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It was late enough that those who had come for the court session would offend nobody by leaving, and not yet late enough that it could be considered rude to stay, which meant it would be rude for the hosts to leave the great hall just yet - or at the very least, they were hopefully unwilling to while there was still unofficial politicking to do. It was Lesley's turn to take a break and get something to eat, his second break of the night, in fact - it was quite unreasonable to expect a man to stay completely alert while bored and on his feet all night with nothing to eat or drink, especially when he was not inured to such duties as professional soldiers were, and those organizing the guards for the night were well aware of it. His first, however, had been only long enough to have something to drink, relieve himself, and slip out of his armour long enough to stretch the kink out of his spine. Besides, he tried not to be predictable enough to get into trouble at the first opportunity.
The leftovers and second-bests provided to feed the guards were still better than anything available in the lower city at any time, but the difference was particularly stark, now, with the threat of famine looming. Lesley was neither surprised nor offended; it was as it was, and regardless of his naturally contrary habit of treating his betters as if they weren't, he still accepted it as the gods' will that others had been born with more power, just as it was that others had been born with more beauty. He ate quickly, not rushing, but with the habitual efficiency of a slave or servant who was rarely allowed more than the absolute minimum time to eat or take care of anything else for themselves. He was supposed to have enough time to properly rest, this time, but he wasn't tired and the mens' breaks had been staggered such that there were as few off-duty at a time as feasible, and in a brief moment when he was alone, he grabbed a chlamys one of the Athenian guards had discarded - not the man who'd just stepped out to use the latrine, Les was careful enough of that - and slipped it around his shoulders as he left.
The night was clear and cool enough that a cloak was not out of place, though neither was it entirely necessary, and Lesley faintly caught the fresh salt smell of wind coming off the sea. With his distinctive tattoos covered again, and the confident step of a soldier following orders, he headed through the courtyard and towards the area where, if his memory was to be trusted, the royals had their private quarters. Foolish, risky... if someone recognized that he should not be where he was, the night was unlikely to end well, and he had never been in this area before, and even if he had he would have no way of knowing which room was hers. While he recognized the need for caution, though, Lesley didn't spend a single thought berating himself for his foolishness; when the impulse had struck him, he hadn't even questioned it. It wasn't loyalty - not to the monarchy, at any rate. But she was cute and kind and had generally not acted like a stuck-up prig, even flirted with him a bit, and Les had decided he liked her, and now she had been, apparently, ill or otherwise indisposed for months - and the somewhat crazy gladiator might be willing to kill his friends, but never abandon them.
As was his habit when in such stratified environs - and to someone of Lesley's status, anywhere in the upper city qualified - he kept his eyes where they belonged and his ears open. Luckily a patrolling guard had reason to be looking around, but he was careful to do so in the right way. He saw a couple slaves, but nobody of importance, and the fragment of a conversation he overheard, as one asked another how her highness was doing, convinced him both that he was headed in the right direction and that she needed to be checked in on. Ah, now - was fairly certain he was in the right hallway, the curtains across the doors to the private rooms were of heavy and rich enough fabrics, but which one was hers? Then he smiled to himself, just a flicker of private amusement, before pausing to listen. The purple curtain, of course, not royal purple, but that shade, the expensive but not impossibly exorbitant shade that she loved.
Knowing he was gambling that she was alone, and that she wouldn't freak out at an unexpected man's entrance, the gladiator slipped silently through the curtain, quickly tugging it back into place as he murmured quietly, "Your Highness?"
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It was late enough that those who had come for the court session would offend nobody by leaving, and not yet late enough that it could be considered rude to stay, which meant it would be rude for the hosts to leave the great hall just yet - or at the very least, they were hopefully unwilling to while there was still unofficial politicking to do. It was Lesley's turn to take a break and get something to eat, his second break of the night, in fact - it was quite unreasonable to expect a man to stay completely alert while bored and on his feet all night with nothing to eat or drink, especially when he was not inured to such duties as professional soldiers were, and those organizing the guards for the night were well aware of it. His first, however, had been only long enough to have something to drink, relieve himself, and slip out of his armour long enough to stretch the kink out of his spine. Besides, he tried not to be predictable enough to get into trouble at the first opportunity.
The leftovers and second-bests provided to feed the guards were still better than anything available in the lower city at any time, but the difference was particularly stark, now, with the threat of famine looming. Lesley was neither surprised nor offended; it was as it was, and regardless of his naturally contrary habit of treating his betters as if they weren't, he still accepted it as the gods' will that others had been born with more power, just as it was that others had been born with more beauty. He ate quickly, not rushing, but with the habitual efficiency of a slave or servant who was rarely allowed more than the absolute minimum time to eat or take care of anything else for themselves. He was supposed to have enough time to properly rest, this time, but he wasn't tired and the mens' breaks had been staggered such that there were as few off-duty at a time as feasible, and in a brief moment when he was alone, he grabbed a chlamys one of the Athenian guards had discarded - not the man who'd just stepped out to use the latrine, Les was careful enough of that - and slipped it around his shoulders as he left.
The night was clear and cool enough that a cloak was not out of place, though neither was it entirely necessary, and Lesley faintly caught the fresh salt smell of wind coming off the sea. With his distinctive tattoos covered again, and the confident step of a soldier following orders, he headed through the courtyard and towards the area where, if his memory was to be trusted, the royals had their private quarters. Foolish, risky... if someone recognized that he should not be where he was, the night was unlikely to end well, and he had never been in this area before, and even if he had he would have no way of knowing which room was hers. While he recognized the need for caution, though, Lesley didn't spend a single thought berating himself for his foolishness; when the impulse had struck him, he hadn't even questioned it. It wasn't loyalty - not to the monarchy, at any rate. But she was cute and kind and had generally not acted like a stuck-up prig, even flirted with him a bit, and Les had decided he liked her, and now she had been, apparently, ill or otherwise indisposed for months - and the somewhat crazy gladiator might be willing to kill his friends, but never abandon them.
As was his habit when in such stratified environs - and to someone of Lesley's status, anywhere in the upper city qualified - he kept his eyes where they belonged and his ears open. Luckily a patrolling guard had reason to be looking around, but he was careful to do so in the right way. He saw a couple slaves, but nobody of importance, and the fragment of a conversation he overheard, as one asked another how her highness was doing, convinced him both that he was headed in the right direction and that she needed to be checked in on. Ah, now - was fairly certain he was in the right hallway, the curtains across the doors to the private rooms were of heavy and rich enough fabrics, but which one was hers? Then he smiled to himself, just a flicker of private amusement, before pausing to listen. The purple curtain, of course, not royal purple, but that shade, the expensive but not impossibly exorbitant shade that she loved.
Knowing he was gambling that she was alone, and that she wouldn't freak out at an unexpected man's entrance, the gladiator slipped silently through the curtain, quickly tugging it back into place as he murmured quietly, "Your Highness?"
It was late enough that those who had come for the court session would offend nobody by leaving, and not yet late enough that it could be considered rude to stay, which meant it would be rude for the hosts to leave the great hall just yet - or at the very least, they were hopefully unwilling to while there was still unofficial politicking to do. It was Lesley's turn to take a break and get something to eat, his second break of the night, in fact - it was quite unreasonable to expect a man to stay completely alert while bored and on his feet all night with nothing to eat or drink, especially when he was not inured to such duties as professional soldiers were, and those organizing the guards for the night were well aware of it. His first, however, had been only long enough to have something to drink, relieve himself, and slip out of his armour long enough to stretch the kink out of his spine. Besides, he tried not to be predictable enough to get into trouble at the first opportunity.
The leftovers and second-bests provided to feed the guards were still better than anything available in the lower city at any time, but the difference was particularly stark, now, with the threat of famine looming. Lesley was neither surprised nor offended; it was as it was, and regardless of his naturally contrary habit of treating his betters as if they weren't, he still accepted it as the gods' will that others had been born with more power, just as it was that others had been born with more beauty. He ate quickly, not rushing, but with the habitual efficiency of a slave or servant who was rarely allowed more than the absolute minimum time to eat or take care of anything else for themselves. He was supposed to have enough time to properly rest, this time, but he wasn't tired and the mens' breaks had been staggered such that there were as few off-duty at a time as feasible, and in a brief moment when he was alone, he grabbed a chlamys one of the Athenian guards had discarded - not the man who'd just stepped out to use the latrine, Les was careful enough of that - and slipped it around his shoulders as he left.
The night was clear and cool enough that a cloak was not out of place, though neither was it entirely necessary, and Lesley faintly caught the fresh salt smell of wind coming off the sea. With his distinctive tattoos covered again, and the confident step of a soldier following orders, he headed through the courtyard and towards the area where, if his memory was to be trusted, the royals had their private quarters. Foolish, risky... if someone recognized that he should not be where he was, the night was unlikely to end well, and he had never been in this area before, and even if he had he would have no way of knowing which room was hers. While he recognized the need for caution, though, Lesley didn't spend a single thought berating himself for his foolishness; when the impulse had struck him, he hadn't even questioned it. It wasn't loyalty - not to the monarchy, at any rate. But she was cute and kind and had generally not acted like a stuck-up prig, even flirted with him a bit, and Les had decided he liked her, and now she had been, apparently, ill or otherwise indisposed for months - and the somewhat crazy gladiator might be willing to kill his friends, but never abandon them.
