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The preparations for the senate meeting being underway, the sudden fall in the amount of slaves being available after the arduous task of preparing for the boating race just a few days prior meant that Emilia had been tasked to ensure that the servants and retainers within the Athenian royal palace would be enough to ensure the Senate meeting and preparations for her sister's wedding would go off without a hitch. As uneager as Emilia was for Persephone to marry a man she had barely met and almost did not know, the younger sister was also unwilling to allow Persephone to receive a wedding garment she considered subpar.
Thus, Emilia had taken on the gargantuan task of ensuring the dress was made to her specifications. This also meant that the royal seamstresses would require extra help, and that had led to the young princess's appearance in the Agora that afternoon.
The heat had led the young brunette to pick a sleeveless, empire-waisted teal chiton, a thin material that would ensure she did not feel suffocated by her own clothing. With every step she took, the golden anklet she wore would ring out, calling attention to the young princess. Yet she was well protected with her retinue of half a dozen guards and three maids at her heels. Her hair was tied up, braided in a crown and wound around her head, threaded with golden threads through her locks. A small, thin golden diadem sat on her head, a teardrop diamond hanging right in the middle just above her brows.
Emilia's eyes were bright as she roamed the area, occasionally stopping to check on a trinket or another. She was a distracted one when she was given this space to wander. Occasionally, she would be greeted by a commoner or two. They were usually held back by her guards, but Emilia had given specific instructions to her guards to not be too strict - she wanted to let the Athenians get familiar with her, for to her, if they were partial to her, perhaps that partialness would rub off on her sister and in turn, increase Persephone's chances at the Senate meeting.
Her smile was genuine, sweet with each greeting, true to the nickname the Athenians had given her. While Emilia relished her life as a princess, she was not arrogant about it. Brought up as a pampered girl, she could never imagine living life in the dirts or hovels, yet she did not look unkindly upon those who did - she simply did not like mucking around herself. To her, money would solve all problems, for that was the only life she had known.
As she drew nearer to the slaves held for sale by a recent merchant, a sudden scuffle nearby made her look up in surprise, just in time to see two Athenians engaged in a disagreement suddenly start to come to blows with one another. Her guards tried to close ranks, but because Emilia had walked much further away, the distance between them and the princess proved to be too great for the military men to come close enough, and Emilia's knee-jerk reaction was to curl up within herself, hiding her face in her arms, her feet rooted to her spot as the two men throwing punches at each other flew in her direction.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The preparations for the senate meeting being underway, the sudden fall in the amount of slaves being available after the arduous task of preparing for the boating race just a few days prior meant that Emilia had been tasked to ensure that the servants and retainers within the Athenian royal palace would be enough to ensure the Senate meeting and preparations for her sister's wedding would go off without a hitch. As uneager as Emilia was for Persephone to marry a man she had barely met and almost did not know, the younger sister was also unwilling to allow Persephone to receive a wedding garment she considered subpar.
Thus, Emilia had taken on the gargantuan task of ensuring the dress was made to her specifications. This also meant that the royal seamstresses would require extra help, and that had led to the young princess's appearance in the Agora that afternoon.
The heat had led the young brunette to pick a sleeveless, empire-waisted teal chiton, a thin material that would ensure she did not feel suffocated by her own clothing. With every step she took, the golden anklet she wore would ring out, calling attention to the young princess. Yet she was well protected with her retinue of half a dozen guards and three maids at her heels. Her hair was tied up, braided in a crown and wound around her head, threaded with golden threads through her locks. A small, thin golden diadem sat on her head, a teardrop diamond hanging right in the middle just above her brows.
Emilia's eyes were bright as she roamed the area, occasionally stopping to check on a trinket or another. She was a distracted one when she was given this space to wander. Occasionally, she would be greeted by a commoner or two. They were usually held back by her guards, but Emilia had given specific instructions to her guards to not be too strict - she wanted to let the Athenians get familiar with her, for to her, if they were partial to her, perhaps that partialness would rub off on her sister and in turn, increase Persephone's chances at the Senate meeting.
Her smile was genuine, sweet with each greeting, true to the nickname the Athenians had given her. While Emilia relished her life as a princess, she was not arrogant about it. Brought up as a pampered girl, she could never imagine living life in the dirts or hovels, yet she did not look unkindly upon those who did - she simply did not like mucking around herself. To her, money would solve all problems, for that was the only life she had known.
As she drew nearer to the slaves held for sale by a recent merchant, a sudden scuffle nearby made her look up in surprise, just in time to see two Athenians engaged in a disagreement suddenly start to come to blows with one another. Her guards tried to close ranks, but because Emilia had walked much further away, the distance between them and the princess proved to be too great for the military men to come close enough, and Emilia's knee-jerk reaction was to curl up within herself, hiding her face in her arms, her feet rooted to her spot as the two men throwing punches at each other flew in her direction.
The preparations for the senate meeting being underway, the sudden fall in the amount of slaves being available after the arduous task of preparing for the boating race just a few days prior meant that Emilia had been tasked to ensure that the servants and retainers within the Athenian royal palace would be enough to ensure the Senate meeting and preparations for her sister's wedding would go off without a hitch. As uneager as Emilia was for Persephone to marry a man she had barely met and almost did not know, the younger sister was also unwilling to allow Persephone to receive a wedding garment she considered subpar.
Thus, Emilia had taken on the gargantuan task of ensuring the dress was made to her specifications. This also meant that the royal seamstresses would require extra help, and that had led to the young princess's appearance in the Agora that afternoon.
The heat had led the young brunette to pick a sleeveless, empire-waisted teal chiton, a thin material that would ensure she did not feel suffocated by her own clothing. With every step she took, the golden anklet she wore would ring out, calling attention to the young princess. Yet she was well protected with her retinue of half a dozen guards and three maids at her heels. Her hair was tied up, braided in a crown and wound around her head, threaded with golden threads through her locks. A small, thin golden diadem sat on her head, a teardrop diamond hanging right in the middle just above her brows.
Emilia's eyes were bright as she roamed the area, occasionally stopping to check on a trinket or another. She was a distracted one when she was given this space to wander. Occasionally, she would be greeted by a commoner or two. They were usually held back by her guards, but Emilia had given specific instructions to her guards to not be too strict - she wanted to let the Athenians get familiar with her, for to her, if they were partial to her, perhaps that partialness would rub off on her sister and in turn, increase Persephone's chances at the Senate meeting.
Her smile was genuine, sweet with each greeting, true to the nickname the Athenians had given her. While Emilia relished her life as a princess, she was not arrogant about it. Brought up as a pampered girl, she could never imagine living life in the dirts or hovels, yet she did not look unkindly upon those who did - she simply did not like mucking around herself. To her, money would solve all problems, for that was the only life she had known.
