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If asked some number of months ago whether or not she enjoyed weddings, Gianna would have answered that she generally did not know as she had never attended one. She would have ventured a guess that she could not think of a reason not to enjoy weddings, therefore she must enjoy the generally exuberant occasions in and of themselves. When she awoke on the morning of her cousin’s wedding, however, she felt nothing but dread in her heart.
The princess had found it difficult to care about much in the days since her brother’s disappearance from Taengea. The vast majority of her energy became concentrated on lying low, sneaking about the paláti to avoid her uncle and mother at all costs. She had all but given up commanding her sleep, adding sunken eyes to her already hollow cheeks. With evident concern, Elpis had commented on Gianna’s appearance in the days leading up to the wedding, offering to pursue a remedy. The princess merely shook her head and thanked her for the offer with a soft voice and a smile that never quite reached her eyes.
The Archontikó Mikaelidas was exactly where Gianna did not want to be. It would be nigh on impossible to avoid her uncle in his own home, much less during the celebration of his eldest son’s wedding and as a member of the Dynasteía Mikaelidas she was required to be in attendance. Gianna trembled and shook with every touch as she was bathed and dressed for the day’s events. Elpis had ordered a new gown for the occasion—and because most of Gianna’s wardrobe had become too large with her shrinking figure. The blonde commended her lady for the burgundy chiton, appreciating her effort to replace the one which had been sacrificed to the Egyptian emissary’s visit.
Gianna took her place in front of the looking glass as her hair was plaited and twisted into an ornate pile on top of her head. She hardly recognized the girl who stared back as she delicately placed her diadem. She selected a small number of golden bangles and her necklace bearing the family crest as a knock on her door alerted her to the carriage being ready. As she entered the courtyard, she could just see the back of Xene’s head as it disappeared into the distance. An icy fear clawed at her chest as she realized that she would be alone in the carriage on the road to their uncle’s home, into the very lair of the beast.
The ride to the Mikaelidas estate was not long by any means, in fact she wished it could have lasted a good deal longer as she did not feel ready to face any members of her family save for her sister. Her arrival was quiet, an aspect she was rather thankful for on this particular day. It did not take long to locate her sister, a beacon of calm amongst the tussle of servants scrambling to complete the preparations. Under normal circumstances, Gianna would immediately gravitate to Xene’s side and spend the event within sight of her sister. However, she did not quite feel ready for that level of interaction just yet, choosing instead to seek refuge in the gardens until a frenzy from inside announced the arrival of Achilleas and Theodora.
With a heavy sigh, the youngest Mikaelidas peeled herself from the klinē where she had settled upon her arrival and tentatively joined the rest of the guests. She scanned the faces, desperately seeking the sister she had previously evaded. After a brief moment of panic, she was able to pick out Xene’s blonde curls amongst the crowd. She had accrued quite the accompaniment. Approaching the small group with caution, Gianna was careful not to let the depth of her condition show. She could not let Irakles know just how he affected her, much less how nervous being in his home made her.
“Lord Dimitrou, Lady Evangelina,” she greeted the pair with a respectful inclination of her head. Reaching for her sister’s arm as was her custom, she looped her elbow with Xene’s and offered a soft greeting, briefly pressing her temple to her sister’s shoulder. Turning her attention to the merchant in the small cluster, she offered him the brightest smile she could muster. “Lovely to see you again, Basilides. I pray our meeting will end on a better note.”
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If asked some number of months ago whether or not she enjoyed weddings, Gianna would have answered that she generally did not know as she had never attended one. She would have ventured a guess that she could not think of a reason not to enjoy weddings, therefore she must enjoy the generally exuberant occasions in and of themselves. When she awoke on the morning of her cousin’s wedding, however, she felt nothing but dread in her heart.
The princess had found it difficult to care about much in the days since her brother’s disappearance from Taengea. The vast majority of her energy became concentrated on lying low, sneaking about the paláti to avoid her uncle and mother at all costs. She had all but given up commanding her sleep, adding sunken eyes to her already hollow cheeks. With evident concern, Elpis had commented on Gianna’s appearance in the days leading up to the wedding, offering to pursue a remedy. The princess merely shook her head and thanked her for the offer with a soft voice and a smile that never quite reached her eyes.
The Archontikó Mikaelidas was exactly where Gianna did not want to be. It would be nigh on impossible to avoid her uncle in his own home, much less during the celebration of his eldest son’s wedding and as a member of the Dynasteía Mikaelidas she was required to be in attendance. Gianna trembled and shook with every touch as she was bathed and dressed for the day’s events. Elpis had ordered a new gown for the occasion—and because most of Gianna’s wardrobe had become too large with her shrinking figure. The blonde commended her lady for the burgundy chiton, appreciating her effort to replace the one which had been sacrificed to the Egyptian emissary’s visit.
Gianna took her place in front of the looking glass as her hair was plaited and twisted into an ornate pile on top of her head. She hardly recognized the girl who stared back as she delicately placed her diadem. She selected a small number of golden bangles and her necklace bearing the family crest as a knock on her door alerted her to the carriage being ready. As she entered the courtyard, she could just see the back of Xene’s head as it disappeared into the distance. An icy fear clawed at her chest as she realized that she would be alone in the carriage on the road to their uncle’s home, into the very lair of the beast.
The ride to the Mikaelidas estate was not long by any means, in fact she wished it could have lasted a good deal longer as she did not feel ready to face any members of her family save for her sister. Her arrival was quiet, an aspect she was rather thankful for on this particular day. It did not take long to locate her sister, a beacon of calm amongst the tussle of servants scrambling to complete the preparations. Under normal circumstances, Gianna would immediately gravitate to Xene’s side and spend the event within sight of her sister. However, she did not quite feel ready for that level of interaction just yet, choosing instead to seek refuge in the gardens until a frenzy from inside announced the arrival of Achilleas and Theodora.
With a heavy sigh, the youngest Mikaelidas peeled herself from the klinē where she had settled upon her arrival and tentatively joined the rest of the guests. She scanned the faces, desperately seeking the sister she had previously evaded. After a brief moment of panic, she was able to pick out Xene’s blonde curls amongst the crowd. She had accrued quite the accompaniment. Approaching the small group with caution, Gianna was careful not to let the depth of her condition show. She could not let Irakles know just how he affected her, much less how nervous being in his home made her.
“Lord Dimitrou, Lady Evangelina,” she greeted the pair with a respectful inclination of her head. Reaching for her sister’s arm as was her custom, she looped her elbow with Xene’s and offered a soft greeting, briefly pressing her temple to her sister’s shoulder. Turning her attention to the merchant in the small cluster, she offered him the brightest smile she could muster. “Lovely to see you again, Basilides. I pray our meeting will end on a better note.”
If asked some number of months ago whether or not she enjoyed weddings, Gianna would have answered that she generally did not know as she had never attended one. She would have ventured a guess that she could not think of a reason not to enjoy weddings, therefore she must enjoy the generally exuberant occasions in and of themselves. When she awoke on the morning of her cousin’s wedding, however, she felt nothing but dread in her heart.
The princess had found it difficult to care about much in the days since her brother’s disappearance from Taengea. The vast majority of her energy became concentrated on lying low, sneaking about the paláti to avoid her uncle and mother at all costs. She had all but given up commanding her sleep, adding sunken eyes to her already hollow cheeks. With evident concern, Elpis had commented on Gianna’s appearance in the days leading up to the wedding, offering to pursue a remedy. The princess merely shook her head and thanked her for the offer with a soft voice and a smile that never quite reached her eyes.
The Archontikó Mikaelidas was exactly where Gianna did not want to be. It would be nigh on impossible to avoid her uncle in his own home, much less during the celebration of his eldest son’s wedding and as a member of the Dynasteía Mikaelidas she was required to be in attendance. Gianna trembled and shook with every touch as she was bathed and dressed for the day’s events. Elpis had ordered a new gown for the occasion—and because most of Gianna’s wardrobe had become too large with her shrinking figure. The blonde commended her lady for the burgundy chiton, appreciating her effort to replace the one which had been sacrificed to the Egyptian emissary’s visit.
Gianna took her place in front of the looking glass as her hair was plaited and twisted into an ornate pile on top of her head. She hardly recognized the girl who stared back as she delicately placed her diadem. She selected a small number of golden bangles and her necklace bearing the family crest as a knock on her door alerted her to the carriage being ready. As she entered the courtyard, she could just see the back of Xene’s head as it disappeared into the distance. An icy fear clawed at her chest as she realized that she would be alone in the carriage on the road to their uncle’s home, into the very lair of the beast.
The ride to the Mikaelidas estate was not long by any means, in fact she wished it could have lasted a good deal longer as she did not feel ready to face any members of her family save for her sister. Her arrival was quiet, an aspect she was rather thankful for on this particular day. It did not take long to locate her sister, a beacon of calm amongst the tussle of servants scrambling to complete the preparations. Under normal circumstances, Gianna would immediately gravitate to Xene’s side and spend the event within sight of her sister. However, she did not quite feel ready for that level of interaction just yet, choosing instead to seek refuge in the gardens until a frenzy from inside announced the arrival of Achilleas and Theodora.
With a heavy sigh, the youngest Mikaelidas peeled herself from the klinē where she had settled upon her arrival and tentatively joined the rest of the guests. She scanned the faces, desperately seeking the sister she had previously evaded. After a brief moment of panic, she was able to pick out Xene’s blonde curls amongst the crowd. She had accrued quite the accompaniment. Approaching the small group with caution, Gianna was careful not to let the depth of her condition show. She could not let Irakles know just how he affected her, much less how nervous being in his home made her.
“Lord Dimitrou, Lady Evangelina,” she greeted the pair with a respectful inclination of her head. Reaching for her sister’s arm as was her custom, she looped her elbow with Xene’s and offered a soft greeting, briefly pressing her temple to her sister’s shoulder. Turning her attention to the merchant in the small cluster, she offered him the brightest smile she could muster. “Lovely to see you again, Basilides. I pray our meeting will end on a better note.”
Xene, as much as she wished she could, could not find herself in the mood for a wedding. Honestly, there were better ways to spend her time, but her cousin deserved this day. This happiness. She could not rob Achilleas of that. The fact that she had been given the task of ensuring the celebration was in order was the only thing keeping her in place instead of sending her back in the direction of her home. The princess had come to loathe weddings, especially because it had long become past due for one of her own. Part of her didn’t know whether to hope for love or just a match that would serve to do her status justice. Then again, marrying was a rather moot point now. What with her silent devotion to a married lord and her quickly increasing status as Lord Fotios’ silent mistress.
“The gods always test weddings,” Xene observed calmly, giving Lady Evangeline a playful smile, “it is how they know that a marriage will be fortuitous. If both sides of the family can easily face a challenge together, the bride and groom shall be stronger for it,” she continued. Then the approach of the wedding group was enough to take most of her attention for a few moments. Gratefully taking the chalice of wine from Evangeline, Xene murmured a gently, “Thank you,” to the lady. Lifting her own cup in a toast to the new couple, Xene once more found her gaze slipping to Lady Evangeline, “I suppose it does,” she recited almost absently, letting out a careful breath to avoid expressing her dismay at being here.
Seeing her uncle parade around as the newly crowned King, a position and title that should have still belonged to her brother was not something that sat well with the princess.
But once the toast was ended, people started to join her and the Lady Evangeline. First Lord Gavriil of Dimitrou, to whom she bowed low and respectfully. “I am pleased to see you, Lord Dimitrou,” Xene said with a beautiful smile. “Though you appear as if you are quite out of your element,” she observed cordially. Then she leaned forward, “Don’t worry. I feel quite the same,” and just like that, her charm returned and she was focused on not seeming like a stick in the mud. She even flashed Lady Evangeline a smile, her blue gaze brightening.
That same blue gaze drifted in the direction of King Irakles and Lord Fotios and Xene lifted her cup to her lips. She sipped slowly as she met Lord Fotios’ gaze. To anyone observing, she was simply observing the best friend of the King. A man who had just as much to do with arranging this wedding as the King himself. Her blue eyes glinting with some unknown emotion, the princess had to refrain from letting a smile tilt her lips. The sinful kind that she knew would bring Lord Fotios in her direction. She wasn’t ready to settle on his arm as friend and confidant. The princess wanted a few more moments of freedom to tempt him.
Maybe then he might give her more than the proffered little temptations he’d been turning her head with for weeks. Since before their relationship had been solidified.
Xene turned her gaze from him, instead letting it settle on Basilides. His greeting was proper and she was very clearly glad to see him. They had, after all, met only a few short days before. She rather liked the young man and had every intention of keeping him at her back for anything and everything that she needed of him. Basilides had mobility and intelligence. Plus, he was incredibly easy on the eyes. “He has been nothing but sweet, I assure you, Basilides,” the princess admonished the man, giving him a pretty little smirk, “Though I think a bit of mischief might make this event all the more easier to swallow,” she jested, opening her embrace to her sister as Gianna approached.
On instinct. As if Xene fully expected her sister to arrive at her side. Because that was how everything always went with the two of them. Generally attached at the hip unless one thing or another pulled them away. Leaning her own head against Gianna’s in silent greeting, she turned her head to whisper in her sister’s ear, “It has become my personal custom to tell you that you look stunning,” Xene said lovingly, reaching over to put her other hand over Gianna’s, keeping her sister close to her side. The last two of Zenon of Mikaelidas’ children left in Teangea. Xene couldn’t help but find some silent solidarity with her sister. The one sign that they could use to show that they were there and they were not going anywhere.
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Xene, as much as she wished she could, could not find herself in the mood for a wedding. Honestly, there were better ways to spend her time, but her cousin deserved this day. This happiness. She could not rob Achilleas of that. The fact that she had been given the task of ensuring the celebration was in order was the only thing keeping her in place instead of sending her back in the direction of her home. The princess had come to loathe weddings, especially because it had long become past due for one of her own. Part of her didn’t know whether to hope for love or just a match that would serve to do her status justice. Then again, marrying was a rather moot point now. What with her silent devotion to a married lord and her quickly increasing status as Lord Fotios’ silent mistress.
“The gods always test weddings,” Xene observed calmly, giving Lady Evangeline a playful smile, “it is how they know that a marriage will be fortuitous. If both sides of the family can easily face a challenge together, the bride and groom shall be stronger for it,” she continued. Then the approach of the wedding group was enough to take most of her attention for a few moments. Gratefully taking the chalice of wine from Evangeline, Xene murmured a gently, “Thank you,” to the lady. Lifting her own cup in a toast to the new couple, Xene once more found her gaze slipping to Lady Evangeline, “I suppose it does,” she recited almost absently, letting out a careful breath to avoid expressing her dismay at being here.
Seeing her uncle parade around as the newly crowned King, a position and title that should have still belonged to her brother was not something that sat well with the princess.
But once the toast was ended, people started to join her and the Lady Evangeline. First Lord Gavriil of Dimitrou, to whom she bowed low and respectfully. “I am pleased to see you, Lord Dimitrou,” Xene said with a beautiful smile. “Though you appear as if you are quite out of your element,” she observed cordially. Then she leaned forward, “Don’t worry. I feel quite the same,” and just like that, her charm returned and she was focused on not seeming like a stick in the mud. She even flashed Lady Evangeline a smile, her blue gaze brightening.
That same blue gaze drifted in the direction of King Irakles and Lord Fotios and Xene lifted her cup to her lips. She sipped slowly as she met Lord Fotios’ gaze. To anyone observing, she was simply observing the best friend of the King. A man who had just as much to do with arranging this wedding as the King himself. Her blue eyes glinting with some unknown emotion, the princess had to refrain from letting a smile tilt her lips. The sinful kind that she knew would bring Lord Fotios in her direction. She wasn’t ready to settle on his arm as friend and confidant. The princess wanted a few more moments of freedom to tempt him.
Maybe then he might give her more than the proffered little temptations he’d been turning her head with for weeks. Since before their relationship had been solidified.
Xene turned her gaze from him, instead letting it settle on Basilides. His greeting was proper and she was very clearly glad to see him. They had, after all, met only a few short days before. She rather liked the young man and had every intention of keeping him at her back for anything and everything that she needed of him. Basilides had mobility and intelligence. Plus, he was incredibly easy on the eyes. “He has been nothing but sweet, I assure you, Basilides,” the princess admonished the man, giving him a pretty little smirk, “Though I think a bit of mischief might make this event all the more easier to swallow,” she jested, opening her embrace to her sister as Gianna approached.
On instinct. As if Xene fully expected her sister to arrive at her side. Because that was how everything always went with the two of them. Generally attached at the hip unless one thing or another pulled them away. Leaning her own head against Gianna’s in silent greeting, she turned her head to whisper in her sister’s ear, “It has become my personal custom to tell you that you look stunning,” Xene said lovingly, reaching over to put her other hand over Gianna’s, keeping her sister close to her side. The last two of Zenon of Mikaelidas’ children left in Teangea. Xene couldn’t help but find some silent solidarity with her sister. The one sign that they could use to show that they were there and they were not going anywhere.
Xene, as much as she wished she could, could not find herself in the mood for a wedding. Honestly, there were better ways to spend her time, but her cousin deserved this day. This happiness. She could not rob Achilleas of that. The fact that she had been given the task of ensuring the celebration was in order was the only thing keeping her in place instead of sending her back in the direction of her home. The princess had come to loathe weddings, especially because it had long become past due for one of her own. Part of her didn’t know whether to hope for love or just a match that would serve to do her status justice. Then again, marrying was a rather moot point now. What with her silent devotion to a married lord and her quickly increasing status as Lord Fotios’ silent mistress.
“The gods always test weddings,” Xene observed calmly, giving Lady Evangeline a playful smile, “it is how they know that a marriage will be fortuitous. If both sides of the family can easily face a challenge together, the bride and groom shall be stronger for it,” she continued. Then the approach of the wedding group was enough to take most of her attention for a few moments. Gratefully taking the chalice of wine from Evangeline, Xene murmured a gently, “Thank you,” to the lady. Lifting her own cup in a toast to the new couple, Xene once more found her gaze slipping to Lady Evangeline, “I suppose it does,” she recited almost absently, letting out a careful breath to avoid expressing her dismay at being here.
Seeing her uncle parade around as the newly crowned King, a position and title that should have still belonged to her brother was not something that sat well with the princess.
But once the toast was ended, people started to join her and the Lady Evangeline. First Lord Gavriil of Dimitrou, to whom she bowed low and respectfully. “I am pleased to see you, Lord Dimitrou,” Xene said with a beautiful smile. “Though you appear as if you are quite out of your element,” she observed cordially. Then she leaned forward, “Don’t worry. I feel quite the same,” and just like that, her charm returned and she was focused on not seeming like a stick in the mud. She even flashed Lady Evangeline a smile, her blue gaze brightening.
That same blue gaze drifted in the direction of King Irakles and Lord Fotios and Xene lifted her cup to her lips. She sipped slowly as she met Lord Fotios’ gaze. To anyone observing, she was simply observing the best friend of the King. A man who had just as much to do with arranging this wedding as the King himself. Her blue eyes glinting with some unknown emotion, the princess had to refrain from letting a smile tilt her lips. The sinful kind that she knew would bring Lord Fotios in her direction. She wasn’t ready to settle on his arm as friend and confidant. The princess wanted a few more moments of freedom to tempt him.
Maybe then he might give her more than the proffered little temptations he’d been turning her head with for weeks. Since before their relationship had been solidified.