As was his habit when in such stratified environs - and to someone of Lesley's status, anywhere in the upper city qualified - he kept his eyes where they belonged and his ears open. Luckily a patrolling guard had reason to be looking around, but he was careful to do so in the right way. He saw a couple slaves, but nobody of importance, and the fragment of a conversation he overheard, as one asked another how her highness was doing, convinced him both that he was headed in the right direction and that she needed to be checked in on. Ah, now - was fairly certain he was in the right hallway, the curtains across the doors to the private rooms were of heavy and rich enough fabrics, but which one was hers? Then he smiled to himself, just a flicker of private amusement, before pausing to listen. The purple curtain, of course, not royal purple, but that shade, the expensive but not impossibly exorbitant shade that she loved.
Knowing he was gambling that she was alone, and that she wouldn't freak out at an unexpected man's entrance, the gladiator slipped silently through the curtain, quickly tugging it back into place as he murmured quietly, "Your Highness?"
She was not used to this at all.
Every court session usually meant Emilia would have woken up late, spent half the day getting ready and fussing over accessories and color matching shoes and outfits, before finally appearing at court with her sister, regaling the nobility with small talk and tales until late into the night, where the young princess would retire to bed with a tired body but a happy mind. That had been Emilia's life as she knew it ever since she started attending court sessions just two years prior.
But then again, what about life over the past three weeks had been anywhere near normal.
She had never spent so long within the four walls of the palace, so much so that her childhood home was now beginning to feel like a gilded cage. For once, Emilia felt this longing to go far beyond the walls of the palati, the borders of Athenia, simply because she was bored out of her mind wandering the hallways with only Labros as her companion. The black mastiff had grown considerably over the last two months Emilia has had him, and now doggedly follows her at her heels wherever she went. An episode with a guard meant Labros now nipped at anyone who came too close to his mistress, and Emilia felt infinitely safer with the mastiff ever since the night the insurgents had broke into her room and managed to kill her whole bevy of guards and servants.
There was only so much one could wander in the hallways however. Over the many weeks that had passed, Emilia had believed the words of the Stravos. Afterall, had Elias not told her he had came to help, in lieu of her sister's absence? Emilia was not at all capable of running a kingdom, even if she was technically, under Senate law, the heir to the crown should her sister not return. But Emilia was not prepared for it. She had no wish to run a kingdom, but simply to be an assistance.
So when Elias had offered the assistance, she had welcomed it. But welcoming it also meant the rest of the Stravos suddenly had free reign of the palati, and Emilia had then had to bear witness to her cousin's sudden change in attitude, and her aunt's words regarding her sister.
All in all, it had been a stressful month for Emilia.
And this evening, to top it all off, despite her being informed that there would be a court session that evening, Emilia had then been told by Elias that she would not be attending, for her attendance would be a risk to herself. 'The insurgents have not been found and we would not know why or who they are looking for now.' he had said, citing her safety. Again. Surely in a hall full of nobility, whoever the attackers were wouldn't dare try anything? But whatever she said simply fell on deaf ears.
So as the music wound down below in the hall, Emilia found herself in her rooms, dressed simply in a pale yellow chiton with nary accessories and her hair slightly mussed up. It was a rare sight, for the vain princess was never seen with a hair out of place. But after three weeks of being cooped up, she had found herself not bothering what she wore now. Who would see anyhow?
Leaning against the balcony of her room that oversaw the jagged cliffs with the crash of the waves from the Aegean sea, the warm breeze toyed with her brunette locks, her mind replaying events of the last few weeks. Her dinner sat untouched on the table, the servants due to come collect her tray soon. Lost in her thought, the princess didn't even notice anyone coming until a low growl started at her feet, her mastiff snarling at the direction of the curtains covering her room entrance, just as the fabric flapped and someone stepped in.
A low voice made the decible of the snarls from Labros grow, and in the shadows, Emilia had to squint as she backed away, a wary voice voicing her thoughts. "Who goes there?"
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She was not used to this at all.
Every court session usually meant Emilia would have woken up late, spent half the day getting ready and fussing over accessories and color matching shoes and outfits, before finally appearing at court with her sister, regaling the nobility with small talk and tales until late into the night, where the young princess would retire to bed with a tired body but a happy mind. That had been Emilia's life as she knew it ever since she started attending court sessions just two years prior.
But then again, what about life over the past three weeks had been anywhere near normal.
She had never spent so long within the four walls of the palace, so much so that her childhood home was now beginning to feel like a gilded cage. For once, Emilia felt this longing to go far beyond the walls of the palati, the borders of Athenia, simply because she was bored out of her mind wandering the hallways with only Labros as her companion. The black mastiff had grown considerably over the last two months Emilia has had him, and now doggedly follows her at her heels wherever she went. An episode with a guard meant Labros now nipped at anyone who came too close to his mistress, and Emilia felt infinitely safer with the mastiff ever since the night the insurgents had broke into her room and managed to kill her whole bevy of guards and servants.
There was only so much one could wander in the hallways however. Over the many weeks that had passed, Emilia had believed the words of the Stravos. Afterall, had Elias not told her he had came to help, in lieu of her sister's absence? Emilia was not at all capable of running a kingdom, even if she was technically, under Senate law, the heir to the crown should her sister not return. But Emilia was not prepared for it. She had no wish to run a kingdom, but simply to be an assistance.
So when Elias had offered the assistance, she had welcomed it. But welcoming it also meant the rest of the Stravos suddenly had free reign of the palati, and Emilia had then had to bear witness to her cousin's sudden change in attitude, and her aunt's words regarding her sister.
All in all, it had been a stressful month for Emilia.
And this evening, to top it all off, despite her being informed that there would be a court session that evening, Emilia had then been told by Elias that she would not be attending, for her attendance would be a risk to herself. 'The insurgents have not been found and we would not know why or who they are looking for now.' he had said, citing her safety. Again. Surely in a hall full of nobility, whoever the attackers were wouldn't dare try anything? But whatever she said simply fell on deaf ears.
So as the music wound down below in the hall, Emilia found herself in her rooms, dressed simply in a pale yellow chiton with nary accessories and her hair slightly mussed up. It was a rare sight, for the vain princess was never seen with a hair out of place. But after three weeks of being cooped up, she had found herself not bothering what she wore now. Who would see anyhow?
Leaning against the balcony of her room that oversaw the jagged cliffs with the crash of the waves from the Aegean sea, the warm breeze toyed with her brunette locks, her mind replaying events of the last few weeks. Her dinner sat untouched on the table, the servants due to come collect her tray soon. Lost in her thought, the princess didn't even notice anyone coming until a low growl started at her feet, her mastiff snarling at the direction of the curtains covering her room entrance, just as the fabric flapped and someone stepped in.
A low voice made the decible of the snarls from Labros grow, and in the shadows, Emilia had to squint as she backed away, a wary voice voicing her thoughts. "Who goes there?"
She was not used to this at all.
Every court session usually meant Emilia would have woken up late, spent half the day getting ready and fussing over accessories and color matching shoes and outfits, before finally appearing at court with her sister, regaling the nobility with small talk and tales until late into the night, where the young princess would retire to bed with a tired body but a happy mind. That had been Emilia's life as she knew it ever since she started attending court sessions just two years prior.
But then again, what about life over the past three weeks had been anywhere near normal.
She had never spent so long within the four walls of the palace, so much so that her childhood home was now beginning to feel like a gilded cage. For once, Emilia felt this longing to go far beyond the walls of the palati, the borders of Athenia, simply because she was bored out of her mind wandering the hallways with only Labros as her companion. The black mastiff had grown considerably over the last two months Emilia has had him, and now doggedly follows her at her heels wherever she went. An episode with a guard meant Labros now nipped at anyone who came too close to his mistress, and Emilia felt infinitely safer with the mastiff ever since the night the insurgents had broke into her room and managed to kill her whole bevy of guards and servants.
There was only so much one could wander in the hallways however. Over the many weeks that had passed, Emilia had believed the words of the Stravos. Afterall, had Elias not told her he had came to help, in lieu of her sister's absence? Emilia was not at all capable of running a kingdom, even if she was technically, under Senate law, the heir to the crown should her sister not return. But Emilia was not prepared for it. She had no wish to run a kingdom, but simply to be an assistance.
So when Elias had offered the assistance, she had welcomed it. But welcoming it also meant the rest of the Stravos suddenly had free reign of the palati, and Emilia had then had to bear witness to her cousin's sudden change in attitude, and her aunt's words regarding her sister.
All in all, it had been a stressful month for Emilia.
And this evening, to top it all off, despite her being informed that there would be a court session that evening, Emilia had then been told by Elias that she would not be attending, for her attendance would be a risk to herself. 'The insurgents have not been found and we would not know why or who they are looking for now.' he had said, citing her safety. Again. Surely in a hall full of nobility, whoever the attackers were wouldn't dare try anything? But whatever she said simply fell on deaf ears.
So as the music wound down below in the hall, Emilia found herself in her rooms, dressed simply in a pale yellow chiton with nary accessories and her hair slightly mussed up. It was a rare sight, for the vain princess was never seen with a hair out of place. But after three weeks of being cooped up, she had found herself not bothering what she wore now. Who would see anyhow?
Leaning against the balcony of her room that oversaw the jagged cliffs with the crash of the waves from the Aegean sea, the warm breeze toyed with her brunette locks, her mind replaying events of the last few weeks. Her dinner sat untouched on the table, the servants due to come collect her tray soon. Lost in her thought, the princess didn't even notice anyone coming until a low growl started at her feet, her mastiff snarling at the direction of the curtains covering her room entrance, just as the fabric flapped and someone stepped in.
A low voice made the decible of the snarls from Labros grow, and in the shadows, Emilia had to squint as she backed away, a wary voice voicing her thoughts. "Who goes there?"