As she drew nearer to the slaves held for sale by a recent merchant, a sudden scuffle nearby made her look up in surprise, just in time to see two Athenians engaged in a disagreement suddenly start to come to blows with one another. Her guards tried to close ranks, but because Emilia had walked much further away, the distance between them and the princess proved to be too great for the military men to come close enough, and Emilia's knee-jerk reaction was to curl up within herself, hiding her face in her arms, her feet rooted to her spot as the two men throwing punches at each other flew in her direction.
Every chance that he got, Demetrius walked through the slave markets. He was constantly searching for something he wasn't certain he would ever find, forcing himself to wade through the misery of humanity that were the docks to see if there was one small hope that someone from his village was alive. His brother, Olena, any of her sisters, the friends he'd grown up with, it had been sixteen years but there was still a chance that one day they would come through here again. Or perhaps they searched like he did and once they had bought or won their own freedom they could meet once more.
The gladiator ignored the men trying to tempt him over to look at purchasing a very thin, very scared looking blonde girl, gritting his teeth in an attempt not to draw his dagger on the men. The scar on his stomach pulled at the thought of getting into a fight that he could not be confident of winning, and Dima steeled himself as he pushed forward. His eyes were drawn to any hint of red hair or the shade of his own. Logically he knew it would be easy enough to change or hide those features, and that decades apart and age could change everything about a person, but he felt so sure that if he one day came across those he loved, he would recognize them instantly.
A shout drew his attention over his shoulder as a group of men began to squabble over something or another, frowning at the citizens that were doing nothing to stop the violence and instead stood about watching or simply ignoring the kerfuffle. He'd expected those in the path of the violence to get out of the way, but one in particular seemed frozen in place and before he could properly calculate his actions the men barreled closer to her. He all but flew the few steps between them, scooping her up and out of the way of the fighters, drawing her a safe distance away before he looked to her and prepared to set her back on her feet.
"Are you alright my lady?"
By the look of her clothing she was someone important. She was all but dripping in finery from fabric to jewels and had the look of someone who was very well cared for about her. She was young too, a teenager at the most, and he felt his heart soften a bit. He had been prepared to shrug off the person as an idiot for freezing instead of running, but if she were truly as innocent as she looked no doubt she was more used to people moving out of the way for her than the other way about.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Every chance that he got, Demetrius walked through the slave markets. He was constantly searching for something he wasn't certain he would ever find, forcing himself to wade through the misery of humanity that were the docks to see if there was one small hope that someone from his village was alive. His brother, Olena, any of her sisters, the friends he'd grown up with, it had been sixteen years but there was still a chance that one day they would come through here again. Or perhaps they searched like he did and once they had bought or won their own freedom they could meet once more.
The gladiator ignored the men trying to tempt him over to look at purchasing a very thin, very scared looking blonde girl, gritting his teeth in an attempt not to draw his dagger on the men. The scar on his stomach pulled at the thought of getting into a fight that he could not be confident of winning, and Dima steeled himself as he pushed forward. His eyes were drawn to any hint of red hair or the shade of his own. Logically he knew it would be easy enough to change or hide those features, and that decades apart and age could change everything about a person, but he felt so sure that if he one day came across those he loved, he would recognize them instantly.
A shout drew his attention over his shoulder as a group of men began to squabble over something or another, frowning at the citizens that were doing nothing to stop the violence and instead stood about watching or simply ignoring the kerfuffle. He'd expected those in the path of the violence to get out of the way, but one in particular seemed frozen in place and before he could properly calculate his actions the men barreled closer to her. He all but flew the few steps between them, scooping her up and out of the way of the fighters, drawing her a safe distance away before he looked to her and prepared to set her back on her feet.
"Are you alright my lady?"
By the look of her clothing she was someone important. She was all but dripping in finery from fabric to jewels and had the look of someone who was very well cared for about her. She was young too, a teenager at the most, and he felt his heart soften a bit. He had been prepared to shrug off the person as an idiot for freezing instead of running, but if she were truly as innocent as she looked no doubt she was more used to people moving out of the way for her than the other way about.
Every chance that he got, Demetrius walked through the slave markets. He was constantly searching for something he wasn't certain he would ever find, forcing himself to wade through the misery of humanity that were the docks to see if there was one small hope that someone from his village was alive. His brother, Olena, any of her sisters, the friends he'd grown up with, it had been sixteen years but there was still a chance that one day they would come through here again. Or perhaps they searched like he did and once they had bought or won their own freedom they could meet once more.
The gladiator ignored the men trying to tempt him over to look at purchasing a very thin, very scared looking blonde girl, gritting his teeth in an attempt not to draw his dagger on the men. The scar on his stomach pulled at the thought of getting into a fight that he could not be confident of winning, and Dima steeled himself as he pushed forward. His eyes were drawn to any hint of red hair or the shade of his own. Logically he knew it would be easy enough to change or hide those features, and that decades apart and age could change everything about a person, but he felt so sure that if he one day came across those he loved, he would recognize them instantly.
A shout drew his attention over his shoulder as a group of men began to squabble over something or another, frowning at the citizens that were doing nothing to stop the violence and instead stood about watching or simply ignoring the kerfuffle. He'd expected those in the path of the violence to get out of the way, but one in particular seemed frozen in place and before he could properly calculate his actions the men barreled closer to her. He all but flew the few steps between them, scooping her up and out of the way of the fighters, drawing her a safe distance away before he looked to her and prepared to set her back on her feet.
"Are you alright my lady?"
By the look of her clothing she was someone important. She was all but dripping in finery from fabric to jewels and had the look of someone who was very well cared for about her. She was young too, a teenager at the most, and he felt his heart soften a bit. He had been prepared to shrug off the person as an idiot for freezing instead of running, but if she were truly as innocent as she looked no doubt she was more used to people moving out of the way for her than the other way about.
She had fully expected to be bowled over before any of her guards or retainers could get to her, perhaps even stepped on a few times - in her mind, Emilia had already reduced her fine silken chiton to collateral damage. With her body tensed and ready to face what her mind had logically told her, when in the next instance, she felt her body scooped up in a pair of strong arms, and whisked away to what she hoped was a place out of the sure path the men would tumble through.
Her eyes had been squeezed tightly shut, curling into a self-protective ball even in her savior's arms. With her heart beating a mile a minute as his voice addressed her, the young teenager cracked open her eyes -
And if she had been standing, Emilia would describe that instance as if someone had taken the floor out from under her feet. His voice was velveteen, that in itself was enough to throw Emilia in the first stages of her usual habit. But on top of the fact that he had literally been her knight in shining armor (or at least, that's what the hopeless romantic had in her head), he also had a chiselled jawline, and a concerned look in his eyes that sunk Emilia down to the depths of no return.