Xene turned her gaze from him, instead letting it settle on Basilides. His greeting was proper and she was very clearly glad to see him. They had, after all, met only a few short days before. She rather liked the young man and had every intention of keeping him at her back for anything and everything that she needed of him. Basilides had mobility and intelligence. Plus, he was incredibly easy on the eyes. “He has been nothing but sweet, I assure you, Basilides,” the princess admonished the man, giving him a pretty little smirk, “Though I think a bit of mischief might make this event all the more easier to swallow,” she jested, opening her embrace to her sister as Gianna approached.
On instinct. As if Xene fully expected her sister to arrive at her side. Because that was how everything always went with the two of them. Generally attached at the hip unless one thing or another pulled them away. Leaning her own head against Gianna’s in silent greeting, she turned her head to whisper in her sister’s ear, “It has become my personal custom to tell you that you look stunning,” Xene said lovingly, reaching over to put her other hand over Gianna’s, keeping her sister close to her side. The last two of Zenon of Mikaelidas’ children left in Teangea. Xene couldn’t help but find some silent solidarity with her sister. The one sign that they could use to show that they were there and they were not going anywhere.
She shouldn't have been surprised when the order was passed down for her to prepare to serve the wedding party. Of course she would be forced to witness the happiness of two beautiful, wealthy people, be forced to smile and nod and bow to the guests as the man she loved celebrated his marriage to someone else. Theodora of Leventi, the beautiful whore, would be praised for her grace and purity, and she would be forgotten as usual.
Like the other servants she was dressed in the maroon of Mikaelidas, her hair bound out of the way, braided back and pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck though some of the wild curls had begun to escape and fray out around her face as the day went on. The chain that was far too fine for her to possess had stared at her from atop her other things, until finally with a stubborn set to her chin she had draped the gold about her neck. If he thought he could buy her off and forget, he was very much mistaken. She had been tasked with carrying an amphora of wine, offering it to guests to refill their glasses as she moved about the room and the party slowly filtered in.
The arrival of the bride and groom brought with it more noise and people, and as she locked her gaze on Achilleas she could see the way his smile faltered when his eyes met hers. Whether it was the chain that gleamed against the red of her gown, or something else, he didn't appear to have completely forgotten yet at least. She stared back at him until he looked away, gaze still pinned to him until one of the guests called for wine. Filling more and more glasses, when it finally came to the end she returned to the buffet and exchanged the empty amphora for one that was full, freezing when she looked up to see Theodora, now of Mikaelidas standing by.
"My lady."
She'd seen the other woman around the house, attended to her several times, though whether or not the noble gave any notice to her remained to be seen. The gold against her gown was the only thing that set her apart from the other women wandering about and performing the same tasks. The curtsy she forced herself into was somewhat stiff but as she straightened Briseis offered the amphora to fill the bride's cup. Someone had fixed her dress. Pity.
"Wine? You look as if you need it."
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She shouldn't have been surprised when the order was passed down for her to prepare to serve the wedding party. Of course she would be forced to witness the happiness of two beautiful, wealthy people, be forced to smile and nod and bow to the guests as the man she loved celebrated his marriage to someone else. Theodora of Leventi, the beautiful whore, would be praised for her grace and purity, and she would be forgotten as usual.
Like the other servants she was dressed in the maroon of Mikaelidas, her hair bound out of the way, braided back and pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck though some of the wild curls had begun to escape and fray out around her face as the day went on. The chain that was far too fine for her to possess had stared at her from atop her other things, until finally with a stubborn set to her chin she had draped the gold about her neck. If he thought he could buy her off and forget, he was very much mistaken. She had been tasked with carrying an amphora of wine, offering it to guests to refill their glasses as she moved about the room and the party slowly filtered in.
The arrival of the bride and groom brought with it more noise and people, and as she locked her gaze on Achilleas she could see the way his smile faltered when his eyes met hers. Whether it was the chain that gleamed against the red of her gown, or something else, he didn't appear to have completely forgotten yet at least. She stared back at him until he looked away, gaze still pinned to him until one of the guests called for wine. Filling more and more glasses, when it finally came to the end she returned to the buffet and exchanged the empty amphora for one that was full, freezing when she looked up to see Theodora, now of Mikaelidas standing by.
"My lady."
She'd seen the other woman around the house, attended to her several times, though whether or not the noble gave any notice to her remained to be seen. The gold against her gown was the only thing that set her apart from the other women wandering about and performing the same tasks. The curtsy she forced herself into was somewhat stiff but as she straightened Briseis offered the amphora to fill the bride's cup. Someone had fixed her dress. Pity.
"Wine? You look as if you need it."
She shouldn't have been surprised when the order was passed down for her to prepare to serve the wedding party. Of course she would be forced to witness the happiness of two beautiful, wealthy people, be forced to smile and nod and bow to the guests as the man she loved celebrated his marriage to someone else. Theodora of Leventi, the beautiful whore, would be praised for her grace and purity, and she would be forgotten as usual.
Like the other servants she was dressed in the maroon of Mikaelidas, her hair bound out of the way, braided back and pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck though some of the wild curls had begun to escape and fray out around her face as the day went on. The chain that was far too fine for her to possess had stared at her from atop her other things, until finally with a stubborn set to her chin she had draped the gold about her neck. If he thought he could buy her off and forget, he was very much mistaken. She had been tasked with carrying an amphora of wine, offering it to guests to refill their glasses as she moved about the room and the party slowly filtered in.
The arrival of the bride and groom brought with it more noise and people, and as she locked her gaze on Achilleas she could see the way his smile faltered when his eyes met hers. Whether it was the chain that gleamed against the red of her gown, or something else, he didn't appear to have completely forgotten yet at least. She stared back at him until he looked away, gaze still pinned to him until one of the guests called for wine. Filling more and more glasses, when it finally came to the end she returned to the buffet and exchanged the empty amphora for one that was full, freezing when she looked up to see Theodora, now of Mikaelidas standing by.
"My lady."
She'd seen the other woman around the house, attended to her several times, though whether or not the noble gave any notice to her remained to be seen. The gold against her gown was the only thing that set her apart from the other women wandering about and performing the same tasks. The curtsy she forced herself into was somewhat stiff but as she straightened Briseis offered the amphora to fill the bride's cup. Someone had fixed her dress. Pity.
"Wine? You look as if you need it."
Alighting from the carriage, Evelli smiled as she watched Theodora, and couldn't help but give her husband's hand a squeeze. Her own wedding day was decades ago, at least three, and while it was no celebration of love, she had come to love Georgios in their own way, and would want for no better husband. They may not have known each other prior to their marriage, but Georgios had shown himself to be an exemplary husband and father to their offspring, and Evelli couldn't help but reminiscience upon the day so many summers ago with mild nostalgia, before turning to seek for Theodora as they entered the Mikaelidas manor for the feast.
The King had outdone himself, for it seemed that the tables would creak and break under the amount of food prepared for the guests. In a corner where hired performers entertained the guests, Evelli could see the younger attendants of the festivities smiling and bopping around as they enjoyed the music. Many more were of course conversing and catching up with each other over wine and other fine food. Just as Evelli's eyes fell upon Theodora's form where she stood with her husband, greeted by the guests of theri wedding, Georgios reminded her with a tug on her arm.
"You should go, m'love. The ship awaits you and Nana at the docks. I shall keep an eye on Imma now."
It was enough of a reminder that they had plans. It would have been unbecoming for Evelli to leave before her own daughter's wedding was concluded, but now that Theodora was well and truly married to the Dynasteia Mikaelidas, she now had to attend to her other two daughters. To leave both Imma and Nana in Taengea under the watchful eye of their father had been her first plan, but after some careful thought, Evelli had eventually decided to bring Nana along. While it would not be the best idea when she was on her way to visit people who were now considered traitors to the Taengean crown, she'd rather have Nana where she can see and hear her unruly daughter, who was sometimes more like a firecracker then Evelli would like.
"Just a moment, Georgios." she murmured, pulling away from her husband to follow after Theodora. Watching as her brunette offspring found a shade inside, she smiled at some guests, before materializing in front of Theodora. Evelli quickly took a loose hold on Theodora's wrists, giving an apologetic smile to the maid who had approached Theodora just moments before she came, before she pulled at her daughter to a more shadowy alcove, where the woman wasted no time in pressing a warm kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Have care, Theo. You are now family to the King and wife to a crown prince, but do not forget Olympia once stood in your place too." Evelli's warning was clear - do not act as your sister had, for Evelli did not want harm befalling yet another daughter.
"Nana and I leave now. I am deeply sorry I am not able to stay for the remainder of your ceremony my love, but..." Evelli trailed off, hoping Theodora got the implication. She loved all her daughters equally, but right now Olympia's fraught hold on life with her pregnancy and husband, meant Evelli needed to tend to her first. Without words, she squeezed the hand of her daughter's she held onto tightly, before letting it go. "Write to me should you need anything."
With that, she pressed another kiss to Theodora's cheek, and led her back to the maid. "Your lady would have that wine now." Evelli said in a neutral tone and another smile offered to the young maid, before heading off to find Nana. Their bags and chalices were packed and waiting for them on the ship, they simply had to make their way there, and Georgios had already went to make sure their carriages were ready once he saw Evelli seeking for Nana.
It took some time, before her hazel eyes finally fell upon the bright head of her gregarious daughter, and there Evelli laid a hand upon Nana's shoulder, cutting in to whatever conversation she was having with a pleasant smile. Making up an excuse on the spot, Evelli pulled Nana out of earshot before murmuring to her younger one. "Let's go now, Nana. The ship awaits."
Trusting her daughter to follow, Evelli led the way out of the Mikaelidas manor, where she was greeted by Georgios's peck on each cheek, the same the man bestowed upon his daughter before handing both women up to the carriage that would bring them to the waiting ship sailing to Colchis. "Write to me should anything occur, Georgios." Evelli said, waving before the man shut the door, and the carriage rumbled along the streets.
Taengea had been home to Evelli for as long as she could remember, and outside of travelling to Serenn, Evelli rarely took trips on a boat to other kingdoms. That was a job suited for the men of the realm, and it was always Georgios who went to other kingdoms on visitations.
But this was a job for the mother, and Evelli needed to see for her own eyes that both her elder girls were alright.
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Alighting from the carriage, Evelli smiled as she watched Theodora, and couldn't help but give her husband's hand a squeeze. Her own wedding day was decades ago, at least three, and while it was no celebration of love, she had come to love Georgios in their own way, and would want for no better husband. They may not have known each other prior to their marriage, but Georgios had shown himself to be an exemplary husband and father to their offspring, and Evelli couldn't help but reminiscience upon the day so many summers ago with mild nostalgia, before turning to seek for Theodora as they entered the Mikaelidas manor for the feast.
The King had outdone himself, for it seemed that the tables would creak and break under the amount of food prepared for the guests. In a corner where hired performers entertained the guests, Evelli could see the younger attendants of the festivities smiling and bopping around as they enjoyed the music. Many more were of course conversing and catching up with each other over wine and other fine food. Just as Evelli's eyes fell upon Theodora's form where she stood with her husband, greeted by the guests of theri wedding, Georgios reminded her with a tug on her arm.
"You should go, m'love. The ship awaits you and Nana at the docks. I shall keep an eye on Imma now."
It was enough of a reminder that they had plans. It would have been unbecoming for Evelli to leave before her own daughter's wedding was concluded, but now that Theodora was well and truly married to the Dynasteia Mikaelidas, she now had to attend to her other two daughters. To leave both Imma and Nana in Taengea under the watchful eye of their father had been her first plan, but after some careful thought, Evelli had eventually decided to bring Nana along. While it would not be the best idea when she was on her way to visit people who were now considered traitors to the Taengean crown, she'd rather have Nana where she can see and hear her unruly daughter, who was sometimes more like a firecracker then Evelli would like.
"Just a moment, Georgios." she murmured, pulling away from her husband to follow after Theodora. Watching as her brunette offspring found a shade inside, she smiled at some guests, before materializing in front of Theodora. Evelli quickly took a loose hold on Theodora's wrists, giving an apologetic smile to the maid who had approached Theodora just moments before she came, before she pulled at her daughter to a more shadowy alcove, where the woman wasted no time in pressing a warm kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Have care, Theo. You are now family to the King and wife to a crown prince, but do not forget Olympia once stood in your place too." Evelli's warning was clear - do not act as your sister had, for Evelli did not want harm befalling yet another daughter.
"Nana and I leave now. I am deeply sorry I am not able to stay for the remainder of your ceremony my love, but..." Evelli trailed off, hoping Theodora got the implication. She loved all her daughters equally, but right now Olympia's fraught hold on life with her pregnancy and husband, meant Evelli needed to tend to her first. Without words, she squeezed the hand of her daughter's she held onto tightly, before letting it go. "Write to me should you need anything."
With that, she pressed another kiss to Theodora's cheek, and led her back to the maid. "Your lady would have that wine now." Evelli said in a neutral tone and another smile offered to the young maid, before heading off to find Nana. Their bags and chalices were packed and waiting for them on the ship, they simply had to make their way there, and Georgios had already went to make sure their carriages were ready once he saw Evelli seeking for Nana.
It took some time, before her hazel eyes finally fell upon the bright head of her gregarious daughter, and there Evelli laid a hand upon Nana's shoulder, cutting in to whatever conversation she was having with a pleasant smile. Making up an excuse on the spot, Evelli pulled Nana out of earshot before murmuring to her younger one. "Let's go now, Nana. The ship awaits."
Trusting her daughter to follow, Evelli led the way out of the Mikaelidas manor, where she was greeted by Georgios's peck on each cheek, the same the man bestowed upon his daughter before handing both women up to the carriage that would bring them to the waiting ship sailing to Colchis. "Write to me should anything occur, Georgios." Evelli said, waving before the man shut the door, and the carriage rumbled along the streets.
Taengea had been home to Evelli for as long as she could remember, and outside of travelling to Serenn, Evelli rarely took trips on a boat to other kingdoms. That was a job suited for the men of the realm, and it was always Georgios who went to other kingdoms on visitations.
But this was a job for the mother, and Evelli needed to see for her own eyes that both her elder girls were alright.
Alighting from the carriage, Evelli smiled as she watched Theodora, and couldn't help but give her husband's hand a squeeze. Her own wedding day was decades ago, at least three, and while it was no celebration of love, she had come to love Georgios in their own way, and would want for no better husband. They may not have known each other prior to their marriage, but Georgios had shown himself to be an exemplary husband and father to their offspring, and Evelli couldn't help but reminiscience upon the day so many summers ago with mild nostalgia, before turning to seek for Theodora as they entered the Mikaelidas manor for the feast.
The King had outdone himself, for it seemed that the tables would creak and break under the amount of food prepared for the guests. In a corner where hired performers entertained the guests, Evelli could see the younger attendants of the festivities smiling and bopping around as they enjoyed the music. Many more were of course conversing and catching up with each other over wine and other fine food. Just as Evelli's eyes fell upon Theodora's form where she stood with her husband, greeted by the guests of theri wedding, Georgios reminded her with a tug on her arm.
"You should go, m'love. The ship awaits you and Nana at the docks. I shall keep an eye on Imma now."
It was enough of a reminder that they had plans. It would have been unbecoming for Evelli to leave before her own daughter's wedding was concluded, but now that Theodora was well and truly married to the Dynasteia Mikaelidas, she now had to attend to her other two daughters. To leave both Imma and Nana in Taengea under the watchful eye of their father had been her first plan, but after some careful thought, Evelli had eventually decided to bring Nana along. While it would not be the best idea when she was on her way to visit people who were now considered traitors to the Taengean crown, she'd rather have Nana where she can see and hear her unruly daughter, who was sometimes more like a firecracker then Evelli would like.
"Just a moment, Georgios." she murmured, pulling away from her husband to follow after Theodora. Watching as her brunette offspring found a shade inside, she smiled at some guests, before materializing in front of Theodora. Evelli quickly took a loose hold on Theodora's wrists, giving an apologetic smile to the maid who had approached Theodora just moments before she came, before she pulled at her daughter to a more shadowy alcove, where the woman wasted no time in pressing a warm kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Have care, Theo. You are now family to the King and wife to a crown prince, but do not forget Olympia once stood in your place too." Evelli's warning was clear - do not act as your sister had, for Evelli did not want harm befalling yet another daughter.
"Nana and I leave now. I am deeply sorry I am not able to stay for the remainder of your ceremony my love, but..." Evelli trailed off, hoping Theodora got the implication. She loved all her daughters equally, but right now Olympia's fraught hold on life with her pregnancy and husband, meant Evelli needed to tend to her first. Without words, she squeezed the hand of her daughter's she held onto tightly, before letting it go. "Write to me should you need anything."
With that, she pressed another kiss to Theodora's cheek, and led her back to the maid. "Your lady would have that wine now." Evelli said in a neutral tone and another smile offered to the young maid, before heading off to find Nana. Their bags and chalices were packed and waiting for them on the ship, they simply had to make their way there, and Georgios had already went to make sure their carriages were ready once he saw Evelli seeking for Nana.
It took some time, before her hazel eyes finally fell upon the bright head of her gregarious daughter, and there Evelli laid a hand upon Nana's shoulder, cutting in to whatever conversation she was having with a pleasant smile. Making up an excuse on the spot, Evelli pulled Nana out of earshot before murmuring to her younger one. "Let's go now, Nana. The ship awaits."
Trusting her daughter to follow, Evelli led the way out of the Mikaelidas manor, where she was greeted by Georgios's peck on each cheek, the same the man bestowed upon his daughter before handing both women up to the carriage that would bring them to the waiting ship sailing to Colchis. "Write to me should anything occur, Georgios." Evelli said, waving before the man shut the door, and the carriage rumbled along the streets.
Taengea had been home to Evelli for as long as she could remember, and outside of travelling to Serenn, Evelli rarely took trips on a boat to other kingdoms. That was a job suited for the men of the realm, and it was always Georgios who went to other kingdoms on visitations.
But this was a job for the mother, and Evelli needed to see for her own eyes that both her elder girls were alright.
The squeeze of Theodora’s hand around his own took Achilleas by surprise. He was so used to weathering his father’s unique forms of encouragement, whilst everyone else saw only his charming public persona that he didn’t know quite how to handle the fact that she had noticed. Sliding his gaze toward her, the Crown Prince - for how could he possibly forget- returned her smile, allowing her to distract him from that brief moment of discord.
This was how it would be now- he and Theodora together, against whatever whatever the fates decided to throw at them. It was heartening, and enough to see him to set aside thoughts of all else as they were bounced from family to family for well wishes, and then finally escaped to the carriage which was fast becoming Achilleas’ favoured location of the day. And whilst the fantasy of escaping the feast to follow held momentary appeal, he laughed at the idea of the chaos that would ensue, gave a resigned sort of sigh because one thing he knew all about was the importance of duty before his own desires.
The gardens of the Mikaelidas manor had been dressed for the occasion, no doubt with almost as much care as the Bride and Groom themselves, and there was no doubt that there was a celebration being held. Achilleas found a little appreciation then, for all the work that had gone into it, even though it had pained him in the days running up to the event.
Everything was...perfect. Almost. Because the sight of Briseis amongst those servants gathered to receive the guests had more than a twinge of discomfort about it, particularly when he noted that she wore the gift he had sent her, despite how out of place it looked. What was he supposed to make of that? Some - admittedly stupid- sign that he was forgiven, or something else? His gaze met that of the maid for a few beats, and he looked away first, deciding that ignoring that little situation was really only the appropriate thing to do as he refocused on his bride, raising a toast to her before she returned the favour and he took a large sip of wine.
Amongst those guests that had gathered, Achilleas was glad to find his cousin Princess Xene standing with Lady Evangelina, and he caught the latter’s eyes upon him, tipped his glass toward her briefly before his attention was swallowed up by somebody stopping to offer congratulations. It was more than a little overwhelming, and Achilleas found himself caught in a cycle of well wishes from everyone to minor lords whose names he had to remind himself so he could ask after their families, to members of his own.
