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The new King of Colchis - Vangelis of Kotas - has arranged a feast in which the nobility of the kingdom can join together and not only welcome more newcomers from the land of Taengea - the Lady Evelli and Lady Nana of Leventi - but also to come together and form a sense of unity in the wake of the lost king. It is now a six days since the Colchian party landed in Colchis and were made aware of the passing of the last King, three days since Vangelis summoned his militia and informed them that war with Egypt was likely to be a foregone conclusion. Only a single day since the Lady Evelli and Lady Nana arrived, following their relatives across the sea as soon as the Lady Theodora was successfully married. Now, nobles from all over Colchis walk, talk and eat together, in the hopes of sharing news, hopes and ambitions...
JD
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JD
Staff Team
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The new King of Colchis - Vangelis of Kotas - has arranged a feast in which the nobility of the kingdom can join together and not only welcome more newcomers from the land of Taengea - the Lady Evelli and Lady Nana of Leventi - but also to come together and form a sense of unity in the wake of the lost king. It is now a six days since the Colchian party landed in Colchis and were made aware of the passing of the last King, three days since Vangelis summoned his militia and informed them that war with Egypt was likely to be a foregone conclusion. Only a single day since the Lady Evelli and Lady Nana arrived, following their relatives across the sea as soon as the Lady Theodora was successfully married. Now, nobles from all over Colchis walk, talk and eat together, in the hopes of sharing news, hopes and ambitions...
Like Father, Like Son Event - Colchis
The new King of Colchis - Vangelis of Kotas - has arranged a feast in which the nobility of the kingdom can join together and not only welcome more newcomers from the land of Taengea - the Lady Evelli and Lady Nana of Leventi - but also to come together and form a sense of unity in the wake of the lost king. It is now a six days since the Colchian party landed in Colchis and were made aware of the passing of the last King, three days since Vangelis summoned his militia and informed them that war with Egypt was likely to be a foregone conclusion. Only a single day since the Lady Evelli and Lady Nana arrived, following their relatives across the sea as soon as the Lady Theodora was successfully married. Now, nobles from all over Colchis walk, talk and eat together, in the hopes of sharing news, hopes and ambitions...
When news reached the Valaoritis household that there was to be a feast to celebrate the few good fortunes that the kingdom had had in recent days, Timaeus should have been utterly relieved. For once, the summons he had received from the Kotas family hadn’t been brought to him within an air of tragedy -- whether it be the loss of a king, the premonitions of war, or questions of loyalty. The promise of revelry and good food was desperately needed in these trying times. The courts needed a reminder that even though Colchis had been shrouded in darkness as of late, there was still life within these rocky outcrops. That regardless of what came; the spirit of death or the Egyptians (though half of Colchis would have sworn that there was no difference between the two) they were still here and they would still be here. They had life yet to live.
However, Timaeus didn’t treat the news as warmly as the other families may have done. Such invitations still carried a sense of danger for the Valaoritis family as their debts to the Kotas family had yet to be repaid and now all of them were to be in close quarters with the royal household. In Tim’s ever worrying mind, this certainly seemed like a recipe for disaster as one drunken slip from either Timaeus, Silanos or Evras would doom the brothers. One for stealing what was not theirs, the other for lying to a prince. It didn’t matter that Evras had forgiven them and Zanon was unaware of the deceit. The carefully crafted castle of cards they had built could come crashing down around them in an instant. Especially as there was nothing that Tim could do to prevent Sil from drinking at this event without causing a scene. All he could was pray, but he doubted that even the gods could save him from the wrath of Vangelis and Zanon if they learned what the brothers had done.
Little did he know that he was right; not even the gods could spare them. Not when King Vangelis already knew of Sil’s crimes; all of his crimes.
Even the ones that Timaeus himself did not know yet.
The pit of dread in his stomach only grew when the night of the feast and Timaeus found himself entering the Dikastirio chamber with his brother by his side. All of his senses screamed at him that this was a lion’s den that he had wandered into, but he still managed to present a light smile as he caught the eyes of other courtiers who were milling about. They had to present a facade and luckily Tim had nearly eight years worth of court experience to draw upon when it came to being able to pretend that everything was fine and he was nothing short of delighted to be there. Silanos was more than aware of this, of course, Tim had told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to behave at this event and what the consequences might be if he didn’t. Though, that depended on how good of an actor Silanos was.
Timaeus would just have to trust that Sil could handle himself though, as almost as soon as the young men were in the thick of the forming crowd, the younger brother disappeared from Tim’s side. A new flash of panic rose in Tim’s chest as he glanced around worriedly, but the boy was not in sight and the Baron was not about to cause a scene over it. For all he knew, Sil was off to sulk in a corner for the evening, hiding out of the Kotas family’s sight. That would be the safest thing the younger brother could do and even though he didn’t have the highest hopes that this would be the case, he had to trust that this what his brother had done. If not… well, Sil knew how powerless Tim was here to save him.
So, Tim had little choice, but to mingle with the other courtiers as they all waited for the feast to begin. The conversations were a bit of a mindless blur for the young Baron; talks with older men about politics and flirtatious greetings with some of the younger noblewoman. Timaeus just couldn’t focus on any of it as he kept scanning the crowd for any sign of a Kotas or Valaoritis -- as his cousin was also meant to be there in addition to the boys as she was now a handmaid to the Princess Evras. For a painfully long time, he had no such luck until suddenly from across the room; Tim spied the youngest Kotas Prince, Silas.
Although the men were not the closest, Timaeus didn’t think twice about crossing the room to greet the royal. To him, this man who looked eerily similar to the Baron (a trait that was shared between the Valaoritis and Kotas families for some unknown reason) was the safest out of all the royal family members that he could approach at this event. After all, as far as Tim knew, Silas was completely unaware of the tensions between the families and the men were friendly enough with each other, being close in age and military rank. It would be easy enough to have a conversation with him beyond the standard greetings at least.
“ Your highness,” Timaeus said in a formal greeting as he approached the youngest prince, “ It’s a pleasure to see you outside the barracks.” It was no secret that Silas enjoyed his time working with the men of his unit and he was glad to see the prince crack a smile at the never-ending joke that the next time Silas visited them, he wouldn’t come back. Before Tim knew it, the prince was also tossing quite a few quips of his own at the Eubocris Baron and he felt the worry lift from his shoulders somewhat as the two of them began to chat passionately about the trials of tribulations of being captains in the military while balancing noble duties the two of them bore. However, even as the two of them joked, Timaeus couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting towards the door for some reason he didn’t understand. Every time someone walked through the large doors, his eyes gravitated towards them, taking notes of who he knew and quickly forgetting those that he didn’t, never failing to refocus on the prince beside him.
Little did he know, but soon he wouldn’t forget about one the courtiers who had just entered. A lively, blonde girl trailing after an older woman with darker hair, clearly her mother. Timaeus didn’t recognize them and hardly anyone else in the room would have as well unless they frequented the same courts as the pair. There was no denying that she was beautiful, possibly as gorgeous as Aphrodite herself and Tim found it difficult to tear his gaze away. The conversation lost on him as his eyes kept drifting to this stranger, his mind caught in the hypnotizing allure of her beauty as well as the odd nagging feeling in his mind that she had seen her before… or someone who looked like her at least. Every time he managed to look away from her, his eyes would drift back, eagerly drinking in the distant visage of the Taengean noble.
He didn’t know it yet, but this girl was Nana of Leventi and she was about to take Timaeus’s world and turn it completely on its head in the span of a few hours; reigniting feelings and dreams he had not experienced in a long time.
But that would require them speaking and neither of them seems to be keen on making the first move towards each other… not quite yet at least.
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When news reached the Valaoritis household that there was to be a feast to celebrate the few good fortunes that the kingdom had had in recent days, Timaeus should have been utterly relieved. For once, the summons he had received from the Kotas family hadn’t been brought to him within an air of tragedy -- whether it be the loss of a king, the premonitions of war, or questions of loyalty. The promise of revelry and good food was desperately needed in these trying times. The courts needed a reminder that even though Colchis had been shrouded in darkness as of late, there was still life within these rocky outcrops. That regardless of what came; the spirit of death or the Egyptians (though half of Colchis would have sworn that there was no difference between the two) they were still here and they would still be here. They had life yet to live.
However, Timaeus didn’t treat the news as warmly as the other families may have done. Such invitations still carried a sense of danger for the Valaoritis family as their debts to the Kotas family had yet to be repaid and now all of them were to be in close quarters with the royal household. In Tim’s ever worrying mind, this certainly seemed like a recipe for disaster as one drunken slip from either Timaeus, Silanos or Evras would doom the brothers. One for stealing what was not theirs, the other for lying to a prince. It didn’t matter that Evras had forgiven them and Zanon was unaware of the deceit. The carefully crafted castle of cards they had built could come crashing down around them in an instant. Especially as there was nothing that Tim could do to prevent Sil from drinking at this event without causing a scene. All he could was pray, but he doubted that even the gods could save him from the wrath of Vangelis and Zanon if they learned what the brothers had done.
Little did he know that he was right; not even the gods could spare them. Not when King Vangelis already knew of Sil’s crimes; all of his crimes.
Even the ones that Timaeus himself did not know yet.
The pit of dread in his stomach only grew when the night of the feast and Timaeus found himself entering the Dikastirio chamber with his brother by his side. All of his senses screamed at him that this was a lion’s den that he had wandered into, but he still managed to present a light smile as he caught the eyes of other courtiers who were milling about. They had to present a facade and luckily Tim had nearly eight years worth of court experience to draw upon when it came to being able to pretend that everything was fine and he was nothing short of delighted to be there. Silanos was more than aware of this, of course, Tim had told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to behave at this event and what the consequences might be if he didn’t. Though, that depended on how good of an actor Silanos was.
Timaeus would just have to trust that Sil could handle himself though, as almost as soon as the young men were in the thick of the forming crowd, the younger brother disappeared from Tim’s side. A new flash of panic rose in Tim’s chest as he glanced around worriedly, but the boy was not in sight and the Baron was not about to cause a scene over it. For all he knew, Sil was off to sulk in a corner for the evening, hiding out of the Kotas family’s sight. That would be the safest thing the younger brother could do and even though he didn’t have the highest hopes that this would be the case, he had to trust that this what his brother had done. If not… well, Sil knew how powerless Tim was here to save him.
So, Tim had little choice, but to mingle with the other courtiers as they all waited for the feast to begin. The conversations were a bit of a mindless blur for the young Baron; talks with older men about politics and flirtatious greetings with some of the younger noblewoman. Timaeus just couldn’t focus on any of it as he kept scanning the crowd for any sign of a Kotas or Valaoritis -- as his cousin was also meant to be there in addition to the boys as she was now a handmaid to the Princess Evras. For a painfully long time, he had no such luck until suddenly from across the room; Tim spied the youngest Kotas Prince, Silas.
Although the men were not the closest, Timaeus didn’t think twice about crossing the room to greet the royal. To him, this man who looked eerily similar to the Baron (a trait that was shared between the Valaoritis and Kotas families for some unknown reason) was the safest out of all the royal family members that he could approach at this event. After all, as far as Tim knew, Silas was completely unaware of the tensions between the families and the men were friendly enough with each other, being close in age and military rank. It would be easy enough to have a conversation with him beyond the standard greetings at least.
“ Your highness,” Timaeus said in a formal greeting as he approached the youngest prince, “ It’s a pleasure to see you outside the barracks.” It was no secret that Silas enjoyed his time working with the men of his unit and he was glad to see the prince crack a smile at the never-ending joke that the next time Silas visited them, he wouldn’t come back. Before Tim knew it, the prince was also tossing quite a few quips of his own at the Eubocris Baron and he felt the worry lift from his shoulders somewhat as the two of them began to chat passionately about the trials of tribulations of being captains in the military while balancing noble duties the two of them bore. However, even as the two of them joked, Timaeus couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting towards the door for some reason he didn’t understand. Every time someone walked through the large doors, his eyes gravitated towards them, taking notes of who he knew and quickly forgetting those that he didn’t, never failing to refocus on the prince beside him.
Little did he know, but soon he wouldn’t forget about one the courtiers who had just entered. A lively, blonde girl trailing after an older woman with darker hair, clearly her mother. Timaeus didn’t recognize them and hardly anyone else in the room would have as well unless they frequented the same courts as the pair. There was no denying that she was beautiful, possibly as gorgeous as Aphrodite herself and Tim found it difficult to tear his gaze away. The conversation lost on him as his eyes kept drifting to this stranger, his mind caught in the hypnotizing allure of her beauty as well as the odd nagging feeling in his mind that she had seen her before… or someone who looked like her at least. Every time he managed to look away from her, his eyes would drift back, eagerly drinking in the distant visage of the Taengean noble.
He didn’t know it yet, but this girl was Nana of Leventi and she was about to take Timaeus’s world and turn it completely on its head in the span of a few hours; reigniting feelings and dreams he had not experienced in a long time.
But that would require them speaking and neither of them seems to be keen on making the first move towards each other… not quite yet at least.
When news reached the Valaoritis household that there was to be a feast to celebrate the few good fortunes that the kingdom had had in recent days, Timaeus should have been utterly relieved. For once, the summons he had received from the Kotas family hadn’t been brought to him within an air of tragedy -- whether it be the loss of a king, the premonitions of war, or questions of loyalty. The promise of revelry and good food was desperately needed in these trying times. The courts needed a reminder that even though Colchis had been shrouded in darkness as of late, there was still life within these rocky outcrops. That regardless of what came; the spirit of death or the Egyptians (though half of Colchis would have sworn that there was no difference between the two) they were still here and they would still be here. They had life yet to live.
However, Timaeus didn’t treat the news as warmly as the other families may have done. Such invitations still carried a sense of danger for the Valaoritis family as their debts to the Kotas family had yet to be repaid and now all of them were to be in close quarters with the royal household. In Tim’s ever worrying mind, this certainly seemed like a recipe for disaster as one drunken slip from either Timaeus, Silanos or Evras would doom the brothers. One for stealing what was not theirs, the other for lying to a prince. It didn’t matter that Evras had forgiven them and Zanon was unaware of the deceit. The carefully crafted castle of cards they had built could come crashing down around them in an instant. Especially as there was nothing that Tim could do to prevent Sil from drinking at this event without causing a scene. All he could was pray, but he doubted that even the gods could save him from the wrath of Vangelis and Zanon if they learned what the brothers had done.
Little did he know that he was right; not even the gods could spare them. Not when King Vangelis already knew of Sil’s crimes; all of his crimes.
Even the ones that Timaeus himself did not know yet.
The pit of dread in his stomach only grew when the night of the feast and Timaeus found himself entering the Dikastirio chamber with his brother by his side. All of his senses screamed at him that this was a lion’s den that he had wandered into, but he still managed to present a light smile as he caught the eyes of other courtiers who were milling about. They had to present a facade and luckily Tim had nearly eight years worth of court experience to draw upon when it came to being able to pretend that everything was fine and he was nothing short of delighted to be there. Silanos was more than aware of this, of course, Tim had told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to behave at this event and what the consequences might be if he didn’t. Though, that depended on how good of an actor Silanos was.