Realizing she now looked like a fish from the Aegean sea the way she gaped at him now, the princess quickly plucked herself out from her daze, and nodded her head as her mind scrambled to find appropriate words. Realizing her fingers had curled into the front of the male's chest, Emilia hurriedly pulled it away, careful to not stumble and make an embarassment of herself as he set her on her feet, before flashing him what she hoped wasn't too embarassing of a smile. "I am fine, kind sir. I can't thank you enough for saving me." she murmured, tucking her brunette curls behind her ear.
As her guards barreled up to her, Emilia held up a hand that cautioned them to stand down, a signal that showed she was fine, before turning bright hazel eyes in the male who had saved her again. "Is there anything I can do at all toshow my thanks, sir....?" the princess trailed off, faltering when she realized she did not know his name. It would be a lie to say she did not want to know it.
"I'm Emilia, Princess Emilia of Xanthos." she finally introduced, holding a hand out like one would when making a business deal, a friendly smile on her lips that translated all the way to the spark in her warm eyes.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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She had fully expected to be bowled over before any of her guards or retainers could get to her, perhaps even stepped on a few times - in her mind, Emilia had already reduced her fine silken chiton to collateral damage. With her body tensed and ready to face what her mind had logically told her, when in the next instance, she felt her body scooped up in a pair of strong arms, and whisked away to what she hoped was a place out of the sure path the men would tumble through.
Her eyes had been squeezed tightly shut, curling into a self-protective ball even in her savior's arms. With her heart beating a mile a minute as his voice addressed her, the young teenager cracked open her eyes -
And if she had been standing, Emilia would describe that instance as if someone had taken the floor out from under her feet. His voice was velveteen, that in itself was enough to throw Emilia in the first stages of her usual habit. But on top of the fact that he had literally been her knight in shining armor (or at least, that's what the hopeless romantic had in her head), he also had a chiselled jawline, and a concerned look in his eyes that sunk Emilia down to the depths of no return.
Realizing she now looked like a fish from the Aegean sea the way she gaped at him now, the princess quickly plucked herself out from her daze, and nodded her head as her mind scrambled to find appropriate words. Realizing her fingers had curled into the front of the male's chest, Emilia hurriedly pulled it away, careful to not stumble and make an embarassment of herself as he set her on her feet, before flashing him what she hoped wasn't too embarassing of a smile. "I am fine, kind sir. I can't thank you enough for saving me." she murmured, tucking her brunette curls behind her ear.
As her guards barreled up to her, Emilia held up a hand that cautioned them to stand down, a signal that showed she was fine, before turning bright hazel eyes in the male who had saved her again. "Is there anything I can do at all toshow my thanks, sir....?" the princess trailed off, faltering when she realized she did not know his name. It would be a lie to say she did not want to know it.
"I'm Emilia, Princess Emilia of Xanthos." she finally introduced, holding a hand out like one would when making a business deal, a friendly smile on her lips that translated all the way to the spark in her warm eyes.
She had fully expected to be bowled over before any of her guards or retainers could get to her, perhaps even stepped on a few times - in her mind, Emilia had already reduced her fine silken chiton to collateral damage. With her body tensed and ready to face what her mind had logically told her, when in the next instance, she felt her body scooped up in a pair of strong arms, and whisked away to what she hoped was a place out of the sure path the men would tumble through.
Her eyes had been squeezed tightly shut, curling into a self-protective ball even in her savior's arms. With her heart beating a mile a minute as his voice addressed her, the young teenager cracked open her eyes -
And if she had been standing, Emilia would describe that instance as if someone had taken the floor out from under her feet. His voice was velveteen, that in itself was enough to throw Emilia in the first stages of her usual habit. But on top of the fact that he had literally been her knight in shining armor (or at least, that's what the hopeless romantic had in her head), he also had a chiselled jawline, and a concerned look in his eyes that sunk Emilia down to the depths of no return.
Realizing she now looked like a fish from the Aegean sea the way she gaped at him now, the princess quickly plucked herself out from her daze, and nodded her head as her mind scrambled to find appropriate words. Realizing her fingers had curled into the front of the male's chest, Emilia hurriedly pulled it away, careful to not stumble and make an embarassment of herself as he set her on her feet, before flashing him what she hoped wasn't too embarassing of a smile. "I am fine, kind sir. I can't thank you enough for saving me." she murmured, tucking her brunette curls behind her ear.
As her guards barreled up to her, Emilia held up a hand that cautioned them to stand down, a signal that showed she was fine, before turning bright hazel eyes in the male who had saved her again. "Is there anything I can do at all toshow my thanks, sir....?" the princess trailed off, faltering when she realized she did not know his name. It would be a lie to say she did not want to know it.
"I'm Emilia, Princess Emilia of Xanthos." she finally introduced, holding a hand out like one would when making a business deal, a friendly smile on her lips that translated all the way to the spark in her warm eyes.
Her open mouthed gape was something he attributed to shock instead of anything else, and he kept one hand on her back to steady her in case she was about to fall over given the grip she currently had on his chest. Looking at her now she was far younger than he had originally thought, and ought to have some sort of escort given her age and status. Dima glanced around for a moment to find the guards that would no doubt be looking for her. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of causing her harm in any way. He might be a free man now but there was no risk he wanted to take of being forced back into slavery.
Nodding slightly at her thanks, he caught sight of who he assumed were her guards coming into view, the number of them somewhat intimidating. He looked to her once again curiously, wondering exactly who it was he'd saved from nearly being run down by a brawl. She didn't look the sort to wander the slave pens, he didn't imagine many people could have the stomach for it. But then again, it seemed most people wandering here didn't mind it at all, perhaps he only felt ill from having been on the other side of things.
"Ah, Demetrius. But there is no thanks needed, my lady. They ought to apologize, I only sought to help."
Dima was relieved that her hand signal had slowed the approach of the guards, glad that for now at least he would not be dragged away in the name of misplaced justice. Smiling at her now that they were out of harm's way, it was his turn for his jaw to drop as she introduced herself, and he immediately bowed deeply to her. The royal family wasn't something he'd ever really given much thought to outside of the feast at the palace which had been an experience in itself. He hadn't expected to be awed by them, but there was still a modicum of respect that was due to this girl.
"Forgive me, your highness. I didn't realize who you were."