When the Head of House Dimitrou approached, the groom received the congratulations with a gracious inclination of his head. He had a new kind of appreciation for the taciturn Lord Gavriil since their conversation a few days prior, and his smile was warm and genuine as he looked upon the man. “My thanks, Lord Gavriil. Indeed I count myself as blessed.”
He lifted his chalice in return, not surprised when the older man melted away to find a quieter spot. He almost wished he could do the same, but no sooner had Lord Gavriil stepped away than his place was filled with another and Achilleas’ face ached from smiling, and his attempts to find original ways to accept all of the toasts and good wishes soon fell by the wayside in favour of a rote response. Indeed, when Theodora turned to press a kiss to his cheek and left him alone, he could not begrudge her wanting to escape, and watched her go a moment, taking a sip of wine from his cup that he realised did not seem to be going down at all. The servers were too efficient, and he would have watch that lest it go to his head.
There was a rare moment of respite before someone clasped his shoulder and Achilleas turned to find Krysto at his side, the Captain smiling broadly. “Have you misplaced your bride already your highness?” the dark haired man asked, pulling back to sketch a bow towards his Commander. Achilleas gave him a look, but felt some of the tension bleed out of his shoulders for here was someone who he did not have to impress at least.
“On the contrary, I think she saw you coming and beat a hasty retreat” he replied, looking over the tops of people’s heads to find where Theodora had gotten to. He found her by the tables, out of the heat of the sun, and what he saw then had him still. Why was Briseis talking to Theodora? Could she not just give her a wide berth? Was it too much to ask? His gaze narrowed a little, and Krysto followed his eyeline, a muted ‘Aaah’ of understanding as he noted what had the Prince looking so unhappy.
“Would you like me to go and stage an interruption?” he asked in an undertone, and Achilleas shot him a grateful look. Krysto was one of the only people who knew of the unfortunate mess he’d gotten himself into, and he didn’t have to answer, the soldier already moving off, only pausing to murmur a “and for Hera’s sake stop glowering. It’s your wedding day. You’re happy. I’ll deal with it”. The Captain made a direct line to where he could see the new Princess, intending to call Briseis away to fill his own cup which he was busy draining in preparation. The things one did for duty.
For his part, Achilleas smoothed his expression almost immediately, aware again that there would be eyes upon him this day and he did not need to fan any flames of gossip. He chose that moment to turn and greet one of the Mikaelidas Varonos, trying to ignore whatever Krysto was doing. He trusted the man to prevent anything untoward happening.
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The squeeze of Theodora’s hand around his own took Achilleas by surprise. He was so used to weathering his father’s unique forms of encouragement, whilst everyone else saw only his charming public persona that he didn’t know quite how to handle the fact that she had noticed. Sliding his gaze toward her, the Crown Prince - for how could he possibly forget- returned her smile, allowing her to distract him from that brief moment of discord.
This was how it would be now- he and Theodora together, against whatever whatever the fates decided to throw at them. It was heartening, and enough to see him to set aside thoughts of all else as they were bounced from family to family for well wishes, and then finally escaped to the carriage which was fast becoming Achilleas’ favoured location of the day. And whilst the fantasy of escaping the feast to follow held momentary appeal, he laughed at the idea of the chaos that would ensue, gave a resigned sort of sigh because one thing he knew all about was the importance of duty before his own desires.
The gardens of the Mikaelidas manor had been dressed for the occasion, no doubt with almost as much care as the Bride and Groom themselves, and there was no doubt that there was a celebration being held. Achilleas found a little appreciation then, for all the work that had gone into it, even though it had pained him in the days running up to the event.
Everything was...perfect. Almost. Because the sight of Briseis amongst those servants gathered to receive the guests had more than a twinge of discomfort about it, particularly when he noted that she wore the gift he had sent her, despite how out of place it looked. What was he supposed to make of that? Some - admittedly stupid- sign that he was forgiven, or something else? His gaze met that of the maid for a few beats, and he looked away first, deciding that ignoring that little situation was really only the appropriate thing to do as he refocused on his bride, raising a toast to her before she returned the favour and he took a large sip of wine.
Amongst those guests that had gathered, Achilleas was glad to find his cousin Princess Xene standing with Lady Evangelina, and he caught the latter’s eyes upon him, tipped his glass toward her briefly before his attention was swallowed up by somebody stopping to offer congratulations. It was more than a little overwhelming, and Achilleas found himself caught in a cycle of well wishes from everyone to minor lords whose names he had to remind himself so he could ask after their families, to members of his own.
When the Head of House Dimitrou approached, the groom received the congratulations with a gracious inclination of his head. He had a new kind of appreciation for the taciturn Lord Gavriil since their conversation a few days prior, and his smile was warm and genuine as he looked upon the man. “My thanks, Lord Gavriil. Indeed I count myself as blessed.”
He lifted his chalice in return, not surprised when the older man melted away to find a quieter spot. He almost wished he could do the same, but no sooner had Lord Gavriil stepped away than his place was filled with another and Achilleas’ face ached from smiling, and his attempts to find original ways to accept all of the toasts and good wishes soon fell by the wayside in favour of a rote response. Indeed, when Theodora turned to press a kiss to his cheek and left him alone, he could not begrudge her wanting to escape, and watched her go a moment, taking a sip of wine from his cup that he realised did not seem to be going down at all. The servers were too efficient, and he would have watch that lest it go to his head.
There was a rare moment of respite before someone clasped his shoulder and Achilleas turned to find Krysto at his side, the Captain smiling broadly. “Have you misplaced your bride already your highness?” the dark haired man asked, pulling back to sketch a bow towards his Commander. Achilleas gave him a look, but felt some of the tension bleed out of his shoulders for here was someone who he did not have to impress at least.
“On the contrary, I think she saw you coming and beat a hasty retreat” he replied, looking over the tops of people’s heads to find where Theodora had gotten to. He found her by the tables, out of the heat of the sun, and what he saw then had him still. Why was Briseis talking to Theodora? Could she not just give her a wide berth? Was it too much to ask? His gaze narrowed a little, and Krysto followed his eyeline, a muted ‘Aaah’ of understanding as he noted what had the Prince looking so unhappy.
“Would you like me to go and stage an interruption?” he asked in an undertone, and Achilleas shot him a grateful look. Krysto was one of the only people who knew of the unfortunate mess he’d gotten himself into, and he didn’t have to answer, the soldier already moving off, only pausing to murmur a “and for Hera’s sake stop glowering. It’s your wedding day. You’re happy. I’ll deal with it”. The Captain made a direct line to where he could see the new Princess, intending to call Briseis away to fill his own cup which he was busy draining in preparation. The things one did for duty.
For his part, Achilleas smoothed his expression almost immediately, aware again that there would be eyes upon him this day and he did not need to fan any flames of gossip. He chose that moment to turn and greet one of the Mikaelidas Varonos, trying to ignore whatever Krysto was doing. He trusted the man to prevent anything untoward happening.
The squeeze of Theodora’s hand around his own took Achilleas by surprise. He was so used to weathering his father’s unique forms of encouragement, whilst everyone else saw only his charming public persona that he didn’t know quite how to handle the fact that she had noticed. Sliding his gaze toward her, the Crown Prince - for how could he possibly forget- returned her smile, allowing her to distract him from that brief moment of discord.
This was how it would be now- he and Theodora together, against whatever whatever the fates decided to throw at them. It was heartening, and enough to see him to set aside thoughts of all else as they were bounced from family to family for well wishes, and then finally escaped to the carriage which was fast becoming Achilleas’ favoured location of the day. And whilst the fantasy of escaping the feast to follow held momentary appeal, he laughed at the idea of the chaos that would ensue, gave a resigned sort of sigh because one thing he knew all about was the importance of duty before his own desires.
The gardens of the Mikaelidas manor had been dressed for the occasion, no doubt with almost as much care as the Bride and Groom themselves, and there was no doubt that there was a celebration being held. Achilleas found a little appreciation then, for all the work that had gone into it, even though it had pained him in the days running up to the event.
Everything was...perfect. Almost. Because the sight of Briseis amongst those servants gathered to receive the guests had more than a twinge of discomfort about it, particularly when he noted that she wore the gift he had sent her, despite how out of place it looked. What was he supposed to make of that? Some - admittedly stupid- sign that he was forgiven, or something else? His gaze met that of the maid for a few beats, and he looked away first, deciding that ignoring that little situation was really only the appropriate thing to do as he refocused on his bride, raising a toast to her before she returned the favour and he took a large sip of wine.
Amongst those guests that had gathered, Achilleas was glad to find his cousin Princess Xene standing with Lady Evangelina, and he caught the latter’s eyes upon him, tipped his glass toward her briefly before his attention was swallowed up by somebody stopping to offer congratulations. It was more than a little overwhelming, and Achilleas found himself caught in a cycle of well wishes from everyone to minor lords whose names he had to remind himself so he could ask after their families, to members of his own.
When the Head of House Dimitrou approached, the groom received the congratulations with a gracious inclination of his head. He had a new kind of appreciation for the taciturn Lord Gavriil since their conversation a few days prior, and his smile was warm and genuine as he looked upon the man. “My thanks, Lord Gavriil. Indeed I count myself as blessed.”
He lifted his chalice in return, not surprised when the older man melted away to find a quieter spot. He almost wished he could do the same, but no sooner had Lord Gavriil stepped away than his place was filled with another and Achilleas’ face ached from smiling, and his attempts to find original ways to accept all of the toasts and good wishes soon fell by the wayside in favour of a rote response. Indeed, when Theodora turned to press a kiss to his cheek and left him alone, he could not begrudge her wanting to escape, and watched her go a moment, taking a sip of wine from his cup that he realised did not seem to be going down at all. The servers were too efficient, and he would have watch that lest it go to his head.
There was a rare moment of respite before someone clasped his shoulder and Achilleas turned to find Krysto at his side, the Captain smiling broadly. “Have you misplaced your bride already your highness?” the dark haired man asked, pulling back to sketch a bow towards his Commander. Achilleas gave him a look, but felt some of the tension bleed out of his shoulders for here was someone who he did not have to impress at least.
“On the contrary, I think she saw you coming and beat a hasty retreat” he replied, looking over the tops of people’s heads to find where Theodora had gotten to. He found her by the tables, out of the heat of the sun, and what he saw then had him still. Why was Briseis talking to Theodora? Could she not just give her a wide berth? Was it too much to ask? His gaze narrowed a little, and Krysto followed his eyeline, a muted ‘Aaah’ of understanding as he noted what had the Prince looking so unhappy.
“Would you like me to go and stage an interruption?” he asked in an undertone, and Achilleas shot him a grateful look. Krysto was one of the only people who knew of the unfortunate mess he’d gotten himself into, and he didn’t have to answer, the soldier already moving off, only pausing to murmur a “and for Hera’s sake stop glowering. It’s your wedding day. You’re happy. I’ll deal with it”. The Captain made a direct line to where he could see the new Princess, intending to call Briseis away to fill his own cup which he was busy draining in preparation. The things one did for duty.
For his part, Achilleas smoothed his expression almost immediately, aware again that there would be eyes upon him this day and he did not need to fan any flames of gossip. He chose that moment to turn and greet one of the Mikaelidas Varonos, trying to ignore whatever Krysto was doing. He trusted the man to prevent anything untoward happening.
He bowed again at the princess when she thanked him. Depending on where you were, flatter would lead you nowhere, or send you far… but he didn’t compliment her for such reason. He did so because she was indeed beautiful, and because it was never too much to compliment a beautiful lady, no matter her social position. And Xene was truly worth the compliments.
When the newlyweds appeared, Hesiodos didn’t bow – he was the musician, after all, so he had to keep playing at all times while he followed them and played beautiful music on his lyre. He wasn’t offered any wine, though, because he was playing and had his hands full anyway, so he made sure to drink just enough beforehand. Of course, he was always where the ‘action’ was.
He made his role well, though his eyes didn’t miss the beautiful face of Basilides. He gave him a knowing look as he spoke with Xene, and couldn’t help but chuckle at his description of himself, “You do nothing but flatter me, Basilides. But rest assured that the princess is right; I’m only in my best behavior today…”, he made a dramatic plucking of his lyre, “…Unless mischief is in order. Some is always amusing, isn’t it?”
He offered the thespian a smirk, flexing his fingers, “Oh, now that you mention it… I do have one I wrote just for the occasion…”, he proceeded to clear his throat and began to pluck and strum masterfully, and then began to sing, using a melodic voice fit for a hymn, for everyone to hear:
“Two hearts beating as one Two souls intertwined As beautiful as silken spun And as strong as the wind Some say it’s a test Some raise their brows I know they are blessed As they said their vows The blushing bride The handsome groom Smiles are wide As they walk into the room”
And when he said the last words and the last pluck of his lyre, he took a theatrical bow, the ones he did after songs. He then offered both Xene and Bas a charismatic smile. But his eyes spotted someone… ahh, it’s been a long while since he saw the Crown Prince. He still remembered that particular time they meet each other… he looked handsome, though, so he naturally decided to go pester him. He turned as Bas and said, “I’ll be back. You have fun, and try to not to miss me too much”, he said with a wink before walking at a leisure pace towards Achilleas.
He stood at his side with a smile, waiting for him to notice him; and waiting to see the expression of his face, “Are you having fun, my lord?”
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He bowed again at the princess when she thanked him. Depending on where you were, flatter would lead you nowhere, or send you far… but he didn’t compliment her for such reason. He did so because she was indeed beautiful, and because it was never too much to compliment a beautiful lady, no matter her social position. And Xene was truly worth the compliments.
When the newlyweds appeared, Hesiodos didn’t bow – he was the musician, after all, so he had to keep playing at all times while he followed them and played beautiful music on his lyre. He wasn’t offered any wine, though, because he was playing and had his hands full anyway, so he made sure to drink just enough beforehand. Of course, he was always where the ‘action’ was.
He made his role well, though his eyes didn’t miss the beautiful face of Basilides. He gave him a knowing look as he spoke with Xene, and couldn’t help but chuckle at his description of himself, “You do nothing but flatter me, Basilides. But rest assured that the princess is right; I’m only in my best behavior today…”, he made a dramatic plucking of his lyre, “…Unless mischief is in order. Some is always amusing, isn’t it?”
He offered the thespian a smirk, flexing his fingers, “Oh, now that you mention it… I do have one I wrote just for the occasion…”, he proceeded to clear his throat and began to pluck and strum masterfully, and then began to sing, using a melodic voice fit for a hymn, for everyone to hear:
“Two hearts beating as one Two souls intertwined As beautiful as silken spun And as strong as the wind Some say it’s a test Some raise their brows I know they are blessed As they said their vows The blushing bride The handsome groom Smiles are wide As they walk into the room”
And when he said the last words and the last pluck of his lyre, he took a theatrical bow, the ones he did after songs. He then offered both Xene and Bas a charismatic smile. But his eyes spotted someone… ahh, it’s been a long while since he saw the Crown Prince. He still remembered that particular time they meet each other… he looked handsome, though, so he naturally decided to go pester him. He turned as Bas and said, “I’ll be back. You have fun, and try to not to miss me too much”, he said with a wink before walking at a leisure pace towards Achilleas.
He stood at his side with a smile, waiting for him to notice him; and waiting to see the expression of his face, “Are you having fun, my lord?”
He bowed again at the princess when she thanked him. Depending on where you were, flatter would lead you nowhere, or send you far… but he didn’t compliment her for such reason. He did so because she was indeed beautiful, and because it was never too much to compliment a beautiful lady, no matter her social position. And Xene was truly worth the compliments.
When the newlyweds appeared, Hesiodos didn’t bow – he was the musician, after all, so he had to keep playing at all times while he followed them and played beautiful music on his lyre. He wasn’t offered any wine, though, because he was playing and had his hands full anyway, so he made sure to drink just enough beforehand. Of course, he was always where the ‘action’ was.
He made his role well, though his eyes didn’t miss the beautiful face of Basilides. He gave him a knowing look as he spoke with Xene, and couldn’t help but chuckle at his description of himself, “You do nothing but flatter me, Basilides. But rest assured that the princess is right; I’m only in my best behavior today…”, he made a dramatic plucking of his lyre, “…Unless mischief is in order. Some is always amusing, isn’t it?”
He offered the thespian a smirk, flexing his fingers, “Oh, now that you mention it… I do have one I wrote just for the occasion…”, he proceeded to clear his throat and began to pluck and strum masterfully, and then began to sing, using a melodic voice fit for a hymn, for everyone to hear:
“Two hearts beating as one Two souls intertwined As beautiful as silken spun And as strong as the wind Some say it’s a test Some raise their brows I know they are blessed As they said their vows The blushing bride The handsome groom Smiles are wide As they walk into the room”
And when he said the last words and the last pluck of his lyre, he took a theatrical bow, the ones he did after songs. He then offered both Xene and Bas a charismatic smile. But his eyes spotted someone… ahh, it’s been a long while since he saw the Crown Prince. He still remembered that particular time they meet each other… he looked handsome, though, so he naturally decided to go pester him. He turned as Bas and said, “I’ll be back. You have fun, and try to not to miss me too much”, he said with a wink before walking at a leisure pace towards Achilleas.
He stood at his side with a smile, waiting for him to notice him; and waiting to see the expression of his face, “Are you having fun, my lord?”
Lifting the chalice of wine to her lips, she took a sip of the full-bodied red wine. It was a sweet thought to think that the Gods tested the wedding to bring about fortune, but Evangelina suspected that two mortals were quite enough to create their share of trials and tribulations for a single marriage. Probably enough trials and tribulations to last an entire lifetime not just the span of a marriage if one wanted to be rather forward about the extent of trouble that humans could cause on their own.
Shifting her gaze from the newly married couple to Lord Gavriil’s reappearance next to the couple her mind drifted on to her own thoughts absently listening to her companion who seemed equally distracted. Yes. Yes, it did seem everyone was getting married. Dropping her gaze back to her cup of wine she stared down at it as if hoping to find some sort of answers to all of her questions within the murky red liquor.
At the Princess’ sigh and reply, she offered a faint smile as she glanced up at her. It was a distinct possibility that the fact that everyone they knew was getting married was a blessing rather than a curse. Their little country had been through so much in the past year, maybe it was a good sign that everyone was making some attempt to move on and resume life as best as was possible. It’d definitely brought a great many things into perspective for Evie.
Catching the corner of her lip between her teeth she nibbled on it and let her dark eyes sweep over the guests again and finding they were briefly met with a familiar pair of stormy blue ones that belonged to none other than Lord Gavriil. The tiny hairs on her arm pricked and she felt herself offer him a smile before he started towards the Princess and herself.
This wasn’t exactly how she’d planned on attempting to stun him at this reception. She’d pictured them being alone and the full effect of her dress not to be overshadowed by the arresting blonde princess who was quite the picture of grace and charm. Lifting the wine to her lips she took another small sip offering him a private smile as he settled into the little group.
Evangelina dropped into a respectful courtesy as best as she could in the lavender and lace concoction she was wearing. There wasn’t much of a doubt she might have foregone that had it just been the two of them… but with the eyes of society upon everyone, she’d play the part of a civilized Leventi.
“Lord Dimitrou,” She greeted, tilting her head so her warm eyes looked up at him and a small dimpled smile formed on her lips.