Timaeus would just have to trust that Sil could handle himself though, as almost as soon as the young men were in the thick of the forming crowd, the younger brother disappeared from Tim’s side. A new flash of panic rose in Tim’s chest as he glanced around worriedly, but the boy was not in sight and the Baron was not about to cause a scene over it. For all he knew, Sil was off to sulk in a corner for the evening, hiding out of the Kotas family’s sight. That would be the safest thing the younger brother could do and even though he didn’t have the highest hopes that this would be the case, he had to trust that this what his brother had done. If not… well, Sil knew how powerless Tim was here to save him.
So, Tim had little choice, but to mingle with the other courtiers as they all waited for the feast to begin. The conversations were a bit of a mindless blur for the young Baron; talks with older men about politics and flirtatious greetings with some of the younger noblewoman. Timaeus just couldn’t focus on any of it as he kept scanning the crowd for any sign of a Kotas or Valaoritis -- as his cousin was also meant to be there in addition to the boys as she was now a handmaid to the Princess Evras. For a painfully long time, he had no such luck until suddenly from across the room; Tim spied the youngest Kotas Prince, Silas.
Although the men were not the closest, Timaeus didn’t think twice about crossing the room to greet the royal. To him, this man who looked eerily similar to the Baron (a trait that was shared between the Valaoritis and Kotas families for some unknown reason) was the safest out of all the royal family members that he could approach at this event. After all, as far as Tim knew, Silas was completely unaware of the tensions between the families and the men were friendly enough with each other, being close in age and military rank. It would be easy enough to have a conversation with him beyond the standard greetings at least.
“ Your highness,” Timaeus said in a formal greeting as he approached the youngest prince, “ It’s a pleasure to see you outside the barracks.” It was no secret that Silas enjoyed his time working with the men of his unit and he was glad to see the prince crack a smile at the never-ending joke that the next time Silas visited them, he wouldn’t come back. Before Tim knew it, the prince was also tossing quite a few quips of his own at the Eubocris Baron and he felt the worry lift from his shoulders somewhat as the two of them began to chat passionately about the trials of tribulations of being captains in the military while balancing noble duties the two of them bore. However, even as the two of them joked, Timaeus couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting towards the door for some reason he didn’t understand. Every time someone walked through the large doors, his eyes gravitated towards them, taking notes of who he knew and quickly forgetting those that he didn’t, never failing to refocus on the prince beside him.
Little did he know, but soon he wouldn’t forget about one the courtiers who had just entered. A lively, blonde girl trailing after an older woman with darker hair, clearly her mother. Timaeus didn’t recognize them and hardly anyone else in the room would have as well unless they frequented the same courts as the pair. There was no denying that she was beautiful, possibly as gorgeous as Aphrodite herself and Tim found it difficult to tear his gaze away. The conversation lost on him as his eyes kept drifting to this stranger, his mind caught in the hypnotizing allure of her beauty as well as the odd nagging feeling in his mind that she had seen her before… or someone who looked like her at least. Every time he managed to look away from her, his eyes would drift back, eagerly drinking in the distant visage of the Taengean noble.
He didn’t know it yet, but this girl was Nana of Leventi and she was about to take Timaeus’s world and turn it completely on its head in the span of a few hours; reigniting feelings and dreams he had not experienced in a long time.
But that would require them speaking and neither of them seems to be keen on making the first move towards each other… not quite yet at least.
Their arrival had been silent, for Evelli had merely decided on a whim to take a boat to Colchis.How could she not? Her first grandchild had just been born, and Evelli hadn't even been able to attend the birth. She could not simply sit around in Taengea languishing while wondering on the status of her grandchild and two of her daughters. Georgios had not been amenable to the idea at first, but Evelli had been stubborn enough that eventually her husband had given in. The woman had intended to bring both daughters with her, but with the messy situation currently in Taengea, Georgios eventually decided for Nana to come with her, whilst Imma remained at home with her father. At least one of their daughters would get more exposure to better marriage prospects in Colchis at least.
The voyage had been uneventful, even if it felt a little bit like the trip would never end sometimes. Most of it, Evelli had spent on the deck glancing in the direction they sailed at, but the woman also made sure to spend time with Nana. With five daughters and court sessions to handle, Evelli has had precious little time to spend with each daughter, and the time she had with Nana on board would be a rare chance... but her seasickness had gotten the better of her.
She sailed to Serenn quite often, and had never had bad bouts of nausea. Yet this time round, perhaps it was a rough sea, and perhaps it was her anxiety at meeting Olympia and her new grandchild once she got to Colchian shores, but whatever it was, half the time found Evelli heaving the contens of her stomach over the prow, and conversations with Nana were occasionally interjected with a heaving Evelli.
All in all, she had been glad to make it land, and gladder still to meet Selene on the shores. Her eldest had guided her for the rest of the day, but Evelli had collapsed upon nightfall, and had no chance at all to meet Olympia before the annoucement of a feast had been sprung on her - something she didn't fancy. She had not come here to be celebrated, but Nana would not complain, Evelli assumed.
So as much as the woman would rather visit with the daughter who had just given birth, she had reluctantly put on the plum chiton she had brought along with her, trimmed with pearls and diamonds that stated her status as a Leventi lady. Her curly brunette locks were piled high upon her head and held in place with pins and a unicorn shaped brooch, the rest of her arms bare to the touch. Wary and informed of the passing of the former Colchian monarch, Evelli had chosen a dark shade of plum that could almost be black if one glanced too quickly, and had arrived at the feast with Nana on her trail, greeting the few lords she knew and ensuring to keep an eye out for Selene. Evelli did not visit Colchis often, and to be with new faces she did not know in court unnerved her a little.
Besides, she merely wanted to see her daughter.
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Check out their information page here.
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Their arrival had been silent, for Evelli had merely decided on a whim to take a boat to Colchis.How could she not? Her first grandchild had just been born, and Evelli hadn't even been able to attend the birth. She could not simply sit around in Taengea languishing while wondering on the status of her grandchild and two of her daughters. Georgios had not been amenable to the idea at first, but Evelli had been stubborn enough that eventually her husband had given in. The woman had intended to bring both daughters with her, but with the messy situation currently in Taengea, Georgios eventually decided for Nana to come with her, whilst Imma remained at home with her father. At least one of their daughters would get more exposure to better marriage prospects in Colchis at least.
The voyage had been uneventful, even if it felt a little bit like the trip would never end sometimes. Most of it, Evelli had spent on the deck glancing in the direction they sailed at, but the woman also made sure to spend time with Nana. With five daughters and court sessions to handle, Evelli has had precious little time to spend with each daughter, and the time she had with Nana on board would be a rare chance... but her seasickness had gotten the better of her.
She sailed to Serenn quite often, and had never had bad bouts of nausea. Yet this time round, perhaps it was a rough sea, and perhaps it was her anxiety at meeting Olympia and her new grandchild once she got to Colchian shores, but whatever it was, half the time found Evelli heaving the contens of her stomach over the prow, and conversations with Nana were occasionally interjected with a heaving Evelli.
All in all, she had been glad to make it land, and gladder still to meet Selene on the shores. Her eldest had guided her for the rest of the day, but Evelli had collapsed upon nightfall, and had no chance at all to meet Olympia before the annoucement of a feast had been sprung on her - something she didn't fancy. She had not come here to be celebrated, but Nana would not complain, Evelli assumed.
So as much as the woman would rather visit with the daughter who had just given birth, she had reluctantly put on the plum chiton she had brought along with her, trimmed with pearls and diamonds that stated her status as a Leventi lady. Her curly brunette locks were piled high upon her head and held in place with pins and a unicorn shaped brooch, the rest of her arms bare to the touch. Wary and informed of the passing of the former Colchian monarch, Evelli had chosen a dark shade of plum that could almost be black if one glanced too quickly, and had arrived at the feast with Nana on her trail, greeting the few lords she knew and ensuring to keep an eye out for Selene. Evelli did not visit Colchis often, and to be with new faces she did not know in court unnerved her a little.
Besides, she merely wanted to see her daughter.
Their arrival had been silent, for Evelli had merely decided on a whim to take a boat to Colchis.How could she not? Her first grandchild had just been born, and Evelli hadn't even been able to attend the birth. She could not simply sit around in Taengea languishing while wondering on the status of her grandchild and two of her daughters. Georgios had not been amenable to the idea at first, but Evelli had been stubborn enough that eventually her husband had given in. The woman had intended to bring both daughters with her, but with the messy situation currently in Taengea, Georgios eventually decided for Nana to come with her, whilst Imma remained at home with her father. At least one of their daughters would get more exposure to better marriage prospects in Colchis at least.
The voyage had been uneventful, even if it felt a little bit like the trip would never end sometimes. Most of it, Evelli had spent on the deck glancing in the direction they sailed at, but the woman also made sure to spend time with Nana. With five daughters and court sessions to handle, Evelli has had precious little time to spend with each daughter, and the time she had with Nana on board would be a rare chance... but her seasickness had gotten the better of her.
She sailed to Serenn quite often, and had never had bad bouts of nausea. Yet this time round, perhaps it was a rough sea, and perhaps it was her anxiety at meeting Olympia and her new grandchild once she got to Colchian shores, but whatever it was, half the time found Evelli heaving the contens of her stomach over the prow, and conversations with Nana were occasionally interjected with a heaving Evelli.
All in all, she had been glad to make it land, and gladder still to meet Selene on the shores. Her eldest had guided her for the rest of the day, but Evelli had collapsed upon nightfall, and had no chance at all to meet Olympia before the annoucement of a feast had been sprung on her - something she didn't fancy. She had not come here to be celebrated, but Nana would not complain, Evelli assumed.
So as much as the woman would rather visit with the daughter who had just given birth, she had reluctantly put on the plum chiton she had brought along with her, trimmed with pearls and diamonds that stated her status as a Leventi lady. Her curly brunette locks were piled high upon her head and held in place with pins and a unicorn shaped brooch, the rest of her arms bare to the touch. Wary and informed of the passing of the former Colchian monarch, Evelli had chosen a dark shade of plum that could almost be black if one glanced too quickly, and had arrived at the feast with Nana on her trail, greeting the few lords she knew and ensuring to keep an eye out for Selene. Evelli did not visit Colchis often, and to be with new faces she did not know in court unnerved her a little.
Besides, she merely wanted to see her daughter.
She felt uneasy, and she didn’t know exactly why.
The appearance of her mother should have put her mind at ease, for she was no longer alone with the care of Pia and the baby. She could relax and shoulder the weight, because her mother would want to see her focus on Vangelis.
The new King.
But perhaps that was the very reason her heart was so heavy. Vangelis has abdicated the throne at the same time his family mostly likely knew of their father’s death. He was King without knowing he was, and if they had stayed in Taengea, perhaps he would have been more prepared for the news. He would have been able to process it and be ready for it. It wouldn’t have overwhelmed him and caught him off guard as it had. Her heart was so heavy for him, for his family.
But they were Kotas. And strength was in their blood.
She was staying separate from her family, happy that she had been placed in the same rooms as before. And her mother had the foresight to bring Jo with her, meaning that not only was she familiar with the manor, her slave was too. And it was nice to be able to have that confidant again. Jo knew Selene, knew what she liked and what made her tick. In the past few months, they had grown close and Selene appreciated someone who would always have her desires at heart.
It put her a bit more at ease.
No black had been packed for her, and there hadn’t been enough time to try and find one that was appropriate enough for this gathering. Besides, it wouldn’t have been proper for her to don the color. It wasn’t her kingdom, and it wasn’t her king. But the deep navy blue of the chiton that Jo had laid out for her was perfect. More demure than anything he would have seen her in prior, Selene was confident the King would find it respectful and tasteful. And that was all she wanted to do.
With a high neckline, the dress’s boatneck top highlighted the curve of her collarbones. Clasped by gold and pearls on her shoulders, the sleeves hung down to her finger tips. While the front was modest, the back dipped low, material resting on the curves of her hips. No slits in her full skirts, the Leventi was happy with her look. Jo had taken much time with the intricate braid that ended over her shoulder, the tail think and curled over her left shoulder. Athought her cuff may not have matched the attire, it was the only sign of her station and name. She would wear it with pride.
She quietly entered the room from the back, desiring to draw as little attention to herself as possible. The room was quickly filling with nobles, though no sign of the royal family yet. Her eyes caught the family sway of her mother, the deep plum of her dress beautiful on her petite frame. Selene was dutifully at her side within minutes. “Mama.” She said softly, her hand slipping into that of her mother’s in greeting. “You look stunning.”
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She felt uneasy, and she didn’t know exactly why.
The appearance of her mother should have put her mind at ease, for she was no longer alone with the care of Pia and the baby. She could relax and shoulder the weight, because her mother would want to see her focus on Vangelis.
The new King.
But perhaps that was the very reason her heart was so heavy. Vangelis has abdicated the throne at the same time his family mostly likely knew of their father’s death. He was King without knowing he was, and if they had stayed in Taengea, perhaps he would have been more prepared for the news. He would have been able to process it and be ready for it. It wouldn’t have overwhelmed him and caught him off guard as it had. Her heart was so heavy for him, for his family.
But they were Kotas. And strength was in their blood.
She was staying separate from her family, happy that she had been placed in the same rooms as before. And her mother had the foresight to bring Jo with her, meaning that not only was she familiar with the manor, her slave was too. And it was nice to be able to have that confidant again. Jo knew Selene, knew what she liked and what made her tick. In the past few months, they had grown close and Selene appreciated someone who would always have her desires at heart.
It put her a bit more at ease.
No black had been packed for her, and there hadn’t been enough time to try and find one that was appropriate enough for this gathering. Besides, it wouldn’t have been proper for her to don the color. It wasn’t her kingdom, and it wasn’t her king. But the deep navy blue of the chiton that Jo had laid out for her was perfect. More demure than anything he would have seen her in prior, Selene was confident the King would find it respectful and tasteful. And that was all she wanted to do.
With a high neckline, the dress’s boatneck top highlighted the curve of her collarbones. Clasped by gold and pearls on her shoulders, the sleeves hung down to her finger tips. While the front was modest, the back dipped low, material resting on the curves of her hips. No slits in her full skirts, the Leventi was happy with her look. Jo had taken much time with the intricate braid that ended over her shoulder, the tail think and curled over her left shoulder. Athought her cuff may not have matched the attire, it was the only sign of her station and name. She would wear it with pride.
She quietly entered the room from the back, desiring to draw as little attention to herself as possible. The room was quickly filling with nobles, though no sign of the royal family yet. Her eyes caught the family sway of her mother, the deep plum of her dress beautiful on her petite frame. Selene was dutifully at her side within minutes. “Mama.” She said softly, her hand slipping into that of her mother’s in greeting. “You look stunning.”