"Easy." He breathed out silently, deliberately relaxing even further, keeping his voice calm and even. Imagine getting this far only to get mauled by the princess's own guard dog. "It's Lesley." He hadn't considered she might have a dog. Well, that shouldn't complicate things unless she decided he was a threat. Best not to dick around, though. "They said you were ill, but, I also heard you weren't, so... I came to make sure you weren't actually under house arrest, or something."
Fool notion, he finally realized. Quite aside from their difference in rank - which regardless of the extent to which either of them cared, would certainly have a profound effect if he got caught - she would be well within her rights to toss him out, call the guards, or set her dog on him simply for the rudeness inherent in letting himself in to a woman's bedchamber uninvited. Not to mention, a well-armed man sneaking around where he didn't belong to find a woman with a rank many must think she oughtn't have, while the palace was teeming with enough extra guards that it certainly looked like someone was expecting an attack of some sort... Totally doesn't look suspicious at all. Idiot. He'd known the outcome if anybody else caught him, but somehow it wasn't until he heard the worry in her voice it hadn't occurred to him that she might doubt his intentions.
But... who's word would he have trusted, if he hadn't come to see for himself?
He felt an impulse to apologize and quickly let himself back out, but he squashed it before anything more than a momentary awkward look had time to cross his face. He was committed; if she took offense she certainly knew where to find him again, far better to face his consequences here and now. Running had never been his style.
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"Easy." He breathed out silently, deliberately relaxing even further, keeping his voice calm and even. Imagine getting this far only to get mauled by the princess's own guard dog. "It's Lesley." He hadn't considered she might have a dog. Well, that shouldn't complicate things unless she decided he was a threat. Best not to dick around, though. "They said you were ill, but, I also heard you weren't, so... I came to make sure you weren't actually under house arrest, or something."
Fool notion, he finally realized. Quite aside from their difference in rank - which regardless of the extent to which either of them cared, would certainly have a profound effect if he got caught - she would be well within her rights to toss him out, call the guards, or set her dog on him simply for the rudeness inherent in letting himself in to a woman's bedchamber uninvited. Not to mention, a well-armed man sneaking around where he didn't belong to find a woman with a rank many must think she oughtn't have, while the palace was teeming with enough extra guards that it certainly looked like someone was expecting an attack of some sort... Totally doesn't look suspicious at all. Idiot. He'd known the outcome if anybody else caught him, but somehow it wasn't until he heard the worry in her voice it hadn't occurred to him that she might doubt his intentions.
But... who's word would he have trusted, if he hadn't come to see for himself?
He felt an impulse to apologize and quickly let himself back out, but he squashed it before anything more than a momentary awkward look had time to cross his face. He was committed; if she took offense she certainly knew where to find him again, far better to face his consequences here and now. Running had never been his style.
"Easy." He breathed out silently, deliberately relaxing even further, keeping his voice calm and even. Imagine getting this far only to get mauled by the princess's own guard dog. "It's Lesley." He hadn't considered she might have a dog. Well, that shouldn't complicate things unless she decided he was a threat. Best not to dick around, though. "They said you were ill, but, I also heard you weren't, so... I came to make sure you weren't actually under house arrest, or something."
Fool notion, he finally realized. Quite aside from their difference in rank - which regardless of the extent to which either of them cared, would certainly have a profound effect if he got caught - she would be well within her rights to toss him out, call the guards, or set her dog on him simply for the rudeness inherent in letting himself in to a woman's bedchamber uninvited. Not to mention, a well-armed man sneaking around where he didn't belong to find a woman with a rank many must think she oughtn't have, while the palace was teeming with enough extra guards that it certainly looked like someone was expecting an attack of some sort... Totally doesn't look suspicious at all. Idiot. He'd known the outcome if anybody else caught him, but somehow it wasn't until he heard the worry in her voice it hadn't occurred to him that she might doubt his intentions.
But... who's word would he have trusted, if he hadn't come to see for himself?
He felt an impulse to apologize and quickly let himself back out, but he squashed it before anything more than a momentary awkward look had time to cross his face. He was committed; if she took offense she certainly knew where to find him again, far better to face his consequences here and now. Running had never been his style.
Like a cat skittish and easily frightened, that was akin to Emilia's state of mind right now. After so many uncertain things that had happened, the young princess was easily startled, and her nervousness only washed off on her constant canine companion, which meant Labros snarled at the nearest irritation lately, most of the time the guards that Elias had assigned to watch over Emilia.
Still alert for Emilia's tone however, the black mastiff eased off on the snarling once Emilia laid a hand on his scruff the moment she heard the name. Pausing to ascertain for herself if it was indeed the man he said he was as her eyes shifted to the dark interiors of her room, only when she finally identified the gladiator she had met many moons ago, did she raise up from her crouched position next to her dog with a tentative smile.
"I am not ill so much more as you are hurt, but that is a debatable topic of course. I'm not physically ill, if that was what you were wondering." The word house arrest had Emilia paused, for the first time considering such matters. Was she? Elias had quoted her safety when he disallowed her from leaving the palati, but that in itself made sense. Afterall, the insurgents that had come to attack the palati had surely been after the throne, and with her sister out of the way, she was next in line.
And it also made sense to Emilia that Elias would assist in running the kingdom. Afterall, the young brunette had no experience at all in running a kingdom, and neither did she particularly wish to. Unlike Persephone, Emilia was quite content with fabrics and fashion. The idea of stepping into her father's shoes terrified her.
But... house arrest? Was she? Come to think of it, she had not stepped outside of the palati in weeks, merely taking Elias's words as golden, and had at most explored the gardens of her childhood home. If she insisted she was to go out.... could she?
The uncertainty showed on her face as she eventually replied Lesley, taking a few steps towards him. "I don't.... think I am?" she paused, and then asked a genuinely eager question to the gladiator. "How have things been? Elias tells me he's running the kingdom and... and I'm not the best candidate for ruler in the absence of my sister, so I guess Elias the next best choice. But how have things been outside with Athenia?" Despite her apparent light moments, Emilia did truly care for the people of her kingdom. That concern however, did not translate to make her a good decision-maker. Yet true concern showed in her eyes, as she stood there in front of Lesley, Labros still plastered to the side of her calf, albeit with a lot less growling.
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Like a cat skittish and easily frightened, that was akin to Emilia's state of mind right now. After so many uncertain things that had happened, the young princess was easily startled, and her nervousness only washed off on her constant canine companion, which meant Labros snarled at the nearest irritation lately, most of the time the guards that Elias had assigned to watch over Emilia.
Still alert for Emilia's tone however, the black mastiff eased off on the snarling once Emilia laid a hand on his scruff the moment she heard the name. Pausing to ascertain for herself if it was indeed the man he said he was as her eyes shifted to the dark interiors of her room, only when she finally identified the gladiator she had met many moons ago, did she raise up from her crouched position next to her dog with a tentative smile.
"I am not ill so much more as you are hurt, but that is a debatable topic of course. I'm not physically ill, if that was what you were wondering." The word house arrest had Emilia paused, for the first time considering such matters. Was she? Elias had quoted her safety when he disallowed her from leaving the palati, but that in itself made sense. Afterall, the insurgents that had come to attack the palati had surely been after the throne, and with her sister out of the way, she was next in line.
And it also made sense to Emilia that Elias would assist in running the kingdom. Afterall, the young brunette had no experience at all in running a kingdom, and neither did she particularly wish to. Unlike Persephone, Emilia was quite content with fabrics and fashion. The idea of stepping into her father's shoes terrified her.
But... house arrest? Was she? Come to think of it, she had not stepped outside of the palati in weeks, merely taking Elias's words as golden, and had at most explored the gardens of her childhood home. If she insisted she was to go out.... could she?
The uncertainty showed on her face as she eventually replied Lesley, taking a few steps towards him. "I don't.... think I am?" she paused, and then asked a genuinely eager question to the gladiator. "How have things been? Elias tells me he's running the kingdom and... and I'm not the best candidate for ruler in the absence of my sister, so I guess Elias the next best choice. But how have things been outside with Athenia?" Despite her apparent light moments, Emilia did truly care for the people of her kingdom. That concern however, did not translate to make her a good decision-maker. Yet true concern showed in her eyes, as she stood there in front of Lesley, Labros still plastered to the side of her calf, albeit with a lot less growling.
Like a cat skittish and easily frightened, that was akin to Emilia's state of mind right now. After so many uncertain things that had happened, the young princess was easily startled, and her nervousness only washed off on her constant canine companion, which meant Labros snarled at the nearest irritation lately, most of the time the guards that Elias had assigned to watch over Emilia.
Still alert for Emilia's tone however, the black mastiff eased off on the snarling once Emilia laid a hand on his scruff the moment she heard the name. Pausing to ascertain for herself if it was indeed the man he said he was as her eyes shifted to the dark interiors of her room, only when she finally identified the gladiator she had met many moons ago, did she raise up from her crouched position next to her dog with a tentative smile.
"I am not ill so much more as you are hurt, but that is a debatable topic of course. I'm not physically ill, if that was what you were wondering." The word house arrest had Emilia paused, for the first time considering such matters. Was she? Elias had quoted her safety when he disallowed her from leaving the palati, but that in itself made sense. Afterall, the insurgents that had come to attack the palati had surely been after the throne, and with her sister out of the way, she was next in line.
And it also made sense to Emilia that Elias would assist in running the kingdom. Afterall, the young brunette had no experience at all in running a kingdom, and neither did she particularly wish to. Unlike Persephone, Emilia was quite content with fabrics and fashion. The idea of stepping into her father's shoes terrified her.