‘Quite the wedding.’ He offered. Evangelina’s gaze flickered around the at the decorations and guests and almost smiled again, but didn’t say anything as Princess Xene spoke up. ‘I am pleased to see you, Lord Dimitrou.’ The blonde princess smiled prettily at Lord Gavriil, and the first stabs of possessiveness formed in the little Leventi’s chest. Raising the glass to her lips, she took another small sip. Get a grip on yourself, she admonished to herself silently. ‘Though you appear as if you are quite out of your element.’ Darting a glance over to Lord Gavriil, her eyebrow raised only faintly at him. Princess Xene leaned forward toward him, almost conspiratorially, ‘Don’t worry. I feel quite the same.’ The lovely princess had found her footing again and whatever melancholy thoughts that had plagued her earlier had vanished. It was only by some small miracle that Evangelina’s brown eyes had not changed to a ravishing shade of green.
Choosing to remain quiet, it was rather by chance that they were now upon the bard and Basilides. The latter greeting them first with a bow, he teased about his dear friend being a scoundrel but a talented musician. Evangelina smiled first to Basilides, whom she didn’t know as well as her cousins, and then to Hesiodos again. "Basilides. Hesiodos." She offered in return.
‘Are there any special tunes you have penned for the occasion?’ Basilides spoke to Hesiodos and Evangelina took a moment to glance sideways at Lord Gavriil curiously. This didn’t really seem like his crowd, but then again… it wasn’t her’s either really. Just behind Lord Gavriil, she noted that her cousin had quite left her new husband in the lurch… no doubt to mingle. The good Captain Krysto had stepped in to keep the new crowned prince company. ‘Lord Dimitrou, Lady Evangelina.’ Princess Gianna brought her back from her wondering what mischief the Prince and his Captain were up too.
“Princess Gianna, you look lovely this evening.” Evangelina dipped into a curtsy, and she offered her a smile as she watched her loop an arm through her sisters and easily fall into conversation. Sidestepping a little closer to Lord Gavriil to make a bit of room for the cluster. Taking another sip of her wine, the little group was getting too large for her maybe this was her chance to steal away for a few moments. Darting a curious look up to Lord Gavriil, was he ready to leave the little group too?
It seemed she wasn't the only one of that thought as Hesiodos bade his goodbye, she offered him a smile before she spoke as well.
“I should probably check in on my brother too. I can’t quite imagine he doesn’t have some sort of mischief planned for this evening. If you’ll excuse me,” She said her goodbyes to the group with a smile and lingering just a fraction of a second longer in her glance at Lord Gavriil before she stepped away from the large group and glanced about on which direction to go first.
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Lifting the chalice of wine to her lips, she took a sip of the full-bodied red wine. It was a sweet thought to think that the Gods tested the wedding to bring about fortune, but Evangelina suspected that two mortals were quite enough to create their share of trials and tribulations for a single marriage. Probably enough trials and tribulations to last an entire lifetime not just the span of a marriage if one wanted to be rather forward about the extent of trouble that humans could cause on their own.
Shifting her gaze from the newly married couple to Lord Gavriil’s reappearance next to the couple her mind drifted on to her own thoughts absently listening to her companion who seemed equally distracted. Yes. Yes, it did seem everyone was getting married. Dropping her gaze back to her cup of wine she stared down at it as if hoping to find some sort of answers to all of her questions within the murky red liquor.
At the Princess’ sigh and reply, she offered a faint smile as she glanced up at her. It was a distinct possibility that the fact that everyone they knew was getting married was a blessing rather than a curse. Their little country had been through so much in the past year, maybe it was a good sign that everyone was making some attempt to move on and resume life as best as was possible. It’d definitely brought a great many things into perspective for Evie.
Catching the corner of her lip between her teeth she nibbled on it and let her dark eyes sweep over the guests again and finding they were briefly met with a familiar pair of stormy blue ones that belonged to none other than Lord Gavriil. The tiny hairs on her arm pricked and she felt herself offer him a smile before he started towards the Princess and herself.
This wasn’t exactly how she’d planned on attempting to stun him at this reception. She’d pictured them being alone and the full effect of her dress not to be overshadowed by the arresting blonde princess who was quite the picture of grace and charm. Lifting the wine to her lips she took another small sip offering him a private smile as he settled into the little group.
Evangelina dropped into a respectful courtesy as best as she could in the lavender and lace concoction she was wearing. There wasn’t much of a doubt she might have foregone that had it just been the two of them… but with the eyes of society upon everyone, she’d play the part of a civilized Leventi.
“Lord Dimitrou,” She greeted, tilting her head so her warm eyes looked up at him and a small dimpled smile formed on her lips.
‘Quite the wedding.’ He offered. Evangelina’s gaze flickered around the at the decorations and guests and almost smiled again, but didn’t say anything as Princess Xene spoke up. ‘I am pleased to see you, Lord Dimitrou.’ The blonde princess smiled prettily at Lord Gavriil, and the first stabs of possessiveness formed in the little Leventi’s chest. Raising the glass to her lips, she took another small sip. Get a grip on yourself, she admonished to herself silently. ‘Though you appear as if you are quite out of your element.’ Darting a glance over to Lord Gavriil, her eyebrow raised only faintly at him. Princess Xene leaned forward toward him, almost conspiratorially, ‘Don’t worry. I feel quite the same.’ The lovely princess had found her footing again and whatever melancholy thoughts that had plagued her earlier had vanished. It was only by some small miracle that Evangelina’s brown eyes had not changed to a ravishing shade of green.
Choosing to remain quiet, it was rather by chance that they were now upon the bard and Basilides. The latter greeting them first with a bow, he teased about his dear friend being a scoundrel but a talented musician. Evangelina smiled first to Basilides, whom she didn’t know as well as her cousins, and then to Hesiodos again. "Basilides. Hesiodos." She offered in return.
‘Are there any special tunes you have penned for the occasion?’ Basilides spoke to Hesiodos and Evangelina took a moment to glance sideways at Lord Gavriil curiously. This didn’t really seem like his crowd, but then again… it wasn’t her’s either really. Just behind Lord Gavriil, she noted that her cousin had quite left her new husband in the lurch… no doubt to mingle. The good Captain Krysto had stepped in to keep the new crowned prince company. ‘Lord Dimitrou, Lady Evangelina.’ Princess Gianna brought her back from her wondering what mischief the Prince and his Captain were up too.
“Princess Gianna, you look lovely this evening.” Evangelina dipped into a curtsy, and she offered her a smile as she watched her loop an arm through her sisters and easily fall into conversation. Sidestepping a little closer to Lord Gavriil to make a bit of room for the cluster. Taking another sip of her wine, the little group was getting too large for her maybe this was her chance to steal away for a few moments. Darting a curious look up to Lord Gavriil, was he ready to leave the little group too?
It seemed she wasn't the only one of that thought as Hesiodos bade his goodbye, she offered him a smile before she spoke as well.
“I should probably check in on my brother too. I can’t quite imagine he doesn’t have some sort of mischief planned for this evening. If you’ll excuse me,” She said her goodbyes to the group with a smile and lingering just a fraction of a second longer in her glance at Lord Gavriil before she stepped away from the large group and glanced about on which direction to go first.
Lifting the chalice of wine to her lips, she took a sip of the full-bodied red wine. It was a sweet thought to think that the Gods tested the wedding to bring about fortune, but Evangelina suspected that two mortals were quite enough to create their share of trials and tribulations for a single marriage. Probably enough trials and tribulations to last an entire lifetime not just the span of a marriage if one wanted to be rather forward about the extent of trouble that humans could cause on their own.
Shifting her gaze from the newly married couple to Lord Gavriil’s reappearance next to the couple her mind drifted on to her own thoughts absently listening to her companion who seemed equally distracted. Yes. Yes, it did seem everyone was getting married. Dropping her gaze back to her cup of wine she stared down at it as if hoping to find some sort of answers to all of her questions within the murky red liquor.
At the Princess’ sigh and reply, she offered a faint smile as she glanced up at her. It was a distinct possibility that the fact that everyone they knew was getting married was a blessing rather than a curse. Their little country had been through so much in the past year, maybe it was a good sign that everyone was making some attempt to move on and resume life as best as was possible. It’d definitely brought a great many things into perspective for Evie.
Catching the corner of her lip between her teeth she nibbled on it and let her dark eyes sweep over the guests again and finding they were briefly met with a familiar pair of stormy blue ones that belonged to none other than Lord Gavriil. The tiny hairs on her arm pricked and she felt herself offer him a smile before he started towards the Princess and herself.
This wasn’t exactly how she’d planned on attempting to stun him at this reception. She’d pictured them being alone and the full effect of her dress not to be overshadowed by the arresting blonde princess who was quite the picture of grace and charm. Lifting the wine to her lips she took another small sip offering him a private smile as he settled into the little group.
Evangelina dropped into a respectful courtesy as best as she could in the lavender and lace concoction she was wearing. There wasn’t much of a doubt she might have foregone that had it just been the two of them… but with the eyes of society upon everyone, she’d play the part of a civilized Leventi.
“Lord Dimitrou,” She greeted, tilting her head so her warm eyes looked up at him and a small dimpled smile formed on her lips.
‘Quite the wedding.’ He offered. Evangelina’s gaze flickered around the at the decorations and guests and almost smiled again, but didn’t say anything as Princess Xene spoke up. ‘I am pleased to see you, Lord Dimitrou.’ The blonde princess smiled prettily at Lord Gavriil, and the first stabs of possessiveness formed in the little Leventi’s chest. Raising the glass to her lips, she took another small sip. Get a grip on yourself, she admonished to herself silently. ‘Though you appear as if you are quite out of your element.’ Darting a glance over to Lord Gavriil, her eyebrow raised only faintly at him. Princess Xene leaned forward toward him, almost conspiratorially, ‘Don’t worry. I feel quite the same.’ The lovely princess had found her footing again and whatever melancholy thoughts that had plagued her earlier had vanished. It was only by some small miracle that Evangelina’s brown eyes had not changed to a ravishing shade of green.
Choosing to remain quiet, it was rather by chance that they were now upon the bard and Basilides. The latter greeting them first with a bow, he teased about his dear friend being a scoundrel but a talented musician. Evangelina smiled first to Basilides, whom she didn’t know as well as her cousins, and then to Hesiodos again. "Basilides. Hesiodos." She offered in return.
‘Are there any special tunes you have penned for the occasion?’ Basilides spoke to Hesiodos and Evangelina took a moment to glance sideways at Lord Gavriil curiously. This didn’t really seem like his crowd, but then again… it wasn’t her’s either really. Just behind Lord Gavriil, she noted that her cousin had quite left her new husband in the lurch… no doubt to mingle. The good Captain Krysto had stepped in to keep the new crowned prince company. ‘Lord Dimitrou, Lady Evangelina.’ Princess Gianna brought her back from her wondering what mischief the Prince and his Captain were up too.
“Princess Gianna, you look lovely this evening.” Evangelina dipped into a curtsy, and she offered her a smile as she watched her loop an arm through her sisters and easily fall into conversation. Sidestepping a little closer to Lord Gavriil to make a bit of room for the cluster. Taking another sip of her wine, the little group was getting too large for her maybe this was her chance to steal away for a few moments. Darting a curious look up to Lord Gavriil, was he ready to leave the little group too?
It seemed she wasn't the only one of that thought as Hesiodos bade his goodbye, she offered him a smile before she spoke as well.
“I should probably check in on my brother too. I can’t quite imagine he doesn’t have some sort of mischief planned for this evening. If you’ll excuse me,” She said her goodbyes to the group with a smile and lingering just a fraction of a second longer in her glance at Lord Gavriil before she stepped away from the large group and glanced about on which direction to go first.
The ceremonial rituals had been beautiful, then again, Eirini had always found beauty in the charade no matter how simplistic or grand the affair may have been. Perhaps she was getting sentimental in her age, for once she had glanced upon love and matrimony with a cynical glimmer and she certainly never equated one with the other... until she married Fotios that was. And that was the very root of her affinity with weddings, Eirini discovered, they evoked the same sentiments she had felt upon her own wedding day.
Frequently, thereafter, Eirini had spared glances towards Fotios, her lips slightly upturned as the residual coquettish simper took hold. Had their circumstances not required silence, she may have hummed in delight as the warmth of her husbands hand pressed against her back, the soothing circles against her skin an unspoken acknowledgment to the shared memory.
As she gazed upon the couple below, she pondered briefly their future together. Would the gods bless them with children? Would they find some happiness? Eirini thought the latter unlikely, especially considering the brides current infatuation with brother of her new husband, yet time would only tell what would become of the pair before them.
With the conclusion of the ceremony, Eirini joined the throngs of people looking forward to partaking in the true celebrations and if there was one thing she knew, that was Meena knew how to host the festivities. A chalice of wine already within her hand, she beamed as Irakles kissed her cheeks, welcoming them to the family and the weight of the words were not lost on her, nor their importance... her husbands excitement served as a testament to that.
"How right you are, husband... it would be a shame not to partake in such a magnificent banquet." With a final glance towards the couple, she moved with her husbands direction, helping herself to the nibbles upon offer. "I do believe they will be very happy together, and bless the kingdom with many children." One could only pray that Theodora was more fortunate than the rest of the Leventi women when it came to bearing heirs. "Perhaps we could toast, my king? To the happy couple and to the glorious futures of our families?" She suggested to Irakles, though her gaze fell back to Fotios, her eyes following the trail of his own.
Though there was no change to her countenance, her eyes did darken as they fell upon Xene and her gaze lingered a moment longer, before demanding Fotios' attention once more with a light touch to his bicep. "Don't you agree, husband?"
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The ceremonial rituals had been beautiful, then again, Eirini had always found beauty in the charade no matter how simplistic or grand the affair may have been. Perhaps she was getting sentimental in her age, for once she had glanced upon love and matrimony with a cynical glimmer and she certainly never equated one with the other... until she married Fotios that was. And that was the very root of her affinity with weddings, Eirini discovered, they evoked the same sentiments she had felt upon her own wedding day.
Frequently, thereafter, Eirini had spared glances towards Fotios, her lips slightly upturned as the residual coquettish simper took hold. Had their circumstances not required silence, she may have hummed in delight as the warmth of her husbands hand pressed against her back, the soothing circles against her skin an unspoken acknowledgment to the shared memory.
As she gazed upon the couple below, she pondered briefly their future together. Would the gods bless them with children? Would they find some happiness? Eirini thought the latter unlikely, especially considering the brides current infatuation with brother of her new husband, yet time would only tell what would become of the pair before them.
With the conclusion of the ceremony, Eirini joined the throngs of people looking forward to partaking in the true celebrations and if there was one thing she knew, that was Meena knew how to host the festivities. A chalice of wine already within her hand, she beamed as Irakles kissed her cheeks, welcoming them to the family and the weight of the words were not lost on her, nor their importance... her husbands excitement served as a testament to that.
"How right you are, husband... it would be a shame not to partake in such a magnificent banquet." With a final glance towards the couple, she moved with her husbands direction, helping herself to the nibbles upon offer. "I do believe they will be very happy together, and bless the kingdom with many children." One could only pray that Theodora was more fortunate than the rest of the Leventi women when it came to bearing heirs. "Perhaps we could toast, my king? To the happy couple and to the glorious futures of our families?" She suggested to Irakles, though her gaze fell back to Fotios, her eyes following the trail of his own.
Though there was no change to her countenance, her eyes did darken as they fell upon Xene and her gaze lingered a moment longer, before demanding Fotios' attention once more with a light touch to his bicep. "Don't you agree, husband?"
The ceremonial rituals had been beautiful, then again, Eirini had always found beauty in the charade no matter how simplistic or grand the affair may have been. Perhaps she was getting sentimental in her age, for once she had glanced upon love and matrimony with a cynical glimmer and she certainly never equated one with the other... until she married Fotios that was. And that was the very root of her affinity with weddings, Eirini discovered, they evoked the same sentiments she had felt upon her own wedding day.
Frequently, thereafter, Eirini had spared glances towards Fotios, her lips slightly upturned as the residual coquettish simper took hold. Had their circumstances not required silence, she may have hummed in delight as the warmth of her husbands hand pressed against her back, the soothing circles against her skin an unspoken acknowledgment to the shared memory.
As she gazed upon the couple below, she pondered briefly their future together. Would the gods bless them with children? Would they find some happiness? Eirini thought the latter unlikely, especially considering the brides current infatuation with brother of her new husband, yet time would only tell what would become of the pair before them.
With the conclusion of the ceremony, Eirini joined the throngs of people looking forward to partaking in the true celebrations and if there was one thing she knew, that was Meena knew how to host the festivities. A chalice of wine already within her hand, she beamed as Irakles kissed her cheeks, welcoming them to the family and the weight of the words were not lost on her, nor their importance... her husbands excitement served as a testament to that.
"How right you are, husband... it would be a shame not to partake in such a magnificent banquet." With a final glance towards the couple, she moved with her husbands direction, helping herself to the nibbles upon offer. "I do believe they will be very happy together, and bless the kingdom with many children." One could only pray that Theodora was more fortunate than the rest of the Leventi women when it came to bearing heirs. "Perhaps we could toast, my king? To the happy couple and to the glorious futures of our families?" She suggested to Irakles, though her gaze fell back to Fotios, her eyes following the trail of his own.
Though there was no change to her countenance, her eyes did darken as they fell upon Xene and her gaze lingered a moment longer, before demanding Fotios' attention once more with a light touch to his bicep. "Don't you agree, husband?"
He longed for something other than this. He didn’t want to be here, with his father’s disappointing glance at his antics. Emilios had done what was requested of him-- he kept his mouth shut for the ceremony, had kept close to his mother and hadn’t ran a knife through Achilleas to steal his bride. And, if he was being completely honest with himself, he’d only avoided that because he wanted nothing to do with the title of Crown Prince. It was bad enough he was so close to wearing the crown as it was. He never wanted to rule, probably less so than Stephanos ever did.
His bitterness was making him consider murder as a viable option-- he needed to get ahold of himself.
Sitting close to his mother on the ride back, he focused on the road, on the way the wheels sounded against the dirt as the moved. It was safer to look at that then to focus on who rode ahead of them. His brother and the wife he wanted. The wife he should have had. A wife that would never be his.
The arrived to the party, and Emilios wasn’t at all surprised by the amount of time and effort that had been put into the celebration-- after all, he’d been the one who had seen to most of it. He had arranged from most of the details, as had been his duty. And now, he was supposed to sit back and enjoy it, like his father had every intention of doing. Mytro placed a hand on his shoulder as the group seemed to disperse into the party. He was certain that she was going to disappear into the house, for he was certain that his father’s mistress was around somewhere and she didn’t want to have to see her.
He never thought it would see himself turning into his mother-- his father, maybe. A man who could love more than one woman at a time, who could demand more. But not the jilted woman hiding from the happy couple. Not the one who got left behind.
He downed a cup of wine at that thought.
Grabbing a second, he worked his way through the party. As people stopped him, he made the needed small talk. Yes, it was blessed by the Gods. Yes, it was a beautiful ceremony. No, he hadn’t heard from Stephanos. Yes, he was glad that there seemed to be stability now. Lie after lie, all disguised by a smile. It got a bit easier as it went, although he would never be able to be happy for his brother and his new wife. But he didn’t have to give her up just yet.
They were married. And he still wanted her.
He spotted her from across the room, and if her mother hadn’t approached her first, Emilios knew his feet would have carried him to her side. He hesitated, watching them with curiosity. Strange that the mother of the bride appeared to be taking her leave just as the fun was getting underway. Why would she leave now? As soon as she was away from Theo’s side, Emilios moved in.
There was no stopping his actions.
