in an undertone, "Meena has been making her rounds in court. Her voice has been heard. Tasia has been a great help." He had sent his mistress out with a duty along with the list of names Fotios had supplied him just a week earlier.
"I plan on sharing meals with a number of senator's over the next few weeks. It would do you well to gain me more names and more leverage in the Senate, Fotios."
Olympia beamed when the child moved beneath his father's touch, Stephanos' palm warm against her even through the chiton and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She remembered the first time she'd felt their son move, such a strange sensation from the inside she had been afraid at first that she had eaten something that didn't agree with her until Helena had reassured her it was simply the growing babe's movement and ever since then she had come to await these motions eagerly as a sign that her child was still alive and well. Looking up at her new husband, how strange that was to think, she nodded at his remark.
"He moves a good deal when you are near. Perhaps he can hear your voice."
As they followed the kicks and turns that mimicked either a dancer's grace or a warrior's fierceness when it made itself known, or the flutter of a butterfly's wings when it was more subtle, she couldn't help the smiles and how warm she felt in that moment. Husband and child, everything she'd ever wanted handed to her in such a manner that she could have never foreseen. All of the fears and issues that would come along, everything that had plagued her before seemed to fade in this moment that was just theirs in spite of those watching. Her mother's tears seemed mingled with his own mother's, and she was glad to see the two older women sharing in this moment even if it was from a distance.
As his hand dropped she tried to quell a pang of disappointment. She knew what this was, had always known since the beginning that they had only ever been bedmates and nothing more. Lovers in name but not necessarily in feeling. They were only here now by a twist of fate and their new circumstances didn't bring about feelings of love. Not yet, anyway. She lived to hope, dared to dream that their closeness would turn into something sweeter than what they had before.
"No. Only on from here."
Looking up at him, Pia took a deep breath and a step closer, hoping he didn't move away just yet so that the next words could be between them.
"And I will do my best for you. I know this isn't what you wanted, but I swear you will always have an ally and faithful wife in me."
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Olympia beamed when the child moved beneath his father's touch, Stephanos' palm warm against her even through the chiton and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She remembered the first time she'd felt their son move, such a strange sensation from the inside she had been afraid at first that she had eaten something that didn't agree with her until Helena had reassured her it was simply the growing babe's movement and ever since then she had come to await these motions eagerly as a sign that her child was still alive and well. Looking up at her new husband, how strange that was to think, she nodded at his remark.
"He moves a good deal when you are near. Perhaps he can hear your voice."
As they followed the kicks and turns that mimicked either a dancer's grace or a warrior's fierceness when it made itself known, or the flutter of a butterfly's wings when it was more subtle, she couldn't help the smiles and how warm she felt in that moment. Husband and child, everything she'd ever wanted handed to her in such a manner that she could have never foreseen. All of the fears and issues that would come along, everything that had plagued her before seemed to fade in this moment that was just theirs in spite of those watching. Her mother's tears seemed mingled with his own mother's, and she was glad to see the two older women sharing in this moment even if it was from a distance.
As his hand dropped she tried to quell a pang of disappointment. She knew what this was, had always known since the beginning that they had only ever been bedmates and nothing more. Lovers in name but not necessarily in feeling. They were only here now by a twist of fate and their new circumstances didn't bring about feelings of love. Not yet, anyway. She lived to hope, dared to dream that their closeness would turn into something sweeter than what they had before.
"No. Only on from here."
Looking up at him, Pia took a deep breath and a step closer, hoping he didn't move away just yet so that the next words could be between them.
"And I will do my best for you. I know this isn't what you wanted, but I swear you will always have an ally and faithful wife in me."
Olympia beamed when the child moved beneath his father's touch, Stephanos' palm warm against her even through the chiton and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She remembered the first time she'd felt their son move, such a strange sensation from the inside she had been afraid at first that she had eaten something that didn't agree with her until Helena had reassured her it was simply the growing babe's movement and ever since then she had come to await these motions eagerly as a sign that her child was still alive and well. Looking up at her new husband, how strange that was to think, she nodded at his remark.
"He moves a good deal when you are near. Perhaps he can hear your voice."
As they followed the kicks and turns that mimicked either a dancer's grace or a warrior's fierceness when it made itself known, or the flutter of a butterfly's wings when it was more subtle, she couldn't help the smiles and how warm she felt in that moment. Husband and child, everything she'd ever wanted handed to her in such a manner that she could have never foreseen. All of the fears and issues that would come along, everything that had plagued her before seemed to fade in this moment that was just theirs in spite of those watching. Her mother's tears seemed mingled with his own mother's, and she was glad to see the two older women sharing in this moment even if it was from a distance.