But... house arrest? Was she? Come to think of it, she had not stepped outside of the palati in weeks, merely taking Elias's words as golden, and had at most explored the gardens of her childhood home. If she insisted she was to go out.... could she?
The uncertainty showed on her face as she eventually replied Lesley, taking a few steps towards him. "I don't.... think I am?" she paused, and then asked a genuinely eager question to the gladiator. "How have things been? Elias tells me he's running the kingdom and... and I'm not the best candidate for ruler in the absence of my sister, so I guess Elias the next best choice. But how have things been outside with Athenia?" Despite her apparent light moments, Emilia did truly care for the people of her kingdom. That concern however, did not translate to make her a good decision-maker. Yet true concern showed in her eyes, as she stood there in front of Lesley, Labros still plastered to the side of her calf, albeit with a lot less growling.
Les gave the young woman a thoughtful look, dark eyes clouded, and then looked away and adjusted his grip on his spear - not with a sense of uncertainty, but reminding himself to control his language.
"My Lord Elias is either incompetent, which I have reason to doubt, lazily unconcerned with the consequences of failing to put any effort into ruling, or a scheming -" he coughed on the first word that came to mind, and managed to substitute "viper. His mother certainly strikes me as one." He gave her a somewhat worried look, and added, "I apologize for speaking ill of your family so bluntly, my lady, but I am significantly out of practice with the sort of manners you are doubtless used to." He was trying, at least - he certainly sounded more cultured than he had at the arcus, and the awkwardness that showed his awareness of the difference in their ranks began to fade as he caught his stride, so to speak, and continued, "If you will trust a fighter's blunt honesty, though, here is the situation: famine is coming, and not just because of the heat and poor harvests, though most common folk in the city probably can't tell the difference. If it was just a drought, meat would be cheap, as the farm folk culled their herds to what they thought they could continue to feed, and imports wouldn't yet be affected yet, but it is the imports that are in shortest supply, and prices on everything are too high, from dyes and silks to fish straight from the local docks. I took the night's work here because I need the money and daren't fight - I'm not as young as I was, and if my mother's shop becomes unprofitable, without my income..." He shook his head, dismissing his private troubles. It was an illustration of the problem, but not the main point.
"The senate hasn't convened, and Lord Elias has been saying it's because you refuse to allow it. The shortages could be explained by war, or the threat of it, but the military hasn't mobilized, so either they are manufactured, or someone is incompetent - even if the merchant ships are staying home because Colchis and Tangea are spitting at each other, or some such, Athenia should have her defenses ready, and her ships offering protection to those carrying the most important cargoes. The talk about the city is that having women in power has proven to be a mistake, since both you and your sister have proven you will put your personal safety above the good of the kingdom. Or, in your case, that the stress of it has overwhelmed you, causing your supposed illness. The noble houses are snapping at each other like a pack of dogs if Athenia was a haunch of meat they weren't quite sure has been left unclaimed by their masters, and there's already been one riot over water shortages - or over rumors of water shortages, I should say; the wells are low, but they're not that low. The agora is full of angry men shouting about the government rather than philosophers arguing about the nature of the soul or the exact appearance of a chimera." Lesley's opinion about philosophers could be extrapolated from that subtle bit of snark, but that was so far from the main point he wasn't even aware it had crept into his tone.
He blew out his breath in a sigh, knowing he'd dumped quite a lot on her all at once. Unfortunately, he didn't have a lot of time. "If I had to guess, assuming that between my lord Elias and my lady Cicerena there is some plan to all this, and seeing that you are in fact well, and that you don't know anything that is going on - my guess is they will force you to marry Elias so that he's unmistakably the heir through either set of inheritance laws, declare your sister dead after some visible attempt to find her, and once he's 'taken over' from you, reconvene the senate, lure the merchants back to solve the shortages, and so forth. Probably time it around when the fall rains are expected, too." Nothing like a little manufactured divine providence to secure a claim to a throne.
He could have continued, but he stopped himself, and waited to see if she needed some time to process all that first. He listened carefully, in that first moment of silence - if he was right, anyone letting Elias know he'd just told her all that was probably not of any benefit to either of their safety. He knew he wouldn't be able to tell if someone was standing quietly outside the door, but no-one should have any reason to be deliberately spying on the princess at this hour. Hopefully.
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Les gave the young woman a thoughtful look, dark eyes clouded, and then looked away and adjusted his grip on his spear - not with a sense of uncertainty, but reminding himself to control his language.
"My Lord Elias is either incompetent, which I have reason to doubt, lazily unconcerned with the consequences of failing to put any effort into ruling, or a scheming -" he coughed on the first word that came to mind, and managed to substitute "viper. His mother certainly strikes me as one." He gave her a somewhat worried look, and added, "I apologize for speaking ill of your family so bluntly, my lady, but I am significantly out of practice with the sort of manners you are doubtless used to." He was trying, at least - he certainly sounded more cultured than he had at the arcus, and the awkwardness that showed his awareness of the difference in their ranks began to fade as he caught his stride, so to speak, and continued, "If you will trust a fighter's blunt honesty, though, here is the situation: famine is coming, and not just because of the heat and poor harvests, though most common folk in the city probably can't tell the difference. If it was just a drought, meat would be cheap, as the farm folk culled their herds to what they thought they could continue to feed, and imports wouldn't yet be affected yet, but it is the imports that are in shortest supply, and prices on everything are too high, from dyes and silks to fish straight from the local docks. I took the night's work here because I need the money and daren't fight - I'm not as young as I was, and if my mother's shop becomes unprofitable, without my income..." He shook his head, dismissing his private troubles. It was an illustration of the problem, but not the main point.
"The senate hasn't convened, and Lord Elias has been saying it's because you refuse to allow it. The shortages could be explained by war, or the threat of it, but the military hasn't mobilized, so either they are manufactured, or someone is incompetent - even if the merchant ships are staying home because Colchis and Tangea are spitting at each other, or some such, Athenia should have her defenses ready, and her ships offering protection to those carrying the most important cargoes. The talk about the city is that having women in power has proven to be a mistake, since both you and your sister have proven you will put your personal safety above the good of the kingdom. Or, in your case, that the stress of it has overwhelmed you, causing your supposed illness. The noble houses are snapping at each other like a pack of dogs if Athenia was a haunch of meat they weren't quite sure has been left unclaimed by their masters, and there's already been one riot over water shortages - or over rumors of water shortages, I should say; the wells are low, but they're not that low. The agora is full of angry men shouting about the government rather than philosophers arguing about the nature of the soul or the exact appearance of a chimera." Lesley's opinion about philosophers could be extrapolated from that subtle bit of snark, but that was so far from the main point he wasn't even aware it had crept into his tone.
He blew out his breath in a sigh, knowing he'd dumped quite a lot on her all at once. Unfortunately, he didn't have a lot of time. "If I had to guess, assuming that between my lord Elias and my lady Cicerena there is some plan to all this, and seeing that you are in fact well, and that you don't know anything that is going on - my guess is they will force you to marry Elias so that he's unmistakably the heir through either set of inheritance laws, declare your sister dead after some visible attempt to find her, and once he's 'taken over' from you, reconvene the senate, lure the merchants back to solve the shortages, and so forth. Probably time it around when the fall rains are expected, too." Nothing like a little manufactured divine providence to secure a claim to a throne.
He could have continued, but he stopped himself, and waited to see if she needed some time to process all that first. He listened carefully, in that first moment of silence - if he was right, anyone letting Elias know he'd just told her all that was probably not of any benefit to either of their safety. He knew he wouldn't be able to tell if someone was standing quietly outside the door, but no-one should have any reason to be deliberately spying on the princess at this hour. Hopefully.
Les gave the young woman a thoughtful look, dark eyes clouded, and then looked away and adjusted his grip on his spear - not with a sense of uncertainty, but reminding himself to control his language.
"My Lord Elias is either incompetent, which I have reason to doubt, lazily unconcerned with the consequences of failing to put any effort into ruling, or a scheming -" he coughed on the first word that came to mind, and managed to substitute "viper. His mother certainly strikes me as one." He gave her a somewhat worried look, and added, "I apologize for speaking ill of your family so bluntly, my lady, but I am significantly out of practice with the sort of manners you are doubtless used to." He was trying, at least - he certainly sounded more cultured than he had at the arcus, and the awkwardness that showed his awareness of the difference in their ranks began to fade as he caught his stride, so to speak, and continued, "If you will trust a fighter's blunt honesty, though, here is the situation: famine is coming, and not just because of the heat and poor harvests, though most common folk in the city probably can't tell the difference. If it was just a drought, meat would be cheap, as the farm folk culled their herds to what they thought they could continue to feed, and imports wouldn't yet be affected yet, but it is the imports that are in shortest supply, and prices on everything are too high, from dyes and silks to fish straight from the local docks. I took the night's work here because I need the money and daren't fight - I'm not as young as I was, and if my mother's shop becomes unprofitable, without my income..." He shook his head, dismissing his private troubles. It was an illustration of the problem, but not the main point.
"The senate hasn't convened, and Lord Elias has been saying it's because you refuse to allow it. The shortages could be explained by war, or the threat of it, but the military hasn't mobilized, so either they are manufactured, or someone is incompetent - even if the merchant ships are staying home because Colchis and Tangea are spitting at each other, or some such, Athenia should have her defenses ready, and her ships offering protection to those carrying the most important cargoes. The talk about the city is that having women in power has proven to be a mistake, since both you and your sister have proven you will put your personal safety above the good of the kingdom. Or, in your case, that the stress of it has overwhelmed you, causing your supposed illness. The noble houses are snapping at each other like a pack of dogs if Athenia was a haunch of meat they weren't quite sure has been left unclaimed by their masters, and there's already been one riot over water shortages - or over rumors of water shortages, I should say; the wells are low, but they're not that low. The agora is full of angry men shouting about the government rather than philosophers arguing about the nature of the soul or the exact appearance of a chimera." Lesley's opinion about philosophers could be extrapolated from that subtle bit of snark, but that was so far from the main point he wasn't even aware it had crept into his tone.