She felt uneasy, and she didn’t know exactly why.
The appearance of her mother should have put her mind at ease, for she was no longer alone with the care of Pia and the baby. She could relax and shoulder the weight, because her mother would want to see her focus on Vangelis.
The new King.
But perhaps that was the very reason her heart was so heavy. Vangelis has abdicated the throne at the same time his family mostly likely knew of their father’s death. He was King without knowing he was, and if they had stayed in Taengea, perhaps he would have been more prepared for the news. He would have been able to process it and be ready for it. It wouldn’t have overwhelmed him and caught him off guard as it had. Her heart was so heavy for him, for his family.
But they were Kotas. And strength was in their blood.
She was staying separate from her family, happy that she had been placed in the same rooms as before. And her mother had the foresight to bring Jo with her, meaning that not only was she familiar with the manor, her slave was too. And it was nice to be able to have that confidant again. Jo knew Selene, knew what she liked and what made her tick. In the past few months, they had grown close and Selene appreciated someone who would always have her desires at heart.
It put her a bit more at ease.
No black had been packed for her, and there hadn’t been enough time to try and find one that was appropriate enough for this gathering. Besides, it wouldn’t have been proper for her to don the color. It wasn’t her kingdom, and it wasn’t her king. But the deep navy blue of the chiton that Jo had laid out for her was perfect. More demure than anything he would have seen her in prior, Selene was confident the King would find it respectful and tasteful. And that was all she wanted to do.
With a high neckline, the dress’s boatneck top highlighted the curve of her collarbones. Clasped by gold and pearls on her shoulders, the sleeves hung down to her finger tips. While the front was modest, the back dipped low, material resting on the curves of her hips. No slits in her full skirts, the Leventi was happy with her look. Jo had taken much time with the intricate braid that ended over her shoulder, the tail think and curled over her left shoulder. Athought her cuff may not have matched the attire, it was the only sign of her station and name. She would wear it with pride.
She quietly entered the room from the back, desiring to draw as little attention to herself as possible. The room was quickly filling with nobles, though no sign of the royal family yet. Her eyes caught the family sway of her mother, the deep plum of her dress beautiful on her petite frame. Selene was dutifully at her side within minutes. “Mama.” She said softly, her hand slipping into that of her mother’s in greeting. “You look stunning.”
Maleos was typically not one to attend anything to do with the upper classes of society but given the recent events he felt it would be inappropriate for him to at least not be seen there. At the very least he could be there if Timaeus needed an escape or just a friend to help him avoid awkward conversations with people he did not care to speak with. Being that this event was an important one, and very many important people would be there, he even cleaned himself up, seeing to it that he had a bath before shaving. He left some facial hair, preferring not to be fully clean shaven, and he pulled his hair back and tied it neatly out of the way. Dressed in clean, new clothing, it would be easy to mistake him for someone who belonged at the event. He hated having to dress this way, preferring comfort over the way he looks, but it would not be appropriate to dress as he normally did.
He made his way from his barracks to the Dikastirio chamber. As he entered, his blue-green eyes searched for familiar faces, ones that he could bury himself in conversation with in order to avoid as many unwanted conversations with people he did not like or know as he could. He spotted Tim, but the man was engrossed in a conversation with another already, and he did not want to interrupt or insert himself in a conversation that he might not be welcome in.
Instead he looked around more, finally spotting someone he recognized, an old friend of his fathers, or rather a friendly customer of his fathers, in his childhood he had always stopped by and brought the children some sort of small present, usually some sort of carved trinket. He would spend awhile speaking with his father before taking his leave. Maleos was never sure his exact position within the upper levels of Colchis, but clearly it was important enough to land him an invite to the event.
He approached and greeted him, and he was recognized immediately. The two men began to catch up on the events that they had missed over the past few years, idle chatter to fill the time, and Maleos was okay with that for now. He wasn’t in the mood to try and converse with any nobles in a serious manner, every word needed to be carefully chosen and could be held in a manner that it was not meant to be. Better safe than sorry, he would stick to idle chatter with a family friend. There didn’t seem to be anyone else other than Tim that he knew there, or rather that he cared to interact with. He doubted that he would be able to keep the conversation going with his fathers friend all night, so he would eventually need another plan once the conversation ran dry with him. He hoped perhaps Tim would become available for conversation soon, or someone else would enter that he wouldn’t mind talking with.
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Maleos was typically not one to attend anything to do with the upper classes of society but given the recent events he felt it would be inappropriate for him to at least not be seen there. At the very least he could be there if Timaeus needed an escape or just a friend to help him avoid awkward conversations with people he did not care to speak with. Being that this event was an important one, and very many important people would be there, he even cleaned himself up, seeing to it that he had a bath before shaving. He left some facial hair, preferring not to be fully clean shaven, and he pulled his hair back and tied it neatly out of the way. Dressed in clean, new clothing, it would be easy to mistake him for someone who belonged at the event. He hated having to dress this way, preferring comfort over the way he looks, but it would not be appropriate to dress as he normally did.
He made his way from his barracks to the Dikastirio chamber. As he entered, his blue-green eyes searched for familiar faces, ones that he could bury himself in conversation with in order to avoid as many unwanted conversations with people he did not like or know as he could. He spotted Tim, but the man was engrossed in a conversation with another already, and he did not want to interrupt or insert himself in a conversation that he might not be welcome in.
Instead he looked around more, finally spotting someone he recognized, an old friend of his fathers, or rather a friendly customer of his fathers, in his childhood he had always stopped by and brought the children some sort of small present, usually some sort of carved trinket. He would spend awhile speaking with his father before taking his leave. Maleos was never sure his exact position within the upper levels of Colchis, but clearly it was important enough to land him an invite to the event.
He approached and greeted him, and he was recognized immediately. The two men began to catch up on the events that they had missed over the past few years, idle chatter to fill the time, and Maleos was okay with that for now. He wasn’t in the mood to try and converse with any nobles in a serious manner, every word needed to be carefully chosen and could be held in a manner that it was not meant to be. Better safe than sorry, he would stick to idle chatter with a family friend. There didn’t seem to be anyone else other than Tim that he knew there, or rather that he cared to interact with. He doubted that he would be able to keep the conversation going with his fathers friend all night, so he would eventually need another plan once the conversation ran dry with him. He hoped perhaps Tim would become available for conversation soon, or someone else would enter that he wouldn’t mind talking with.
Maleos was typically not one to attend anything to do with the upper classes of society but given the recent events he felt it would be inappropriate for him to at least not be seen there. At the very least he could be there if Timaeus needed an escape or just a friend to help him avoid awkward conversations with people he did not care to speak with. Being that this event was an important one, and very many important people would be there, he even cleaned himself up, seeing to it that he had a bath before shaving. He left some facial hair, preferring not to be fully clean shaven, and he pulled his hair back and tied it neatly out of the way. Dressed in clean, new clothing, it would be easy to mistake him for someone who belonged at the event. He hated having to dress this way, preferring comfort over the way he looks, but it would not be appropriate to dress as he normally did.
He made his way from his barracks to the Dikastirio chamber. As he entered, his blue-green eyes searched for familiar faces, ones that he could bury himself in conversation with in order to avoid as many unwanted conversations with people he did not like or know as he could. He spotted Tim, but the man was engrossed in a conversation with another already, and he did not want to interrupt or insert himself in a conversation that he might not be welcome in.
Instead he looked around more, finally spotting someone he recognized, an old friend of his fathers, or rather a friendly customer of his fathers, in his childhood he had always stopped by and brought the children some sort of small present, usually some sort of carved trinket. He would spend awhile speaking with his father before taking his leave. Maleos was never sure his exact position within the upper levels of Colchis, but clearly it was important enough to land him an invite to the event.
He approached and greeted him, and he was recognized immediately. The two men began to catch up on the events that they had missed over the past few years, idle chatter to fill the time, and Maleos was okay with that for now. He wasn’t in the mood to try and converse with any nobles in a serious manner, every word needed to be carefully chosen and could be held in a manner that it was not meant to be. Better safe than sorry, he would stick to idle chatter with a family friend. There didn’t seem to be anyone else other than Tim that he knew there, or rather that he cared to interact with. He doubted that he would be able to keep the conversation going with his fathers friend all night, so he would eventually need another plan once the conversation ran dry with him. He hoped perhaps Tim would become available for conversation soon, or someone else would enter that he wouldn’t mind talking with.
Mihail did not want to be here. He had never held any interest in the Kotas name outside of his sister's marriage or the opportunity to spread a few choice rumours here and there. But as misfortune might have had it, the family he had been so intently raised to dislike continued to hold the throne (no matter how close Evras appeared to be inching to the title of Queen), and when the new King requested that all the nobility of Colchis attend a feast, even the arguably least valuable member of the Thanasi clan was forced to participate.
He was not quite over the fuss he had been causing for the past weeks, still mildly perturbed by Nethis's revelation and his discussion with the priestesses, but after everything which had occurred, his continued complaints were not worth the effort. It seemed it was harder to act as though the world were against him than simply to accept that not much in his life had changed save for his brief and senseless ambition to marry some unknown servant girl, and although he had not ceased in his plans to pursue his alleged heritage, he had begrudgingly accepted the title of Lord once more, and returned his residence to his more comfortable family home. There were few downsides to the return, and Mihail relished what he considered civilised company once more, although Dysius continued to test his patience in ways he could not imagine.
They had been paired together for this ordeal, but that was nothing new. It seemed that from their earliest days people had been intent on pushing the pair of brothers together, however dissimilar they might have been, solely by cause of their equal sex. It was infinitely and distressingly humiliating.
Dysius had not made an effort, as if he ever did. When Mihail had appeared in the entrance of the Thanasi home, and the two of them had been awaiting their sisters' arrival, he had somehow furrowed his brow further than seemed possible, run his gaze over the tightly cinched sable chiton the younger of the pair had selected (the gesture partially in mourning of the late King's passing and partly chosen as one of his house colours), and the silver snakes running up and down his arms and through his dark hair, and raised an eyebrow in apparent disdain. "You look like a woman."
"And you look like a child," Mihail replied, alluding to his brother's short stature. He was well aware that his outfit could have been deemed more feminine than was typically acceptable - he had stolen the extensive jewellery from Thea, though that was nothing new - but he had never been bothered by the claims. He had been raised almost wholly by his sisters; it seemed no surprise that the long-haired male would have taken on some more commonly female traits. Blinking delicately kohl-rimmed eyes, he gave the other an unimpressed pout, reaching out to rest a hand almost mockingly on his shoulder, tapping lightly with Thanasi-tinted nails as if in faked concern. "Besides, they are expecting lords, not savages. I have spent a month in pauperdom: it is only fair that I look my absolute best for my first event returned to my given title." He glanced down at the collection of bangles decorating his brother's wrist, the most trouble the man seemed to have put into his physical appearance. "It has been a difficult time."
"Oh, yes, I'm sure plenty of peasants spend their days lounging around their local baron's estate. Tell me, was it terribly stressful having to grow that scruff you called a beard?"
It was the kind of comment Mihail had grown used to over the past few days. He had never gotten on well with his older brother, and it seemed the elder did his best to hurt him however he could, though the remarks which often stung others had little effect on him after so many years, though it had never stopped him from acting in subtle vengeance. For once, he only turned away from the shorter man and toward where his sisters would soon be appearing, a hand gingerly reaching up to stroke his now smooth chin, the tufts of hair from the aforementioned beard shaved away on his sister's request and after plentiful complaints from the rest of the family. It had, perhaps, been a foolish attempt to embrace at least one of the peasant traits he had otherwise rejected, despite his constant insistence that this was all he was, and it had been the first to go when he had returned home. Besides, Thea had offered him both perfumed oil for his heavy locks and a much-desired comb once he had done so, and the opportunity to tend to that still-long mane without the pretence of peasant fuss was a welcome one.
Their sisters and father were taking an awfully long time. It was hard to tell how long the brothers could make it in the dull entryway before they leapt at each other's throats. Mihail could not resist the retaliation, even when his sisters' footprints grew noticeably close, and he knew he was more than likely to be reprimanded for the comment.
"At least I can grow a beard."
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Mihail did not want to be here. He had never held any interest in the Kotas name outside of his sister's marriage or the opportunity to spread a few choice rumours here and there. But as misfortune might have had it, the family he had been so intently raised to dislike continued to hold the throne (no matter how close Evras appeared to be inching to the title of Queen), and when the new King requested that all the nobility of Colchis attend a feast, even the arguably least valuable member of the Thanasi clan was forced to participate.
He was not quite over the fuss he had been causing for the past weeks, still mildly perturbed by Nethis's revelation and his discussion with the priestesses, but after everything which had occurred, his continued complaints were not worth the effort. It seemed it was harder to act as though the world were against him than simply to accept that not much in his life had changed save for his brief and senseless ambition to marry some unknown servant girl, and although he had not ceased in his plans to pursue his alleged heritage, he had begrudgingly accepted the title of Lord once more, and returned his residence to his more comfortable family home. There were few downsides to the return, and Mihail relished what he considered civilised company once more, although Dysius continued to test his patience in ways he could not imagine.
They had been paired together for this ordeal, but that was nothing new. It seemed that from their earliest days people had been intent on pushing the pair of brothers together, however dissimilar they might have been, solely by cause of their equal sex. It was infinitely and distressingly humiliating.
Dysius had not made an effort, as if he ever did. When Mihail had appeared in the entrance of the Thanasi home, and the two of them had been awaiting their sisters' arrival, he had somehow furrowed his brow further than seemed possible, run his gaze over the tightly cinched sable chiton the younger of the pair had selected (the gesture partially in mourning of the late King's passing and partly chosen as one of his house colours), and the silver snakes running up and down his arms and through his dark hair, and raised an eyebrow in apparent disdain. "You look like a woman."
"And you look like a child," Mihail replied, alluding to his brother's short stature. He was well aware that his outfit could have been deemed more feminine than was typically acceptable - he had stolen the extensive jewellery from Thea, though that was nothing new - but he had never been bothered by the claims. He had been raised almost wholly by his sisters; it seemed no surprise that the long-haired male would have taken on some more commonly female traits. Blinking delicately kohl-rimmed eyes, he gave the other an unimpressed pout, reaching out to rest a hand almost mockingly on his shoulder, tapping lightly with Thanasi-tinted nails as if in faked concern. "Besides, they are expecting lords, not savages. I have spent a month in pauperdom: it is only fair that I look my absolute best for my first event returned to my given title." He glanced down at the collection of bangles decorating his brother's wrist, the most trouble the man seemed to have put into his physical appearance. "It has been a difficult time."
"Oh, yes, I'm sure plenty of peasants spend their days lounging around their local baron's estate. Tell me, was it terribly stressful having to grow that scruff you called a beard?"