”Your mother isn’t going to stay? Pity, she’s usually the life of all the parties.” He said with a smile, unable to deny how pleasant it was to be this close to her again. ”Is she feeling ill? Would you like me to escort her home?” He was trying to be polite, ”That’s what brother’s do, isn’t it? Offer to take a family member home when they aren’t feeling well?” He reached out, gently adjusted the strap of her dress to put it back into place.
He ignored the servant, allowing her to do her job.
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He longed for something other than this. He didn’t want to be here, with his father’s disappointing glance at his antics. Emilios had done what was requested of him-- he kept his mouth shut for the ceremony, had kept close to his mother and hadn’t ran a knife through Achilleas to steal his bride. And, if he was being completely honest with himself, he’d only avoided that because he wanted nothing to do with the title of Crown Prince. It was bad enough he was so close to wearing the crown as it was. He never wanted to rule, probably less so than Stephanos ever did.
His bitterness was making him consider murder as a viable option-- he needed to get ahold of himself.
Sitting close to his mother on the ride back, he focused on the road, on the way the wheels sounded against the dirt as the moved. It was safer to look at that then to focus on who rode ahead of them. His brother and the wife he wanted. The wife he should have had. A wife that would never be his.
The arrived to the party, and Emilios wasn’t at all surprised by the amount of time and effort that had been put into the celebration-- after all, he’d been the one who had seen to most of it. He had arranged from most of the details, as had been his duty. And now, he was supposed to sit back and enjoy it, like his father had every intention of doing. Mytro placed a hand on his shoulder as the group seemed to disperse into the party. He was certain that she was going to disappear into the house, for he was certain that his father’s mistress was around somewhere and she didn’t want to have to see her.
He never thought it would see himself turning into his mother-- his father, maybe. A man who could love more than one woman at a time, who could demand more. But not the jilted woman hiding from the happy couple. Not the one who got left behind.
He downed a cup of wine at that thought.
Grabbing a second, he worked his way through the party. As people stopped him, he made the needed small talk. Yes, it was blessed by the Gods. Yes, it was a beautiful ceremony. No, he hadn’t heard from Stephanos. Yes, he was glad that there seemed to be stability now. Lie after lie, all disguised by a smile. It got a bit easier as it went, although he would never be able to be happy for his brother and his new wife. But he didn’t have to give her up just yet.
They were married. And he still wanted her.
He spotted her from across the room, and if her mother hadn’t approached her first, Emilios knew his feet would have carried him to her side. He hesitated, watching them with curiosity. Strange that the mother of the bride appeared to be taking her leave just as the fun was getting underway. Why would she leave now? As soon as she was away from Theo’s side, Emilios moved in.
There was no stopping his actions.
”Your mother isn’t going to stay? Pity, she’s usually the life of all the parties.” He said with a smile, unable to deny how pleasant it was to be this close to her again. ”Is she feeling ill? Would you like me to escort her home?” He was trying to be polite, ”That’s what brother’s do, isn’t it? Offer to take a family member home when they aren’t feeling well?” He reached out, gently adjusted the strap of her dress to put it back into place.
He ignored the servant, allowing her to do her job.
He longed for something other than this. He didn’t want to be here, with his father’s disappointing glance at his antics. Emilios had done what was requested of him-- he kept his mouth shut for the ceremony, had kept close to his mother and hadn’t ran a knife through Achilleas to steal his bride. And, if he was being completely honest with himself, he’d only avoided that because he wanted nothing to do with the title of Crown Prince. It was bad enough he was so close to wearing the crown as it was. He never wanted to rule, probably less so than Stephanos ever did.
His bitterness was making him consider murder as a viable option-- he needed to get ahold of himself.
Sitting close to his mother on the ride back, he focused on the road, on the way the wheels sounded against the dirt as the moved. It was safer to look at that then to focus on who rode ahead of them. His brother and the wife he wanted. The wife he should have had. A wife that would never be his.
The arrived to the party, and Emilios wasn’t at all surprised by the amount of time and effort that had been put into the celebration-- after all, he’d been the one who had seen to most of it. He had arranged from most of the details, as had been his duty. And now, he was supposed to sit back and enjoy it, like his father had every intention of doing. Mytro placed a hand on his shoulder as the group seemed to disperse into the party. He was certain that she was going to disappear into the house, for he was certain that his father’s mistress was around somewhere and she didn’t want to have to see her.
He never thought it would see himself turning into his mother-- his father, maybe. A man who could love more than one woman at a time, who could demand more. But not the jilted woman hiding from the happy couple. Not the one who got left behind.
He downed a cup of wine at that thought.
Grabbing a second, he worked his way through the party. As people stopped him, he made the needed small talk. Yes, it was blessed by the Gods. Yes, it was a beautiful ceremony. No, he hadn’t heard from Stephanos. Yes, he was glad that there seemed to be stability now. Lie after lie, all disguised by a smile. It got a bit easier as it went, although he would never be able to be happy for his brother and his new wife. But he didn’t have to give her up just yet.
They were married. And he still wanted her.
He spotted her from across the room, and if her mother hadn’t approached her first, Emilios knew his feet would have carried him to her side. He hesitated, watching them with curiosity. Strange that the mother of the bride appeared to be taking her leave just as the fun was getting underway. Why would she leave now? As soon as she was away from Theo’s side, Emilios moved in.
There was no stopping his actions.
”Your mother isn’t going to stay? Pity, she’s usually the life of all the parties.” He said with a smile, unable to deny how pleasant it was to be this close to her again. ”Is she feeling ill? Would you like me to escort her home?” He was trying to be polite, ”That’s what brother’s do, isn’t it? Offer to take a family member home when they aren’t feeling well?” He reached out, gently adjusted the strap of her dress to put it back into place.
He ignored the servant, allowing her to do her job.
As his wife performed her duties to perfection, in a way that belied her common roots and proved Fotios' choice in she for his bride with every public event she attended, Fotios could only maintain a straight face and offer his devotion to her through the soft tips of his fingers, seeking bare skin wherever it could be found out of sight of other guests.
Or at least out of sight of one particular guest.
The Princess Xene, whilst lured by the concept of his touch in their letters, would not take kindly to the confusing message such a touch upon his wife would inspire. For he had made it clear to her on more than one occasion that he had supposedly fallen for Eirini's lust and beauty but was not a devout and unbidden lover in their union.
Which was only so easily believable because it was the truth. Fotios was no lover to his wife. Simple love and love making were for matrimonies like that of Achilleas and Theodora... young or shallow people that saw their lives better for being paired with another. They were each other's husband and wife; their lover for life.
In the case of Fotios, he held no wife. He was Eirini's master. And she was his Goddess. He was both commander and worshipper... but never so tawdry and simple a think as 'lover'.
With the looks of desire that the princess seemed to send across the gardens on the nearest breeze, Fotios allowed his gaze to soften, to linger, and for his lips to part as he lowered the rim of his cup from his tongue. Simply implications of desirous emotion that was hidden from those who did not look so closely.
The only one to speculate to the same level as the young princess was his wife, standing beside him and able to bear witness to each flicker of emotion and thought across his face. Her touch upon his arm and her words with specific emphasis, drew his attentions back, a slight frown upon his brow as if he had not wished to be interrupted. His words, however - words the young blonde could not hear - were in agreement.
"But of course, my love." He assured her and turned to raise his cup to the new King, and his mistress as she came to join them. "To the unity of Leventi and Mikaelidas and the future joy and fruitful lives of the happy couple." He offered, by means of a toast, before allowing Meena to draw Irakles' attention in greeting.
Taking the opportunity to turn away from the King and lean down to murmur in his wife's ear, Fotios was careful to ensure that his lips were hidden from view as they brushed against the skin of her neck with his whispered words...
"Jealousy is unbecoming but oh so delicious, wife..." He told her, the tip of his tongue darting out to touch so gently against her skin, hidden in the dark tresses of her hair. "But what if we were to turn such foundation-less envy into a game...?" He pulled back a little so that she might witness the seductive spark in his eye. His voice was low and he raised his glass to mask his lips as he spoke for her alone. "What would you command me do to you tonight in our chambers if I can successfully make the young princess... tremble. Or, perhaps, bite her lip?" He asked her, humour in his gaze. "I should surely not be the only one drawing pleasure from our plans..."
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As his wife performed her duties to perfection, in a way that belied her common roots and proved Fotios' choice in she for his bride with every public event she attended, Fotios could only maintain a straight face and offer his devotion to her through the soft tips of his fingers, seeking bare skin wherever it could be found out of sight of other guests.
Or at least out of sight of one particular guest.
The Princess Xene, whilst lured by the concept of his touch in their letters, would not take kindly to the confusing message such a touch upon his wife would inspire. For he had made it clear to her on more than one occasion that he had supposedly fallen for Eirini's lust and beauty but was not a devout and unbidden lover in their union.
Which was only so easily believable because it was the truth. Fotios was no lover to his wife. Simple love and love making were for matrimonies like that of Achilleas and Theodora... young or shallow people that saw their lives better for being paired with another. They were each other's husband and wife; their lover for life.
In the case of Fotios, he held no wife. He was Eirini's master. And she was his Goddess. He was both commander and worshipper... but never so tawdry and simple a think as 'lover'.
With the looks of desire that the princess seemed to send across the gardens on the nearest breeze, Fotios allowed his gaze to soften, to linger, and for his lips to part as he lowered the rim of his cup from his tongue. Simply implications of desirous emotion that was hidden from those who did not look so closely.
The only one to speculate to the same level as the young princess was his wife, standing beside him and able to bear witness to each flicker of emotion and thought across his face. Her touch upon his arm and her words with specific emphasis, drew his attentions back, a slight frown upon his brow as if he had not wished to be interrupted. His words, however - words the young blonde could not hear - were in agreement.
"But of course, my love." He assured her and turned to raise his cup to the new King, and his mistress as she came to join them. "To the unity of Leventi and Mikaelidas and the future joy and fruitful lives of the happy couple." He offered, by means of a toast, before allowing Meena to draw Irakles' attention in greeting.
Taking the opportunity to turn away from the King and lean down to murmur in his wife's ear, Fotios was careful to ensure that his lips were hidden from view as they brushed against the skin of her neck with his whispered words...
"Jealousy is unbecoming but oh so delicious, wife..." He told her, the tip of his tongue darting out to touch so gently against her skin, hidden in the dark tresses of her hair. "But what if we were to turn such foundation-less envy into a game...?" He pulled back a little so that she might witness the seductive spark in his eye. His voice was low and he raised his glass to mask his lips as he spoke for her alone. "What would you command me do to you tonight in our chambers if I can successfully make the young princess... tremble. Or, perhaps, bite her lip?" He asked her, humour in his gaze. "I should surely not be the only one drawing pleasure from our plans..."
As his wife performed her duties to perfection, in a way that belied her common roots and proved Fotios' choice in she for his bride with every public event she attended, Fotios could only maintain a straight face and offer his devotion to her through the soft tips of his fingers, seeking bare skin wherever it could be found out of sight of other guests.
Or at least out of sight of one particular guest.
The Princess Xene, whilst lured by the concept of his touch in their letters, would not take kindly to the confusing message such a touch upon his wife would inspire. For he had made it clear to her on more than one occasion that he had supposedly fallen for Eirini's lust and beauty but was not a devout and unbidden lover in their union.
Which was only so easily believable because it was the truth. Fotios was no lover to his wife. Simple love and love making were for matrimonies like that of Achilleas and Theodora... young or shallow people that saw their lives better for being paired with another. They were each other's husband and wife; their lover for life.
In the case of Fotios, he held no wife. He was Eirini's master. And she was his Goddess. He was both commander and worshipper... but never so tawdry and simple a think as 'lover'.
With the looks of desire that the princess seemed to send across the gardens on the nearest breeze, Fotios allowed his gaze to soften, to linger, and for his lips to part as he lowered the rim of his cup from his tongue. Simply implications of desirous emotion that was hidden from those who did not look so closely.
The only one to speculate to the same level as the young princess was his wife, standing beside him and able to bear witness to each flicker of emotion and thought across his face. Her touch upon his arm and her words with specific emphasis, drew his attentions back, a slight frown upon his brow as if he had not wished to be interrupted. His words, however - words the young blonde could not hear - were in agreement.
"But of course, my love." He assured her and turned to raise his cup to the new King, and his mistress as she came to join them. "To the unity of Leventi and Mikaelidas and the future joy and fruitful lives of the happy couple." He offered, by means of a toast, before allowing Meena to draw Irakles' attention in greeting.
Taking the opportunity to turn away from the King and lean down to murmur in his wife's ear, Fotios was careful to ensure that his lips were hidden from view as they brushed against the skin of her neck with his whispered words...
"Jealousy is unbecoming but oh so delicious, wife..." He told her, the tip of his tongue darting out to touch so gently against her skin, hidden in the dark tresses of her hair. "But what if we were to turn such foundation-less envy into a game...?" He pulled back a little so that she might witness the seductive spark in his eye. His voice was low and he raised his glass to mask his lips as he spoke for her alone. "What would you command me do to you tonight in our chambers if I can successfully make the young princess... tremble. Or, perhaps, bite her lip?" He asked her, humour in his gaze. "I should surely not be the only one drawing pleasure from our plans..."
To the outside observer, Nana of Leventi would seem as if she couldn't be happier for the newly-married couple. Yet, on the inside, Nana was just as much herself as she'd ever been. The fourth-youngest had now had to watch as two of her sisters married into royalty, and with how things seemed to be going for Selene, soon she'd have to watch again. It almost seemed to Nana as if she had been cursed by Aphrodite. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.
Though she was genuinely happy for Theo in securing a perfect match, Nana, being a creature of habit, could not help but focus on herself. Yes, the ceremony was beautiful, and yes, she may have teared up just a bit, but it took everything in her not to burst into flames as her marriage pool seemed to evaporate into thin air. Who would she marry? Emilios? Surely not, two of her sisters had already staked claims on Mikaelidas men. It simply wouldn't do to have her own sister as a sister-in-law. And with Selene's claws sunk into Prince Vangelis, it would be that much more difficult to land a Kotas prince.
Thus, Nana was in the midst of a pity party. As soon as the carriage carrying her, Imma, and her parents arrived at the Mikaelidas palati, Nana quickly slipped away in search of a drink. And what with the nature of the day, the wine was flowing. It didn't take the young Leventi long to track down a servant carrying wine, quickly grabbing a glass before heading off in search of Basilides. Seeing as she hadn't got a proper chance to chat with the man before the ceremony, she would take the opportunity now.
As the blonde squeezed through the mass of well-wishers and honored guests, Nana kept her eyes peeled for the man's dark tangle of hair, taking more time than expected, and having to have her glass filled once again during her search due to the speed in which she downed it. As she walked through the reception, she couldn't help but think that if it were her wedding, she wouldn't have settled for this. It seemed that everyone was in agreeance that Olympia's wedding was a sad, sad affair, but Nana couldn't agree that this reception was the best she'd ever been to. If it were her wedding, she would ask for much more than a simple reception. She would have a festival, with performers and parades and the like. Theo was sweet, yes, but how she could ask for so little on such an important day baffled her sister.
As she mused on the wedding itself, Nana managed to locate her target, and quickly grabbed ahold of the merchant's arm, squeezing it tightly to alert him of her presence. And, as soon as she caught a glimpse of Basilides' face, a sort of calm fell over her. It was hard to explain, but Basilides was one who she never felt the need to keep up a certain appearance for, that she could say how she was feeling, and not be judged for it. She was just about to speak to the man when she noticed who all she was standing with. Quickly dipping into a curtsy, the Leventi flashed Princesses Xene and Gianna a smile, greeting them with a quick, "Your Highnesses," bowing her head in respect to the head of House Dimitrou, "Lord Gavriil," and nodding to her cousin, "Evie... What a beautiful wedding. Theo and Prince Achilleas make such a beautiful pair..." She sipped again at her cup, not at all wanting to participate in small talk when she was in such a foul mood.
Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was her feeling of being sick of the entire day (really, who would honestly want to watch their sisters get married off while they were kept from doing so?), but Nana could not manage to contain her thoughts and quickly craned her neck up to murmur something she would quickly regret, only for Basilides' ears. "This is a sad affair. Our wedding would be much better."
It wasn't until the merchant responded with a chuckle and a confirmation of what she'd just said that the Taengean noble realized just what she'd said, and tried to hide her embarrassment by taking another long sip of her wine.
Luckily, she was saved from any further embarrassment by her mother coming to fetch her to the ship. It seemed such a shame that Nana would have to miss out on all of the festivity of the night, yet, she was rather glad that she wouldn't have a constant reminder that she was still unmarried dangled right above her nose. Even someone as beautiful and confident as Nana had their moments of insecurity. And Nana was not one to embrace them.
Instead, she quickly said her goodbyes to the group in front of her, setting her glass on a passing servant's tray and following her mother away, nodding as she spoke. "Yes, yes, right. Shall we go, then, mother?" She would be happy to be away from the annoying reminder that her sister had gotten what Nana wanted, and from the awkwardness she'd left for Basilides. She was more than happy to make her escape at that moment.
As the pair reached the carriage, Nana felt a twinge of sadness at being met by her father. It only now kicked in that she wasn't sure when she'd next see her father, or Theo and Imma. Yes, her father had gone off on voyages to foreign kingdoms before, but Nana had never traveled outside the waters of Taengea. This would be a huge change. At her father's kisses, Nana pulled him into a tight hug, calling back to her childhood days when she couldn't get enough affection. Though nowadays she was much less inclined to show her parents so much affection due to risk of being seen as childish, this was too important an occasion for her to leave without a proper goodbye.
"Make sure Imma doesn't get in too much trouble, Papa. And...And take care of yourself. I don't think Mother would be too pleased to come home and find you a wreck."
Giving her father another quick peck on the cheek, Nana joined Evelli in the carriage, quickly taking a seat before the door shut and the vehicle started rolling through the streets. Sitting across from her mother, Nana quickly dabbed at the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. "I didn't realize it would hurt to leave... Do you think they'll be alright, Mother?"
Rationally, Nana knew that her family would be fine in her mother's absence. Pia needed her mother now more than ever, and Nana was more than excited to reunite with her Sweet Pea and meet her new niece. There was no need for tears just yet.
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To the outside observer, Nana of Leventi would seem as if she couldn't be happier for the newly-married couple. Yet, on the inside, Nana was just as much herself as she'd ever been. The fourth-youngest had now had to watch as two of her sisters married into royalty, and with how things seemed to be going for Selene, soon she'd have to watch again. It almost seemed to Nana as if she had been cursed by Aphrodite. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.
Though she was genuinely happy for Theo in securing a perfect match, Nana, being a creature of habit, could not help but focus on herself. Yes, the ceremony was beautiful, and yes, she may have teared up just a bit, but it took everything in her not to burst into flames as her marriage pool seemed to evaporate into thin air. Who would she marry? Emilios? Surely not, two of her sisters had already staked claims on Mikaelidas men. It simply wouldn't do to have her own sister as a sister-in-law. And with Selene's claws sunk into Prince Vangelis, it would be that much more difficult to land a Kotas prince.
Thus, Nana was in the midst of a pity party. As soon as the carriage carrying her, Imma, and her parents arrived at the Mikaelidas palati, Nana quickly slipped away in search of a drink. And what with the nature of the day, the wine was flowing. It didn't take the young Leventi long to track down a servant carrying wine, quickly grabbing a glass before heading off in search of Basilides. Seeing as she hadn't got a proper chance to chat with the man before the ceremony, she would take the opportunity now.