He blew out his breath in a sigh, knowing he'd dumped quite a lot on her all at once. Unfortunately, he didn't have a lot of time. "If I had to guess, assuming that between my lord Elias and my lady Cicerena there is some plan to all this, and seeing that you are in fact well, and that you don't know anything that is going on - my guess is they will force you to marry Elias so that he's unmistakably the heir through either set of inheritance laws, declare your sister dead after some visible attempt to find her, and once he's 'taken over' from you, reconvene the senate, lure the merchants back to solve the shortages, and so forth. Probably time it around when the fall rains are expected, too." Nothing like a little manufactured divine providence to secure a claim to a throne.
He could have continued, but he stopped himself, and waited to see if she needed some time to process all that first. He listened carefully, in that first moment of silence - if he was right, anyone letting Elias know he'd just told her all that was probably not of any benefit to either of their safety. He knew he wouldn't be able to tell if someone was standing quietly outside the door, but no-one should have any reason to be deliberately spying on the princess at this hour. Hopefully.
He spoke with much intensity, that Emilia found her body coiling with every word he said. Elias? Incompetent? But he had spoke and waxed such beautiful plans he had for Athenia, how he would keep the kingdom running while they figured out a plan to think and solve what had happened to Persephone and who the insurgents were. What had happened to those plans now? And her aunt - that Lesley would refer to Circenia made Emilia's hazel eyes widen. Her aunt had visited her a few times, and while Danae had made her honest opinions of Emilia known now, Circenia had seemed nothing but kind and caring, thoughtful and concerned for Emilia's wellbeing.
A frown crept on her forehead, as the young seventeen-year old sorted out how much of this could she believe. Afterall, on the one hand, Elias and Circenia were her family and all she had over the past few weeks... but she had never known Lesley to be a liar, and what could he gain from any of this anyway? If he was to be believed, famine and tough times were coming for Athenians... and what had Elias done about it?
Even as nubile as she was regarding political matters, even Emilia could recognize that when Senate has not convened in over three weeks, there would be unrest and worry among the nobles and people. And that she was the one who had not called it, when she had all but sat in her room over the past few weeks? Emilia could practically tell one the number of threads she had in her curtains at this point, with how much time she's spent indoors. What would she have to do with Senate meets?
"That's preposterous!" the young princess interjected with, for once, what sounded like an irritated tone. "My sister is not in the kingdom, and I have not had a hand in any of the decisions Lord Elias has made." But even as she said it, Emilia recognized how bad it sounded. With Persephone not around, technically Emilia would be next in line to ensure the kingdom ran smoothly. But she had entrusted that task to Elias, trusting his smooth words and his confident strut. It was her fault. She had failed both her sister and her father by trusting the wrong person.
"And what has Lord Elias done regarding the food shortages, and the water shortages?" she asked, her hand leaving Labros's scruff as she took a few steps closer to the gladiator, a worried and pinched look appearing on her face. The assumptions of Lesley brought a far away look to Emilia's eyes, as if she was thinking thoroughly before replying. "He cannot marry me if I do not agree." A staunch believer of Aphrodite, Emilia had always thought she would never marry unless it is for love - and she had been lucky insofar that her father and sister had indulged her.
Yet, what could she say in the face of a man who now controlled most of Athenian's forces and had half the noblemen in his pocket, whilst he besmirched the name of her family?
Biting her lips as solutions left her, Emilia finally turned a pair of worried hazel eyes on the man before her. "What am I to do Lesley? I can't do anything if he has painted myself and my sister in such a light to everyone... but that isn't true. I have not had a hand in any decision that you've said! I know that doesn't sound good but I... I simply cannot be a leader of a kingdom. I'm not equipped for it." the last sentence was said in a deflated tone as she had wandered to her bed, and sat heavily in it, absent mindedly stroking Labros's head as the mastiff whined with his snout on her lap. "I can't fight him. Not when .... I'm alone."
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He spoke with much intensity, that Emilia found her body coiling with every word he said. Elias? Incompetent? But he had spoke and waxed such beautiful plans he had for Athenia, how he would keep the kingdom running while they figured out a plan to think and solve what had happened to Persephone and who the insurgents were. What had happened to those plans now? And her aunt - that Lesley would refer to Circenia made Emilia's hazel eyes widen. Her aunt had visited her a few times, and while Danae had made her honest opinions of Emilia known now, Circenia had seemed nothing but kind and caring, thoughtful and concerned for Emilia's wellbeing.
A frown crept on her forehead, as the young seventeen-year old sorted out how much of this could she believe. Afterall, on the one hand, Elias and Circenia were her family and all she had over the past few weeks... but she had never known Lesley to be a liar, and what could he gain from any of this anyway? If he was to be believed, famine and tough times were coming for Athenians... and what had Elias done about it?
Even as nubile as she was regarding political matters, even Emilia could recognize that when Senate has not convened in over three weeks, there would be unrest and worry among the nobles and people. And that she was the one who had not called it, when she had all but sat in her room over the past few weeks? Emilia could practically tell one the number of threads she had in her curtains at this point, with how much time she's spent indoors. What would she have to do with Senate meets?
"That's preposterous!" the young princess interjected with, for once, what sounded like an irritated tone. "My sister is not in the kingdom, and I have not had a hand in any of the decisions Lord Elias has made." But even as she said it, Emilia recognized how bad it sounded. With Persephone not around, technically Emilia would be next in line to ensure the kingdom ran smoothly. But she had entrusted that task to Elias, trusting his smooth words and his confident strut. It was her fault. She had failed both her sister and her father by trusting the wrong person.
"And what has Lord Elias done regarding the food shortages, and the water shortages?" she asked, her hand leaving Labros's scruff as she took a few steps closer to the gladiator, a worried and pinched look appearing on her face. The assumptions of Lesley brought a far away look to Emilia's eyes, as if she was thinking thoroughly before replying. "He cannot marry me if I do not agree." A staunch believer of Aphrodite, Emilia had always thought she would never marry unless it is for love - and she had been lucky insofar that her father and sister had indulged her.
Yet, what could she say in the face of a man who now controlled most of Athenian's forces and had half the noblemen in his pocket, whilst he besmirched the name of her family?
Biting her lips as solutions left her, Emilia finally turned a pair of worried hazel eyes on the man before her. "What am I to do Lesley? I can't do anything if he has painted myself and my sister in such a light to everyone... but that isn't true. I have not had a hand in any decision that you've said! I know that doesn't sound good but I... I simply cannot be a leader of a kingdom. I'm not equipped for it." the last sentence was said in a deflated tone as she had wandered to her bed, and sat heavily in it, absent mindedly stroking Labros's head as the mastiff whined with his snout on her lap. "I can't fight him. Not when .... I'm alone."
He spoke with much intensity, that Emilia found her body coiling with every word he said. Elias? Incompetent? But he had spoke and waxed such beautiful plans he had for Athenia, how he would keep the kingdom running while they figured out a plan to think and solve what had happened to Persephone and who the insurgents were. What had happened to those plans now? And her aunt - that Lesley would refer to Circenia made Emilia's hazel eyes widen. Her aunt had visited her a few times, and while Danae had made her honest opinions of Emilia known now, Circenia had seemed nothing but kind and caring, thoughtful and concerned for Emilia's wellbeing.
A frown crept on her forehead, as the young seventeen-year old sorted out how much of this could she believe. Afterall, on the one hand, Elias and Circenia were her family and all she had over the past few weeks... but she had never known Lesley to be a liar, and what could he gain from any of this anyway? If he was to be believed, famine and tough times were coming for Athenians... and what had Elias done about it?
Even as nubile as she was regarding political matters, even Emilia could recognize that when Senate has not convened in over three weeks, there would be unrest and worry among the nobles and people. And that she was the one who had not called it, when she had all but sat in her room over the past few weeks? Emilia could practically tell one the number of threads she had in her curtains at this point, with how much time she's spent indoors. What would she have to do with Senate meets?
"That's preposterous!" the young princess interjected with, for once, what sounded like an irritated tone. "My sister is not in the kingdom, and I have not had a hand in any of the decisions Lord Elias has made." But even as she said it, Emilia recognized how bad it sounded. With Persephone not around, technically Emilia would be next in line to ensure the kingdom ran smoothly. But she had entrusted that task to Elias, trusting his smooth words and his confident strut. It was her fault. She had failed both her sister and her father by trusting the wrong person.
"And what has Lord Elias done regarding the food shortages, and the water shortages?" she asked, her hand leaving Labros's scruff as she took a few steps closer to the gladiator, a worried and pinched look appearing on her face. The assumptions of Lesley brought a far away look to Emilia's eyes, as if she was thinking thoroughly before replying. "He cannot marry me if I do not agree." A staunch believer of Aphrodite, Emilia had always thought she would never marry unless it is for love - and she had been lucky insofar that her father and sister had indulged her.
Yet, what could she say in the face of a man who now controlled most of Athenian's forces and had half the noblemen in his pocket, whilst he besmirched the name of her family?