It was the kind of comment Mihail had grown used to over the past few days. He had never gotten on well with his older brother, and it seemed the elder did his best to hurt him however he could, though the remarks which often stung others had little effect on him after so many years, though it had never stopped him from acting in subtle vengeance. For once, he only turned away from the shorter man and toward where his sisters would soon be appearing, a hand gingerly reaching up to stroke his now smooth chin, the tufts of hair from the aforementioned beard shaved away on his sister's request and after plentiful complaints from the rest of the family. It had, perhaps, been a foolish attempt to embrace at least one of the peasant traits he had otherwise rejected, despite his constant insistence that this was all he was, and it had been the first to go when he had returned home. Besides, Thea had offered him both perfumed oil for his heavy locks and a much-desired comb once he had done so, and the opportunity to tend to that still-long mane without the pretence of peasant fuss was a welcome one.
Their sisters and father were taking an awfully long time. It was hard to tell how long the brothers could make it in the dull entryway before they leapt at each other's throats. Mihail could not resist the retaliation, even when his sisters' footprints grew noticeably close, and he knew he was more than likely to be reprimanded for the comment.
"At least I can grow a beard."
Mihail did not want to be here. He had never held any interest in the Kotas name outside of his sister's marriage or the opportunity to spread a few choice rumours here and there. But as misfortune might have had it, the family he had been so intently raised to dislike continued to hold the throne (no matter how close Evras appeared to be inching to the title of Queen), and when the new King requested that all the nobility of Colchis attend a feast, even the arguably least valuable member of the Thanasi clan was forced to participate.
He was not quite over the fuss he had been causing for the past weeks, still mildly perturbed by Nethis's revelation and his discussion with the priestesses, but after everything which had occurred, his continued complaints were not worth the effort. It seemed it was harder to act as though the world were against him than simply to accept that not much in his life had changed save for his brief and senseless ambition to marry some unknown servant girl, and although he had not ceased in his plans to pursue his alleged heritage, he had begrudgingly accepted the title of Lord once more, and returned his residence to his more comfortable family home. There were few downsides to the return, and Mihail relished what he considered civilised company once more, although Dysius continued to test his patience in ways he could not imagine.
They had been paired together for this ordeal, but that was nothing new. It seemed that from their earliest days people had been intent on pushing the pair of brothers together, however dissimilar they might have been, solely by cause of their equal sex. It was infinitely and distressingly humiliating.
Dysius had not made an effort, as if he ever did. When Mihail had appeared in the entrance of the Thanasi home, and the two of them had been awaiting their sisters' arrival, he had somehow furrowed his brow further than seemed possible, run his gaze over the tightly cinched sable chiton the younger of the pair had selected (the gesture partially in mourning of the late King's passing and partly chosen as one of his house colours), and the silver snakes running up and down his arms and through his dark hair, and raised an eyebrow in apparent disdain. "You look like a woman."
"And you look like a child," Mihail replied, alluding to his brother's short stature. He was well aware that his outfit could have been deemed more feminine than was typically acceptable - he had stolen the extensive jewellery from Thea, though that was nothing new - but he had never been bothered by the claims. He had been raised almost wholly by his sisters; it seemed no surprise that the long-haired male would have taken on some more commonly female traits. Blinking delicately kohl-rimmed eyes, he gave the other an unimpressed pout, reaching out to rest a hand almost mockingly on his shoulder, tapping lightly with Thanasi-tinted nails as if in faked concern. "Besides, they are expecting lords, not savages. I have spent a month in pauperdom: it is only fair that I look my absolute best for my first event returned to my given title." He glanced down at the collection of bangles decorating his brother's wrist, the most trouble the man seemed to have put into his physical appearance. "It has been a difficult time."
"Oh, yes, I'm sure plenty of peasants spend their days lounging around their local baron's estate. Tell me, was it terribly stressful having to grow that scruff you called a beard?"
It was the kind of comment Mihail had grown used to over the past few days. He had never gotten on well with his older brother, and it seemed the elder did his best to hurt him however he could, though the remarks which often stung others had little effect on him after so many years, though it had never stopped him from acting in subtle vengeance. For once, he only turned away from the shorter man and toward where his sisters would soon be appearing, a hand gingerly reaching up to stroke his now smooth chin, the tufts of hair from the aforementioned beard shaved away on his sister's request and after plentiful complaints from the rest of the family. It had, perhaps, been a foolish attempt to embrace at least one of the peasant traits he had otherwise rejected, despite his constant insistence that this was all he was, and it had been the first to go when he had returned home. Besides, Thea had offered him both perfumed oil for his heavy locks and a much-desired comb once he had done so, and the opportunity to tend to that still-long mane without the pretence of peasant fuss was a welcome one.
Their sisters and father were taking an awfully long time. It was hard to tell how long the brothers could make it in the dull entryway before they leapt at each other's throats. Mihail could not resist the retaliation, even when his sisters' footprints grew noticeably close, and he knew he was more than likely to be reprimanded for the comment.
"At least I can grow a beard."
Stone cold sober. A fairly unusual state for the younger Valaoritis lord, and yet Sil didn’t dare play that game tonight. He had been quiet all day, the reality of being in a confined space with the new King playing on his mind, and now, as he entered the hall with his brother at his side, Silanos thought he felt sick. Perhaps it was fatigue, which always hit harder without the buffer of wine or other distractions. Or, more annoyingly, he thought it might be nerves. He melted away from Timaeus almost instantly, not wanting to draw any attention to their presence. It would be easier to remain on the outskirts on his own.
It was not that he didn’t want to be there - indeed, Silanos thought if he had to make further conversation with the household staff, he would go mad. It would be good to be amongst people outside of those who who were permitted within the Valaoritis’ Midas home. But, he might have preferred it if their distinguished host wasn’t a man who bore a grudge toward he and his brother. And maybe if he wasn’t going to be faced with Evras again. Or Zanon, who he could not look at without seeing the stunned expression of that slave boy as he had bled crimson for Sil’s own mistakes.
Oddly, given how much he had bemoaned the man’s existence almost every moment of the past weeks, he found himself missing the solid presence of Daxos by his side. He might have found the guard being there a little reassuring tonight of all nights. But instead he was surrounded by the Colchian nobility, and so Sil fell into the familiar and slipped into conversation easily with some of those faces he had not seen since his return. What with the unexpected arrival of Taengean royalty, there were plenty of questions thrown his way about their neighbouring kingdom. Did he know the King? Was it true that he was disgraced? Do they really drink as much as people say? Silanos did not mind telling some stories of his time away, and soon had gathered an eager audience who he regaled with some choice tales, not entirely without embellishment.
He’d always had an easy time in a crowd, having no qualms about being the center of attention, but Sil missed the crutch of being drunk or high now. It was wearing faking a smile and he kept spacing out a little, so following the thread of conversation that bounced around amongst the lords and ladies that he stood with was hard work.
Despite his affectation of easy humour, he had positioned himself so he might keep half an eye on the entrance, and even with the free flowing wine that was being circulated, he took instead a cup of water, holding it close to his chest as entertained his fellows. He also found himself checking where Timaeus was every so often, needing to keep his brother in sight just for that little feeling of security that it offered. He was discovering that it was much harder to be blase about his misdeeds when his head was clear. Or at least as clear as it got with as little sleep as he ran on. He was a fucking mess.
Stifling a yawn, Silanos blinked and let his eyes roam the chamber in an attempt to wake them up a little, only to find someone else looking back at him. The Good Captain Maleos. No doubt having been told by his brother to keep an eye on him. Rolling his eyes, Sil gave the man a coquettish little wave before deliberately turning his back to him and wandering off to speak to a delightfully vapid girl that he was almost sure he’d had a fumble with. It wasn’t exactly challenging to sweet talk her and make her smile, nor to angle her just so, making sure he could still keep an eye on the door. When it came to their new King, Silanos had decided that avoidance was the best strategy.
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Stone cold sober. A fairly unusual state for the younger Valaoritis lord, and yet Sil didn’t dare play that game tonight. He had been quiet all day, the reality of being in a confined space with the new King playing on his mind, and now, as he entered the hall with his brother at his side, Silanos thought he felt sick. Perhaps it was fatigue, which always hit harder without the buffer of wine or other distractions. Or, more annoyingly, he thought it might be nerves. He melted away from Timaeus almost instantly, not wanting to draw any attention to their presence. It would be easier to remain on the outskirts on his own.
It was not that he didn’t want to be there - indeed, Silanos thought if he had to make further conversation with the household staff, he would go mad. It would be good to be amongst people outside of those who who were permitted within the Valaoritis’ Midas home. But, he might have preferred it if their distinguished host wasn’t a man who bore a grudge toward he and his brother. And maybe if he wasn’t going to be faced with Evras again. Or Zanon, who he could not look at without seeing the stunned expression of that slave boy as he had bled crimson for Sil’s own mistakes.
Oddly, given how much he had bemoaned the man’s existence almost every moment of the past weeks, he found himself missing the solid presence of Daxos by his side. He might have found the guard being there a little reassuring tonight of all nights. But instead he was surrounded by the Colchian nobility, and so Sil fell into the familiar and slipped into conversation easily with some of those faces he had not seen since his return. What with the unexpected arrival of Taengean royalty, there were plenty of questions thrown his way about their neighbouring kingdom. Did he know the King? Was it true that he was disgraced? Do they really drink as much as people say? Silanos did not mind telling some stories of his time away, and soon had gathered an eager audience who he regaled with some choice tales, not entirely without embellishment.
He’d always had an easy time in a crowd, having no qualms about being the center of attention, but Sil missed the crutch of being drunk or high now. It was wearing faking a smile and he kept spacing out a little, so following the thread of conversation that bounced around amongst the lords and ladies that he stood with was hard work.
Despite his affectation of easy humour, he had positioned himself so he might keep half an eye on the entrance, and even with the free flowing wine that was being circulated, he took instead a cup of water, holding it close to his chest as entertained his fellows. He also found himself checking where Timaeus was every so often, needing to keep his brother in sight just for that little feeling of security that it offered. He was discovering that it was much harder to be blase about his misdeeds when his head was clear. Or at least as clear as it got with as little sleep as he ran on. He was a fucking mess.
Stifling a yawn, Silanos blinked and let his eyes roam the chamber in an attempt to wake them up a little, only to find someone else looking back at him. The Good Captain Maleos. No doubt having been told by his brother to keep an eye on him. Rolling his eyes, Sil gave the man a coquettish little wave before deliberately turning his back to him and wandering off to speak to a delightfully vapid girl that he was almost sure he’d had a fumble with. It wasn’t exactly challenging to sweet talk her and make her smile, nor to angle her just so, making sure he could still keep an eye on the door. When it came to their new King, Silanos had decided that avoidance was the best strategy.
Stone cold sober. A fairly unusual state for the younger Valaoritis lord, and yet Sil didn’t dare play that game tonight. He had been quiet all day, the reality of being in a confined space with the new King playing on his mind, and now, as he entered the hall with his brother at his side, Silanos thought he felt sick. Perhaps it was fatigue, which always hit harder without the buffer of wine or other distractions. Or, more annoyingly, he thought it might be nerves. He melted away from Timaeus almost instantly, not wanting to draw any attention to their presence. It would be easier to remain on the outskirts on his own.
It was not that he didn’t want to be there - indeed, Silanos thought if he had to make further conversation with the household staff, he would go mad. It would be good to be amongst people outside of those who who were permitted within the Valaoritis’ Midas home. But, he might have preferred it if their distinguished host wasn’t a man who bore a grudge toward he and his brother. And maybe if he wasn’t going to be faced with Evras again. Or Zanon, who he could not look at without seeing the stunned expression of that slave boy as he had bled crimson for Sil’s own mistakes.
Oddly, given how much he had bemoaned the man’s existence almost every moment of the past weeks, he found himself missing the solid presence of Daxos by his side. He might have found the guard being there a little reassuring tonight of all nights. But instead he was surrounded by the Colchian nobility, and so Sil fell into the familiar and slipped into conversation easily with some of those faces he had not seen since his return. What with the unexpected arrival of Taengean royalty, there were plenty of questions thrown his way about their neighbouring kingdom. Did he know the King? Was it true that he was disgraced? Do they really drink as much as people say? Silanos did not mind telling some stories of his time away, and soon had gathered an eager audience who he regaled with some choice tales, not entirely without embellishment.
He’d always had an easy time in a crowd, having no qualms about being the center of attention, but Sil missed the crutch of being drunk or high now. It was wearing faking a smile and he kept spacing out a little, so following the thread of conversation that bounced around amongst the lords and ladies that he stood with was hard work.
Despite his affectation of easy humour, he had positioned himself so he might keep half an eye on the entrance, and even with the free flowing wine that was being circulated, he took instead a cup of water, holding it close to his chest as entertained his fellows. He also found himself checking where Timaeus was every so often, needing to keep his brother in sight just for that little feeling of security that it offered. He was discovering that it was much harder to be blase about his misdeeds when his head was clear. Or at least as clear as it got with as little sleep as he ran on. He was a fucking mess.
Stifling a yawn, Silanos blinked and let his eyes roam the chamber in an attempt to wake them up a little, only to find someone else looking back at him. The Good Captain Maleos. No doubt having been told by his brother to keep an eye on him. Rolling his eyes, Sil gave the man a coquettish little wave before deliberately turning his back to him and wandering off to speak to a delightfully vapid girl that he was almost sure he’d had a fumble with. It wasn’t exactly challenging to sweet talk her and make her smile, nor to angle her just so, making sure he could still keep an eye on the door. When it came to their new King, Silanos had decided that avoidance was the best strategy.
The feast was unsurprising, and Evras had had a hand in the preparation of it, especially when her husband and his brother had been largely tasked with not only arranging the coronation with the Queen's input, but also in entertaining their guests. The two extra guests whom had arrived the night before sent Evras working late in ensuring supplies within the Kotas manor was sufficient for the extra amount of mouths that had to be fed, and upon the discovery that it was not, meant Evras had to spend a little more time going through what extra was needed so the servants could head off to purchase the next day.
Luckily for her, the Queen had instructed Athanasia to assist in the prepping of the feast, which meant the princess had spent much time with her sister-in-law over the last three or so days in going over the details of the feast. It didn't help of course, that now not only was there the fact that her father-in-law - a man Evras could never imagine would be dead - was now no longer among the living, but that the whole of Greece now waited with bated breath as they dealt with the possibility of war with Egypt. The last occurence of this resulted in many deaths and families torn apart, not to mention Evras was not at all thrilled with the possibility that Zanon may have to head out to the battlefield again, especially not with the one growing in her belly.
The worried look was etched in her face as her servants dressed her, a deep midnight blue chiton that was pinned on her shoulders with a silver fibulae the shape of a bear's paw, before the rest of the shimmery fabric was left to flow down her arms. Her three month old belly was easily hidden under the loose dress, but for safety's sake, she had her servants fasten the silver and red belt just a little below her waist so it rode loose. Dark hair was piled above her head, and adorned with a silver tiara embedded with Colchian rubies, but that was the extent of her jewelry unless one counted the necklace of the Thanasi crest that always nestled in the middle where her neckbones met.