As the blonde squeezed through the mass of well-wishers and honored guests, Nana kept her eyes peeled for the man's dark tangle of hair, taking more time than expected, and having to have her glass filled once again during her search due to the speed in which she downed it. As she walked through the reception, she couldn't help but think that if it were her wedding, she wouldn't have settled for this. It seemed that everyone was in agreeance that Olympia's wedding was a sad, sad affair, but Nana couldn't agree that this reception was the best she'd ever been to. If it were her wedding, she would ask for much more than a simple reception. She would have a festival, with performers and parades and the like. Theo was sweet, yes, but how she could ask for so little on such an important day baffled her sister.
As she mused on the wedding itself, Nana managed to locate her target, and quickly grabbed ahold of the merchant's arm, squeezing it tightly to alert him of her presence. And, as soon as she caught a glimpse of Basilides' face, a sort of calm fell over her. It was hard to explain, but Basilides was one who she never felt the need to keep up a certain appearance for, that she could say how she was feeling, and not be judged for it. She was just about to speak to the man when she noticed who all she was standing with. Quickly dipping into a curtsy, the Leventi flashed Princesses Xene and Gianna a smile, greeting them with a quick, "Your Highnesses," bowing her head in respect to the head of House Dimitrou, "Lord Gavriil," and nodding to her cousin, "Evie... What a beautiful wedding. Theo and Prince Achilleas make such a beautiful pair..." She sipped again at her cup, not at all wanting to participate in small talk when she was in such a foul mood.
Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was her feeling of being sick of the entire day (really, who would honestly want to watch their sisters get married off while they were kept from doing so?), but Nana could not manage to contain her thoughts and quickly craned her neck up to murmur something she would quickly regret, only for Basilides' ears. "This is a sad affair. Our wedding would be much better."
It wasn't until the merchant responded with a chuckle and a confirmation of what she'd just said that the Taengean noble realized just what she'd said, and tried to hide her embarrassment by taking another long sip of her wine.
Luckily, she was saved from any further embarrassment by her mother coming to fetch her to the ship. It seemed such a shame that Nana would have to miss out on all of the festivity of the night, yet, she was rather glad that she wouldn't have a constant reminder that she was still unmarried dangled right above her nose. Even someone as beautiful and confident as Nana had their moments of insecurity. And Nana was not one to embrace them.
Instead, she quickly said her goodbyes to the group in front of her, setting her glass on a passing servant's tray and following her mother away, nodding as she spoke. "Yes, yes, right. Shall we go, then, mother?" She would be happy to be away from the annoying reminder that her sister had gotten what Nana wanted, and from the awkwardness she'd left for Basilides. She was more than happy to make her escape at that moment.
As the pair reached the carriage, Nana felt a twinge of sadness at being met by her father. It only now kicked in that she wasn't sure when she'd next see her father, or Theo and Imma. Yes, her father had gone off on voyages to foreign kingdoms before, but Nana had never traveled outside the waters of Taengea. This would be a huge change. At her father's kisses, Nana pulled him into a tight hug, calling back to her childhood days when she couldn't get enough affection. Though nowadays she was much less inclined to show her parents so much affection due to risk of being seen as childish, this was too important an occasion for her to leave without a proper goodbye.
"Make sure Imma doesn't get in too much trouble, Papa. And...And take care of yourself. I don't think Mother would be too pleased to come home and find you a wreck."
Giving her father another quick peck on the cheek, Nana joined Evelli in the carriage, quickly taking a seat before the door shut and the vehicle started rolling through the streets. Sitting across from her mother, Nana quickly dabbed at the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. "I didn't realize it would hurt to leave... Do you think they'll be alright, Mother?"
Rationally, Nana knew that her family would be fine in her mother's absence. Pia needed her mother now more than ever, and Nana was more than excited to reunite with her Sweet Pea and meet her new niece. There was no need for tears just yet.
To the outside observer, Nana of Leventi would seem as if she couldn't be happier for the newly-married couple. Yet, on the inside, Nana was just as much herself as she'd ever been. The fourth-youngest had now had to watch as two of her sisters married into royalty, and with how things seemed to be going for Selene, soon she'd have to watch again. It almost seemed to Nana as if she had been cursed by Aphrodite. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.
Though she was genuinely happy for Theo in securing a perfect match, Nana, being a creature of habit, could not help but focus on herself. Yes, the ceremony was beautiful, and yes, she may have teared up just a bit, but it took everything in her not to burst into flames as her marriage pool seemed to evaporate into thin air. Who would she marry? Emilios? Surely not, two of her sisters had already staked claims on Mikaelidas men. It simply wouldn't do to have her own sister as a sister-in-law. And with Selene's claws sunk into Prince Vangelis, it would be that much more difficult to land a Kotas prince.
Thus, Nana was in the midst of a pity party. As soon as the carriage carrying her, Imma, and her parents arrived at the Mikaelidas palati, Nana quickly slipped away in search of a drink. And what with the nature of the day, the wine was flowing. It didn't take the young Leventi long to track down a servant carrying wine, quickly grabbing a glass before heading off in search of Basilides. Seeing as she hadn't got a proper chance to chat with the man before the ceremony, she would take the opportunity now.
As the blonde squeezed through the mass of well-wishers and honored guests, Nana kept her eyes peeled for the man's dark tangle of hair, taking more time than expected, and having to have her glass filled once again during her search due to the speed in which she downed it. As she walked through the reception, she couldn't help but think that if it were her wedding, she wouldn't have settled for this. It seemed that everyone was in agreeance that Olympia's wedding was a sad, sad affair, but Nana couldn't agree that this reception was the best she'd ever been to. If it were her wedding, she would ask for much more than a simple reception. She would have a festival, with performers and parades and the like. Theo was sweet, yes, but how she could ask for so little on such an important day baffled her sister.
As she mused on the wedding itself, Nana managed to locate her target, and quickly grabbed ahold of the merchant's arm, squeezing it tightly to alert him of her presence. And, as soon as she caught a glimpse of Basilides' face, a sort of calm fell over her. It was hard to explain, but Basilides was one who she never felt the need to keep up a certain appearance for, that she could say how she was feeling, and not be judged for it. She was just about to speak to the man when she noticed who all she was standing with. Quickly dipping into a curtsy, the Leventi flashed Princesses Xene and Gianna a smile, greeting them with a quick, "Your Highnesses," bowing her head in respect to the head of House Dimitrou, "Lord Gavriil," and nodding to her cousin, "Evie... What a beautiful wedding. Theo and Prince Achilleas make such a beautiful pair..." She sipped again at her cup, not at all wanting to participate in small talk when she was in such a foul mood.
Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was her feeling of being sick of the entire day (really, who would honestly want to watch their sisters get married off while they were kept from doing so?), but Nana could not manage to contain her thoughts and quickly craned her neck up to murmur something she would quickly regret, only for Basilides' ears. "This is a sad affair. Our wedding would be much better."
It wasn't until the merchant responded with a chuckle and a confirmation of what she'd just said that the Taengean noble realized just what she'd said, and tried to hide her embarrassment by taking another long sip of her wine.
Luckily, she was saved from any further embarrassment by her mother coming to fetch her to the ship. It seemed such a shame that Nana would have to miss out on all of the festivity of the night, yet, she was rather glad that she wouldn't have a constant reminder that she was still unmarried dangled right above her nose. Even someone as beautiful and confident as Nana had their moments of insecurity. And Nana was not one to embrace them.
Instead, she quickly said her goodbyes to the group in front of her, setting her glass on a passing servant's tray and following her mother away, nodding as she spoke. "Yes, yes, right. Shall we go, then, mother?" She would be happy to be away from the annoying reminder that her sister had gotten what Nana wanted, and from the awkwardness she'd left for Basilides. She was more than happy to make her escape at that moment.
As the pair reached the carriage, Nana felt a twinge of sadness at being met by her father. It only now kicked in that she wasn't sure when she'd next see her father, or Theo and Imma. Yes, her father had gone off on voyages to foreign kingdoms before, but Nana had never traveled outside the waters of Taengea. This would be a huge change. At her father's kisses, Nana pulled him into a tight hug, calling back to her childhood days when she couldn't get enough affection. Though nowadays she was much less inclined to show her parents so much affection due to risk of being seen as childish, this was too important an occasion for her to leave without a proper goodbye.
"Make sure Imma doesn't get in too much trouble, Papa. And...And take care of yourself. I don't think Mother would be too pleased to come home and find you a wreck."
Giving her father another quick peck on the cheek, Nana joined Evelli in the carriage, quickly taking a seat before the door shut and the vehicle started rolling through the streets. Sitting across from her mother, Nana quickly dabbed at the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. "I didn't realize it would hurt to leave... Do you think they'll be alright, Mother?"
Rationally, Nana knew that her family would be fine in her mother's absence. Pia needed her mother now more than ever, and Nana was more than excited to reunite with her Sweet Pea and meet her new niece. There was no need for tears just yet.
A young woman interrupted Theodora where she had sought a little respite from the crowds of well-wishers. Recognising her as a servant of the Mikaelidas - even if she had not been wearing a uniform that identified her as such - in fact... the servant of Mikaelidas who wasn't exactly the most cordial the last time they had met, Theodora immediately bristled at her presence at her wedding. Who exactly had thought that that assignment was an appropriate one? Clearly there was something about her arrangement with Achilleas that had flown the wrong way up this girl's nose and given that Theo was no shrinking violet or ignorant little girl, she had her suspicions why that might be. Not that she was gauche enough to verbalise them. Luckily, she was prevented from saying anything on impulse by the approach of her mother. Turning in favour of Evelli over the girl she recalled as Briseis, Theodora was quick to raise a hand that requested the girl halt in her offer of drink and wait for her to return to the conversation - for she was, indeed, thirsty and wouldn't mind a refresh to her wine cup. If the girl was to be here, she could at least do her duty.
As her mother took the opportunity, in her solitude by the table of refreshments, a few steps away from the servant girl who was forced to remain stationary and waiting, to bid Theodora goodbye, the young bride was surprised initially and a splinter of hurt fragmented in her chest that her mother was leaving so soon into the celebrations of her nuptials. They had not even had the chance to dance the traditional mother-daughter dance of the imeneos.
But the look on her mother's face instantly stilled her more selfish desires. Theodora might not have been the most politically savvy of her sisters but she was intuitive enough to pick up on Evelli's hidden meanings and desire to leave. There was only one reason the mother hen of her brood would ever leave the celebration of a child's wedding before the expected moment.
Leaning forwards in order to embrace the older, but still very beautiful, figure of her maternal parent, Theo held her close and murmured in her ear before they parted -
"Wish my love to those you may meet, mother." She said, in a hushed tone that gave away no incriminating names or expectations of the woman's voyage. For, unlike Nana, Theodora could be trusted to keep the secret of her mother's intensions. Or at least what she thought them to be.
With a brightness to her eyes and a softness to her lower lip at the parting of her mother, Theodora accepted the kiss to her cheek with demure grace and then wished both Evelli and her sister Nana a safe journey, sending up a prayer to Poseidon to ensure that the sea was calm for their voyage.
It was a few moments, watching them leave, before Theodora realised that she had left the young carrier of the wine vase, standing alone and awkward. She turned back to Briseis, this time accepting the cup that was poured for her, careful to ensure that the girl did not overspill upon her gown - she wouldn't put it past her, given her hostility in the past. She smiled with a soft thanks that was only slightly brittle with awkwardness but then frowned when the girl commented on her requiring the alcohol. Her gaze landed on the woman's breast where a chain of fine gold was carefully spun and wound around her neck, hanging beneath the edging of her chiton. It was a fine piece of jewellery - a mere trifle compared to the lavish designs Theodora was wearing at the time, but fine nonetheless - and the girl's hair was carefully coiled.
Instantly, the friendly atmosphere she had been trying to maintain, despite the awkwardness of the situation, seemed to evaporate and she was left in the company of a woman who smelt of delusions of grandeur. If only the poor woman knew how many serving girls had been taken for their uses by their lords - if that was indeed what had happened. It wasn't love. Not even close. But sometimes those who aspired could not tell the difference. And Theodora felt a pang of pity.
Still, that did not give her the right to nettle her on her wedding day.
"Not at all." Theodora insisted, her lips curling into her most winning of courtly smiles. "In fact..." She set aside the cup that the woman had patiently waited to pour for her. "I have changed my mind upon the drink. I would not wish for my memory of so wonderful a day - and a husband - to grow fuzzy."
How dare the young girl suggest that she was suffering on a day that was to be of absolute joy... If Theodora's suspicions were true then the girl had to be aware of how inappropriate her very presence was, she should learn some decorum and remain silence and unseen as best she could. Not offer her personal opinions wildly.
She was saved from any further forced conversation with the girl when a young, strapping man that Theodora was far more familiar with came over with an insistence for more wine. Without effort or thought, Theodora was quick to once more select her cup from the side of the table where she had been determined to leave it and then presented it without hesitation to Krysto.
"Here, Captain." She insisted, offering him the replacement cup. "I give you mine, for I have lost my thirst for it. If you'll excuse me..."
And with a neat side step, Theodora moved a little further down the table, away from the outspoken servant and her new husband's friend. Whilst she liked Krysto and had heard nothing but good things of him from Achilleas, she found herself seeking the company of her spouse over that of his friend.
Selecting just a few pieces of coiled and carved fruit on a small dish that she intended to offer to Achilleas in apology for abandoning him to the glad-handing, Theodora was pleased when she sensed the man in question attending to her side. From her peripheral vision, she had a flash of height, dark hair and the right skin tone, but upon turning with a smile bright upon her features, her lips froze into place when she realised her mistake.
If she had taken any other man in the gardens and rooms of the manor for Achilleas, she would not have felt so sick as she did now. For this particular mix up was ugly to say the least.
Swallowing, and trying to draw a new, smaller but soft smile onto her features that had fallen into nothingness, Theodora turned a little to ensure that her face was not viewable from the gardens behind her. Emilios took such an opportunity to speak...
It was only years of etiquette training that stopped her from wincing at the acid in Emilios' words as he charmingly spoke of his 'brotherly' duties.
"My mother is fine, thank you for offering." She stated, trying to remain calm at the way he stood so close to her. A serenity that escaped her completely when he reached out to adjust the strap of her gown upon her shoulder.
If he had spent any time with her proper, since the engagement was announced. If he had come to her and loved her and shown her affection in a way that screamed a desire to fight for her, then perhaps his touch wouldn't have sent tingles of awareness across her skin. To have a man who had known her body so intimately for so long, to the be absent from her for weeks on end... the touch he now gave her was impossible to ignore as it might have been had she not been forced to abstain by his abandonment of their relationship.
Her pretty brows drew a little close and she turned so that her shoulder broke free from his touch and his hand was forced to fall limply. She was careful to move with slowness and not jerk so as to call attention to them.
"That is inappropriate." She stated, referring to his touch and refusing to meet his eye. She exhaled a little harder than she might normally, glancing his way momentarily but looking away again quickly. She found herself unable to look directly into his face. "You do not have to make this difficult, Emi-..." She swallowed. "... my Lord." The little dish spun in a little circle between her fingers, as she fidgeted in her uncertainty. "The ceremony has been concluded. Feign your excuses and leave if that is what you wish to do. You need not adopt false pleasantries with me."
She hadn't meant to accuse him of subterfuge, or poke at the fire's dull embers between them by referring to any awkwardness that would exist between their hearts. But there had been a flush of anger in her belly. A moment of frustration and intolerance for the man's presence when it was all his fault that she was here, married to a good and justful man who was not him.
She would not regret her marriage to Achilleas, new or old. He was a fine man, one who could pleasure her physically and give her children and security - all that which a husband should give to his wife. She would not be unhappy or disappointed in the life ahead of her - found that she could not be so. And yet, several months ago, she had witnessed a very different future, that Emilios' cowardice had taken from them both. She could be angry at the loss of one even if the replacement was an other that she could happily exist within.
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A young woman interrupted Theodora where she had sought a little respite from the crowds of well-wishers. Recognising her as a servant of the Mikaelidas - even if she had not been wearing a uniform that identified her as such - in fact... the servant of Mikaelidas who wasn't exactly the most cordial the last time they had met, Theodora immediately bristled at her presence at her wedding. Who exactly had thought that that assignment was an appropriate one? Clearly there was something about her arrangement with Achilleas that had flown the wrong way up this girl's nose and given that Theo was no shrinking violet or ignorant little girl, she had her suspicions why that might be. Not that she was gauche enough to verbalise them. Luckily, she was prevented from saying anything on impulse by the approach of her mother. Turning in favour of Evelli over the girl she recalled as Briseis, Theodora was quick to raise a hand that requested the girl halt in her offer of drink and wait for her to return to the conversation - for she was, indeed, thirsty and wouldn't mind a refresh to her wine cup. If the girl was to be here, she could at least do her duty.
As her mother took the opportunity, in her solitude by the table of refreshments, a few steps away from the servant girl who was forced to remain stationary and waiting, to bid Theodora goodbye, the young bride was surprised initially and a splinter of hurt fragmented in her chest that her mother was leaving so soon into the celebrations of her nuptials. They had not even had the chance to dance the traditional mother-daughter dance of the imeneos.
But the look on her mother's face instantly stilled her more selfish desires. Theodora might not have been the most politically savvy of her sisters but she was intuitive enough to pick up on Evelli's hidden meanings and desire to leave. There was only one reason the mother hen of her brood would ever leave the celebration of a child's wedding before the expected moment.
Leaning forwards in order to embrace the older, but still very beautiful, figure of her maternal parent, Theo held her close and murmured in her ear before they parted -
"Wish my love to those you may meet, mother." She said, in a hushed tone that gave away no incriminating names or expectations of the woman's voyage. For, unlike Nana, Theodora could be trusted to keep the secret of her mother's intensions. Or at least what she thought them to be.
With a brightness to her eyes and a softness to her lower lip at the parting of her mother, Theodora accepted the kiss to her cheek with demure grace and then wished both Evelli and her sister Nana a safe journey, sending up a prayer to Poseidon to ensure that the sea was calm for their voyage.
It was a few moments, watching them leave, before Theodora realised that she had left the young carrier of the wine vase, standing alone and awkward. She turned back to Briseis, this time accepting the cup that was poured for her, careful to ensure that the girl did not overspill upon her gown - she wouldn't put it past her, given her hostility in the past. She smiled with a soft thanks that was only slightly brittle with awkwardness but then frowned when the girl commented on her requiring the alcohol. Her gaze landed on the woman's breast where a chain of fine gold was carefully spun and wound around her neck, hanging beneath the edging of her chiton. It was a fine piece of jewellery - a mere trifle compared to the lavish designs Theodora was wearing at the time, but fine nonetheless - and the girl's hair was carefully coiled.
Instantly, the friendly atmosphere she had been trying to maintain, despite the awkwardness of the situation, seemed to evaporate and she was left in the company of a woman who smelt of delusions of grandeur. If only the poor woman knew how many serving girls had been taken for their uses by their lords - if that was indeed what had happened. It wasn't love. Not even close. But sometimes those who aspired could not tell the difference. And Theodora felt a pang of pity.
Still, that did not give her the right to nettle her on her wedding day.
"Not at all." Theodora insisted, her lips curling into her most winning of courtly smiles. "In fact..." She set aside the cup that the woman had patiently waited to pour for her. "I have changed my mind upon the drink. I would not wish for my memory of so wonderful a day - and a husband - to grow fuzzy."
How dare the young girl suggest that she was suffering on a day that was to be of absolute joy... If Theodora's suspicions were true then the girl had to be aware of how inappropriate her very presence was, she should learn some decorum and remain silence and unseen as best she could. Not offer her personal opinions wildly.
She was saved from any further forced conversation with the girl when a young, strapping man that Theodora was far more familiar with came over with an insistence for more wine. Without effort or thought, Theodora was quick to once more select her cup from the side of the table where she had been determined to leave it and then presented it without hesitation to Krysto.