Biting her lips as solutions left her, Emilia finally turned a pair of worried hazel eyes on the man before her. "What am I to do Lesley? I can't do anything if he has painted myself and my sister in such a light to everyone... but that isn't true. I have not had a hand in any decision that you've said! I know that doesn't sound good but I... I simply cannot be a leader of a kingdom. I'm not equipped for it." the last sentence was said in a deflated tone as she had wandered to her bed, and sat heavily in it, absent mindedly stroking Labros's head as the mastiff whined with his snout on her lap. "I can't fight him. Not when .... I'm alone."
"Force, bribe, bully, trick... same result," he shrugged in response to her assertion she couldn't be forced into marriage. There were other ways to clear the way for Elias to take the crown, but he decided not two dwell on that. Dealing with the current, certain problems was more pressing.
Lesley watched her patiently, almost expressionlessly, as she worked through her denials and confusion and came to the conclusion that she was helpless. He gave her an uncertain look, unused to dealing with noble ladies, and then decided that he wasn't going to try softening it too much. Either she had at least the seeds of a fighting spirit, and simply wasn't trained, or there was no point trying.
"You are Persephone's heir," he pointed out. "You have the authority. You just haven't been taught to wield it effectively, and you've let yourself be backed into a corner. So..." He considered the situation a moment more, then shrugged. "If you want help..." He was crazy. He actually recognized that he was crazy.
What the hell. Starving to death was boring, and at this point, selling himself back into slavery seemed not terribly interesting either. He'd already done that for over a decade. Try something else.
"It's not unusual for nobles to buy or hire gladiators as bodyguards," he suggested. "If they won't even humor your whims, that will tell you something. If they won't let you leave the property even with a guard, even just to go to the naos, that will tell you something. First find out exactly how much freedom you have when they think you're not challenging them. You can't do anything effectively if you don't use as much space as you can to maneuver."
Was he really going to help a teen girl claim a throne?
Well, maybe.
It really depended on her, didn't it? He wasn't ever going to fight for someone who wasn't going to fight for themselves, let alone for him. And even if she did step up to the line, he wasn't the type to swear undying loyalty to anyone. But - she'd been nice. and that certainly earned her something.
"If you can't get yourself out to the shops, get me a message... your ladies can come buy something for you, I'm sure." He gave her a crooked smile, and the ghost of a wink. "If there's a young noble lady who can't figure out how to get in touch with a handsome fellow without her family being any the wiser I'll eat my tunic."
He should take his leave. The longer he wasn't where anyone expected him to be, the more likely he'd get in trouble, and not the fun kind of trouble.
But seeing how close he could cut it? That part was always fun.
"What my lord Elias has done about the shortages is send more of the guard out to the city to keep the peace," he informed her. "There has been no rationing nor price controls, nor any word that I have heard of opening the royal storehouses or increasing shipments in from the provinces. In truth, there is probably no need for rationing, if it is only imports affected, but... doing something would be more reassuring, I think." Hmm, what else did she need to know. "If he hasn't told you any of this, I doubt he wants you to know." Obvious to him, but she seemed a raw beginner at politics. Lesley wasn't exactly an expert, either, but he had at least watched a fair bit of it. He frowned slightly.
"You're old enough to have been to court for years. Even if you only paid attention to the kinds of politics women do, how did you miss that something was wrong?" Soft brown eyes seemed concerned rather than critical. He didn't know nearly as much about women's politics as he needed to, to help a woman not drown in them, but the more she could tell him the better he could judge the situation.
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"Force, bribe, bully, trick... same result," he shrugged in response to her assertion she couldn't be forced into marriage. There were other ways to clear the way for Elias to take the crown, but he decided not two dwell on that. Dealing with the current, certain problems was more pressing.
Lesley watched her patiently, almost expressionlessly, as she worked through her denials and confusion and came to the conclusion that she was helpless. He gave her an uncertain look, unused to dealing with noble ladies, and then decided that he wasn't going to try softening it too much. Either she had at least the seeds of a fighting spirit, and simply wasn't trained, or there was no point trying.
"You are Persephone's heir," he pointed out. "You have the authority. You just haven't been taught to wield it effectively, and you've let yourself be backed into a corner. So..." He considered the situation a moment more, then shrugged. "If you want help..." He was crazy. He actually recognized that he was crazy.
What the hell. Starving to death was boring, and at this point, selling himself back into slavery seemed not terribly interesting either. He'd already done that for over a decade. Try something else.
"It's not unusual for nobles to buy or hire gladiators as bodyguards," he suggested. "If they won't even humor your whims, that will tell you something. If they won't let you leave the property even with a guard, even just to go to the naos, that will tell you something. First find out exactly how much freedom you have when they think you're not challenging them. You can't do anything effectively if you don't use as much space as you can to maneuver."
Was he really going to help a teen girl claim a throne?
Well, maybe.
It really depended on her, didn't it? He wasn't ever going to fight for someone who wasn't going to fight for themselves, let alone for him. And even if she did step up to the line, he wasn't the type to swear undying loyalty to anyone. But - she'd been nice. and that certainly earned her something.
"If you can't get yourself out to the shops, get me a message... your ladies can come buy something for you, I'm sure." He gave her a crooked smile, and the ghost of a wink. "If there's a young noble lady who can't figure out how to get in touch with a handsome fellow without her family being any the wiser I'll eat my tunic."
He should take his leave. The longer he wasn't where anyone expected him to be, the more likely he'd get in trouble, and not the fun kind of trouble.
But seeing how close he could cut it? That part was always fun.
"What my lord Elias has done about the shortages is send more of the guard out to the city to keep the peace," he informed her. "There has been no rationing nor price controls, nor any word that I have heard of opening the royal storehouses or increasing shipments in from the provinces. In truth, there is probably no need for rationing, if it is only imports affected, but... doing something would be more reassuring, I think." Hmm, what else did she need to know. "If he hasn't told you any of this, I doubt he wants you to know." Obvious to him, but she seemed a raw beginner at politics. Lesley wasn't exactly an expert, either, but he had at least watched a fair bit of it. He frowned slightly.
"You're old enough to have been to court for years. Even if you only paid attention to the kinds of politics women do, how did you miss that something was wrong?" Soft brown eyes seemed concerned rather than critical. He didn't know nearly as much about women's politics as he needed to, to help a woman not drown in them, but the more she could tell him the better he could judge the situation.
"Force, bribe, bully, trick... same result," he shrugged in response to her assertion she couldn't be forced into marriage. There were other ways to clear the way for Elias to take the crown, but he decided not two dwell on that. Dealing with the current, certain problems was more pressing.
Lesley watched her patiently, almost expressionlessly, as she worked through her denials and confusion and came to the conclusion that she was helpless. He gave her an uncertain look, unused to dealing with noble ladies, and then decided that he wasn't going to try softening it too much. Either she had at least the seeds of a fighting spirit, and simply wasn't trained, or there was no point trying.
"You are Persephone's heir," he pointed out. "You have the authority. You just haven't been taught to wield it effectively, and you've let yourself be backed into a corner. So..." He considered the situation a moment more, then shrugged. "If you want help..." He was crazy. He actually recognized that he was crazy.
What the hell. Starving to death was boring, and at this point, selling himself back into slavery seemed not terribly interesting either. He'd already done that for over a decade. Try something else.
"It's not unusual for nobles to buy or hire gladiators as bodyguards," he suggested. "If they won't even humor your whims, that will tell you something. If they won't let you leave the property even with a guard, even just to go to the naos, that will tell you something. First find out exactly how much freedom you have when they think you're not challenging them. You can't do anything effectively if you don't use as much space as you can to maneuver."
Was he really going to help a teen girl claim a throne?
Well, maybe.
It really depended on her, didn't it? He wasn't ever going to fight for someone who wasn't going to fight for themselves, let alone for him. And even if she did step up to the line, he wasn't the type to swear undying loyalty to anyone. But - she'd been nice. and that certainly earned her something.
"If you can't get yourself out to the shops, get me a message... your ladies can come buy something for you, I'm sure." He gave her a crooked smile, and the ghost of a wink. "If there's a young noble lady who can't figure out how to get in touch with a handsome fellow without her family being any the wiser I'll eat my tunic."
He should take his leave. The longer he wasn't where anyone expected him to be, the more likely he'd get in trouble, and not the fun kind of trouble.
But seeing how close he could cut it? That part was always fun.
"What my lord Elias has done about the shortages is send more of the guard out to the city to keep the peace," he informed her. "There has been no rationing nor price controls, nor any word that I have heard of opening the royal storehouses or increasing shipments in from the provinces. In truth, there is probably no need for rationing, if it is only imports affected, but... doing something would be more reassuring, I think." Hmm, what else did she need to know. "If he hasn't told you any of this, I doubt he wants you to know." Obvious to him, but she seemed a raw beginner at politics. Lesley wasn't exactly an expert, either, but he had at least watched a fair bit of it. He frowned slightly.
"You're old enough to have been to court for years. Even if you only paid attention to the kinds of politics women do, how did you miss that something was wrong?" Soft brown eyes seemed concerned rather than critical. He didn't know nearly as much about women's politics as he needed to, to help a woman not drown in them, but the more she could tell him the better he could judge the situation.
Despite herself, Emilia chuckled at Lesley's offhanded response to her. The situation was bleak for her, and her friend did have a point. As much as she would protest should her hand be forced in the marriage business, Elias could do any sort of blackmail or threats to get her to agree, and the next thing Emilia would realize was she stood at the Temple of Gods, forever bounded to a man she wasn't even sure she liked at this point. At that thought, her chuckled tapered off to a hollow ending, and her eyes got the same glassy look that was now becoming common on her face, a face that had previously lighted up as easily as a lamp, now filled with despair and helplessness.