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Her open mouthed gape was something he attributed to shock instead of anything else, and he kept one hand on her back to steady her in case she was about to fall over given the grip she currently had on his chest. Looking at her now she was far younger than he had originally thought, and ought to have some sort of escort given her age and status. Dima glanced around for a moment to find the guards that would no doubt be looking for her. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of causing her harm in any way. He might be a free man now but there was no risk he wanted to take of being forced back into slavery.
Nodding slightly at her thanks, he caught sight of who he assumed were her guards coming into view, the number of them somewhat intimidating. He looked to her once again curiously, wondering exactly who it was he'd saved from nearly being run down by a brawl. She didn't look the sort to wander the slave pens, he didn't imagine many people could have the stomach for it. But then again, it seemed most people wandering here didn't mind it at all, perhaps he only felt ill from having been on the other side of things.
"Ah, Demetrius. But there is no thanks needed, my lady. They ought to apologize, I only sought to help."
Dima was relieved that her hand signal had slowed the approach of the guards, glad that for now at least he would not be dragged away in the name of misplaced justice. Smiling at her now that they were out of harm's way, it was his turn for his jaw to drop as she introduced herself, and he immediately bowed deeply to her. The royal family wasn't something he'd ever really given much thought to outside of the feast at the palace which had been an experience in itself. He hadn't expected to be awed by them, but there was still a modicum of respect that was due to this girl.
"Forgive me, your highness. I didn't realize who you were."
Her open mouthed gape was something he attributed to shock instead of anything else, and he kept one hand on her back to steady her in case she was about to fall over given the grip she currently had on his chest. Looking at her now she was far younger than he had originally thought, and ought to have some sort of escort given her age and status. Dima glanced around for a moment to find the guards that would no doubt be looking for her. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of causing her harm in any way. He might be a free man now but there was no risk he wanted to take of being forced back into slavery.
Nodding slightly at her thanks, he caught sight of who he assumed were her guards coming into view, the number of them somewhat intimidating. He looked to her once again curiously, wondering exactly who it was he'd saved from nearly being run down by a brawl. She didn't look the sort to wander the slave pens, he didn't imagine many people could have the stomach for it. But then again, it seemed most people wandering here didn't mind it at all, perhaps he only felt ill from having been on the other side of things.
"Ah, Demetrius. But there is no thanks needed, my lady. They ought to apologize, I only sought to help."
Dima was relieved that her hand signal had slowed the approach of the guards, glad that for now at least he would not be dragged away in the name of misplaced justice. Smiling at her now that they were out of harm's way, it was his turn for his jaw to drop as she introduced herself, and he immediately bowed deeply to her. The royal family wasn't something he'd ever really given much thought to outside of the feast at the palace which had been an experience in itself. He hadn't expected to be awed by them, but there was still a modicum of respect that was due to this girl.
"Forgive me, your highness. I didn't realize who you were."
Emilia was... for lack of a better word, enchanted.
But it didn't take a lot to enchant the young princess. Since she had turned fourteen, Emilia had had a grand total of ten 'true loves', none of which had turned out right. Her heart fell faster then her eyes could see, and if one questioned her elder sister, Persephone likely would not be able to count how many times Emilia had burst into her elder sister's room with a sigh, and a swoon on her bed before proceeding to chatter all about her new love, only to have it all dissolve to naught a mere three or four days later.
His relief was obvious when she waved her guards away, a sigh that had Emilia hide a light gigle as he smiled at her, a smile that merely made her cheeks flush. Luckily, Helen and Dawn had dusted some powder on her cheeks before she exited the palace that morning, so her flush was hidden by the powder. Yet no powder or kohl would hide the way she shyly fidgeted with her fingers, as he bowed deeply.
Emilia jumped forward, holding him by his shoulders and straightening him up.She shook her head, the brunette ringlets bouncing as she spoke. "Oh no, do not take such formalities with me Demetrius. Tis the least I could offer after you saved me from what could have been a horrible fall." she murmured, her fingers brushing against his arms in a manner that made a thrill past through Emilia. Hiding it best as she could, the young princess bit her lip, looking around before she asked.
"What brings you to this corner of the markets, Demetrius? I..." she frowned, her eyes taking in more of his features, to which Emilia tried to place. Was it in one of the events held during the annoucement of her sister's engagement a day or two ago that she had seen him? "Are... have you ever visited the palace before, Demetrius? Odd, but I doubt I would've forgotten your face if I have met you, and you seem very familiar." While Emilia was innocent as a young teen could be, somewhat of her actions could come off as sweet, if a little coy, and it was that same expression that now glittered in her hazel eyes as she peered at the gladiator in question.
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Emilia was... for lack of a better word, enchanted.
But it didn't take a lot to enchant the young princess. Since she had turned fourteen, Emilia had had a grand total of ten 'true loves', none of which had turned out right. Her heart fell faster then her eyes could see, and if one questioned her elder sister, Persephone likely would not be able to count how many times Emilia had burst into her elder sister's room with a sigh, and a swoon on her bed before proceeding to chatter all about her new love, only to have it all dissolve to naught a mere three or four days later.
His relief was obvious when she waved her guards away, a sigh that had Emilia hide a light gigle as he smiled at her, a smile that merely made her cheeks flush. Luckily, Helen and Dawn had dusted some powder on her cheeks before she exited the palace that morning, so her flush was hidden by the powder. Yet no powder or kohl would hide the way she shyly fidgeted with her fingers, as he bowed deeply.
Emilia jumped forward, holding him by his shoulders and straightening him up.She shook her head, the brunette ringlets bouncing as she spoke. "Oh no, do not take such formalities with me Demetrius. Tis the least I could offer after you saved me from what could have been a horrible fall." she murmured, her fingers brushing against his arms in a manner that made a thrill past through Emilia. Hiding it best as she could, the young princess bit her lip, looking around before she asked.
"What brings you to this corner of the markets, Demetrius? I..." she frowned, her eyes taking in more of his features, to which Emilia tried to place. Was it in one of the events held during the annoucement of her sister's engagement a day or two ago that she had seen him? "Are... have you ever visited the palace before, Demetrius? Odd, but I doubt I would've forgotten your face if I have met you, and you seem very familiar." While Emilia was innocent as a young teen could be, somewhat of her actions could come off as sweet, if a little coy, and it was that same expression that now glittered in her hazel eyes as she peered at the gladiator in question.
Emilia was... for lack of a better word, enchanted.
But it didn't take a lot to enchant the young princess. Since she had turned fourteen, Emilia had had a grand total of ten 'true loves', none of which had turned out right. Her heart fell faster then her eyes could see, and if one questioned her elder sister, Persephone likely would not be able to count how many times Emilia had burst into her elder sister's room with a sigh, and a swoon on her bed before proceeding to chatter all about her new love, only to have it all dissolve to naught a mere three or four days later.