Checking her appearance one last time, Evras allowed the servant to lace up her silver slippers around her calves, before she finally exited her chambers and headed for the carriage that would carry her to her birth family's residence. Her husband and the rest of the family would be leaving separately, but Evras had sought out to head to her siblings first. Busy with the past few weeks ever since that fateful day in Nethisa, Evras had not seen much of them, and as such had told Dion to follow her father (as she was sure the young boy was eager to mirror everything his father and uncles want to do at this age), and took a larger carriage to the Thanasi residence.
The vehicle rolled up just in time for Evras's blue-green eyes to catch sight of her her two youngest brothers, and after years of watching them, there was no doubt from the way they stood now, that Mihail and Dysius were arguing.
As the carriage rolled to a stop, Evras pushed the door open and gave the two a knowing smile. "Would you two stop bickering for one day?" she tenderly reprimanded, and then looked up at the house as if looking for her two elder sisters, and their father. As if she could summon them however, the door opened, but it was to Evras's surprise that a servant came helping an old and wizening Dionysios out.
Quickly, Evras picked up her skirts and hurried over to her father's side. While he may be senile and likely did not even recognize her, she had still been her father growing up, and when the old man waved a walking stick in her face as she approached, Evras merely ducked and then took the arm of the old man, talking to him in a soft voice before dismissing the servant and helping Dionysios towards her waiting carriage. "Are Thea and Nethis not ready yet?" she asked her two brothers, as she supported Dionysios up the vehicle, watching as yet another carriage was brought round, no doubt the one to bring the rest of the Thanasi's to the Dikasitrio.
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Check out their information page here.
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The feast was unsurprising, and Evras had had a hand in the preparation of it, especially when her husband and his brother had been largely tasked with not only arranging the coronation with the Queen's input, but also in entertaining their guests. The two extra guests whom had arrived the night before sent Evras working late in ensuring supplies within the Kotas manor was sufficient for the extra amount of mouths that had to be fed, and upon the discovery that it was not, meant Evras had to spend a little more time going through what extra was needed so the servants could head off to purchase the next day.
Luckily for her, the Queen had instructed Athanasia to assist in the prepping of the feast, which meant the princess had spent much time with her sister-in-law over the last three or so days in going over the details of the feast. It didn't help of course, that now not only was there the fact that her father-in-law - a man Evras could never imagine would be dead - was now no longer among the living, but that the whole of Greece now waited with bated breath as they dealt with the possibility of war with Egypt. The last occurence of this resulted in many deaths and families torn apart, not to mention Evras was not at all thrilled with the possibility that Zanon may have to head out to the battlefield again, especially not with the one growing in her belly.
The worried look was etched in her face as her servants dressed her, a deep midnight blue chiton that was pinned on her shoulders with a silver fibulae the shape of a bear's paw, before the rest of the shimmery fabric was left to flow down her arms. Her three month old belly was easily hidden under the loose dress, but for safety's sake, she had her servants fasten the silver and red belt just a little below her waist so it rode loose. Dark hair was piled above her head, and adorned with a silver tiara embedded with Colchian rubies, but that was the extent of her jewelry unless one counted the necklace of the Thanasi crest that always nestled in the middle where her neckbones met.
Checking her appearance one last time, Evras allowed the servant to lace up her silver slippers around her calves, before she finally exited her chambers and headed for the carriage that would carry her to her birth family's residence. Her husband and the rest of the family would be leaving separately, but Evras had sought out to head to her siblings first. Busy with the past few weeks ever since that fateful day in Nethisa, Evras had not seen much of them, and as such had told Dion to follow her father (as she was sure the young boy was eager to mirror everything his father and uncles want to do at this age), and took a larger carriage to the Thanasi residence.
The vehicle rolled up just in time for Evras's blue-green eyes to catch sight of her her two youngest brothers, and after years of watching them, there was no doubt from the way they stood now, that Mihail and Dysius were arguing.
As the carriage rolled to a stop, Evras pushed the door open and gave the two a knowing smile. "Would you two stop bickering for one day?" she tenderly reprimanded, and then looked up at the house as if looking for her two elder sisters, and their father. As if she could summon them however, the door opened, but it was to Evras's surprise that a servant came helping an old and wizening Dionysios out.
Quickly, Evras picked up her skirts and hurried over to her father's side. While he may be senile and likely did not even recognize her, she had still been her father growing up, and when the old man waved a walking stick in her face as she approached, Evras merely ducked and then took the arm of the old man, talking to him in a soft voice before dismissing the servant and helping Dionysios towards her waiting carriage. "Are Thea and Nethis not ready yet?" she asked her two brothers, as she supported Dionysios up the vehicle, watching as yet another carriage was brought round, no doubt the one to bring the rest of the Thanasi's to the Dikasitrio.
The feast was unsurprising, and Evras had had a hand in the preparation of it, especially when her husband and his brother had been largely tasked with not only arranging the coronation with the Queen's input, but also in entertaining their guests. The two extra guests whom had arrived the night before sent Evras working late in ensuring supplies within the Kotas manor was sufficient for the extra amount of mouths that had to be fed, and upon the discovery that it was not, meant Evras had to spend a little more time going through what extra was needed so the servants could head off to purchase the next day.
Luckily for her, the Queen had instructed Athanasia to assist in the prepping of the feast, which meant the princess had spent much time with her sister-in-law over the last three or so days in going over the details of the feast. It didn't help of course, that now not only was there the fact that her father-in-law - a man Evras could never imagine would be dead - was now no longer among the living, but that the whole of Greece now waited with bated breath as they dealt with the possibility of war with Egypt. The last occurence of this resulted in many deaths and families torn apart, not to mention Evras was not at all thrilled with the possibility that Zanon may have to head out to the battlefield again, especially not with the one growing in her belly.
The worried look was etched in her face as her servants dressed her, a deep midnight blue chiton that was pinned on her shoulders with a silver fibulae the shape of a bear's paw, before the rest of the shimmery fabric was left to flow down her arms. Her three month old belly was easily hidden under the loose dress, but for safety's sake, she had her servants fasten the silver and red belt just a little below her waist so it rode loose. Dark hair was piled above her head, and adorned with a silver tiara embedded with Colchian rubies, but that was the extent of her jewelry unless one counted the necklace of the Thanasi crest that always nestled in the middle where her neckbones met.
Checking her appearance one last time, Evras allowed the servant to lace up her silver slippers around her calves, before she finally exited her chambers and headed for the carriage that would carry her to her birth family's residence. Her husband and the rest of the family would be leaving separately, but Evras had sought out to head to her siblings first. Busy with the past few weeks ever since that fateful day in Nethisa, Evras had not seen much of them, and as such had told Dion to follow her father (as she was sure the young boy was eager to mirror everything his father and uncles want to do at this age), and took a larger carriage to the Thanasi residence.
The vehicle rolled up just in time for Evras's blue-green eyes to catch sight of her her two youngest brothers, and after years of watching them, there was no doubt from the way they stood now, that Mihail and Dysius were arguing.
As the carriage rolled to a stop, Evras pushed the door open and gave the two a knowing smile. "Would you two stop bickering for one day?" she tenderly reprimanded, and then looked up at the house as if looking for her two elder sisters, and their father. As if she could summon them however, the door opened, but it was to Evras's surprise that a servant came helping an old and wizening Dionysios out.
Quickly, Evras picked up her skirts and hurried over to her father's side. While he may be senile and likely did not even recognize her, she had still been her father growing up, and when the old man waved a walking stick in her face as she approached, Evras merely ducked and then took the arm of the old man, talking to him in a soft voice before dismissing the servant and helping Dionysios towards her waiting carriage. "Are Thea and Nethis not ready yet?" she asked her two brothers, as she supported Dionysios up the vehicle, watching as yet another carriage was brought round, no doubt the one to bring the rest of the Thanasi's to the Dikasitrio.
To say that Nana was happy to be on land would be an understatement. Though the Leventi seemed to have a better hold of her stomach than her mother, who seemed to be heaving over the side of the ship more than she wasn't, the constant crashing of waves against the ship left Nana nauseous enough for an entire lifetime. Though seeing new sights and reuniting with her eldest sister was all very nice, Nana was most happy to sleep in a real bed on a real floor that did not rock back and forth. Far too exhausted to even think of sneaking off on her own to explore the potential nightlife of Midas, Nana was quick to drift into the land of slumber after sinking into her bed, postponing her reunion with her dearest Pia.
Yet, it seemed it would have to wait, for the very next day, a feast was to be held. Though she had been anxious for weeks to see her sister, and to meet the child that had made her an aunt, Nana had never been one to decline an invitation to a social event, especially one with young, available princes. Pia could wait just a little longer, surely.
Not having expected the death of the former King of Colchis, Nana had no mourning in the vast expanse of silks she'd brought with her for the trip, though that which she had back home was a small number in comparison to her expansive collection, acquired after the death of her former king. Yet, it didn't seem quite appropriate to Nana to wear black anyway, seeing as she had never before set foot in Colchis, let alone correspond with its king. So, she settled for the darkest that she had brought with her: a midnight purple silk trimmed with silver thread. Though the young blonde usually opted for gold jewelry, she would never be caught clashing, so she instead wore simple (at least, for her) silver cuffs on each wrist, a silver chain that held her favourite amethyst pendant at her chest, and silver fibulae with a great deal of delicate embellishment. A rather common look for her, the Leventi opted to pull the tresses framing her face back to pin them in place at the back of her head with amethyst-laden pins, the rest of her hair left to do as it would.
At learning that the feast was to be held at the Dikastirio rather than the palati was perplexing to the Taengean noble. Even more so was to learn that there was no palati to be found in the city of Midas. If being told that Colchians were barbaric throughout her years at court didn't convince the girl, this fact confirmed what a strange group these Colchians were to her. Who wouldn't want a palati? The one in Vasiliadon was a marvel to behold! Surely there was space enough for one to be built? The thought could not occur to her that perhaps Colchians preferred it that way, it seemed the only possibility was that they held out as some form of asceticism. There was absolutely no other answer.
Yet, any disappointment the Taengean might have found with the venue was made up for with the opportunity that she had held out for since she had started courting: the chance to land a prince. Yes, Nana was not all too pleased with the prospect of spending the rest of her life in Colchis, as it seemed nothing like the lush, rolling hills and serene beaches of her homeland, but certain things were more important than that. Namely, becoming a princess.
As she entered the Dikastirio, Nana noted that she recognized absolutely nobody, which was predictable, yet she did not find herself prepared to be at a court event at which the only person she knew was her mother. Considering her status as an outsider, and that her mother would likely panic if she ran off at such an important event, Nana stuck to her mother's side, following behind her like a good daughter and setting her attention on looking about the room for any sign of a familiar face, nodding her head vaguely as her mother spoke to the occasional lord, but not chiming in with her usual self-centered drivel.
When her sister appeared from the crowd, dressed in the same deep hue that both Nana and her mother had donned, Nana let a quiet sigh escape her lips, forcing a small court smile on her face, but not bothering to say any more than a simple, "Wonderful to see you as always, Selene." Nana would leave the rest of that conversation to Evelli. She was the one who enjoyed the Selene's company, after all. For Nana, the girl's presence acted more as a reminder of everything that she was not, which very clearly didn't sit well with her. Why would she actively seek out the company of one who made her feel like a burden? It seemed like rather thankless endeavour to the fourth of Evelli's daughters. Besides, Nana did not travel across the sea to see Selene. She had come for Pia, and she would certainly show a much greater deal of excitement at reuniting with her Sweet Pea.
As quickly as her gaze had moved to her sister, it just as quickly flitted back to her surroundings, taking in the surroundings of this foreign yet familiar occasion. And it was at this time, during a survey of those in attendance, that Nana found herself meeting the piercing blue gaze of a man she'd certainly never seen before. After a brief moment of bewilderment where she most definitely looked frozen in shock, her eyes quickly looked for any other subject to fix themselves upon. At first, she reassured herself that the man in question was only looking around. Or, perhaps not? This was her first appearance in Colchian court. Perhaps he was intrigued, or like many others before him, transfixed by her Leventi beauty. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that she'd had eyes on her.
Another glance in the man's direction gave the girl an answer to the question she'd been debating in her head, as once again, the two locked eyes, and yet again, Nana found herself quickly looking away. So, he was transfixed. And perhaps, so was she. His face was strikingly similar to that of the now King Vangelis. It would not be a far cry at all to think that perhaps, this man was one of the princes she'd had her hopes set on? Nana had to bite her lip to try and suppress the sudden excitement that threatened to show itself on her face. She needed to stay calm, elegant, refined. Men liked refinement, after all.
Yet, she couldn't keep herself from glancing up in his direction once more, and yet again meeting his gaze. Perhaps this time she had been a bit better prepared for it, though, as she didn't immediately look away like some shrinking violet. Instead, she held his gaze, staring at him with a Nana amount of intensity, an eyebrow raised, just waiting for her prince to come over and introduce himself.
It seemed that everything that Nana had hoped of this trip would come to her sooner than imagined. How she was happy to be right here, right now, in this moment.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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To say that Nana was happy to be on land would be an understatement. Though the Leventi seemed to have a better hold of her stomach than her mother, who seemed to be heaving over the side of the ship more than she wasn't, the constant crashing of waves against the ship left Nana nauseous enough for an entire lifetime. Though seeing new sights and reuniting with her eldest sister was all very nice, Nana was most happy to sleep in a real bed on a real floor that did not rock back and forth. Far too exhausted to even think of sneaking off on her own to explore the potential nightlife of Midas, Nana was quick to drift into the land of slumber after sinking into her bed, postponing her reunion with her dearest Pia.
Yet, it seemed it would have to wait, for the very next day, a feast was to be held. Though she had been anxious for weeks to see her sister, and to meet the child that had made her an aunt, Nana had never been one to decline an invitation to a social event, especially one with young, available princes. Pia could wait just a little longer, surely.
Not having expected the death of the former King of Colchis, Nana had no mourning in the vast expanse of silks she'd brought with her for the trip, though that which she had back home was a small number in comparison to her expansive collection, acquired after the death of her former king. Yet, it didn't seem quite appropriate to Nana to wear black anyway, seeing as she had never before set foot in Colchis, let alone correspond with its king. So, she settled for the darkest that she had brought with her: a midnight purple silk trimmed with silver thread. Though the young blonde usually opted for gold jewelry, she would never be caught clashing, so she instead wore simple (at least, for her) silver cuffs on each wrist, a silver chain that held her favourite amethyst pendant at her chest, and silver fibulae with a great deal of delicate embellishment. A rather common look for her, the Leventi opted to pull the tresses framing her face back to pin them in place at the back of her head with amethyst-laden pins, the rest of her hair left to do as it would.