His words, a reminder more like, that she was her sister's heir, only served to weigh her down greater, and Emilia already felt as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders at this moment. Yes, she knew she had the authority... but Emilia wasn't certain if she'd like wielding it? Even as a princess, she often asked her servants rather then commanded them, and the idea of 'commanding' a whole kingdom unnerved her.
Lesley's suggestion however, made her eyes widen, and for a second, the brunette princess tossed and turned the idea over in her head. "Would you? Be my bodyguard, that is. Are you not busy in the Dikastrio?" Afterall, Emilia was under the impression that he both helped his mother and worked as a trainer to gladiator's, and the last thing she wanted to be was an imposition. "I've tried asking, and Elias and my aunt has always given me a reason or other to explain why I couldn't go out. To a certain extent, I do believe them.... I think? They have not yet apprehended the ones who stormed the palace, so mayhaps my life is yet in danger?" In her situation, Emilia would believe anyone, and with her messed up thoughts, she found it hard to discern truth from the lies.
The explanations on what happened beyond the palati walls by Lesley was taken by Emilia with rapt attention, for once in her life the young Xanthos took up notice on what was happening with the citizens of her kingdom. She cared of course, but she had always had Persephone or her father to ensure their wellbeing.
Except they were both not here, and who else was supposed to care? She had hoped, believed that Elias cared, but it was becoming increasingly obvious her cousin did not. "Many people don't tell me this." It was general knowledge of course, that Emilia was known to be a fluff-headed young woman in regards to political and strategic ways. But now, Emilia was beginning to wonder if it was time for her to take notice and take some form of charge, if only for now.
Her eyes shuttered, glancing down to the floor in partial shame, partial guilt. "I... I go to court not for the politics. There was never any need for that for me, Lesley. I'm the young princess of Xanthos. I was never the one destined to inherit a throne, or to rule a kingdom." her voice caught, a tremor in her tone before she continued. "I don't think I want to either. I didn't miss the fact that something was wrong.... I just don't know what to do."
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Despite herself, Emilia chuckled at Lesley's offhanded response to her. The situation was bleak for her, and her friend did have a point. As much as she would protest should her hand be forced in the marriage business, Elias could do any sort of blackmail or threats to get her to agree, and the next thing Emilia would realize was she stood at the Temple of Gods, forever bounded to a man she wasn't even sure she liked at this point. At that thought, her chuckled tapered off to a hollow ending, and her eyes got the same glassy look that was now becoming common on her face, a face that had previously lighted up as easily as a lamp, now filled with despair and helplessness.
His words, a reminder more like, that she was her sister's heir, only served to weigh her down greater, and Emilia already felt as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders at this moment. Yes, she knew she had the authority... but Emilia wasn't certain if she'd like wielding it? Even as a princess, she often asked her servants rather then commanded them, and the idea of 'commanding' a whole kingdom unnerved her.
Lesley's suggestion however, made her eyes widen, and for a second, the brunette princess tossed and turned the idea over in her head. "Would you? Be my bodyguard, that is. Are you not busy in the Dikastrio?" Afterall, Emilia was under the impression that he both helped his mother and worked as a trainer to gladiator's, and the last thing she wanted to be was an imposition. "I've tried asking, and Elias and my aunt has always given me a reason or other to explain why I couldn't go out. To a certain extent, I do believe them.... I think? They have not yet apprehended the ones who stormed the palace, so mayhaps my life is yet in danger?" In her situation, Emilia would believe anyone, and with her messed up thoughts, she found it hard to discern truth from the lies.
The explanations on what happened beyond the palati walls by Lesley was taken by Emilia with rapt attention, for once in her life the young Xanthos took up notice on what was happening with the citizens of her kingdom. She cared of course, but she had always had Persephone or her father to ensure their wellbeing.
Except they were both not here, and who else was supposed to care? She had hoped, believed that Elias cared, but it was becoming increasingly obvious her cousin did not. "Many people don't tell me this." It was general knowledge of course, that Emilia was known to be a fluff-headed young woman in regards to political and strategic ways. But now, Emilia was beginning to wonder if it was time for her to take notice and take some form of charge, if only for now.
Her eyes shuttered, glancing down to the floor in partial shame, partial guilt. "I... I go to court not for the politics. There was never any need for that for me, Lesley. I'm the young princess of Xanthos. I was never the one destined to inherit a throne, or to rule a kingdom." her voice caught, a tremor in her tone before she continued. "I don't think I want to either. I didn't miss the fact that something was wrong.... I just don't know what to do."
Despite herself, Emilia chuckled at Lesley's offhanded response to her. The situation was bleak for her, and her friend did have a point. As much as she would protest should her hand be forced in the marriage business, Elias could do any sort of blackmail or threats to get her to agree, and the next thing Emilia would realize was she stood at the Temple of Gods, forever bounded to a man she wasn't even sure she liked at this point. At that thought, her chuckled tapered off to a hollow ending, and her eyes got the same glassy look that was now becoming common on her face, a face that had previously lighted up as easily as a lamp, now filled with despair and helplessness.
His words, a reminder more like, that she was her sister's heir, only served to weigh her down greater, and Emilia already felt as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders at this moment. Yes, she knew she had the authority... but Emilia wasn't certain if she'd like wielding it? Even as a princess, she often asked her servants rather then commanded them, and the idea of 'commanding' a whole kingdom unnerved her.
Lesley's suggestion however, made her eyes widen, and for a second, the brunette princess tossed and turned the idea over in her head. "Would you? Be my bodyguard, that is. Are you not busy in the Dikastrio?" Afterall, Emilia was under the impression that he both helped his mother and worked as a trainer to gladiator's, and the last thing she wanted to be was an imposition. "I've tried asking, and Elias and my aunt has always given me a reason or other to explain why I couldn't go out. To a certain extent, I do believe them.... I think? They have not yet apprehended the ones who stormed the palace, so mayhaps my life is yet in danger?" In her situation, Emilia would believe anyone, and with her messed up thoughts, she found it hard to discern truth from the lies.
The explanations on what happened beyond the palati walls by Lesley was taken by Emilia with rapt attention, for once in her life the young Xanthos took up notice on what was happening with the citizens of her kingdom. She cared of course, but she had always had Persephone or her father to ensure their wellbeing.
Except they were both not here, and who else was supposed to care? She had hoped, believed that Elias cared, but it was becoming increasingly obvious her cousin did not. "Many people don't tell me this." It was general knowledge of course, that Emilia was known to be a fluff-headed young woman in regards to political and strategic ways. But now, Emilia was beginning to wonder if it was time for her to take notice and take some form of charge, if only for now.
Her eyes shuttered, glancing down to the floor in partial shame, partial guilt. "I... I go to court not for the politics. There was never any need for that for me, Lesley. I'm the young princess of Xanthos. I was never the one destined to inherit a throne, or to rule a kingdom." her voice caught, a tremor in her tone before she continued. "I don't think I want to either. I didn't miss the fact that something was wrong.... I just don't know what to do."
"Destiny is rather hard to predict," the gladiator pointed out pragmatically. Then, somewhat more poetically, "What we wish and what the gods wish for us have no bearing on each other, 'tis only ever chance that brings them near enough to bring us joy." He shrugged, looking vaguely uncomfortable, but only for a moment before his thoughts continued on to the next.
"I have to get back before they expect me back on duty, we haven't time to discuss all of this... but yes, I am willing to help. I am honestly only busy because I need to keep myself busy... My mother ran her shop by herself for twelve years, and she would probably smack me if I suggested she was too old to still do so. And so long as I am not losing income, I see no reason someone else can't beat the younger gladiators into shape for a while."
He gave her an intensely serious look. "Your Highness, I am better educated than my station. I know how to speak the way nobles expect - but I am also an honest man, and so I don't. You may have noticed." Another time, the dry comment would have been accompanied by an amused twist of the lips, but not right now. "If you would not think me far too presumptuous, I would like to call you a friend. And that makes me want to be exceedingly honest." At the same time, though, he was willing to be polite to the extent it still allowed him to say what he wanted, and so he chose his words with more care than just look, I like you, but I'm an asshole, so no promises.
"I am a dangerous man, and even more dangerous when I am bored. I will not swear my life to you, or whatever else romantic nonsense some poet would have me do were this an epic. I have no wish to be a slave again, whether anyone calls it such or not - but I will help you find your freedom, too, if the gods allow it, and by the time my willful, contrary, insubordinate, explosively flighty nature gets in the way of my helping you, with any luck you won't actually need my help any more. And if that is acceptable enough - perhaps we can even find you some of that power you've misplaced. That seems an interesting enough challenge." A hint of an amused smile flickered across his face. "If you want it, that is. Your Highness..." Serious again, but this time a hint of uncertainty rather than the same intensity. Then he shrugged. "Frankly, I don't have a lot of friends, and most of them have tried to kill me at some point, so I don't exactly know what I'm doing, here. But I'll do my best."
Then he frowned. "I should go, before anyone notices I'm not where I should be."
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"Destiny is rather hard to predict," the gladiator pointed out pragmatically. Then, somewhat more poetically, "What we wish and what the gods wish for us have no bearing on each other, 'tis only ever chance that brings them near enough to bring us joy." He shrugged, looking vaguely uncomfortable, but only for a moment before his thoughts continued on to the next.
"I have to get back before they expect me back on duty, we haven't time to discuss all of this... but yes, I am willing to help. I am honestly only busy because I need to keep myself busy... My mother ran her shop by herself for twelve years, and she would probably smack me if I suggested she was too old to still do so. And so long as I am not losing income, I see no reason someone else can't beat the younger gladiators into shape for a while."