His relief was obvious when she waved her guards away, a sigh that had Emilia hide a light gigle as he smiled at her, a smile that merely made her cheeks flush. Luckily, Helen and Dawn had dusted some powder on her cheeks before she exited the palace that morning, so her flush was hidden by the powder. Yet no powder or kohl would hide the way she shyly fidgeted with her fingers, as he bowed deeply.
Emilia jumped forward, holding him by his shoulders and straightening him up.She shook her head, the brunette ringlets bouncing as she spoke. "Oh no, do not take such formalities with me Demetrius. Tis the least I could offer after you saved me from what could have been a horrible fall." she murmured, her fingers brushing against his arms in a manner that made a thrill past through Emilia. Hiding it best as she could, the young princess bit her lip, looking around before she asked.
"What brings you to this corner of the markets, Demetrius? I..." she frowned, her eyes taking in more of his features, to which Emilia tried to place. Was it in one of the events held during the annoucement of her sister's engagement a day or two ago that she had seen him? "Are... have you ever visited the palace before, Demetrius? Odd, but I doubt I would've forgotten your face if I have met you, and you seem very familiar." While Emilia was innocent as a young teen could be, somewhat of her actions could come off as sweet, if a little coy, and it was that same expression that now glittered in her hazel eyes as she peered at the gladiator in question.
Dima was surprised when she grabbed his shoulders as he bowed, her touch lingering even after she indicated he should stand. Glancing down as her hands slid along his arms he couldn't help but smile slightly back in response to her bubbling laugh. She was certainly different than what he'd imagined a princess would be, but if royals were all so natural and charming he could see why people would fight wars for them. He had no intention of dropping formalities as she suggested, but it was at least kind of her to offer. Tucking his hands behind his back in a casual sort of stance that he hoped indicated to her watching guards that he was no threat, he hesitated before answering her question.
"I..come here to look for someone, your highness. A friend I lost a long time ago."
There was no reason to lie, no reason to say anything other than his purpose. He wouldn't be here if he wasn't still looking for her or anyone else from his old home, the misery reminded him too much of his own past pains. But she had no way of knowing any of this, nor would he burden her mind too much with the realities that came with being a former slave or common man. She was far too sweet, innocent of the wrongs that could happen in the world and he had no desire to steal that innocence from her.
The gladiator blushed at her second question, the only time he'd ever been to the palace had been during the feast of sinners and he hadn't exactly behaved himself. Memories of the bath house and Kleio surfaced before he could redirect and he simply looked to his feet before replying. He hoped of all places she didn't recognize him from illicit activities in her father's house.
"I am a gladiator, fighting in the Arcus most days. As such I have been to the palace once before, an invitation was extended to some of us to attend the festivities. Perhaps we have seen each other and simply never spoke before now, which seems a shame."
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Dima was surprised when she grabbed his shoulders as he bowed, her touch lingering even after she indicated he should stand. Glancing down as her hands slid along his arms he couldn't help but smile slightly back in response to her bubbling laugh. She was certainly different than what he'd imagined a princess would be, but if royals were all so natural and charming he could see why people would fight wars for them. He had no intention of dropping formalities as she suggested, but it was at least kind of her to offer. Tucking his hands behind his back in a casual sort of stance that he hoped indicated to her watching guards that he was no threat, he hesitated before answering her question.
"I..come here to look for someone, your highness. A friend I lost a long time ago."
There was no reason to lie, no reason to say anything other than his purpose. He wouldn't be here if he wasn't still looking for her or anyone else from his old home, the misery reminded him too much of his own past pains. But she had no way of knowing any of this, nor would he burden her mind too much with the realities that came with being a former slave or common man. She was far too sweet, innocent of the wrongs that could happen in the world and he had no desire to steal that innocence from her.
The gladiator blushed at her second question, the only time he'd ever been to the palace had been during the feast of sinners and he hadn't exactly behaved himself. Memories of the bath house and Kleio surfaced before he could redirect and he simply looked to his feet before replying. He hoped of all places she didn't recognize him from illicit activities in her father's house.
"I am a gladiator, fighting in the Arcus most days. As such I have been to the palace once before, an invitation was extended to some of us to attend the festivities. Perhaps we have seen each other and simply never spoke before now, which seems a shame."
Dima was surprised when she grabbed his shoulders as he bowed, her touch lingering even after she indicated he should stand. Glancing down as her hands slid along his arms he couldn't help but smile slightly back in response to her bubbling laugh. She was certainly different than what he'd imagined a princess would be, but if royals were all so natural and charming he could see why people would fight wars for them. He had no intention of dropping formalities as she suggested, but it was at least kind of her to offer. Tucking his hands behind his back in a casual sort of stance that he hoped indicated to her watching guards that he was no threat, he hesitated before answering her question.
"I..come here to look for someone, your highness. A friend I lost a long time ago."
There was no reason to lie, no reason to say anything other than his purpose. He wouldn't be here if he wasn't still looking for her or anyone else from his old home, the misery reminded him too much of his own past pains. But she had no way of knowing any of this, nor would he burden her mind too much with the realities that came with being a former slave or common man. She was far too sweet, innocent of the wrongs that could happen in the world and he had no desire to steal that innocence from her.
The gladiator blushed at her second question, the only time he'd ever been to the palace had been during the feast of sinners and he hadn't exactly behaved himself. Memories of the bath house and Kleio surfaced before he could redirect and he simply looked to his feet before replying. He hoped of all places she didn't recognize him from illicit activities in her father's house.
"I am a gladiator, fighting in the Arcus most days. As such I have been to the palace once before, an invitation was extended to some of us to attend the festivities. Perhaps we have seen each other and simply never spoke before now, which seems a shame."
Hospitality was key in the upbringing of any Athenian - even more so for the royal family and their offspring. Since she had been a child, it was instilled in Emilia that she never made anyone feel uncomfortable or ostracized unless the situation calls for it, and that meant not demanding formalities unless it was necessary. She liked her position as a princess, and Emilia could imagine living no other life. She never thought she would be able to survive in a small hovel like other commonfolk - but that did not mean Emilia was haughty in anyway. She simply enjoyed life.
From the corner of her eyes, she noted her guard's watchful gaze, but let them remain in their position out of earshot. She would've loved to wave them away, but Emilia knew better - Persephone would have admonished her, especially in the times they were in. With the Senate meet looming, and her sister unsure of the plans being done by the Stravos family, she was taking no chances, and Emilia's freedom had been collateral damage.