As his hand dropped she tried to quell a pang of disappointment. She knew what this was, had always known since the beginning that they had only ever been bedmates and nothing more. Lovers in name but not necessarily in feeling. They were only here now by a twist of fate and their new circumstances didn't bring about feelings of love. Not yet, anyway. She lived to hope, dared to dream that their closeness would turn into something sweeter than what they had before.
"No. Only on from here."
Looking up at him, Pia took a deep breath and a step closer, hoping he didn't move away just yet so that the next words could be between them.
"And I will do my best for you. I know this isn't what you wanted, but I swear you will always have an ally and faithful wife in me."
"And I will do my best for you. I know this isn't what you wanted, but I swear you will always have an ally and faithful wife in me."
The way she looked up at him was like a knife, twisting in his stomach, driving deeper with word. He cupped her face in his hands, trying to beat down the disappointment that had cloaked him ever since he’d informed her they would be married. She was right. This wasn’t what he wanted. He’d wanted a princess, truth be told. It didn’t matter which one. Someone very high on the political spectrum.
Instead, he’d made a political decision that was suddenly necessary, vital. As soon as his father had died, their fates were sealed once she told him of the pregnancy. He’d had to marry her and it was that force that made the taste that much more bitter. Sometimes he liked to believe he was a romantic at heart, but as he held her close, he knew it wasn’t true. Everything he’d done since the circus had been pragmatic. If he was truly ruled by passions, he’d have held out and married for love.
Love and marriage had never been something he’d planned on having in the same circle and that was the soothing balm in this whole affair. He didn’t need to love her. He just needed her to be there and to do as she promised.
“That’s all I ask,” he said, smoothing his thumbs across her cheeks, liking the softness of her skin. For another moment, he gazed down at her before bending down and brushing his lips against hers. This was a part of their marriage he was sure they would not deny each other, whatever they would become. The physical attraction was still there and he suddenly very much wished they were alone. He wanted to lose himself in her.
“Come on,” he murmured, pulling away, still holding her closer than decorum suggested he should. “We have a feast to get to first.”
The chanting of the priest and priestesses wound down until it died away completely. The head priestess came up and had him sip from a golden chalice of pomegranate juice, before having Olympia do the same. After this, the priest completed the ceremony and he was free to tug Olympia after him toward their waiting mothers.
“Oh Stephanos,” Elise enveloped him in a pillowy hug before blindly reaching out for Olympia as well until she had both of them squished on either side of her face. “Olympia, my loves. My happiness in this dreadful-” she stopped when Stephanos gently disentangled the both of them from her.
“Let’s go to the feast, mother.” Despite how much he hated his uncle, and that his uncle was there, he looked for him to lead his mother. If they were going to play this game, then Irakles had better damn well play his part. “Prince Irakles,” he called, seeing the man at the back of the room, standing beside Fotios. He thought nothing of them standing together as he hadn’t seen them talking. “The Dowager Queen?” His tone was a polite reminder; not the one he wanted to use to embarrass his uncle publically.
This wasn’t the time or place.
He waited until Irakles had collected his mother, and Fotios had Olympia’s, before leading the way to a small hall off the throne room reserved for feasts with foreign dignitaries when a private meeting was needed. As the affair was meant to be mostly private, they had elected to dine here. The food was not elaborate but full of symbolic meaning all the same. A golden bowl of pomegranate seeds, a symbol of Hera and fertility, sat on the table between the chairs where the king and queen were to sit.
Stephanos led Olympia to the table and sat down after her but he didn’t reach for any food. He’d eat in a moment but even after the other guests took their seats, he waited, keenly aware they could not start until he did. With Herculean effort, he drank from his cup, and took a single bite of food, thus allowing everyone else to essentially start without him.
“It doesn’t matter what I wanted,” he said, continuing their earlier conversation. “Just….bear with me. I don’t even know what to promise you in return.”
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"And I will do my best for you. I know this isn't what you wanted, but I swear you will always have an ally and faithful wife in me."
The way she looked up at him was like a knife, twisting in his stomach, driving deeper with word. He cupped her face in his hands, trying to beat down the disappointment that had cloaked him ever since he’d informed her they would be married. She was right. This wasn’t what he wanted. He’d wanted a princess, truth be told. It didn’t matter which one. Someone very high on the political spectrum.