He gave her an intensely serious look. "Your Highness, I am better educated than my station. I know how to speak the way nobles expect - but I am also an honest man, and so I don't. You may have noticed." Another time, the dry comment would have been accompanied by an amused twist of the lips, but not right now. "If you would not think me far too presumptuous, I would like to call you a friend. And that makes me want to be exceedingly honest." At the same time, though, he was willing to be polite to the extent it still allowed him to say what he wanted, and so he chose his words with more care than just look, I like you, but I'm an asshole, so no promises.
"I am a dangerous man, and even more dangerous when I am bored. I will not swear my life to you, or whatever else romantic nonsense some poet would have me do were this an epic. I have no wish to be a slave again, whether anyone calls it such or not - but I will help you find your freedom, too, if the gods allow it, and by the time my willful, contrary, insubordinate, explosively flighty nature gets in the way of my helping you, with any luck you won't actually need my help any more. And if that is acceptable enough - perhaps we can even find you some of that power you've misplaced. That seems an interesting enough challenge." A hint of an amused smile flickered across his face. "If you want it, that is. Your Highness..." Serious again, but this time a hint of uncertainty rather than the same intensity. Then he shrugged. "Frankly, I don't have a lot of friends, and most of them have tried to kill me at some point, so I don't exactly know what I'm doing, here. But I'll do my best."
Then he frowned. "I should go, before anyone notices I'm not where I should be."
"Destiny is rather hard to predict," the gladiator pointed out pragmatically. Then, somewhat more poetically, "What we wish and what the gods wish for us have no bearing on each other, 'tis only ever chance that brings them near enough to bring us joy." He shrugged, looking vaguely uncomfortable, but only for a moment before his thoughts continued on to the next.
"I have to get back before they expect me back on duty, we haven't time to discuss all of this... but yes, I am willing to help. I am honestly only busy because I need to keep myself busy... My mother ran her shop by herself for twelve years, and she would probably smack me if I suggested she was too old to still do so. And so long as I am not losing income, I see no reason someone else can't beat the younger gladiators into shape for a while."
He gave her an intensely serious look. "Your Highness, I am better educated than my station. I know how to speak the way nobles expect - but I am also an honest man, and so I don't. You may have noticed." Another time, the dry comment would have been accompanied by an amused twist of the lips, but not right now. "If you would not think me far too presumptuous, I would like to call you a friend. And that makes me want to be exceedingly honest." At the same time, though, he was willing to be polite to the extent it still allowed him to say what he wanted, and so he chose his words with more care than just look, I like you, but I'm an asshole, so no promises.
"I am a dangerous man, and even more dangerous when I am bored. I will not swear my life to you, or whatever else romantic nonsense some poet would have me do were this an epic. I have no wish to be a slave again, whether anyone calls it such or not - but I will help you find your freedom, too, if the gods allow it, and by the time my willful, contrary, insubordinate, explosively flighty nature gets in the way of my helping you, with any luck you won't actually need my help any more. And if that is acceptable enough - perhaps we can even find you some of that power you've misplaced. That seems an interesting enough challenge." A hint of an amused smile flickered across his face. "If you want it, that is. Your Highness..." Serious again, but this time a hint of uncertainty rather than the same intensity. Then he shrugged. "Frankly, I don't have a lot of friends, and most of them have tried to kill me at some point, so I don't exactly know what I'm doing, here. But I'll do my best."
Then he frowned. "I should go, before anyone notices I'm not where I should be."
A flicker of dissapointment passed the princess's features when Lesley said he had to go. Outside of the Stravos family and the guards who stoically continue to not say a word to her, he was the only one she had spoken to over the past few weeks, and it felt refreshing to have someone outside the palace walls to exchange words with, however brief. She bit her bottom lip, but she wasn't unreasonable, and nodded to Lesley's words, a watery smile accompanying it. His words were harsh, but in the brief time Emilia has known Lesley, he was a nice man, and has proven himself to be someone she wouldn't mind calling a friend either.
Of course, Emilia's 'friends' tend to also come with a lot of fantasies that Emilia keeps to herself more often then not, but with the current situations, she hasn't found herself falling head over heels as she was wont to do. Instead, she found herself viewing Lesley as perhaps one of the few honest people she could believe in during the current tumultuous period of her life right now.
"I don't have a choice, do I." she murmured softly, averting her gaze briefly. She didn't want power. She didn't know what to do with it! But... what other choice did she have? it was that, or leave it in the hands of Elias and the Stravos's, the ones Emilia was getting increasingly suspicious off as days pass. "I'll speak to my aunt regarding your offer... and if it is successful, someone will come seek you soon in the Arcus. Goodbye Lesley... and thank you."
The last smile Emilia gave him was genuine, perhaps a hint of the smile he had once seen back when she had much lesser problems in her life, and her greatest worry was what color she was to pick for her next dress. Only a glimmer, before she stepped back and allowed him to leave, her hand returning to the top of the head of her whimpering mastiff next to her.
Being alone was an unfamiliar feeling to Emilia, yet as more days pass, it now grew on her.
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A flicker of dissapointment passed the princess's features when Lesley said he had to go. Outside of the Stravos family and the guards who stoically continue to not say a word to her, he was the only one she had spoken to over the past few weeks, and it felt refreshing to have someone outside the palace walls to exchange words with, however brief. She bit her bottom lip, but she wasn't unreasonable, and nodded to Lesley's words, a watery smile accompanying it. His words were harsh, but in the brief time Emilia has known Lesley, he was a nice man, and has proven himself to be someone she wouldn't mind calling a friend either.
Of course, Emilia's 'friends' tend to also come with a lot of fantasies that Emilia keeps to herself more often then not, but with the current situations, she hasn't found herself falling head over heels as she was wont to do. Instead, she found herself viewing Lesley as perhaps one of the few honest people she could believe in during the current tumultuous period of her life right now.
"I don't have a choice, do I." she murmured softly, averting her gaze briefly. She didn't want power. She didn't know what to do with it! But... what other choice did she have? it was that, or leave it in the hands of Elias and the Stravos's, the ones Emilia was getting increasingly suspicious off as days pass. "I'll speak to my aunt regarding your offer... and if it is successful, someone will come seek you soon in the Arcus. Goodbye Lesley... and thank you."
The last smile Emilia gave him was genuine, perhaps a hint of the smile he had once seen back when she had much lesser problems in her life, and her greatest worry was what color she was to pick for her next dress. Only a glimmer, before she stepped back and allowed him to leave, her hand returning to the top of the head of her whimpering mastiff next to her.
Being alone was an unfamiliar feeling to Emilia, yet as more days pass, it now grew on her.
A flicker of dissapointment passed the princess's features when Lesley said he had to go. Outside of the Stravos family and the guards who stoically continue to not say a word to her, he was the only one she had spoken to over the past few weeks, and it felt refreshing to have someone outside the palace walls to exchange words with, however brief. She bit her bottom lip, but she wasn't unreasonable, and nodded to Lesley's words, a watery smile accompanying it. His words were harsh, but in the brief time Emilia has known Lesley, he was a nice man, and has proven himself to be someone she wouldn't mind calling a friend either.
Of course, Emilia's 'friends' tend to also come with a lot of fantasies that Emilia keeps to herself more often then not, but with the current situations, she hasn't found herself falling head over heels as she was wont to do. Instead, she found herself viewing Lesley as perhaps one of the few honest people she could believe in during the current tumultuous period of her life right now.
"I don't have a choice, do I." she murmured softly, averting her gaze briefly. She didn't want power. She didn't know what to do with it! But... what other choice did she have? it was that, or leave it in the hands of Elias and the Stravos's, the ones Emilia was getting increasingly suspicious off as days pass. "I'll speak to my aunt regarding your offer... and if it is successful, someone will come seek you soon in the Arcus. Goodbye Lesley... and thank you."
The last smile Emilia gave him was genuine, perhaps a hint of the smile he had once seen back when she had much lesser problems in her life, and her greatest worry was what color she was to pick for her next dress. Only a glimmer, before she stepped back and allowed him to leave, her hand returning to the top of the head of her whimpering mastiff next to her.
Being alone was an unfamiliar feeling to Emilia, yet as more days pass, it now grew on her.
Lelsey nodded as he took a half step back physically, and a bigger one emotionally. His face was blank as he bowed, shallow and obviously still alert, but exactly right for a guard on duty acknowledging an order from the family he served rather than from a military commander.
"Of course, Your Highness. Thank you for your time, and I apologize again for the interruption." Polite, formal. He did indeed know how to behave himself.
With that, he stepped back out and headed back to where he was supposed to be, as careful not to rush as he had been not to seem uncertain of where he was going on the way in.
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Lelsey nodded as he took a half step back physically, and a bigger one emotionally. His face was blank as he bowed, shallow and obviously still alert, but exactly right for a guard on duty acknowledging an order from the family he served rather than from a military commander.
"Of course, Your Highness. Thank you for your time, and I apologize again for the interruption." Polite, formal. He did indeed know how to behave himself.
With that, he stepped back out and headed back to where he was supposed to be, as careful not to rush as he had been not to seem uncertain of where he was going on the way in.
Lelsey nodded as he took a half step back physically, and a bigger one emotionally. His face was blank as he bowed, shallow and obviously still alert, but exactly right for a guard on duty acknowledging an order from the family he served rather than from a military commander.
"Of course, Your Highness. Thank you for your time, and I apologize again for the interruption." Polite, formal. He did indeed know how to behave himself.
With that, he stepped back out and headed back to where he was supposed to be, as careful not to rush as he had been not to seem uncertain of where he was going on the way in.