At learning that the feast was to be held at the Dikastirio rather than the palati was perplexing to the Taengean noble. Even more so was to learn that there was no palati to be found in the city of Midas. If being told that Colchians were barbaric throughout her years at court didn't convince the girl, this fact confirmed what a strange group these Colchians were to her. Who wouldn't want a palati? The one in Vasiliadon was a marvel to behold! Surely there was space enough for one to be built? The thought could not occur to her that perhaps Colchians preferred it that way, it seemed the only possibility was that they held out as some form of asceticism. There was absolutely no other answer.
Yet, any disappointment the Taengean might have found with the venue was made up for with the opportunity that she had held out for since she had started courting: the chance to land a prince. Yes, Nana was not all too pleased with the prospect of spending the rest of her life in Colchis, as it seemed nothing like the lush, rolling hills and serene beaches of her homeland, but certain things were more important than that. Namely, becoming a princess.
As she entered the Dikastirio, Nana noted that she recognized absolutely nobody, which was predictable, yet she did not find herself prepared to be at a court event at which the only person she knew was her mother. Considering her status as an outsider, and that her mother would likely panic if she ran off at such an important event, Nana stuck to her mother's side, following behind her like a good daughter and setting her attention on looking about the room for any sign of a familiar face, nodding her head vaguely as her mother spoke to the occasional lord, but not chiming in with her usual self-centered drivel.
When her sister appeared from the crowd, dressed in the same deep hue that both Nana and her mother had donned, Nana let a quiet sigh escape her lips, forcing a small court smile on her face, but not bothering to say any more than a simple, "Wonderful to see you as always, Selene." Nana would leave the rest of that conversation to Evelli. She was the one who enjoyed the Selene's company, after all. For Nana, the girl's presence acted more as a reminder of everything that she was not, which very clearly didn't sit well with her. Why would she actively seek out the company of one who made her feel like a burden? It seemed like rather thankless endeavour to the fourth of Evelli's daughters. Besides, Nana did not travel across the sea to see Selene. She had come for Pia, and she would certainly show a much greater deal of excitement at reuniting with her Sweet Pea.
As quickly as her gaze had moved to her sister, it just as quickly flitted back to her surroundings, taking in the surroundings of this foreign yet familiar occasion. And it was at this time, during a survey of those in attendance, that Nana found herself meeting the piercing blue gaze of a man she'd certainly never seen before. After a brief moment of bewilderment where she most definitely looked frozen in shock, her eyes quickly looked for any other subject to fix themselves upon. At first, she reassured herself that the man in question was only looking around. Or, perhaps not? This was her first appearance in Colchian court. Perhaps he was intrigued, or like many others before him, transfixed by her Leventi beauty. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that she'd had eyes on her.
Another glance in the man's direction gave the girl an answer to the question she'd been debating in her head, as once again, the two locked eyes, and yet again, Nana found herself quickly looking away. So, he was transfixed. And perhaps, so was she. His face was strikingly similar to that of the now King Vangelis. It would not be a far cry at all to think that perhaps, this man was one of the princes she'd had her hopes set on? Nana had to bite her lip to try and suppress the sudden excitement that threatened to show itself on her face. She needed to stay calm, elegant, refined. Men liked refinement, after all.
Yet, she couldn't keep herself from glancing up in his direction once more, and yet again meeting his gaze. Perhaps this time she had been a bit better prepared for it, though, as she didn't immediately look away like some shrinking violet. Instead, she held his gaze, staring at him with a Nana amount of intensity, an eyebrow raised, just waiting for her prince to come over and introduce himself.
It seemed that everything that Nana had hoped of this trip would come to her sooner than imagined. How she was happy to be right here, right now, in this moment.
To say that Nana was happy to be on land would be an understatement. Though the Leventi seemed to have a better hold of her stomach than her mother, who seemed to be heaving over the side of the ship more than she wasn't, the constant crashing of waves against the ship left Nana nauseous enough for an entire lifetime. Though seeing new sights and reuniting with her eldest sister was all very nice, Nana was most happy to sleep in a real bed on a real floor that did not rock back and forth. Far too exhausted to even think of sneaking off on her own to explore the potential nightlife of Midas, Nana was quick to drift into the land of slumber after sinking into her bed, postponing her reunion with her dearest Pia.
Yet, it seemed it would have to wait, for the very next day, a feast was to be held. Though she had been anxious for weeks to see her sister, and to meet the child that had made her an aunt, Nana had never been one to decline an invitation to a social event, especially one with young, available princes. Pia could wait just a little longer, surely.
Not having expected the death of the former King of Colchis, Nana had no mourning in the vast expanse of silks she'd brought with her for the trip, though that which she had back home was a small number in comparison to her expansive collection, acquired after the death of her former king. Yet, it didn't seem quite appropriate to Nana to wear black anyway, seeing as she had never before set foot in Colchis, let alone correspond with its king. So, she settled for the darkest that she had brought with her: a midnight purple silk trimmed with silver thread. Though the young blonde usually opted for gold jewelry, she would never be caught clashing, so she instead wore simple (at least, for her) silver cuffs on each wrist, a silver chain that held her favourite amethyst pendant at her chest, and silver fibulae with a great deal of delicate embellishment. A rather common look for her, the Leventi opted to pull the tresses framing her face back to pin them in place at the back of her head with amethyst-laden pins, the rest of her hair left to do as it would.
At learning that the feast was to be held at the Dikastirio rather than the palati was perplexing to the Taengean noble. Even more so was to learn that there was no palati to be found in the city of Midas. If being told that Colchians were barbaric throughout her years at court didn't convince the girl, this fact confirmed what a strange group these Colchians were to her. Who wouldn't want a palati? The one in Vasiliadon was a marvel to behold! Surely there was space enough for one to be built? The thought could not occur to her that perhaps Colchians preferred it that way, it seemed the only possibility was that they held out as some form of asceticism. There was absolutely no other answer.
Yet, any disappointment the Taengean might have found with the venue was made up for with the opportunity that she had held out for since she had started courting: the chance to land a prince. Yes, Nana was not all too pleased with the prospect of spending the rest of her life in Colchis, as it seemed nothing like the lush, rolling hills and serene beaches of her homeland, but certain things were more important than that. Namely, becoming a princess.
As she entered the Dikastirio, Nana noted that she recognized absolutely nobody, which was predictable, yet she did not find herself prepared to be at a court event at which the only person she knew was her mother. Considering her status as an outsider, and that her mother would likely panic if she ran off at such an important event, Nana stuck to her mother's side, following behind her like a good daughter and setting her attention on looking about the room for any sign of a familiar face, nodding her head vaguely as her mother spoke to the occasional lord, but not chiming in with her usual self-centered drivel.
When her sister appeared from the crowd, dressed in the same deep hue that both Nana and her mother had donned, Nana let a quiet sigh escape her lips, forcing a small court smile on her face, but not bothering to say any more than a simple, "Wonderful to see you as always, Selene." Nana would leave the rest of that conversation to Evelli. She was the one who enjoyed the Selene's company, after all. For Nana, the girl's presence acted more as a reminder of everything that she was not, which very clearly didn't sit well with her. Why would she actively seek out the company of one who made her feel like a burden? It seemed like rather thankless endeavour to the fourth of Evelli's daughters. Besides, Nana did not travel across the sea to see Selene. She had come for Pia, and she would certainly show a much greater deal of excitement at reuniting with her Sweet Pea.
As quickly as her gaze had moved to her sister, it just as quickly flitted back to her surroundings, taking in the surroundings of this foreign yet familiar occasion. And it was at this time, during a survey of those in attendance, that Nana found herself meeting the piercing blue gaze of a man she'd certainly never seen before. After a brief moment of bewilderment where she most definitely looked frozen in shock, her eyes quickly looked for any other subject to fix themselves upon. At first, she reassured herself that the man in question was only looking around. Or, perhaps not? This was her first appearance in Colchian court. Perhaps he was intrigued, or like many others before him, transfixed by her Leventi beauty. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that she'd had eyes on her.
Another glance in the man's direction gave the girl an answer to the question she'd been debating in her head, as once again, the two locked eyes, and yet again, Nana found herself quickly looking away. So, he was transfixed. And perhaps, so was she. His face was strikingly similar to that of the now King Vangelis. It would not be a far cry at all to think that perhaps, this man was one of the princes she'd had her hopes set on? Nana had to bite her lip to try and suppress the sudden excitement that threatened to show itself on her face. She needed to stay calm, elegant, refined. Men liked refinement, after all.
Yet, she couldn't keep herself from glancing up in his direction once more, and yet again meeting his gaze. Perhaps this time she had been a bit better prepared for it, though, as she didn't immediately look away like some shrinking violet. Instead, she held his gaze, staring at him with a Nana amount of intensity, an eyebrow raised, just waiting for her prince to come over and introduce himself.
It seemed that everything that Nana had hoped of this trip would come to her sooner than imagined. How she was happy to be right here, right now, in this moment.
Normally Imeeya would jump at any opportunity to go to a court event. Court was where the people were, the politics were and it was a place that Imeeya had excelled. Everything that Imeeya had been educated in her entire life prepared her to go to an event like this. She had been away for so long, she would have expected to be eager to have the time to meet up with all the other nobles that she had not spoken with ages and to catch up on the gossip floating around the court. And yet, Imeeya found that she was dreading it. Perhaps it was the unexpected death of the king, that had cast such a pall over everything since they had returned. Her uncle had been a man who seemed so strong and eternal. It seemed inconceivable that he would have died at sea. Or perhaps, and she hated to admit it, even to herself, it was that she had screwed things up so badly at the last court event she had been at. Or at least, if Vangelis was to be believed, and there was no reason not to believe so. Even his prejudice against the Egyptians wouldn’t lead Vangelis to be preparing for war if it wasn’t clear that there was one on the horizon.
So Imeeya found herself dressing for the event with her usual attention to detail, but with none of her usual enthusiasm. She pulled on a chiton in pale blue silk, with embroidery around the hems and neckline in a gold thread. On her neck, she wore an intricate gold necklace, the gold mined in her own province of Dolomesa, and the necklace itself also manufactured there, the gold and silversmiths making their crafts near to where the raw materials were found. Imeeya pulled her hair back away from her face so that it was gathered on the back of her head. A blue-ribbon of the same color as the chiton held the hair back from her face.
Imeeya met her mother and sister at the door and all three of them climbed into the carriage to leave. It was a big event, not only the first one over which Vangelis was presiding as king, although as yet uncoronated, but also to make a proper welcome for Lady Evelli and Lady Nana of Leventi. If nothing else, Imeeya would be interested to hear the news from Taengea in the wake of the disappearance of their king and queen. In the carriage, she made small talk with her mother and her sister. If her mother noticed her lack of enthusiasm for the event, she was at least polite enough not to mention it along the way. Instead, much of the conversation was focused on reassuring Essa about the upcoming event. “Perhaps you should take the opportunity to meet Nana of Leventi and make some friends from abroad. I think she would be much to your liking.” In truth, what little interaction Imeeya had had with Nana not given her the best impression, yet Imeeya was not lying to her younger sister. She hoped the Leventi woman’s enthusiasm might help draw Essa out of her shell and involve her in places where Essa might normally be too shy to interject herself. However, that would require Essa to take the initiative to be introduced to Nana in the first place.
The three Drakos women arrived at court to find many people had already arrived. Imeeya knew it was a calculated act on her mother’s part to make sure that their entrance was observed. It never hurt to have all eyes on you. Especially, and she suspected this was her mother’s true purpose, when one was a young woman in need of a husband. Imeeya had no intention of playing into her mother’s game, nor did she plan to worry about it overmuch. She had her own agenda and she did not intend to let her mother’s attempts at matchmaking interfere with how she wished to live her life.
As Imeeya entered, she scanned the room for her cousin, Princess Athanasia. Normally, Asia was the one who Imeeya could count on to make events such as these entertaining, yet she didn’t appear to have arrived yet. Perhaps that shouldn’t have been surprising, she knew that Asia had been busy helping to prepare the feast. Not to mention, she was sure it must be hard to find oneself in the public eye so soon after your father’s death. Not that Imeeya knew for sure, she had been barely old enough to remember her own father’s death, and she was still not old enough to attend court when her uncle, and second father figure, had died. But now was not the time to think of such sad things.
Imeeya instead spotted the Leventi women who seemed to be clustered together, instead of being properly introduced to any Colchians. “Come on Essa, let me introduce you,” Imeeya said to her sister, the pair of them leaving Tythra to her own devices as they went over to the Leventis. Imeeya smiled as she greeted the women. “Lady Evelli, Lady Selene, Lady Nana. Let me introduce you to my younger sister, Lady Essa,” she nudged her sister forward so that she might introduce herself. “I hope that you had a pleasant journey,” Imeeya said, attempting to make the pleasant small talk necessary to set their foreign visitors at ease.
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Normally Imeeya would jump at any opportunity to go to a court event. Court was where the people were, the politics were and it was a place that Imeeya had excelled. Everything that Imeeya had been educated in her entire life prepared her to go to an event like this. She had been away for so long, she would have expected to be eager to have the time to meet up with all the other nobles that she had not spoken with ages and to catch up on the gossip floating around the court. And yet, Imeeya found that she was dreading it. Perhaps it was the unexpected death of the king, that had cast such a pall over everything since they had returned. Her uncle had been a man who seemed so strong and eternal. It seemed inconceivable that he would have died at sea. Or perhaps, and she hated to admit it, even to herself, it was that she had screwed things up so badly at the last court event she had been at. Or at least, if Vangelis was to be believed, and there was no reason not to believe so. Even his prejudice against the Egyptians wouldn’t lead Vangelis to be preparing for war if it wasn’t clear that there was one on the horizon.
So Imeeya found herself dressing for the event with her usual attention to detail, but with none of her usual enthusiasm. She pulled on a chiton in pale blue silk, with embroidery around the hems and neckline in a gold thread. On her neck, she wore an intricate gold necklace, the gold mined in her own province of Dolomesa, and the necklace itself also manufactured there, the gold and silversmiths making their crafts near to where the raw materials were found. Imeeya pulled her hair back away from her face so that it was gathered on the back of her head. A blue-ribbon of the same color as the chiton held the hair back from her face.
Imeeya met her mother and sister at the door and all three of them climbed into the carriage to leave. It was a big event, not only the first one over which Vangelis was presiding as king, although as yet uncoronated, but also to make a proper welcome for Lady Evelli and Lady Nana of Leventi. If nothing else, Imeeya would be interested to hear the news from Taengea in the wake of the disappearance of their king and queen. In the carriage, she made small talk with her mother and her sister. If her mother noticed her lack of enthusiasm for the event, she was at least polite enough not to mention it along the way. Instead, much of the conversation was focused on reassuring Essa about the upcoming event. “Perhaps you should take the opportunity to meet Nana of Leventi and make some friends from abroad. I think she would be much to your liking.” In truth, what little interaction Imeeya had had with Nana not given her the best impression, yet Imeeya was not lying to her younger sister. She hoped the Leventi woman’s enthusiasm might help draw Essa out of her shell and involve her in places where Essa might normally be too shy to interject herself. However, that would require Essa to take the initiative to be introduced to Nana in the first place.