Instead, he’d made a political decision that was suddenly necessary, vital. As soon as his father had died, their fates were sealed once she told him of the pregnancy. He’d had to marry her and it was that force that made the taste that much more bitter. Sometimes he liked to believe he was a romantic at heart, but as he held her close, he knew it wasn’t true. Everything he’d done since the circus had been pragmatic. If he was truly ruled by passions, he’d have held out and married for love.
Love and marriage had never been something he’d planned on having in the same circle and that was the soothing balm in this whole affair. He didn’t need to love her. He just needed her to be there and to do as she promised.
“That’s all I ask,” he said, smoothing his thumbs across her cheeks, liking the softness of her skin. For another moment, he gazed down at her before bending down and brushing his lips against hers. This was a part of their marriage he was sure they would not deny each other, whatever they would become. The physical attraction was still there and he suddenly very much wished they were alone. He wanted to lose himself in her.
“Come on,” he murmured, pulling away, still holding her closer than decorum suggested he should. “We have a feast to get to first.”
The chanting of the priest and priestesses wound down until it died away completely. The head priestess came up and had him sip from a golden chalice of pomegranate juice, before having Olympia do the same. After this, the priest completed the ceremony and he was free to tug Olympia after him toward their waiting mothers.
“Oh Stephanos,” Elise enveloped him in a pillowy hug before blindly reaching out for Olympia as well until she had both of them squished on either side of her face. “Olympia, my loves. My happiness in this dreadful-” she stopped when Stephanos gently disentangled the both of them from her.
“Let’s go to the feast, mother.” Despite how much he hated his uncle, and that his uncle was there, he looked for him to lead his mother. If they were going to play this game, then Irakles had better damn well play his part. “Prince Irakles,” he called, seeing the man at the back of the room, standing beside Fotios. He thought nothing of them standing together as he hadn’t seen them talking. “The Dowager Queen?” His tone was a polite reminder; not the one he wanted to use to embarrass his uncle publically.
This wasn’t the time or place.
He waited until Irakles had collected his mother, and Fotios had Olympia’s, before leading the way to a small hall off the throne room reserved for feasts with foreign dignitaries when a private meeting was needed. As the affair was meant to be mostly private, they had elected to dine here. The food was not elaborate but full of symbolic meaning all the same. A golden bowl of pomegranate seeds, a symbol of Hera and fertility, sat on the table between the chairs where the king and queen were to sit.
Stephanos led Olympia to the table and sat down after her but he didn’t reach for any food. He’d eat in a moment but even after the other guests took their seats, he waited, keenly aware they could not start until he did. With Herculean effort, he drank from his cup, and took a single bite of food, thus allowing everyone else to essentially start without him.
“It doesn’t matter what I wanted,” he said, continuing their earlier conversation. “Just….bear with me. I don’t even know what to promise you in return.”
"And I will do my best for you. I know this isn't what you wanted, but I swear you will always have an ally and faithful wife in me."
The way she looked up at him was like a knife, twisting in his stomach, driving deeper with word. He cupped her face in his hands, trying to beat down the disappointment that had cloaked him ever since he’d informed her they would be married. She was right. This wasn’t what he wanted. He’d wanted a princess, truth be told. It didn’t matter which one. Someone very high on the political spectrum.
Instead, he’d made a political decision that was suddenly necessary, vital. As soon as his father had died, their fates were sealed once she told him of the pregnancy. He’d had to marry her and it was that force that made the taste that much more bitter. Sometimes he liked to believe he was a romantic at heart, but as he held her close, he knew it wasn’t true. Everything he’d done since the circus had been pragmatic. If he was truly ruled by passions, he’d have held out and married for love.
Love and marriage had never been something he’d planned on having in the same circle and that was the soothing balm in this whole affair. He didn’t need to love her. He just needed her to be there and to do as she promised.
“That’s all I ask,” he said, smoothing his thumbs across her cheeks, liking the softness of her skin. For another moment, he gazed down at her before bending down and brushing his lips against hers. This was a part of their marriage he was sure they would not deny each other, whatever they would become. The physical attraction was still there and he suddenly very much wished they were alone. He wanted to lose himself in her.
“Come on,” he murmured, pulling away, still holding her closer than decorum suggested he should. “We have a feast to get to first.”
The chanting of the priest and priestesses wound down until it died away completely. The head priestess came up and had him sip from a golden chalice of pomegranate juice, before having Olympia do the same. After this, the priest completed the ceremony and he was free to tug Olympia after him toward their waiting mothers.