A friend? The young girl's brows raised, her hazel eyes briefly skimming the heads of the slaves for sale, and then back to the male. "Are you not from the kingdoms then, Demetrius?" the princess murmured in innocent curiosity. Now that he's mentioned, her certainly does not look as if he would be of Grecian descent, but it was a hard tell unless one explicitly knew. "Would I be of any help then?" she asked, tone turning more welcoming and warm.
The knowledge that he was a gladiator was no surprise - Emilia would've been blind to not have noticed the toned arms from the brief moment her fingers had glazed over them, as well as the broad chest and strong limbs, all marks of a man well trained in the art of combat, be it weaponized or by hand. Festivities? Surmising it to be the Feast of Sinners just a few days prior, her hazel eyes glittered with joy at the admission. Emilia had been proud of her sister and the handmaiden for pulling off such a feat on such a busy day, and she was delighted the gladiator's had been invited to join.
"Ah, that must be where I've seen you then. I'm... ah, afraid I did not pay much attention to the gladiator games in the Arcus. They are... not my sort of entertainment." Emilia's face blanched at the memory of the bloody fight, instead turning her memory to the glittering facade of the palace that night. "But I would not forget a handsome face as yours, Demetrius, so I am sure I saw you within the palace halls that night at the feast. I do hope you enjoyed yourself?" Emilia murmured, her soft smile back in place.
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Hospitality was key in the upbringing of any Athenian - even more so for the royal family and their offspring. Since she had been a child, it was instilled in Emilia that she never made anyone feel uncomfortable or ostracized unless the situation calls for it, and that meant not demanding formalities unless it was necessary. She liked her position as a princess, and Emilia could imagine living no other life. She never thought she would be able to survive in a small hovel like other commonfolk - but that did not mean Emilia was haughty in anyway. She simply enjoyed life.
From the corner of her eyes, she noted her guard's watchful gaze, but let them remain in their position out of earshot. She would've loved to wave them away, but Emilia knew better - Persephone would have admonished her, especially in the times they were in. With the Senate meet looming, and her sister unsure of the plans being done by the Stravos family, she was taking no chances, and Emilia's freedom had been collateral damage.
A friend? The young girl's brows raised, her hazel eyes briefly skimming the heads of the slaves for sale, and then back to the male. "Are you not from the kingdoms then, Demetrius?" the princess murmured in innocent curiosity. Now that he's mentioned, her certainly does not look as if he would be of Grecian descent, but it was a hard tell unless one explicitly knew. "Would I be of any help then?" she asked, tone turning more welcoming and warm.
The knowledge that he was a gladiator was no surprise - Emilia would've been blind to not have noticed the toned arms from the brief moment her fingers had glazed over them, as well as the broad chest and strong limbs, all marks of a man well trained in the art of combat, be it weaponized or by hand. Festivities? Surmising it to be the Feast of Sinners just a few days prior, her hazel eyes glittered with joy at the admission. Emilia had been proud of her sister and the handmaiden for pulling off such a feat on such a busy day, and she was delighted the gladiator's had been invited to join.
"Ah, that must be where I've seen you then. I'm... ah, afraid I did not pay much attention to the gladiator games in the Arcus. They are... not my sort of entertainment." Emilia's face blanched at the memory of the bloody fight, instead turning her memory to the glittering facade of the palace that night. "But I would not forget a handsome face as yours, Demetrius, so I am sure I saw you within the palace halls that night at the feast. I do hope you enjoyed yourself?" Emilia murmured, her soft smile back in place.
Hospitality was key in the upbringing of any Athenian - even more so for the royal family and their offspring. Since she had been a child, it was instilled in Emilia that she never made anyone feel uncomfortable or ostracized unless the situation calls for it, and that meant not demanding formalities unless it was necessary. She liked her position as a princess, and Emilia could imagine living no other life. She never thought she would be able to survive in a small hovel like other commonfolk - but that did not mean Emilia was haughty in anyway. She simply enjoyed life.
From the corner of her eyes, she noted her guard's watchful gaze, but let them remain in their position out of earshot. She would've loved to wave them away, but Emilia knew better - Persephone would have admonished her, especially in the times they were in. With the Senate meet looming, and her sister unsure of the plans being done by the Stravos family, she was taking no chances, and Emilia's freedom had been collateral damage.
A friend? The young girl's brows raised, her hazel eyes briefly skimming the heads of the slaves for sale, and then back to the male. "Are you not from the kingdoms then, Demetrius?" the princess murmured in innocent curiosity. Now that he's mentioned, her certainly does not look as if he would be of Grecian descent, but it was a hard tell unless one explicitly knew. "Would I be of any help then?" she asked, tone turning more welcoming and warm.
The knowledge that he was a gladiator was no surprise - Emilia would've been blind to not have noticed the toned arms from the brief moment her fingers had glazed over them, as well as the broad chest and strong limbs, all marks of a man well trained in the art of combat, be it weaponized or by hand. Festivities? Surmising it to be the Feast of Sinners just a few days prior, her hazel eyes glittered with joy at the admission. Emilia had been proud of her sister and the handmaiden for pulling off such a feat on such a busy day, and she was delighted the gladiator's had been invited to join.
"Ah, that must be where I've seen you then. I'm... ah, afraid I did not pay much attention to the gladiator games in the Arcus. They are... not my sort of entertainment." Emilia's face blanched at the memory of the bloody fight, instead turning her memory to the glittering facade of the palace that night. "But I would not forget a handsome face as yours, Demetrius, so I am sure I saw you within the palace halls that night at the feast. I do hope you enjoyed yourself?" Emilia murmured, her soft smile back in place.
“No, your highness. I was once a slave myself, sold in this very market when I was fourteen.”
Perhaps it was a bit much to be telling her this, speaking so frankly about such unpleasant things in front of a princess, but then again she was party to this. She was wandering about the slave markets in such a manner without any issues in spite of all of the suffering around them. All of the people who had been taken from their homes and lands, brought here for whatever cruel purpose the free held for them. Dima had to fight to keep his expression under control, holding himself stoic and trying to prevent his forehead from showing too much of his feelings. As he aged the wrinkles there gave away every little thought he had.
Shaking his head, he took another cursory glance to see if any familiar faces or heads of red hair showed themselves, but he found nothing. There would be no one he knew here today and he took that both as blessing and curse.
“Thank you, but no. I fear the one I seek has been lost to me. But I keep her in memory and look every day I can, just in case.” Demetrius smiled at her wish that he had enjoyed himself at the festivities, allowing the less than pleasant topics to fade away and discuss the events of a few days ago instead. He hoped she hadn’t seen him too closely on the night of the party in the palace and his face flushed red at the memories. Thanks to Kleio’s influence he had been very intoxicated and very much not fit to be seen in polite company given the way his tunic and chlamys had been askew after their passionate exchange in the baths.