The three Drakos women arrived at court to find many people had already arrived. Imeeya knew it was a calculated act on her mother’s part to make sure that their entrance was observed. It never hurt to have all eyes on you. Especially, and she suspected this was her mother’s true purpose, when one was a young woman in need of a husband. Imeeya had no intention of playing into her mother’s game, nor did she plan to worry about it overmuch. She had her own agenda and she did not intend to let her mother’s attempts at matchmaking interfere with how she wished to live her life.
As Imeeya entered, she scanned the room for her cousin, Princess Athanasia. Normally, Asia was the one who Imeeya could count on to make events such as these entertaining, yet she didn’t appear to have arrived yet. Perhaps that shouldn’t have been surprising, she knew that Asia had been busy helping to prepare the feast. Not to mention, she was sure it must be hard to find oneself in the public eye so soon after your father’s death. Not that Imeeya knew for sure, she had been barely old enough to remember her own father’s death, and she was still not old enough to attend court when her uncle, and second father figure, had died. But now was not the time to think of such sad things.
Imeeya instead spotted the Leventi women who seemed to be clustered together, instead of being properly introduced to any Colchians. “Come on Essa, let me introduce you,” Imeeya said to her sister, the pair of them leaving Tythra to her own devices as they went over to the Leventis. Imeeya smiled as she greeted the women. “Lady Evelli, Lady Selene, Lady Nana. Let me introduce you to my younger sister, Lady Essa,” she nudged her sister forward so that she might introduce herself. “I hope that you had a pleasant journey,” Imeeya said, attempting to make the pleasant small talk necessary to set their foreign visitors at ease.
Normally Imeeya would jump at any opportunity to go to a court event. Court was where the people were, the politics were and it was a place that Imeeya had excelled. Everything that Imeeya had been educated in her entire life prepared her to go to an event like this. She had been away for so long, she would have expected to be eager to have the time to meet up with all the other nobles that she had not spoken with ages and to catch up on the gossip floating around the court. And yet, Imeeya found that she was dreading it. Perhaps it was the unexpected death of the king, that had cast such a pall over everything since they had returned. Her uncle had been a man who seemed so strong and eternal. It seemed inconceivable that he would have died at sea. Or perhaps, and she hated to admit it, even to herself, it was that she had screwed things up so badly at the last court event she had been at. Or at least, if Vangelis was to be believed, and there was no reason not to believe so. Even his prejudice against the Egyptians wouldn’t lead Vangelis to be preparing for war if it wasn’t clear that there was one on the horizon.
So Imeeya found herself dressing for the event with her usual attention to detail, but with none of her usual enthusiasm. She pulled on a chiton in pale blue silk, with embroidery around the hems and neckline in a gold thread. On her neck, she wore an intricate gold necklace, the gold mined in her own province of Dolomesa, and the necklace itself also manufactured there, the gold and silversmiths making their crafts near to where the raw materials were found. Imeeya pulled her hair back away from her face so that it was gathered on the back of her head. A blue-ribbon of the same color as the chiton held the hair back from her face.
Imeeya met her mother and sister at the door and all three of them climbed into the carriage to leave. It was a big event, not only the first one over which Vangelis was presiding as king, although as yet uncoronated, but also to make a proper welcome for Lady Evelli and Lady Nana of Leventi. If nothing else, Imeeya would be interested to hear the news from Taengea in the wake of the disappearance of their king and queen. In the carriage, she made small talk with her mother and her sister. If her mother noticed her lack of enthusiasm for the event, she was at least polite enough not to mention it along the way. Instead, much of the conversation was focused on reassuring Essa about the upcoming event. “Perhaps you should take the opportunity to meet Nana of Leventi and make some friends from abroad. I think she would be much to your liking.” In truth, what little interaction Imeeya had had with Nana not given her the best impression, yet Imeeya was not lying to her younger sister. She hoped the Leventi woman’s enthusiasm might help draw Essa out of her shell and involve her in places where Essa might normally be too shy to interject herself. However, that would require Essa to take the initiative to be introduced to Nana in the first place.
The three Drakos women arrived at court to find many people had already arrived. Imeeya knew it was a calculated act on her mother’s part to make sure that their entrance was observed. It never hurt to have all eyes on you. Especially, and she suspected this was her mother’s true purpose, when one was a young woman in need of a husband. Imeeya had no intention of playing into her mother’s game, nor did she plan to worry about it overmuch. She had her own agenda and she did not intend to let her mother’s attempts at matchmaking interfere with how she wished to live her life.
As Imeeya entered, she scanned the room for her cousin, Princess Athanasia. Normally, Asia was the one who Imeeya could count on to make events such as these entertaining, yet she didn’t appear to have arrived yet. Perhaps that shouldn’t have been surprising, she knew that Asia had been busy helping to prepare the feast. Not to mention, she was sure it must be hard to find oneself in the public eye so soon after your father’s death. Not that Imeeya knew for sure, she had been barely old enough to remember her own father’s death, and she was still not old enough to attend court when her uncle, and second father figure, had died. But now was not the time to think of such sad things.
Imeeya instead spotted the Leventi women who seemed to be clustered together, instead of being properly introduced to any Colchians. “Come on Essa, let me introduce you,” Imeeya said to her sister, the pair of them leaving Tythra to her own devices as they went over to the Leventis. Imeeya smiled as she greeted the women. “Lady Evelli, Lady Selene, Lady Nana. Let me introduce you to my younger sister, Lady Essa,” she nudged her sister forward so that she might introduce herself. “I hope that you had a pleasant journey,” Imeeya said, attempting to make the pleasant small talk necessary to set their foreign visitors at ease.
Athanasia had wanted nothing to do with the feast planned for the nobles of Colchis. She had wanted nothing to do with anybody or anything, wishing only time alone to grieve for the father who would never know how much she loved and appreciated him. The last thing she had said to him had been sarcastic, having something to do with an incident in which she had not behaved like a proper princess. Her final words to him should have stuck out in her mind, but she could barely remember them. She did, however, remember the way he had shaken his head and furrowed his brows as he looked at her. Why couldn't she have made him smile instead?
She had more regrets than she could count and she fully intended to make certain that her time with her mother didn't end the same way. In public, she would be gracious and decorous and try her best to hold her tongue when an acerbic comment hovered upon her lips. It wasn't going to be easy, but she would accomplish it somehow. At home with her family, she could just be herself, and she didn't plan to stop escaping into the city and pretending to be a commoner.
The young princess spent the first three days after Vangelis had become King in self-enforced solitude in her rooms, finally shedding the tears that she'd had to hold back for so long. She felt as if an entire ocean had streamed from her eyes, yet her room was not flooded. Only her pillow was soaked and her attendants has quickly replaced it. She took meals in her rooms when she could, too depressed to socialize with her family and guests.
Her mother had apparently noticed and had insisted that she help her sister-in-law plan the feast Athanasia wanted no part of. She had been a bit sullen at first, but Evras was kind and understanding. It wasn't long before she was actually looking forward to it, if only just to see all their preparations come to fruition. If there was more to it than that, she refused to admit it, but she did hope that maybe the feast would bring at least a semblance of closure so that she could move on with her life and be more supportive of the rest of her family.
It was the hope of a new beginning that inspired the princess to ignore the dark colors of mourning in favor of a blue and pink shot silk chiton bordered with gold embroidery in floral designs, one of the last gifts she had received from her father. As her retainers dressed her, she watched the way the fabric seemed to change color from pink to blue to purple with each move she made. It was fastened at the shoulders and along one arm with fibulae consisting of opals in gold filigree.
A matching himation also embroidered in the same design had been sewn with long stitches several inches below half of the top edge and gathered to form a ruffle. This was placed under her arm on the side of the chiton that had been pinned. The other half was pinned along her bare arm with the matching gold and opal fibulae. The himation flowed nearly to her knees and ended in asymmetric points, adding another layer to her gown.
Not wanting to sit forever to have her hair painstakingly curled, Athanasia instructed her attendants to braid strands of instead and weave them through with opalescent ribbons. The braids were then arranged in a complicated lattice style on the sides and back of her head. The rest of her thick auburn-gold tresses were left to flow loose down her back. She wore long strands of opals around her neck, dangling opal earrings, and a gold and opal tiara upon her head.
As she stepped into the room, she hoped to blend into the crowd, but she was immediately recognized as the only princess of Kotas. People bowed to her as she passed by them, and some of them engaged her in conversation, offering condolences on her loss and praising their new King. Athanasia tried her best to engage in small talk but she found it completely uninteresting and was afraid she would put her foot in her mouth as she usually did. At least when she was standing still, she didn't have to worry about tripping over her hem.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Athanasia had wanted nothing to do with the feast planned for the nobles of Colchis. She had wanted nothing to do with anybody or anything, wishing only time alone to grieve for the father who would never know how much she loved and appreciated him. The last thing she had said to him had been sarcastic, having something to do with an incident in which she had not behaved like a proper princess. Her final words to him should have stuck out in her mind, but she could barely remember them. She did, however, remember the way he had shaken his head and furrowed his brows as he looked at her. Why couldn't she have made him smile instead?
She had more regrets than she could count and she fully intended to make certain that her time with her mother didn't end the same way. In public, she would be gracious and decorous and try her best to hold her tongue when an acerbic comment hovered upon her lips. It wasn't going to be easy, but she would accomplish it somehow. At home with her family, she could just be herself, and she didn't plan to stop escaping into the city and pretending to be a commoner.
The young princess spent the first three days after Vangelis had become King in self-enforced solitude in her rooms, finally shedding the tears that she'd had to hold back for so long. She felt as if an entire ocean had streamed from her eyes, yet her room was not flooded. Only her pillow was soaked and her attendants has quickly replaced it. She took meals in her rooms when she could, too depressed to socialize with her family and guests.
Her mother had apparently noticed and had insisted that she help her sister-in-law plan the feast Athanasia wanted no part of. She had been a bit sullen at first, but Evras was kind and understanding. It wasn't long before she was actually looking forward to it, if only just to see all their preparations come to fruition. If there was more to it than that, she refused to admit it, but she did hope that maybe the feast would bring at least a semblance of closure so that she could move on with her life and be more supportive of the rest of her family.
It was the hope of a new beginning that inspired the princess to ignore the dark colors of mourning in favor of a blue and pink shot silk chiton bordered with gold embroidery in floral designs, one of the last gifts she had received from her father. As her retainers dressed her, she watched the way the fabric seemed to change color from pink to blue to purple with each move she made. It was fastened at the shoulders and along one arm with fibulae consisting of opals in gold filigree.
A matching himation also embroidered in the same design had been sewn with long stitches several inches below half of the top edge and gathered to form a ruffle. This was placed under her arm on the side of the chiton that had been pinned. The other half was pinned along her bare arm with the matching gold and opal fibulae. The himation flowed nearly to her knees and ended in asymmetric points, adding another layer to her gown.
Not wanting to sit forever to have her hair painstakingly curled, Athanasia instructed her attendants to braid strands of instead and weave them through with opalescent ribbons. The braids were then arranged in a complicated lattice style on the sides and back of her head. The rest of her thick auburn-gold tresses were left to flow loose down her back. She wore long strands of opals around her neck, dangling opal earrings, and a gold and opal tiara upon her head.
As she stepped into the room, she hoped to blend into the crowd, but she was immediately recognized as the only princess of Kotas. People bowed to her as she passed by them, and some of them engaged her in conversation, offering condolences on her loss and praising their new King. Athanasia tried her best to engage in small talk but she found it completely uninteresting and was afraid she would put her foot in her mouth as she usually did. At least when she was standing still, she didn't have to worry about tripping over her hem.
Athanasia had wanted nothing to do with the feast planned for the nobles of Colchis. She had wanted nothing to do with anybody or anything, wishing only time alone to grieve for the father who would never know how much she loved and appreciated him. The last thing she had said to him had been sarcastic, having something to do with an incident in which she had not behaved like a proper princess. Her final words to him should have stuck out in her mind, but she could barely remember them. She did, however, remember the way he had shaken his head and furrowed his brows as he looked at her. Why couldn't she have made him smile instead?
She had more regrets than she could count and she fully intended to make certain that her time with her mother didn't end the same way. In public, she would be gracious and decorous and try her best to hold her tongue when an acerbic comment hovered upon her lips. It wasn't going to be easy, but she would accomplish it somehow. At home with her family, she could just be herself, and she didn't plan to stop escaping into the city and pretending to be a commoner.
The young princess spent the first three days after Vangelis had become King in self-enforced solitude in her rooms, finally shedding the tears that she'd had to hold back for so long. She felt as if an entire ocean had streamed from her eyes, yet her room was not flooded. Only her pillow was soaked and her attendants has quickly replaced it. She took meals in her rooms when she could, too depressed to socialize with her family and guests.
Her mother had apparently noticed and had insisted that she help her sister-in-law plan the feast Athanasia wanted no part of. She had been a bit sullen at first, but Evras was kind and understanding. It wasn't long before she was actually looking forward to it, if only just to see all their preparations come to fruition. If there was more to it than that, she refused to admit it, but she did hope that maybe the feast would bring at least a semblance of closure so that she could move on with her life and be more supportive of the rest of her family.
It was the hope of a new beginning that inspired the princess to ignore the dark colors of mourning in favor of a blue and pink shot silk chiton bordered with gold embroidery in floral designs, one of the last gifts she had received from her father. As her retainers dressed her, she watched the way the fabric seemed to change color from pink to blue to purple with each move she made. It was fastened at the shoulders and along one arm with fibulae consisting of opals in gold filigree.
A matching himation also embroidered in the same design had been sewn with long stitches several inches below half of the top edge and gathered to form a ruffle. This was placed under her arm on the side of the chiton that had been pinned. The other half was pinned along her bare arm with the matching gold and opal fibulae. The himation flowed nearly to her knees and ended in asymmetric points, adding another layer to her gown.
Not wanting to sit forever to have her hair painstakingly curled, Athanasia instructed her attendants to braid strands of instead and weave them through with opalescent ribbons. The braids were then arranged in a complicated lattice style on the sides and back of her head. The rest of her thick auburn-gold tresses were left to flow loose down her back. She wore long strands of opals around her neck, dangling opal earrings, and a gold and opal tiara upon her head.
As she stepped into the room, she hoped to blend into the crowd, but she was immediately recognized as the only princess of Kotas. People bowed to her as she passed by them, and some of them engaged her in conversation, offering condolences on her loss and praising their new King. Athanasia tried her best to engage in small talk but she found it completely uninteresting and was afraid she would put her foot in her mouth as she usually did. At least when she was standing still, she didn't have to worry about tripping over her hem.