“Oh Stephanos,” Elise enveloped him in a pillowy hug before blindly reaching out for Olympia as well until she had both of them squished on either side of her face. “Olympia, my loves. My happiness in this dreadful-” she stopped when Stephanos gently disentangled the both of them from her.
“Let’s go to the feast, mother.” Despite how much he hated his uncle, and that his uncle was there, he looked for him to lead his mother. If they were going to play this game, then Irakles had better damn well play his part. “Prince Irakles,” he called, seeing the man at the back of the room, standing beside Fotios. He thought nothing of them standing together as he hadn’t seen them talking. “The Dowager Queen?” His tone was a polite reminder; not the one he wanted to use to embarrass his uncle publically.
This wasn’t the time or place.
He waited until Irakles had collected his mother, and Fotios had Olympia’s, before leading the way to a small hall off the throne room reserved for feasts with foreign dignitaries when a private meeting was needed. As the affair was meant to be mostly private, they had elected to dine here. The food was not elaborate but full of symbolic meaning all the same. A golden bowl of pomegranate seeds, a symbol of Hera and fertility, sat on the table between the chairs where the king and queen were to sit.
Stephanos led Olympia to the table and sat down after her but he didn’t reach for any food. He’d eat in a moment but even after the other guests took their seats, he waited, keenly aware they could not start until he did. With Herculean effort, he drank from his cup, and took a single bite of food, thus allowing everyone else to essentially start without him.
“It doesn’t matter what I wanted,” he said, continuing their earlier conversation. “Just….bear with me. I don’t even know what to promise you in return.”
She smiled as his hands braced along her cheeks, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. This was what she had wanted, affection if nothing else could sustain a relationship like this, marriage was meant for power, and securing a place in the world. She had never truly expected or hoped for love like her sisters spoke of, as blissful as the idea was the idea was just a dream that in all likelihood could never come true. She had been just a girl to be married off like the rest of her cousins and sisters, and now she had managed to outrun them all and become queen. Love she could live without, this marriage at least was on their terms.
"I promise."
Olympia lifted her hands to cover his as his lips brushed hers, meeting the kiss with a warmth that made her cheeks turn pink as they pulled apart. Staying close to him as they were handed the cup, she kept her eyes on him as she drank and sealed that ritual and their marriage. It was complete now, they were married and she was queen, her child was legitimate, and they would be royal. Everything that she had ever wanted had been handed to her, and though it hadn't come about in a way she would ever wish on anyone, now that she had it she would never let it go.
Laughing as Elise embraced them, she couldn't keep the smile from her face and met her mother's teary gaze over the dowager queen's shoulder, beaming though she wished she could see her sisters among those gathered as well. It was hard to do this without them when they had been through everything together. They knew that she and Stephanos were engaged, but to do this without them, it felt so strange and wrong. Smiling over at him once again, she squeezed his hand reassuringly as he lead them through to the feast, taking her place beside him.
This was her first moment as queen, the first of many feasts she hoped to help him preside over. Waiting as looks of expectation fell on them, she watched as he took that first sip and bite to begin the meal before turning her full attention to the conversation he seemed to wish to continue. Her nerves had gotten the best of her and so she hadn't eaten much in the day before, but it could wait until he'd said his piece. With a nod, Pia pursed her lips in thought before giving one last decisive nod.
"You've given me everything, I couldn't dream of asking a promise from you now. As long as we are strong and able, you will rule well and I shall clearly not have much trouble in bearing you heirs. What more could we do to fill our duties?"
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She smiled as his hands braced along her cheeks, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. This was what she had wanted, affection if nothing else could sustain a relationship like this, marriage was meant for power, and securing a place in the world. She had never truly expected or hoped for love like her sisters spoke of, as blissful as the idea was the idea was just a dream that in all likelihood could never come true. She had been just a girl to be married off like the rest of her cousins and sisters, and now she had managed to outrun them all and become queen. Love she could live without, this marriage at least was on their terms.
"I promise."
Olympia lifted her hands to cover his as his lips brushed hers, meeting the kiss with a warmth that made her cheeks turn pink as they pulled apart. Staying close to him as they were handed the cup, she kept her eyes on him as she drank and sealed that ritual and their marriage. It was complete now, they were married and she was queen, her child was legitimate, and they would be royal. Everything that she had ever wanted had been handed to her, and though it hadn't come about in a way she would ever wish on anyone, now that she had it she would never let it go.