“It’s possible, I apologize, I do not recall meeting you at that time. I’m certain I too would have been hard pressed to forget such a face as yours.”
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“No, your highness. I was once a slave myself, sold in this very market when I was fourteen.”
Perhaps it was a bit much to be telling her this, speaking so frankly about such unpleasant things in front of a princess, but then again she was party to this. She was wandering about the slave markets in such a manner without any issues in spite of all of the suffering around them. All of the people who had been taken from their homes and lands, brought here for whatever cruel purpose the free held for them. Dima had to fight to keep his expression under control, holding himself stoic and trying to prevent his forehead from showing too much of his feelings. As he aged the wrinkles there gave away every little thought he had.
Shaking his head, he took another cursory glance to see if any familiar faces or heads of red hair showed themselves, but he found nothing. There would be no one he knew here today and he took that both as blessing and curse.
“Thank you, but no. I fear the one I seek has been lost to me. But I keep her in memory and look every day I can, just in case.” Demetrius smiled at her wish that he had enjoyed himself at the festivities, allowing the less than pleasant topics to fade away and discuss the events of a few days ago instead. He hoped she hadn’t seen him too closely on the night of the party in the palace and his face flushed red at the memories. Thanks to Kleio’s influence he had been very intoxicated and very much not fit to be seen in polite company given the way his tunic and chlamys had been askew after their passionate exchange in the baths.
“It’s possible, I apologize, I do not recall meeting you at that time. I’m certain I too would have been hard pressed to forget such a face as yours.”
“No, your highness. I was once a slave myself, sold in this very market when I was fourteen.”
Perhaps it was a bit much to be telling her this, speaking so frankly about such unpleasant things in front of a princess, but then again she was party to this. She was wandering about the slave markets in such a manner without any issues in spite of all of the suffering around them. All of the people who had been taken from their homes and lands, brought here for whatever cruel purpose the free held for them. Dima had to fight to keep his expression under control, holding himself stoic and trying to prevent his forehead from showing too much of his feelings. As he aged the wrinkles there gave away every little thought he had.
Shaking his head, he took another cursory glance to see if any familiar faces or heads of red hair showed themselves, but he found nothing. There would be no one he knew here today and he took that both as blessing and curse.
“Thank you, but no. I fear the one I seek has been lost to me. But I keep her in memory and look every day I can, just in case.” Demetrius smiled at her wish that he had enjoyed himself at the festivities, allowing the less than pleasant topics to fade away and discuss the events of a few days ago instead. He hoped she hadn’t seen him too closely on the night of the party in the palace and his face flushed red at the memories. Thanks to Kleio’s influence he had been very intoxicated and very much not fit to be seen in polite company given the way his tunic and chlamys had been askew after their passionate exchange in the baths.
“It’s possible, I apologize, I do not recall meeting you at that time. I’m certain I too would have been hard pressed to forget such a face as yours.”
Slaves were not an anomaly, nor were they unnatural to Emilia. She had lived her whole life having slaves serving on her hand and foot - but that did not mean Emilia treated them in any way that was demeaning or stripped them of their dignity. No, Emilia was in fact one who treated them as friends - her own bodyguard had once been a slave who was granted his freedom, and one of her retainers happened to also be a close friend of hers. Emilia saw them as companions rather then servants, merely there to serve as additions to her life.
However, she also knew not everyone treated them the same way, and it was also perhaps the reason why her father and sister rarely allowed her down so far into the markets to watch slave being sold. Emilia had a soft heart by nature, and could not bring it in her to hurt anyone intentionally. It was also why whenever she did come down, her guards were under strict instructions by her guardians to shield her eyes from the suffering and disastrous ways in which certain slave traders would treat their wares - she was a cocooned child, of that it was certain.
But now being one step away from her guards, Demetrius's words made her turn and look, and a stricken look paled the young princess's pallor, as it now dawned on her just how horrible life could be for certain people.
Biting her lip, her heart went out - she would speak to Persephone when she returned on the matter, but the younger Xanthos was almost certain Persephone would simply tell her that was how life was like, and how the economy thrived in these times. As a young sixteen year old, what sway did she have in the running of a kingdom other then what her sister wore to events?
Hearing the fighter's words, Emilia's heart dropped. A romantic at heart, it did not take much for the brunette to pick up on the forlorn tone in which he referred to his friend as a 'she'... was there more then simply just a friend, then? Deciding not to pursue the matter for fear of causing the man further distress however, Emilia was happy to allow the conversation to turn to the Feast of Sinners, smiling as he murmured the possibility of them having brushed shoulders and not noticed in the crush of the festivities.
Her flush dusted her cheeks at the subtle compliment, but before Emilia could come up with a proper response, a guard sidled up to her, a soft voice murmuring that she should be back to the palace within the next hour, and should get a move on if she wanted to check on the seamstresses tasked to prepare the exquisite material to be used for her sister's wedding outfit.
Nodding at her guard, Emilia turned her apologetic smile to Demetrius, and gave a polite curtsy at the man. "I'm afraid I shall have to take my leave, sir Demetrius. My guards have reminded me I have little time to accomplish what my tasks were. I... do hope we shall meet again, soon." she daringly tacked on to the end, eyes sparkling with a hint of a hope, before she turned and allowed her teal chiton to follow in her trail, her anklet chiming with each step she took away from the foreign male.
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Slaves were not an anomaly, nor were they unnatural to Emilia. She had lived her whole life having slaves serving on her hand and foot - but that did not mean Emilia treated them in any way that was demeaning or stripped them of their dignity. No, Emilia was in fact one who treated them as friends - her own bodyguard had once been a slave who was granted his freedom, and one of her retainers happened to also be a close friend of hers. Emilia saw them as companions rather then servants, merely there to serve as additions to her life.
However, she also knew not everyone treated them the same way, and it was also perhaps the reason why her father and sister rarely allowed her down so far into the markets to watch slave being sold. Emilia had a soft heart by nature, and could not bring it in her to hurt anyone intentionally. It was also why whenever she did come down, her guards were under strict instructions by her guardians to shield her eyes from the suffering and disastrous ways in which certain slave traders would treat their wares - she was a cocooned child, of that it was certain.
But now being one step away from her guards, Demetrius's words made her turn and look, and a stricken look paled the young princess's pallor, as it now dawned on her just how horrible life could be for certain people.
Biting her lip, her heart went out - she would speak to Persephone when she returned on the matter, but the younger Xanthos was almost certain Persephone would simply tell her that was how life was like, and how the economy thrived in these times. As a young sixteen year old, what sway did she have in the running of a kingdom other then what her sister wore to events?