"Here, Captain." She insisted, offering him the replacement cup. "I give you mine, for I have lost my thirst for it. If you'll excuse me..."
And with a neat side step, Theodora moved a little further down the table, away from the outspoken servant and her new husband's friend. Whilst she liked Krysto and had heard nothing but good things of him from Achilleas, she found herself seeking the company of her spouse over that of his friend.
Selecting just a few pieces of coiled and carved fruit on a small dish that she intended to offer to Achilleas in apology for abandoning him to the glad-handing, Theodora was pleased when she sensed the man in question attending to her side. From her peripheral vision, she had a flash of height, dark hair and the right skin tone, but upon turning with a smile bright upon her features, her lips froze into place when she realised her mistake.
If she had taken any other man in the gardens and rooms of the manor for Achilleas, she would not have felt so sick as she did now. For this particular mix up was ugly to say the least.
Swallowing, and trying to draw a new, smaller but soft smile onto her features that had fallen into nothingness, Theodora turned a little to ensure that her face was not viewable from the gardens behind her. Emilios took such an opportunity to speak...
It was only years of etiquette training that stopped her from wincing at the acid in Emilios' words as he charmingly spoke of his 'brotherly' duties.
"My mother is fine, thank you for offering." She stated, trying to remain calm at the way he stood so close to her. A serenity that escaped her completely when he reached out to adjust the strap of her gown upon her shoulder.
If he had spent any time with her proper, since the engagement was announced. If he had come to her and loved her and shown her affection in a way that screamed a desire to fight for her, then perhaps his touch wouldn't have sent tingles of awareness across her skin. To have a man who had known her body so intimately for so long, to the be absent from her for weeks on end... the touch he now gave her was impossible to ignore as it might have been had she not been forced to abstain by his abandonment of their relationship.
Her pretty brows drew a little close and she turned so that her shoulder broke free from his touch and his hand was forced to fall limply. She was careful to move with slowness and not jerk so as to call attention to them.
"That is inappropriate." She stated, referring to his touch and refusing to meet his eye. She exhaled a little harder than she might normally, glancing his way momentarily but looking away again quickly. She found herself unable to look directly into his face. "You do not have to make this difficult, Emi-..." She swallowed. "... my Lord." The little dish spun in a little circle between her fingers, as she fidgeted in her uncertainty. "The ceremony has been concluded. Feign your excuses and leave if that is what you wish to do. You need not adopt false pleasantries with me."
She hadn't meant to accuse him of subterfuge, or poke at the fire's dull embers between them by referring to any awkwardness that would exist between their hearts. But there had been a flush of anger in her belly. A moment of frustration and intolerance for the man's presence when it was all his fault that she was here, married to a good and justful man who was not him.
She would not regret her marriage to Achilleas, new or old. He was a fine man, one who could pleasure her physically and give her children and security - all that which a husband should give to his wife. She would not be unhappy or disappointed in the life ahead of her - found that she could not be so. And yet, several months ago, she had witnessed a very different future, that Emilios' cowardice had taken from them both. She could be angry at the loss of one even if the replacement was an other that she could happily exist within.
A young woman interrupted Theodora where she had sought a little respite from the crowds of well-wishers. Recognising her as a servant of the Mikaelidas - even if she had not been wearing a uniform that identified her as such - in fact... the servant of Mikaelidas who wasn't exactly the most cordial the last time they had met, Theodora immediately bristled at her presence at her wedding. Who exactly had thought that that assignment was an appropriate one? Clearly there was something about her arrangement with Achilleas that had flown the wrong way up this girl's nose and given that Theo was no shrinking violet or ignorant little girl, she had her suspicions why that might be. Not that she was gauche enough to verbalise them. Luckily, she was prevented from saying anything on impulse by the approach of her mother. Turning in favour of Evelli over the girl she recalled as Briseis, Theodora was quick to raise a hand that requested the girl halt in her offer of drink and wait for her to return to the conversation - for she was, indeed, thirsty and wouldn't mind a refresh to her wine cup. If the girl was to be here, she could at least do her duty.
As her mother took the opportunity, in her solitude by the table of refreshments, a few steps away from the servant girl who was forced to remain stationary and waiting, to bid Theodora goodbye, the young bride was surprised initially and a splinter of hurt fragmented in her chest that her mother was leaving so soon into the celebrations of her nuptials. They had not even had the chance to dance the traditional mother-daughter dance of the imeneos.
But the look on her mother's face instantly stilled her more selfish desires. Theodora might not have been the most politically savvy of her sisters but she was intuitive enough to pick up on Evelli's hidden meanings and desire to leave. There was only one reason the mother hen of her brood would ever leave the celebration of a child's wedding before the expected moment.
Leaning forwards in order to embrace the older, but still very beautiful, figure of her maternal parent, Theo held her close and murmured in her ear before they parted -
"Wish my love to those you may meet, mother." She said, in a hushed tone that gave away no incriminating names or expectations of the woman's voyage. For, unlike Nana, Theodora could be trusted to keep the secret of her mother's intensions. Or at least what she thought them to be.
With a brightness to her eyes and a softness to her lower lip at the parting of her mother, Theodora accepted the kiss to her cheek with demure grace and then wished both Evelli and her sister Nana a safe journey, sending up a prayer to Poseidon to ensure that the sea was calm for their voyage.
It was a few moments, watching them leave, before Theodora realised that she had left the young carrier of the wine vase, standing alone and awkward. She turned back to Briseis, this time accepting the cup that was poured for her, careful to ensure that the girl did not overspill upon her gown - she wouldn't put it past her, given her hostility in the past. She smiled with a soft thanks that was only slightly brittle with awkwardness but then frowned when the girl commented on her requiring the alcohol. Her gaze landed on the woman's breast where a chain of fine gold was carefully spun and wound around her neck, hanging beneath the edging of her chiton. It was a fine piece of jewellery - a mere trifle compared to the lavish designs Theodora was wearing at the time, but fine nonetheless - and the girl's hair was carefully coiled.
Instantly, the friendly atmosphere she had been trying to maintain, despite the awkwardness of the situation, seemed to evaporate and she was left in the company of a woman who smelt of delusions of grandeur. If only the poor woman knew how many serving girls had been taken for their uses by their lords - if that was indeed what had happened. It wasn't love. Not even close. But sometimes those who aspired could not tell the difference. And Theodora felt a pang of pity.
Still, that did not give her the right to nettle her on her wedding day.
"Not at all." Theodora insisted, her lips curling into her most winning of courtly smiles. "In fact..." She set aside the cup that the woman had patiently waited to pour for her. "I have changed my mind upon the drink. I would not wish for my memory of so wonderful a day - and a husband - to grow fuzzy."
How dare the young girl suggest that she was suffering on a day that was to be of absolute joy... If Theodora's suspicions were true then the girl had to be aware of how inappropriate her very presence was, she should learn some decorum and remain silence and unseen as best she could. Not offer her personal opinions wildly.
She was saved from any further forced conversation with the girl when a young, strapping man that Theodora was far more familiar with came over with an insistence for more wine. Without effort or thought, Theodora was quick to once more select her cup from the side of the table where she had been determined to leave it and then presented it without hesitation to Krysto.
"Here, Captain." She insisted, offering him the replacement cup. "I give you mine, for I have lost my thirst for it. If you'll excuse me..."
And with a neat side step, Theodora moved a little further down the table, away from the outspoken servant and her new husband's friend. Whilst she liked Krysto and had heard nothing but good things of him from Achilleas, she found herself seeking the company of her spouse over that of his friend.
Selecting just a few pieces of coiled and carved fruit on a small dish that she intended to offer to Achilleas in apology for abandoning him to the glad-handing, Theodora was pleased when she sensed the man in question attending to her side. From her peripheral vision, she had a flash of height, dark hair and the right skin tone, but upon turning with a smile bright upon her features, her lips froze into place when she realised her mistake.
If she had taken any other man in the gardens and rooms of the manor for Achilleas, she would not have felt so sick as she did now. For this particular mix up was ugly to say the least.
Swallowing, and trying to draw a new, smaller but soft smile onto her features that had fallen into nothingness, Theodora turned a little to ensure that her face was not viewable from the gardens behind her. Emilios took such an opportunity to speak...
It was only years of etiquette training that stopped her from wincing at the acid in Emilios' words as he charmingly spoke of his 'brotherly' duties.
"My mother is fine, thank you for offering." She stated, trying to remain calm at the way he stood so close to her. A serenity that escaped her completely when he reached out to adjust the strap of her gown upon her shoulder.
If he had spent any time with her proper, since the engagement was announced. If he had come to her and loved her and shown her affection in a way that screamed a desire to fight for her, then perhaps his touch wouldn't have sent tingles of awareness across her skin. To have a man who had known her body so intimately for so long, to the be absent from her for weeks on end... the touch he now gave her was impossible to ignore as it might have been had she not been forced to abstain by his abandonment of their relationship.
Her pretty brows drew a little close and she turned so that her shoulder broke free from his touch and his hand was forced to fall limply. She was careful to move with slowness and not jerk so as to call attention to them.
"That is inappropriate." She stated, referring to his touch and refusing to meet his eye. She exhaled a little harder than she might normally, glancing his way momentarily but looking away again quickly. She found herself unable to look directly into his face. "You do not have to make this difficult, Emi-..." She swallowed. "... my Lord." The little dish spun in a little circle between her fingers, as she fidgeted in her uncertainty. "The ceremony has been concluded. Feign your excuses and leave if that is what you wish to do. You need not adopt false pleasantries with me."
She hadn't meant to accuse him of subterfuge, or poke at the fire's dull embers between them by referring to any awkwardness that would exist between their hearts. But there had been a flush of anger in her belly. A moment of frustration and intolerance for the man's presence when it was all his fault that she was here, married to a good and justful man who was not him.
She would not regret her marriage to Achilleas, new or old. He was a fine man, one who could pleasure her physically and give her children and security - all that which a husband should give to his wife. She would not be unhappy or disappointed in the life ahead of her - found that she could not be so. And yet, several months ago, she had witnessed a very different future, that Emilios' cowardice had taken from them both. She could be angry at the loss of one even if the replacement was an other that she could happily exist within.
Briseis tried her best to keep a neutral expression in place as the bride bid farewell to her mother. It was a sweet moment to be sure, and she kept her gaze downcast to give an appearance of detachment as if she was not listening or cared overmuch what was said. In truth she didn’t, and instead looked at the deep red liquid in the amphora she carried and tightened her grip so it didn’t accidentally slip and shatter all over the bride’s beautiful gown. Her gaze lifted only when Theodora’s attention returned to her, and she smiled sweetly as she filled the woman’s cup.
The expression she wore didn’t alter as a coldness seemed to build from the other woman, who was older, taller, and far more curvaceous than Briseis’ own lithe form. They were little alike, and the comparison for whatever reason gave the maid a hint of confidence that was not so much deserved. When Theodora rejected the cup and passed it off to Krysto instead, her head tipped in curiosity for a moment before she instead dipped into a curtesy and allowed the woman to move away. Krysto’s expression was one of reproach, but to him Bebe had little reason to hide the roll of her eyes as she strode away with him. She was familiar with the guard, had spoken with and joked with him on many occasions in the kitchens, and knew he was aware of her affair, but no amount of friendship or respect for him was wavering her from the path she trod.
”A drink, my Lord?”
Achilleas stood in a small group of well wishers who were taking their departure when she slipped up beside him with the wine, eyes bright and far less melancholy than they had been when they’d last met. It was too easy, the other two had no shame. If he’d doubted before the whole wedding would see the truth if Emilios kept touching her so. Keeping a polite smile on her lips as she lifted the amphora in offer, Briseis paused and looked over at the scene unfolding, almost challenging Krystos to deny what they could all see.
”How kind of Lord Emilios to welcome your bride so warmly. A brother’s love is truly a blessing.”
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Briseis tried her best to keep a neutral expression in place as the bride bid farewell to her mother. It was a sweet moment to be sure, and she kept her gaze downcast to give an appearance of detachment as if she was not listening or cared overmuch what was said. In truth she didn’t, and instead looked at the deep red liquid in the amphora she carried and tightened her grip so it didn’t accidentally slip and shatter all over the bride’s beautiful gown. Her gaze lifted only when Theodora’s attention returned to her, and she smiled sweetly as she filled the woman’s cup.
The expression she wore didn’t alter as a coldness seemed to build from the other woman, who was older, taller, and far more curvaceous than Briseis’ own lithe form. They were little alike, and the comparison for whatever reason gave the maid a hint of confidence that was not so much deserved. When Theodora rejected the cup and passed it off to Krysto instead, her head tipped in curiosity for a moment before she instead dipped into a curtesy and allowed the woman to move away. Krysto’s expression was one of reproach, but to him Bebe had little reason to hide the roll of her eyes as she strode away with him. She was familiar with the guard, had spoken with and joked with him on many occasions in the kitchens, and knew he was aware of her affair, but no amount of friendship or respect for him was wavering her from the path she trod.
”A drink, my Lord?”
Achilleas stood in a small group of well wishers who were taking their departure when she slipped up beside him with the wine, eyes bright and far less melancholy than they had been when they’d last met. It was too easy, the other two had no shame. If he’d doubted before the whole wedding would see the truth if Emilios kept touching her so. Keeping a polite smile on her lips as she lifted the amphora in offer, Briseis paused and looked over at the scene unfolding, almost challenging Krystos to deny what they could all see.
”How kind of Lord Emilios to welcome your bride so warmly. A brother’s love is truly a blessing.”
Briseis tried her best to keep a neutral expression in place as the bride bid farewell to her mother. It was a sweet moment to be sure, and she kept her gaze downcast to give an appearance of detachment as if she was not listening or cared overmuch what was said. In truth she didn’t, and instead looked at the deep red liquid in the amphora she carried and tightened her grip so it didn’t accidentally slip and shatter all over the bride’s beautiful gown. Her gaze lifted only when Theodora’s attention returned to her, and she smiled sweetly as she filled the woman’s cup.
The expression she wore didn’t alter as a coldness seemed to build from the other woman, who was older, taller, and far more curvaceous than Briseis’ own lithe form. They were little alike, and the comparison for whatever reason gave the maid a hint of confidence that was not so much deserved. When Theodora rejected the cup and passed it off to Krysto instead, her head tipped in curiosity for a moment before she instead dipped into a curtesy and allowed the woman to move away. Krysto’s expression was one of reproach, but to him Bebe had little reason to hide the roll of her eyes as she strode away with him. She was familiar with the guard, had spoken with and joked with him on many occasions in the kitchens, and knew he was aware of her affair, but no amount of friendship or respect for him was wavering her from the path she trod.
”A drink, my Lord?”
Achilleas stood in a small group of well wishers who were taking their departure when she slipped up beside him with the wine, eyes bright and far less melancholy than they had been when they’d last met. It was too easy, the other two had no shame. If he’d doubted before the whole wedding would see the truth if Emilios kept touching her so. Keeping a polite smile on her lips as she lifted the amphora in offer, Briseis paused and looked over at the scene unfolding, almost challenging Krystos to deny what they could all see.
”How kind of Lord Emilios to welcome your bride so warmly. A brother’s love is truly a blessing.”
There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he needed to tell her. Didn’t she understand the position he was in? Didn’t she know his family’s reputation well enough to understand just how little of a fight he could put up?
Didn’t she understand the lengths his father was willing to go to so that he could get his way?
It wasn’t about him not fighting hard enough for her. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her enough to even try-- it was that he wasn’t willing to risk her life just to hope that their parents would let them be wed. There was far more at stake than just their happiness, and she was clueless to it.
Part of that was his fault, as he had all but avoided her so that the marriage would happen. It took every fiber of his being not to run away with her and damn the consequences. But how would that make them look? And what would their families do to see their return? He wanted her, so badly his chest ached every morning. And yet, he knew that he couldn’t have her. Because having her would bring ruin to both their families. Everyone considered him selfish, but growing up meant that he had to think of others. And the last thing he wanted to do was completely ruin the reputation of the Leventis, all of marriageable age.
She had no idea just how deeply he did care about her, about her family and his own.
”You believe my lack of presence in your life as of late makes my pleasantries false?” He said as he stepped closer, trying to ignore the eyes around them. ”Every morning I woke with your name on my lips, and each night your eyes were the last thing I thought of. Each day without you has been a test of my strength and willpower.” his voice was low, dangerously so, knowing that they could very well be overheard.
”Do you think my plea for your hand would have been heard? By a man who shamelessly flaunts around his open disgust for his wife by taking another woman to his bed? My father rarely gives consideration to his children past his own needs.” His blue eyes were flaring with passion, unable to deny his feelings in what she didn’t seem to understand. ”He is a man who will do anything for power. Marrying you over my brother would have gained him nothing. And he would have never allowed it.”
He stopped for a moment, smiling brightly and grabbing a glass from a passing slave. Through his smile, he said, ”I miss you, Theo. I miss the taste of your lips on mine. I miss the way your scent lingered in my bed. I miss your laugh. All because I planted an idea in my father’s head to wed you to the wrong brother.”
He felt eyes on his back but thought nothing of it, for most people would just see them as brother and sister politely conversing after a beautiful wedding. No one would think they were former lovers dealing with the fallout of total miscommunication and silence.
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There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he needed to tell her. Didn’t she understand the position he was in? Didn’t she know his family’s reputation well enough to understand just how little of a fight he could put up?
Didn’t she understand the lengths his father was willing to go to so that he could get his way?
It wasn’t about him not fighting hard enough for her. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her enough to even try-- it was that he wasn’t willing to risk her life just to hope that their parents would let them be wed. There was far more at stake than just their happiness, and she was clueless to it.
Part of that was his fault, as he had all but avoided her so that the marriage would happen. It took every fiber of his being not to run away with her and damn the consequences. But how would that make them look? And what would their families do to see their return? He wanted her, so badly his chest ached every morning. And yet, he knew that he couldn’t have her. Because having her would bring ruin to both their families. Everyone considered him selfish, but growing up meant that he had to think of others. And the last thing he wanted to do was completely ruin the reputation of the Leventis, all of marriageable age.
She had no idea just how deeply he did care about her, about her family and his own.
”You believe my lack of presence in your life as of late makes my pleasantries false?” He said as he stepped closer, trying to ignore the eyes around them. ”Every morning I woke with your name on my lips, and each night your eyes were the last thing I thought of. Each day without you has been a test of my strength and willpower.” his voice was low, dangerously so, knowing that they could very well be overheard.
”Do you think my plea for your hand would have been heard? By a man who shamelessly flaunts around his open disgust for his wife by taking another woman to his bed? My father rarely gives consideration to his children past his own needs.” His blue eyes were flaring with passion, unable to deny his feelings in what she didn’t seem to understand. ”He is a man who will do anything for power. Marrying you over my brother would have gained him nothing. And he would have never allowed it.”
He stopped for a moment, smiling brightly and grabbing a glass from a passing slave. Through his smile, he said, ”I miss you, Theo. I miss the taste of your lips on mine. I miss the way your scent lingered in my bed. I miss your laugh. All because I planted an idea in my father’s head to wed you to the wrong brother.”
He felt eyes on his back but thought nothing of it, for most people would just see them as brother and sister politely conversing after a beautiful wedding. No one would think they were former lovers dealing with the fallout of total miscommunication and silence.
There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he needed to tell her. Didn’t she understand the position he was in? Didn’t she know his family’s reputation well enough to understand just how little of a fight he could put up?
Didn’t she understand the lengths his father was willing to go to so that he could get his way?
It wasn’t about him not fighting hard enough for her. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her enough to even try-- it was that he wasn’t willing to risk her life just to hope that their parents would let them be wed. There was far more at stake than just their happiness, and she was clueless to it.