Laughing as Elise embraced them, she couldn't keep the smile from her face and met her mother's teary gaze over the dowager queen's shoulder, beaming though she wished she could see her sisters among those gathered as well. It was hard to do this without them when they had been through everything together. They knew that she and Stephanos were engaged, but to do this without them, it felt so strange and wrong. Smiling over at him once again, she squeezed his hand reassuringly as he lead them through to the feast, taking her place beside him.
This was her first moment as queen, the first of many feasts she hoped to help him preside over. Waiting as looks of expectation fell on them, she watched as he took that first sip and bite to begin the meal before turning her full attention to the conversation he seemed to wish to continue. Her nerves had gotten the best of her and so she hadn't eaten much in the day before, but it could wait until he'd said his piece. With a nod, Pia pursed her lips in thought before giving one last decisive nod.
"You've given me everything, I couldn't dream of asking a promise from you now. As long as we are strong and able, you will rule well and I shall clearly not have much trouble in bearing you heirs. What more could we do to fill our duties?"
She smiled as his hands braced along her cheeks, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. This was what she had wanted, affection if nothing else could sustain a relationship like this, marriage was meant for power, and securing a place in the world. She had never truly expected or hoped for love like her sisters spoke of, as blissful as the idea was the idea was just a dream that in all likelihood could never come true. She had been just a girl to be married off like the rest of her cousins and sisters, and now she had managed to outrun them all and become queen. Love she could live without, this marriage at least was on their terms.
"I promise."
Olympia lifted her hands to cover his as his lips brushed hers, meeting the kiss with a warmth that made her cheeks turn pink as they pulled apart. Staying close to him as they were handed the cup, she kept her eyes on him as she drank and sealed that ritual and their marriage. It was complete now, they were married and she was queen, her child was legitimate, and they would be royal. Everything that she had ever wanted had been handed to her, and though it hadn't come about in a way she would ever wish on anyone, now that she had it she would never let it go.
Laughing as Elise embraced them, she couldn't keep the smile from her face and met her mother's teary gaze over the dowager queen's shoulder, beaming though she wished she could see her sisters among those gathered as well. It was hard to do this without them when they had been through everything together. They knew that she and Stephanos were engaged, but to do this without them, it felt so strange and wrong. Smiling over at him once again, she squeezed his hand reassuringly as he lead them through to the feast, taking her place beside him.
This was her first moment as queen, the first of many feasts she hoped to help him preside over. Waiting as looks of expectation fell on them, she watched as he took that first sip and bite to begin the meal before turning her full attention to the conversation he seemed to wish to continue. Her nerves had gotten the best of her and so she hadn't eaten much in the day before, but it could wait until he'd said his piece. With a nod, Pia pursed her lips in thought before giving one last decisive nod.
"You've given me everything, I couldn't dream of asking a promise from you now. As long as we are strong and able, you will rule well and I shall clearly not have much trouble in bearing you heirs. What more could we do to fill our duties?"
Glancing to his right as the prince came closer to speak with him, Fotios remained where he was standing, his back straight and his hands loosely linked behind his back. His stance was both regal and relaxed - a stature that was appropriate for a formal but supposedly joyous occasion.
As the man approached, he gave no outward recognition of his presence beyond a polite not to his highness and then listened carefully to his words. At his report of Meena and Tasia's activities in the Court. He already knew such information of course because Eirini had been attending the Court at every appearance, witnessing the persuasive skills of Irakles' pseudo-wife and daughter.
"Focus on the Condos Lords." He told the man at the mention of dinners. "Their daughters have enjoyed the company of the new King more than any other of the royal Houses... I have the least sway there."
The Condos and Leventi families were closely connected but more as business rivals than friends. He held a certain sway over the finer edges of the Condos lands and on the Dimitrou trade agreements for the horses they required for their timber logging, but the central Condos lands are loyal to a House that Leventi were less than friendly with. If Irakles could secure their support, he could sway many of the others...
"Come see me in a month's time - when the rumours have grown roots and leaves..." He told the man.
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Glancing to his right as the prince came closer to speak with him, Fotios remained where he was standing, his back straight and his hands loosely linked behind his back. His stance was both regal and relaxed - a stature that was appropriate for a formal but supposedly joyous occasion.
As the man approached, he gave no outward recognition of his presence beyond a polite not to his highness and then listened carefully to his words. At his report of Meena and Tasia's activities in the Court. He already knew such information of course because Eirini had been attending the Court at every appearance, witnessing the persuasive skills of Irakles' pseudo-wife and daughter.
"Focus on the Condos Lords." He told the man at the mention of dinners. "Their daughters have enjoyed the company of the new King more than any other of the royal Houses... I have the least sway there."