Hearing the fighter's words, Emilia's heart dropped. A romantic at heart, it did not take much for the brunette to pick up on the forlorn tone in which he referred to his friend as a 'she'... was there more then simply just a friend, then? Deciding not to pursue the matter for fear of causing the man further distress however, Emilia was happy to allow the conversation to turn to the Feast of Sinners, smiling as he murmured the possibility of them having brushed shoulders and not noticed in the crush of the festivities.
Her flush dusted her cheeks at the subtle compliment, but before Emilia could come up with a proper response, a guard sidled up to her, a soft voice murmuring that she should be back to the palace within the next hour, and should get a move on if she wanted to check on the seamstresses tasked to prepare the exquisite material to be used for her sister's wedding outfit.
Nodding at her guard, Emilia turned her apologetic smile to Demetrius, and gave a polite curtsy at the man. "I'm afraid I shall have to take my leave, sir Demetrius. My guards have reminded me I have little time to accomplish what my tasks were. I... do hope we shall meet again, soon." she daringly tacked on to the end, eyes sparkling with a hint of a hope, before she turned and allowed her teal chiton to follow in her trail, her anklet chiming with each step she took away from the foreign male.
Slaves were not an anomaly, nor were they unnatural to Emilia. She had lived her whole life having slaves serving on her hand and foot - but that did not mean Emilia treated them in any way that was demeaning or stripped them of their dignity. No, Emilia was in fact one who treated them as friends - her own bodyguard had once been a slave who was granted his freedom, and one of her retainers happened to also be a close friend of hers. Emilia saw them as companions rather then servants, merely there to serve as additions to her life.
However, she also knew not everyone treated them the same way, and it was also perhaps the reason why her father and sister rarely allowed her down so far into the markets to watch slave being sold. Emilia had a soft heart by nature, and could not bring it in her to hurt anyone intentionally. It was also why whenever she did come down, her guards were under strict instructions by her guardians to shield her eyes from the suffering and disastrous ways in which certain slave traders would treat their wares - she was a cocooned child, of that it was certain.
But now being one step away from her guards, Demetrius's words made her turn and look, and a stricken look paled the young princess's pallor, as it now dawned on her just how horrible life could be for certain people.
Biting her lip, her heart went out - she would speak to Persephone when she returned on the matter, but the younger Xanthos was almost certain Persephone would simply tell her that was how life was like, and how the economy thrived in these times. As a young sixteen year old, what sway did she have in the running of a kingdom other then what her sister wore to events?
Hearing the fighter's words, Emilia's heart dropped. A romantic at heart, it did not take much for the brunette to pick up on the forlorn tone in which he referred to his friend as a 'she'... was there more then simply just a friend, then? Deciding not to pursue the matter for fear of causing the man further distress however, Emilia was happy to allow the conversation to turn to the Feast of Sinners, smiling as he murmured the possibility of them having brushed shoulders and not noticed in the crush of the festivities.
Her flush dusted her cheeks at the subtle compliment, but before Emilia could come up with a proper response, a guard sidled up to her, a soft voice murmuring that she should be back to the palace within the next hour, and should get a move on if she wanted to check on the seamstresses tasked to prepare the exquisite material to be used for her sister's wedding outfit.
Nodding at her guard, Emilia turned her apologetic smile to Demetrius, and gave a polite curtsy at the man. "I'm afraid I shall have to take my leave, sir Demetrius. My guards have reminded me I have little time to accomplish what my tasks were. I... do hope we shall meet again, soon." she daringly tacked on to the end, eyes sparkling with a hint of a hope, before she turned and allowed her teal chiton to follow in her trail, her anklet chiming with each step she took away from the foreign male.
Though he had seen them from afar when they came to the Arcus to watch the battles, Dima had never met one of the roals up close before today, and she was very much not what he had expected. Until today he had very little reason to have an opinion of the royal family, they had done nothing directly to or for him. Like most of the citizens of the country he had allowed them to go about their business as they allowed him to do his. He didn’t approve of the keeping of slaves, but this girl likely had little to do with it.
He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t hold her attention for much longer, though she was very polite as her guard reminded her of her duties. Dima gave a smile, nodding in understanding as she made her excuses. He hadn’t expected much of the day, but at the very least, he was coming away from this meeting with a better attitude towards the daughters of the king. Princess Emilia had been nothing but kind, and of all of the nobles and royals he’d encountered she was the one he would most likely wish to see again.
”Of course, Your Highness. I am at your service should you ever desire it.” Dima gave a bow as she turned and left him there, remaining for a moment before straightening up. There was little use in prowling the markets, but he was only halfway done and he still couldn’t give up the search.
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Though he had seen them from afar when they came to the Arcus to watch the battles, Dima had never met one of the roals up close before today, and she was very much not what he had expected. Until today he had very little reason to have an opinion of the royal family, they had done nothing directly to or for him. Like most of the citizens of the country he had allowed them to go about their business as they allowed him to do his. He didn’t approve of the keeping of slaves, but this girl likely had little to do with it.
He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t hold her attention for much longer, though she was very polite as her guard reminded her of her duties. Dima gave a smile, nodding in understanding as she made her excuses. He hadn’t expected much of the day, but at the very least, he was coming away from this meeting with a better attitude towards the daughters of the king. Princess Emilia had been nothing but kind, and of all of the nobles and royals he’d encountered she was the one he would most likely wish to see again.
”Of course, Your Highness. I am at your service should you ever desire it.” Dima gave a bow as she turned and left him there, remaining for a moment before straightening up. There was little use in prowling the markets, but he was only halfway done and he still couldn’t give up the search.
Though he had seen them from afar when they came to the Arcus to watch the battles, Dima had never met one of the roals up close before today, and she was very much not what he had expected. Until today he had very little reason to have an opinion of the royal family, they had done nothing directly to or for him. Like most of the citizens of the country he had allowed them to go about their business as they allowed him to do his. He didn’t approve of the keeping of slaves, but this girl likely had little to do with it.
He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t hold her attention for much longer, though she was very polite as her guard reminded her of her duties. Dima gave a smile, nodding in understanding as she made her excuses. He hadn’t expected much of the day, but at the very least, he was coming away from this meeting with a better attitude towards the daughters of the king. Princess Emilia had been nothing but kind, and of all of the nobles and royals he’d encountered she was the one he would most likely wish to see again.
”Of course, Your Highness. I am at your service should you ever desire it.” Dima gave a bow as she turned and left him there, remaining for a moment before straightening up. There was little use in prowling the markets, but he was only halfway done and he still couldn’t give up the search.