Part of that was his fault, as he had all but avoided her so that the marriage would happen. It took every fiber of his being not to run away with her and damn the consequences. But how would that make them look? And what would their families do to see their return? He wanted her, so badly his chest ached every morning. And yet, he knew that he couldn’t have her. Because having her would bring ruin to both their families. Everyone considered him selfish, but growing up meant that he had to think of others. And the last thing he wanted to do was completely ruin the reputation of the Leventis, all of marriageable age.
She had no idea just how deeply he did care about her, about her family and his own.
”You believe my lack of presence in your life as of late makes my pleasantries false?” He said as he stepped closer, trying to ignore the eyes around them. ”Every morning I woke with your name on my lips, and each night your eyes were the last thing I thought of. Each day without you has been a test of my strength and willpower.” his voice was low, dangerously so, knowing that they could very well be overheard.
”Do you think my plea for your hand would have been heard? By a man who shamelessly flaunts around his open disgust for his wife by taking another woman to his bed? My father rarely gives consideration to his children past his own needs.” His blue eyes were flaring with passion, unable to deny his feelings in what she didn’t seem to understand. ”He is a man who will do anything for power. Marrying you over my brother would have gained him nothing. And he would have never allowed it.”
He stopped for a moment, smiling brightly and grabbing a glass from a passing slave. Through his smile, he said, ”I miss you, Theo. I miss the taste of your lips on mine. I miss the way your scent lingered in my bed. I miss your laugh. All because I planted an idea in my father’s head to wed you to the wrong brother.”
He felt eyes on his back but thought nothing of it, for most people would just see them as brother and sister politely conversing after a beautiful wedding. No one would think they were former lovers dealing with the fallout of total miscommunication and silence.
There was little Theo could offer in terms of his first accusation. Of course she thought his pleasantries to be false. Not that long ago, their world had been entirely different. He had wooed her, charmed her, claimed to love her. He had seduced her into giving him everything she could hold dear as a woman: from her chastity to her heart. And yet the second things became a little - granted, monumentally - difficult, he had abandoned her to the fate others had chosen for them.
She had been the one to risk her neck and speak with her uncle and father. She had been the one to be entirely honest and fought for their union. Her resistance had fallen at the first hurdle, perhaps, but had she felt that they were determined to fight against the wave of predetermination together, she would have dug in her heels. She had fallen from a horse enough times to know when to get back on it and when it was a lost cause. And Emilios had only proven to her, in the past weeks, that, had she continued to fight, she would have been left to ride through her life alone.
Instead, Achilleas had stepped up and claimed the position of dependable lover; of courageous supporter. He had offered her everything Emilios had, and still more. He had made her feel everything that was not alone and abandoned.
The fact that the look in the younger brother's eyes already had her heart rate pounding at twice its normal speed only saw to frustrate her further.
Not given the chance to answer her determinations of his character, that he threw in her face, she simply cast him an angry glance from the side of her profile. Whilst his voice was low, his sense of urgency and expression of frustration would draw attention if he was not careful...
When he spoke of waking with her name... of sleeping with visions of her eyes, her sidelong look was turned into a full glare of warning, one inky black curl bouncing against her temple as she turned her head with a reproachful expression of hostility. Her god given beauty was turned into a watching caution of wrath.
"Lower your voice..." She hissed at him, but the words went unheeded, his determination to make a point overpowering his sense of decorum. What was all this secrecy for if it were only to be revealed now and ruin them over again? She had lost her happiness with Emilios - through his own actions no less - and now he was about to secure her a future alone and in shame if he did not stem his tide of passionate feeling.
Not to mention the way it weaved a tension around her chest that restrained her breathing and had the heat in her face rise. For there was something within her that he would always lay claim to and mastery of, if she did not find a way to restrain it. The sheer futility of her warnings – both to he and herself – made her afeared of crying.
His tongue tripped over his excuses - that his father would not listen, that his House would not permit. All of it fell on deaf ears for Theodora had been more than willing to stand by him regardless of difficulty or pointlessness. He had been the one to judge and decide that the path before them was too hard. His cowardice had overridden any fine feelings he might have held for her.
Which, as far as Theodora was concerned, only rendered them as only half so passionate as he had claimed them to be.
When Emilios used the word 'marrying' and themselves in the same sentence, Theo felt a clammy sweat break out between her shoulder blades and an itch grow on the right side of her neck where her instincts told her to check that Achilleas was not witnessing this. He was too far away to hear the conversation and she hoped that her own frame might hide some of Emilios' profile and words from him reading them in the shape of his mouth. But there was little to hide of Emilios' earnest and intense stance, the way in which Theo seemed to cower from her own emotions and the fact that they were deep in private discussion at all when they were supposed to be only bride and brother-in-law.
"Emilios, this is neither the place nor the time..." She tried to beg of him, her words hissed between her teeth, her eyes filling with tears when he made everything ten times worse and spoke of their intimate moments, of his desires for her lips and smell and sounds. She squeezed her eyes shut and reached for a cup of wine from the long table. She had no idea whose it was or why it had been left there but she needed something to do with her hands; something to distract her. But her heart began to sting and her belly hollowed out with each of his words, making it impossible to swallow the crimson liquid as she pressed the rim to her lips. Not because his sentiments were distasteful but because she had to strangle similar affection in the bottom of her chest, deep down where it could never be allowed to reach the light of day.
For so many weeks - months as preparations had dragged out - she had remembered the same, felt the same... She had reached out for him in the night, she had felt that she might smell his scent upon the sheets of her chambers if she buried her features among the folds and inhaled deeply enough, ready to cry when she smelt only lavender and the soap. She had begged for him then, in her heart of hearts and prayed that he would come to her, that he would claim her as his own. And he never had!
She had forced the thoughts down and away; she had swallowed back her sorrowful sobs. She had damn well dived into her relationship with Achilleas and done everything in her power to never allow Emilios' image, touch and taste to invade her mind again; permitting the feel of his brother to replace such memories.
She thought that she had been doing well. That her attempts to replace one brother with the other had been successful. She had, until that morning, thought only of Achilleas, held passion only for her future husband. And now... Now of all times, Emilios came to her and dug up her feelings with his carefully determined words. Feelings that had been well buried but had not – she now realised - been smote beforehand.
As Emilios, tried to draw her in with his entreaties, Theo felt as if she were being strangled. She maintained her dignity; she kept her back straight and refused to look over at Achilleas or reveal that anything was amiss, at all. Emilios could look as outraged, as determined, as passionate as he wanted, but she would neither yield nor offer up any form of body language that suggested she was the same. She was determined.
It was easier thought than done, though.
Whilst her frame remained in place, her shoulders strong and her legs resolute, Theo found her breathing still escalating and her heart still hammering... She wanted to throw her hands over her ears to match her squeezed-shut eyes, and block out what he was saying, refuse to let him continue to dig at the grave of her emotions. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe.
And then he spoke of her marrying the 'wrong brother', and her defence of a man who had given her nothing but his compassionate heart and all the dignity, security and devotion that Emilios had so sorely failed to provide took her by the throat. In one swift and decisive movement that was entirely beyond her control, Theodora snapped, a harsh command - "Stop it!" – breeching her painted lips and her wrist striking out to flick the entire contents of the chalice of wine straight into Emilios' face.
There was a pause in the air between them, as if time had frozen. Both stood with a look of such pure shock on their features, Theodora's hand darting to cover her own mouth at the horror of her own actions. What, in the name of the Fates, had she done? She screamed in her head, watching in terror as drops of deep scarlet dripped from Emilios' chin and spattered the marble floor beneath their feet. They felt with a soft note of delicate chimes, loud in the hush that had suddenly fallen around them, and then broke and bloomed across the white stone; reminiscent of the drawing of first blood.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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There was little Theo could offer in terms of his first accusation. Of course she thought his pleasantries to be false. Not that long ago, their world had been entirely different. He had wooed her, charmed her, claimed to love her. He had seduced her into giving him everything she could hold dear as a woman: from her chastity to her heart. And yet the second things became a little - granted, monumentally - difficult, he had abandoned her to the fate others had chosen for them.
She had been the one to risk her neck and speak with her uncle and father. She had been the one to be entirely honest and fought for their union. Her resistance had fallen at the first hurdle, perhaps, but had she felt that they were determined to fight against the wave of predetermination together, she would have dug in her heels. She had fallen from a horse enough times to know when to get back on it and when it was a lost cause. And Emilios had only proven to her, in the past weeks, that, had she continued to fight, she would have been left to ride through her life alone.
Instead, Achilleas had stepped up and claimed the position of dependable lover; of courageous supporter. He had offered her everything Emilios had, and still more. He had made her feel everything that was not alone and abandoned.
The fact that the look in the younger brother's eyes already had her heart rate pounding at twice its normal speed only saw to frustrate her further.
Not given the chance to answer her determinations of his character, that he threw in her face, she simply cast him an angry glance from the side of her profile. Whilst his voice was low, his sense of urgency and expression of frustration would draw attention if he was not careful...
When he spoke of waking with her name... of sleeping with visions of her eyes, her sidelong look was turned into a full glare of warning, one inky black curl bouncing against her temple as she turned her head with a reproachful expression of hostility. Her god given beauty was turned into a watching caution of wrath.
"Lower your voice..." She hissed at him, but the words went unheeded, his determination to make a point overpowering his sense of decorum. What was all this secrecy for if it were only to be revealed now and ruin them over again? She had lost her happiness with Emilios - through his own actions no less - and now he was about to secure her a future alone and in shame if he did not stem his tide of passionate feeling.
Not to mention the way it weaved a tension around her chest that restrained her breathing and had the heat in her face rise. For there was something within her that he would always lay claim to and mastery of, if she did not find a way to restrain it. The sheer futility of her warnings – both to he and herself – made her afeared of crying.
His tongue tripped over his excuses - that his father would not listen, that his House would not permit. All of it fell on deaf ears for Theodora had been more than willing to stand by him regardless of difficulty or pointlessness. He had been the one to judge and decide that the path before them was too hard. His cowardice had overridden any fine feelings he might have held for her.
Which, as far as Theodora was concerned, only rendered them as only half so passionate as he had claimed them to be.
When Emilios used the word 'marrying' and themselves in the same sentence, Theo felt a clammy sweat break out between her shoulder blades and an itch grow on the right side of her neck where her instincts told her to check that Achilleas was not witnessing this. He was too far away to hear the conversation and she hoped that her own frame might hide some of Emilios' profile and words from him reading them in the shape of his mouth. But there was little to hide of Emilios' earnest and intense stance, the way in which Theo seemed to cower from her own emotions and the fact that they were deep in private discussion at all when they were supposed to be only bride and brother-in-law.
"Emilios, this is neither the place nor the time..." She tried to beg of him, her words hissed between her teeth, her eyes filling with tears when he made everything ten times worse and spoke of their intimate moments, of his desires for her lips and smell and sounds. She squeezed her eyes shut and reached for a cup of wine from the long table. She had no idea whose it was or why it had been left there but she needed something to do with her hands; something to distract her. But her heart began to sting and her belly hollowed out with each of his words, making it impossible to swallow the crimson liquid as she pressed the rim to her lips. Not because his sentiments were distasteful but because she had to strangle similar affection in the bottom of her chest, deep down where it could never be allowed to reach the light of day.
For so many weeks - months as preparations had dragged out - she had remembered the same, felt the same... She had reached out for him in the night, she had felt that she might smell his scent upon the sheets of her chambers if she buried her features among the folds and inhaled deeply enough, ready to cry when she smelt only lavender and the soap. She had begged for him then, in her heart of hearts and prayed that he would come to her, that he would claim her as his own. And he never had!
She had forced the thoughts down and away; she had swallowed back her sorrowful sobs. She had damn well dived into her relationship with Achilleas and done everything in her power to never allow Emilios' image, touch and taste to invade her mind again; permitting the feel of his brother to replace such memories.
She thought that she had been doing well. That her attempts to replace one brother with the other had been successful. She had, until that morning, thought only of Achilleas, held passion only for her future husband. And now... Now of all times, Emilios came to her and dug up her feelings with his carefully determined words. Feelings that had been well buried but had not – she now realised - been smote beforehand.
As Emilios, tried to draw her in with his entreaties, Theo felt as if she were being strangled. She maintained her dignity; she kept her back straight and refused to look over at Achilleas or reveal that anything was amiss, at all. Emilios could look as outraged, as determined, as passionate as he wanted, but she would neither yield nor offer up any form of body language that suggested she was the same. She was determined.
It was easier thought than done, though.
Whilst her frame remained in place, her shoulders strong and her legs resolute, Theo found her breathing still escalating and her heart still hammering... She wanted to throw her hands over her ears to match her squeezed-shut eyes, and block out what he was saying, refuse to let him continue to dig at the grave of her emotions. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe.
And then he spoke of her marrying the 'wrong brother', and her defence of a man who had given her nothing but his compassionate heart and all the dignity, security and devotion that Emilios had so sorely failed to provide took her by the throat. In one swift and decisive movement that was entirely beyond her control, Theodora snapped, a harsh command - "Stop it!" – breeching her painted lips and her wrist striking out to flick the entire contents of the chalice of wine straight into Emilios' face.
There was a pause in the air between them, as if time had frozen. Both stood with a look of such pure shock on their features, Theodora's hand darting to cover her own mouth at the horror of her own actions. What, in the name of the Fates, had she done? She screamed in her head, watching in terror as drops of deep scarlet dripped from Emilios' chin and spattered the marble floor beneath their feet. They felt with a soft note of delicate chimes, loud in the hush that had suddenly fallen around them, and then broke and bloomed across the white stone; reminiscent of the drawing of first blood.
There was little Theo could offer in terms of his first accusation. Of course she thought his pleasantries to be false. Not that long ago, their world had been entirely different. He had wooed her, charmed her, claimed to love her. He had seduced her into giving him everything she could hold dear as a woman: from her chastity to her heart. And yet the second things became a little - granted, monumentally - difficult, he had abandoned her to the fate others had chosen for them.
She had been the one to risk her neck and speak with her uncle and father. She had been the one to be entirely honest and fought for their union. Her resistance had fallen at the first hurdle, perhaps, but had she felt that they were determined to fight against the wave of predetermination together, she would have dug in her heels. She had fallen from a horse enough times to know when to get back on it and when it was a lost cause. And Emilios had only proven to her, in the past weeks, that, had she continued to fight, she would have been left to ride through her life alone.
Instead, Achilleas had stepped up and claimed the position of dependable lover; of courageous supporter. He had offered her everything Emilios had, and still more. He had made her feel everything that was not alone and abandoned.
The fact that the look in the younger brother's eyes already had her heart rate pounding at twice its normal speed only saw to frustrate her further.
Not given the chance to answer her determinations of his character, that he threw in her face, she simply cast him an angry glance from the side of her profile. Whilst his voice was low, his sense of urgency and expression of frustration would draw attention if he was not careful...
When he spoke of waking with her name... of sleeping with visions of her eyes, her sidelong look was turned into a full glare of warning, one inky black curl bouncing against her temple as she turned her head with a reproachful expression of hostility. Her god given beauty was turned into a watching caution of wrath.
"Lower your voice..." She hissed at him, but the words went unheeded, his determination to make a point overpowering his sense of decorum. What was all this secrecy for if it were only to be revealed now and ruin them over again? She had lost her happiness with Emilios - through his own actions no less - and now he was about to secure her a future alone and in shame if he did not stem his tide of passionate feeling.
Not to mention the way it weaved a tension around her chest that restrained her breathing and had the heat in her face rise. For there was something within her that he would always lay claim to and mastery of, if she did not find a way to restrain it. The sheer futility of her warnings – both to he and herself – made her afeared of crying.
His tongue tripped over his excuses - that his father would not listen, that his House would not permit. All of it fell on deaf ears for Theodora had been more than willing to stand by him regardless of difficulty or pointlessness. He had been the one to judge and decide that the path before them was too hard. His cowardice had overridden any fine feelings he might have held for her.
Which, as far as Theodora was concerned, only rendered them as only half so passionate as he had claimed them to be.
When Emilios used the word 'marrying' and themselves in the same sentence, Theo felt a clammy sweat break out between her shoulder blades and an itch grow on the right side of her neck where her instincts told her to check that Achilleas was not witnessing this. He was too far away to hear the conversation and she hoped that her own frame might hide some of Emilios' profile and words from him reading them in the shape of his mouth. But there was little to hide of Emilios' earnest and intense stance, the way in which Theo seemed to cower from her own emotions and the fact that they were deep in private discussion at all when they were supposed to be only bride and brother-in-law.
"Emilios, this is neither the place nor the time..." She tried to beg of him, her words hissed between her teeth, her eyes filling with tears when he made everything ten times worse and spoke of their intimate moments, of his desires for her lips and smell and sounds. She squeezed her eyes shut and reached for a cup of wine from the long table. She had no idea whose it was or why it had been left there but she needed something to do with her hands; something to distract her. But her heart began to sting and her belly hollowed out with each of his words, making it impossible to swallow the crimson liquid as she pressed the rim to her lips. Not because his sentiments were distasteful but because she had to strangle similar affection in the bottom of her chest, deep down where it could never be allowed to reach the light of day.
For so many weeks - months as preparations had dragged out - she had remembered the same, felt the same... She had reached out for him in the night, she had felt that she might smell his scent upon the sheets of her chambers if she buried her features among the folds and inhaled deeply enough, ready to cry when she smelt only lavender and the soap. She had begged for him then, in her heart of hearts and prayed that he would come to her, that he would claim her as his own. And he never had!
She had forced the thoughts down and away; she had swallowed back her sorrowful sobs. She had damn well dived into her relationship with Achilleas and done everything in her power to never allow Emilios' image, touch and taste to invade her mind again; permitting the feel of his brother to replace such memories.
She thought that she had been doing well. That her attempts to replace one brother with the other had been successful. She had, until that morning, thought only of Achilleas, held passion only for her future husband. And now... Now of all times, Emilios came to her and dug up her feelings with his carefully determined words. Feelings that had been well buried but had not – she now realised - been smote beforehand.
As Emilios, tried to draw her in with his entreaties, Theo felt as if she were being strangled. She maintained her dignity; she kept her back straight and refused to look over at Achilleas or reveal that anything was amiss, at all. Emilios could look as outraged, as determined, as passionate as he wanted, but she would neither yield nor offer up any form of body language that suggested she was the same. She was determined.
It was easier thought than done, though.
Whilst her frame remained in place, her shoulders strong and her legs resolute, Theo found her breathing still escalating and her heart still hammering... She wanted to throw her hands over her ears to match her squeezed-shut eyes, and block out what he was saying, refuse to let him continue to dig at the grave of her emotions. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe.
And then he spoke of her marrying the 'wrong brother', and her defence of a man who had given her nothing but his compassionate heart and all the dignity, security and devotion that Emilios had so sorely failed to provide took her by the throat. In one swift and decisive movement that was entirely beyond her control, Theodora snapped, a harsh command - "Stop it!" – breeching her painted lips and her wrist striking out to flick the entire contents of the chalice of wine straight into Emilios' face.
There was a pause in the air between them, as if time had frozen. Both stood with a look of such pure shock on their features, Theodora's hand darting to cover her own mouth at the horror of her own actions. What, in the name of the Fates, had she done? She screamed in her head, watching in terror as drops of deep scarlet dripped from Emilios' chin and spattered the marble floor beneath their feet. They felt with a soft note of delicate chimes, loud in the hush that had suddenly fallen around them, and then broke and bloomed across the white stone; reminiscent of the drawing of first blood.