The Condos and Leventi families were closely connected but more as business rivals than friends. He held a certain sway over the finer edges of the Condos lands and on the Dimitrou trade agreements for the horses they required for their timber logging, but the central Condos lands are loyal to a House that Leventi were less than friendly with. If Irakles could secure their support, he could sway many of the others...
"Come see me in a month's time - when the rumours have grown roots and leaves..." He told the man.
Glancing to his right as the prince came closer to speak with him, Fotios remained where he was standing, his back straight and his hands loosely linked behind his back. His stance was both regal and relaxed - a stature that was appropriate for a formal but supposedly joyous occasion.
As the man approached, he gave no outward recognition of his presence beyond a polite not to his highness and then listened carefully to his words. At his report of Meena and Tasia's activities in the Court. He already knew such information of course because Eirini had been attending the Court at every appearance, witnessing the persuasive skills of Irakles' pseudo-wife and daughter.
"Focus on the Condos Lords." He told the man at the mention of dinners. "Their daughters have enjoyed the company of the new King more than any other of the royal Houses... I have the least sway there."
The Condos and Leventi families were closely connected but more as business rivals than friends. He held a certain sway over the finer edges of the Condos lands and on the Dimitrou trade agreements for the horses they required for their timber logging, but the central Condos lands are loyal to a House that Leventi were less than friendly with. If Irakles could secure their support, he could sway many of the others...
"Come see me in a month's time - when the rumours have grown roots and leaves..." He told the man.
It was a brief, almost imperceptible nod that Irakles gave in response to Fotios's words, Irakles mind quickly went to that Lord Nikolias - one who would come closest to know how he felt, for Nikolias missed out on the throne simply from a fluke of parentage. Making a mental note to pay a visit over soon and have a meal with the noble who would also serve as a senator, Irakles did not respond to Fotios's final request, but it was understood between the men that he would - they both had their parts to play, but Irakles was confident Fotios would carry out his plans well enough. The man was brilliant, and served beatifully for his plans.
Satisfied, he turned just as the familiar voice of his nephew called him, and a notch of irritation prodded at his chest. He needed to defer to Stephanos for now - at least in public. His nephew was king, and Irakles would be committing social suicide and stabbing his own plans if he did otherwise. So the general gave a smooth smile, and easily nodded when he was reminded, his gaze searching and falling on Elise's obviously happy and waiting face.
With nary a word more to Fotios, Irakles turned and made his way to his sister-in-law and offered her his arm, following after Stephanos and his new Queen to the hall where the feast had been laid out, engaging in small talk with Elise as they made the short trek over.
Leading the Queen Mother over to her seat by the King and Queen, Irakles took his own seat next to Elise, watching as the feast began and everyone started digging in to the symbolic marriage feast that was meant to celebrate a couple's union. It was clear that the chatter and talk that filled the throne room was not as jovial and boisterous as a regular wedding, but then again, nothing about this wedding was regular anyway. Irakles himself took his own helping of lamb stew, assisting in filling Elise's trencher and playing the perfect host to the parents of the bride as the bride and groom were wrapped up in their own conversation. Waving a hand to ensure the servants kept the wine chalices refilled, Irakles played the part of a gracious and perfect host.
And he retained his part as the gracious host throughout the feast, even managing a few tight smiles in his nephew's direction when the new King gave the same - engaging in conversation with all till the bride and groom had fulfilled their allotted duty and left the room. Only then, did the old general make his excuses and left the Palati. His retired gelding warhorse was brought to him in all his restless beauty. Irakles easily vaulted the back of his steed, before steering the beast on the road back to his residences, cloak billowing in the wind. For tonight... tonight, he would seek out the company for his mistress. Rest was needed, for he had a long fight ahead of him.
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It was a brief, almost imperceptible nod that Irakles gave in response to Fotios's words, Irakles mind quickly went to that Lord Nikolias - one who would come closest to know how he felt, for Nikolias missed out on the throne simply from a fluke of parentage. Making a mental note to pay a visit over soon and have a meal with the noble who would also serve as a senator, Irakles did not respond to Fotios's final request, but it was understood between the men that he would - they both had their parts to play, but Irakles was confident Fotios would carry out his plans well enough. The man was brilliant, and served beatifully for his plans.
Satisfied, he turned just as the familiar voice of his nephew called him, and a notch of irritation prodded at his chest. He needed to defer to Stephanos for now - at least in public. His nephew was king, and Irakles would be committing social suicide and stabbing his own plans if he did otherwise. So the general gave a smooth smile, and easily nodded when he was reminded, his gaze searching and falling on Elise's obviously happy and waiting face.
With nary a word more to Fotios, Irakles turned and made his way to his sister-in-law and offered her his arm, following after Stephanos and his new Queen to the hall where the feast had been laid out, engaging in small talk with Elise as they made the short trek over.
Leading the Queen Mother over to her seat by the King and Queen, Irakles took his own seat next to Elise, watching as the feast began and everyone started digging in to the symbolic marriage feast that was meant to celebrate a couple's union. It was clear that the chatter and talk that filled the throne room was not as jovial and boisterous as a regular wedding, but then again, nothing about this wedding was regular anyway. Irakles himself took his own helping of lamb stew, assisting in filling Elise's trencher and playing the perfect host to the parents of the bride as the bride and groom were wrapped up in their own conversation. Waving a hand to ensure the servants kept the wine chalices refilled, Irakles played the part of a gracious and perfect host.
And he retained his part as the gracious host throughout the feast, even managing a few tight smiles in his nephew's direction when the new King gave the same - engaging in conversation with all till the bride and groom had fulfilled their allotted duty and left the room. Only then, did the old general make his excuses and left the Palati. His retired gelding warhorse was brought to him in all his restless beauty. Irakles easily vaulted the back of his steed, before steering the beast on the road back to his residences, cloak billowing in the wind. For tonight... tonight, he would seek out the company for his mistress. Rest was needed, for he had a long fight ahead of him.
It was a brief, almost imperceptible nod that Irakles gave in response to Fotios's words, Irakles mind quickly went to that Lord Nikolias - one who would come closest to know how he felt, for Nikolias missed out on the throne simply from a fluke of parentage. Making a mental note to pay a visit over soon and have a meal with the noble who would also serve as a senator, Irakles did not respond to Fotios's final request, but it was understood between the men that he would - they both had their parts to play, but Irakles was confident Fotios would carry out his plans well enough. The man was brilliant, and served beatifully for his plans.
Satisfied, he turned just as the familiar voice of his nephew called him, and a notch of irritation prodded at his chest. He needed to defer to Stephanos for now - at least in public. His nephew was king, and Irakles would be committing social suicide and stabbing his own plans if he did otherwise. So the general gave a smooth smile, and easily nodded when he was reminded, his gaze searching and falling on Elise's obviously happy and waiting face.
With nary a word more to Fotios, Irakles turned and made his way to his sister-in-law and offered her his arm, following after Stephanos and his new Queen to the hall where the feast had been laid out, engaging in small talk with Elise as they made the short trek over.
Leading the Queen Mother over to her seat by the King and Queen, Irakles took his own seat next to Elise, watching as the feast began and everyone started digging in to the symbolic marriage feast that was meant to celebrate a couple's union. It was clear that the chatter and talk that filled the throne room was not as jovial and boisterous as a regular wedding, but then again, nothing about this wedding was regular anyway. Irakles himself took his own helping of lamb stew, assisting in filling Elise's trencher and playing the perfect host to the parents of the bride as the bride and groom were wrapped up in their own conversation. Waving a hand to ensure the servants kept the wine chalices refilled, Irakles played the part of a gracious and perfect host.
And he retained his part as the gracious host throughout the feast, even managing a few tight smiles in his nephew's direction when the new King gave the same - engaging in conversation with all till the bride and groom had fulfilled their allotted duty and left the room. Only then, did the old general make his excuses and left the Palati. His retired gelding warhorse was brought to him in all his restless beauty. Irakles easily vaulted the back of his steed, before steering the beast on the road back to his residences, cloak billowing in the wind. For tonight... tonight, he would seek out the company for his mistress. Rest was needed, for he had a long fight ahead of him.
He watched her over the rim of his chalice, holding the wine in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. Two weeks or more ago he’d assumed she was simply a social climber. It was a trait that didn’t particularly bother him then as there was no way it would impact him personally. Now that they were joined permanently, he needed to take her at her word - that she would give him heirs and not cause trouble. More than that, he needed an ally. If not his own wife, then who?
Setting his cup down, he reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze of reassurance. At that moment, his mother leaned across him to ask Olympia something about the cut of her gown and who’d tailored it for her. She was so close that her hair tickled his chin and her perfume cloyed at his nose. He sat back, placing a hand on Elise’s back, listening to the benign exchange.
That his mother could push this hard to get back to some semblance of normal made him feel that perhaps he should too. To Elise’s left, sitting like a dark shadow in the periphery, Irakles’s presence prevented him from relaxing. He’d play nice with the man while they were in public, but the second he could put evidence against the man’s self satisfied smirks...The problem was he only strongly suspected; he didn’t know for sure. This was the only thing that stayed his hand thus far.
The feast wore on. He ignored his food and drank more wine than he should have. But by the end, he was calm and freely bestowed smiles on not only Olympia, but his uncle as well. Under the table his hand rested on Olympia’s upper thigh. He was ready to take her with him and leave the rest of these people behind for the time being.
When, at last, his chance came, he stood up, taking Olympia’s hand and thanked those in attendance for their blessings. The wine sang in his veins and once outside of the feast hall, when they were away from the prying eyes of everyone else, he pressed his lips against temple, trailing kisses from there to the contour of her jaw. He was no stranger to drink and he didn’t sway or swagger, instead maintaining his easy stride. “Come on,” he murmured, ready to let tomorrow worry about itself.
Without having to wait for anyone to follow them, they made the familiar trek to his room.
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He watched her over the rim of his chalice, holding the wine in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. Two weeks or more ago he’d assumed she was simply a social climber. It was a trait that didn’t particularly bother him then as there was no way it would impact him personally. Now that they were joined permanently, he needed to take her at her word - that she would give him heirs and not cause trouble. More than that, he needed an ally. If not his own wife, then who?
Setting his cup down, he reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze of reassurance. At that moment, his mother leaned across him to ask Olympia something about the cut of her gown and who’d tailored it for her. She was so close that her hair tickled his chin and her perfume cloyed at his nose. He sat back, placing a hand on Elise’s back, listening to the benign exchange.
That his mother could push this hard to get back to some semblance of normal made him feel that perhaps he should too. To Elise’s left, sitting like a dark shadow in the periphery, Irakles’s presence prevented him from relaxing. He’d play nice with the man while they were in public, but the second he could put evidence against the man’s self satisfied smirks...The problem was he only strongly suspected; he didn’t know for sure. This was the only thing that stayed his hand thus far.
The feast wore on. He ignored his food and drank more wine than he should have. But by the end, he was calm and freely bestowed smiles on not only Olympia, but his uncle as well. Under the table his hand rested on Olympia’s upper thigh. He was ready to take her with him and leave the rest of these people behind for the time being.
When, at last, his chance came, he stood up, taking Olympia’s hand and thanked those in attendance for their blessings. The wine sang in his veins and once outside of the feast hall, when they were away from the prying eyes of everyone else, he pressed his lips against temple, trailing kisses from there to the contour of her jaw. He was no stranger to drink and he didn’t sway or swagger, instead maintaining his easy stride. “Come on,” he murmured, ready to let tomorrow worry about itself.
Without having to wait for anyone to follow them, they made the familiar trek to his room.
He watched her over the rim of his chalice, holding the wine in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. Two weeks or more ago he’d assumed she was simply a social climber. It was a trait that didn’t particularly bother him then as there was no way it would impact him personally. Now that they were joined permanently, he needed to take her at her word - that she would give him heirs and not cause trouble. More than that, he needed an ally. If not his own wife, then who?
Setting his cup down, he reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze of reassurance. At that moment, his mother leaned across him to ask Olympia something about the cut of her gown and who’d tailored it for her. She was so close that her hair tickled his chin and her perfume cloyed at his nose. He sat back, placing a hand on Elise’s back, listening to the benign exchange.
That his mother could push this hard to get back to some semblance of normal made him feel that perhaps he should too. To Elise’s left, sitting like a dark shadow in the periphery, Irakles’s presence prevented him from relaxing. He’d play nice with the man while they were in public, but the second he could put evidence against the man’s self satisfied smirks...The problem was he only strongly suspected; he didn’t know for sure. This was the only thing that stayed his hand thus far.
The feast wore on. He ignored his food and drank more wine than he should have. But by the end, he was calm and freely bestowed smiles on not only Olympia, but his uncle as well. Under the table his hand rested on Olympia’s upper thigh. He was ready to take her with him and leave the rest of these people behind for the time being.
When, at last, his chance came, he stood up, taking Olympia’s hand and thanked those in attendance for their blessings. The wine sang in his veins and once outside of the feast hall, when they were away from the prying eyes of everyone else, he pressed his lips against temple, trailing kisses from there to the contour of her jaw. He was no stranger to drink and he didn’t sway or swagger, instead maintaining his easy stride. “Come on,” he murmured, ready to let tomorrow worry about itself.
Without having to wait for anyone to follow them, they made the familiar trek to his room.