Thea stood before the looking glass as her handmaiden, Lene, assisted with fastening the intricate silver clasps that seemed to braid an elaborate weave along the manufactured arms of her black silk pelplos. Black was a color that Thea had the fortune of not frequently wearing, much preferring the rich crimsons, burgundies, and mauves that seemed to add a flush of color to her. With the black laying against her skin and no other color to highlight the life in her skin, Thea seemed ghastly pale.
Thank the gods for Lené, who worked meticulously to strategically cover the flaws in Thea's skin - particularly the open and bruised scrapes along her back and the bruises along her shoulders. Thea's hair was coiled in meticulous curls that both draped down her back and then cascaded along the sides of her neck to hide the quickly fading scratches curling down from her hairline.
Thick gold and silver bangles were strategically layered along her lower forearms and stacked slightly up her upper arms, covering the scattered grape-shaped bruises from his hold on her wrists. Powder had been placed over the marks as well, to soften the starkness of their presence on her milk white skin. It was her hope that such powdering would soften the look, as she seemed to be lacking her broader cuffs that would have hidden these bruises more effectively.
Her lips had been stained slightly darker than her usual preference, steering more towards a wine-deep purple than her usual berry red, to cover the deep, blackening spot from the break in the skin.
With Lené's cautious eyes meticulously combing her appearance for any impurity. Yes, she could have gone with a deep-dove grey to soften this appearance, but the last thing she needed for this night was for anyone to question the Thanasi loyalty to the crown. With the drama of the King's ship being discovered within one of their provinces and the existing tension of the past two decades nearly rekindled, Thea knew that falling in line with the expectations of the court would keep eyes from falling too starkly on them. The Thanasi name had been through enough mud so far, and despite her recent actions behind the closed doors of the Kotas estate, it was not exactly evidence to be used in an argument to clear their name.
Thea knew that Nethis always bore a different scheme to push their name further and further to the top, but Thea remained torn on the approach. It was not as if she could tell her sister that in this moment, with her thoughts still filled with the gravity of her proximity to the new monarch, she was not keen on taking part in whatever scheme she had next.
At last, Lené let her hands linger on Thea's skin with a slight pause of affection. Her wide eyes matching the Thanasi's gaze for a brief moment before the noblewoman placed her hand delicately over the young woman's with a silent and tentative promise to return. Yes, Thea's body had been used and ravished in a way that satisfied her beyond words, yet there was still comfort in the presence of one whose touch was so soft and indulgent, like savoring something ever so sweet after a filling meal.
Taking a few steps towards the door, she met with her sister, Nethis briefly before descending the stairs into the entryway of the Thanasi Estate, noting the remaining three Thanasi siblings in conversation and the back of her father's himation passing through the threshold and to the carriage.
Clearly, from the look of scolding on Evras' normally peaceful countenance, the brothers Thanasi had been in some sort of quarrel. The look of scorn on Dysius face as he eyed Mihail in his rather extravagant outfit. Thea's expression was muted, yet grew slightly sharper as she recognized one of her missing cuffs on her brother's arms, and eyes narrowed ever so slightly in annoyance for a moment as she raised a brow.
"We are ready," Thea said simply, responding to Evras but still offering Mihail a slight warning glance that demanded her belongings be returned to her before the night ended. Her eyes also gave a passing glance over Dysius, questioning the scowl on his face and clearing her throat a moment in an attempt to have him adjust his attitude at some point before they arrived at the court session.
After that moment passed, she stepped closer to Evras and extended an arm to take her sister's hand in hers, "I am pleased to see you here, though I had thought you would be at the Crown Prince's side. Still, you are radiant, as always."
It was a comment as well as a question, in Thea's own veiled way. Evras' condition was not entirely known at this point, but a slight squeeze to her hand simply asked for reassurance that her sister felt as well as she looked.
Thea glanced to the doorway to see their father at last settled into the carriage and ready to be delivered to the Dikastirio. There was a slight huff of dread in her breath as she watched the carriage roll away. Without the others knowing, she had attempted to brew him a tea that would keep his nerves at bay and hopefully prevent the anxiety that allowed for his outbursts for the evening. He only consumed half of the tea, despite her urgings which resulted in her dodging the hot liquid being tossed against a wall. If it worked, the evening would go well.
If it did not...well, then she would resort to something just shy of keeping her hand placed over his mouth for the evening.
"Shall we?" Thea said at last, looking to her eldest sister for a sense of finality. Despite all of them being adults in their own right, there was no doubt the reign that the eldest Thanasi had over the brood.
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Thea stood before the looking glass as her handmaiden, Lene, assisted with fastening the intricate silver clasps that seemed to braid an elaborate weave along the manufactured arms of her black silk pelplos. Black was a color that Thea had the fortune of not frequently wearing, much preferring the rich crimsons, burgundies, and mauves that seemed to add a flush of color to her. With the black laying against her skin and no other color to highlight the life in her skin, Thea seemed ghastly pale.
Thank the gods for Lené, who worked meticulously to strategically cover the flaws in Thea's skin - particularly the open and bruised scrapes along her back and the bruises along her shoulders. Thea's hair was coiled in meticulous curls that both draped down her back and then cascaded along the sides of her neck to hide the quickly fading scratches curling down from her hairline.
Thick gold and silver bangles were strategically layered along her lower forearms and stacked slightly up her upper arms, covering the scattered grape-shaped bruises from his hold on her wrists. Powder had been placed over the marks as well, to soften the starkness of their presence on her milk white skin. It was her hope that such powdering would soften the look, as she seemed to be lacking her broader cuffs that would have hidden these bruises more effectively.
Her lips had been stained slightly darker than her usual preference, steering more towards a wine-deep purple than her usual berry red, to cover the deep, blackening spot from the break in the skin.
With Lené's cautious eyes meticulously combing her appearance for any impurity. Yes, she could have gone with a deep-dove grey to soften this appearance, but the last thing she needed for this night was for anyone to question the Thanasi loyalty to the crown. With the drama of the King's ship being discovered within one of their provinces and the existing tension of the past two decades nearly rekindled, Thea knew that falling in line with the expectations of the court would keep eyes from falling too starkly on them. The Thanasi name had been through enough mud so far, and despite her recent actions behind the closed doors of the Kotas estate, it was not exactly evidence to be used in an argument to clear their name.
Thea knew that Nethis always bore a different scheme to push their name further and further to the top, but Thea remained torn on the approach. It was not as if she could tell her sister that in this moment, with her thoughts still filled with the gravity of her proximity to the new monarch, she was not keen on taking part in whatever scheme she had next.
At last, Lené let her hands linger on Thea's skin with a slight pause of affection. Her wide eyes matching the Thanasi's gaze for a brief moment before the noblewoman placed her hand delicately over the young woman's with a silent and tentative promise to return. Yes, Thea's body had been used and ravished in a way that satisfied her beyond words, yet there was still comfort in the presence of one whose touch was so soft and indulgent, like savoring something ever so sweet after a filling meal.
Taking a few steps towards the door, she met with her sister, Nethis briefly before descending the stairs into the entryway of the Thanasi Estate, noting the remaining three Thanasi siblings in conversation and the back of her father's himation passing through the threshold and to the carriage.
Clearly, from the look of scolding on Evras' normally peaceful countenance, the brothers Thanasi had been in some sort of quarrel. The look of scorn on Dysius face as he eyed Mihail in his rather extravagant outfit. Thea's expression was muted, yet grew slightly sharper as she recognized one of her missing cuffs on her brother's arms, and eyes narrowed ever so slightly in annoyance for a moment as she raised a brow.
"We are ready," Thea said simply, responding to Evras but still offering Mihail a slight warning glance that demanded her belongings be returned to her before the night ended. Her eyes also gave a passing glance over Dysius, questioning the scowl on his face and clearing her throat a moment in an attempt to have him adjust his attitude at some point before they arrived at the court session.
After that moment passed, she stepped closer to Evras and extended an arm to take her sister's hand in hers, "I am pleased to see you here, though I had thought you would be at the Crown Prince's side. Still, you are radiant, as always."
It was a comment as well as a question, in Thea's own veiled way. Evras' condition was not entirely known at this point, but a slight squeeze to her hand simply asked for reassurance that her sister felt as well as she looked.
Thea glanced to the doorway to see their father at last settled into the carriage and ready to be delivered to the Dikastirio. There was a slight huff of dread in her breath as she watched the carriage roll away. Without the others knowing, she had attempted to brew him a tea that would keep his nerves at bay and hopefully prevent the anxiety that allowed for his outbursts for the evening. He only consumed half of the tea, despite her urgings which resulted in her dodging the hot liquid being tossed against a wall. If it worked, the evening would go well.
If it did not...well, then she would resort to something just shy of keeping her hand placed over his mouth for the evening.
"Shall we?" Thea said at last, looking to her eldest sister for a sense of finality. Despite all of them being adults in their own right, there was no doubt the reign that the eldest Thanasi had over the brood.
Thea stood before the looking glass as her handmaiden, Lene, assisted with fastening the intricate silver clasps that seemed to braid an elaborate weave along the manufactured arms of her black silk pelplos. Black was a color that Thea had the fortune of not frequently wearing, much preferring the rich crimsons, burgundies, and mauves that seemed to add a flush of color to her. With the black laying against her skin and no other color to highlight the life in her skin, Thea seemed ghastly pale.
Thank the gods for Lené, who worked meticulously to strategically cover the flaws in Thea's skin - particularly the open and bruised scrapes along her back and the bruises along her shoulders. Thea's hair was coiled in meticulous curls that both draped down her back and then cascaded along the sides of her neck to hide the quickly fading scratches curling down from her hairline.
Thick gold and silver bangles were strategically layered along her lower forearms and stacked slightly up her upper arms, covering the scattered grape-shaped bruises from his hold on her wrists. Powder had been placed over the marks as well, to soften the starkness of their presence on her milk white skin. It was her hope that such powdering would soften the look, as she seemed to be lacking her broader cuffs that would have hidden these bruises more effectively.
Her lips had been stained slightly darker than her usual preference, steering more towards a wine-deep purple than her usual berry red, to cover the deep, blackening spot from the break in the skin.
With Lené's cautious eyes meticulously combing her appearance for any impurity. Yes, she could have gone with a deep-dove grey to soften this appearance, but the last thing she needed for this night was for anyone to question the Thanasi loyalty to the crown. With the drama of the King's ship being discovered within one of their provinces and the existing tension of the past two decades nearly rekindled, Thea knew that falling in line with the expectations of the court would keep eyes from falling too starkly on them. The Thanasi name had been through enough mud so far, and despite her recent actions behind the closed doors of the Kotas estate, it was not exactly evidence to be used in an argument to clear their name.
Thea knew that Nethis always bore a different scheme to push their name further and further to the top, but Thea remained torn on the approach. It was not as if she could tell her sister that in this moment, with her thoughts still filled with the gravity of her proximity to the new monarch, she was not keen on taking part in whatever scheme she had next.
At last, Lené let her hands linger on Thea's skin with a slight pause of affection. Her wide eyes matching the Thanasi's gaze for a brief moment before the noblewoman placed her hand delicately over the young woman's with a silent and tentative promise to return. Yes, Thea's body had been used and ravished in a way that satisfied her beyond words, yet there was still comfort in the presence of one whose touch was so soft and indulgent, like savoring something ever so sweet after a filling meal.
Taking a few steps towards the door, she met with her sister, Nethis briefly before descending the stairs into the entryway of the Thanasi Estate, noting the remaining three Thanasi siblings in conversation and the back of her father's himation passing through the threshold and to the carriage.
Clearly, from the look of scolding on Evras' normally peaceful countenance, the brothers Thanasi had been in some sort of quarrel. The look of scorn on Dysius face as he eyed Mihail in his rather extravagant outfit. Thea's expression was muted, yet grew slightly sharper as she recognized one of her missing cuffs on her brother's arms, and eyes narrowed ever so slightly in annoyance for a moment as she raised a brow.
"We are ready," Thea said simply, responding to Evras but still offering Mihail a slight warning glance that demanded her belongings be returned to her before the night ended. Her eyes also gave a passing glance over Dysius, questioning the scowl on his face and clearing her throat a moment in an attempt to have him adjust his attitude at some point before they arrived at the court session.
After that moment passed, she stepped closer to Evras and extended an arm to take her sister's hand in hers, "I am pleased to see you here, though I had thought you would be at the Crown Prince's side. Still, you are radiant, as always."
It was a comment as well as a question, in Thea's own veiled way. Evras' condition was not entirely known at this point, but a slight squeeze to her hand simply asked for reassurance that her sister felt as well as she looked.
Thea glanced to the doorway to see their father at last settled into the carriage and ready to be delivered to the Dikastirio. There was a slight huff of dread in her breath as she watched the carriage roll away. Without the others knowing, she had attempted to brew him a tea that would keep his nerves at bay and hopefully prevent the anxiety that allowed for his outbursts for the evening. He only consumed half of the tea, despite her urgings which resulted in her dodging the hot liquid being tossed against a wall. If it worked, the evening would go well.
If it did not...well, then she would resort to something just shy of keeping her hand placed over his mouth for the evening.
"Shall we?" Thea said at last, looking to her eldest sister for a sense of finality. Despite all of them being adults in their own right, there was no doubt the reign that the eldest Thanasi had over the brood.
Attending court without Magnus simply felt wrong.
Despite the reprieve of being in the company of Lady Iolanthe, wearing the dove-grey formal dress that the noblewoman had gifted her during her stay in Arcanaes, there was a slight melancholy air that seemed to cling to Leto as she entered at the lady's side.
It was not exactly doubt that plagued her in this moment - with Iolanthe's kindness in coaching her through interactions with nobles and the finest points in manners to be used at court, she did not dread it as much anymore. Instead, it was a sort of loneliness that stuck to her.
When Magnus did not arrive with the now-King Vangelis' party at the docks, worry had swamped her, despite being informed that her brother had merely been instructed to remain behind to perform his duties as Master Informer. Careful questioning when fielding some of her brother's special 'visitors' at their home kept her slightly abreast of what was happening in higher society, as well as the implications and rumors that spread to lower society.
So much had happened in such a short amount of time, it was overwhelming for anyone to consider. The violent death of an old king, the shock of informing the new king, and now the arrival of certain 'special visitors' from Taengea left the room humming with a rather tedious flutter of conversation.
At Lady Iolanthe's side, Leto smiled demurely and greeted some of the young noblewoman's compatriots, offering appropriate idle talk in a lighter tone than her natural speaking voice - a more feminine, dignified manner of speaking that seemed to impress the few she spoke with. It grated on her a bit, that other nobles could be impressed by the simple fact that someone of her birth could manage to speak in a genteel manner - like being impressed that a dog could sit when offered a treat.
After a short while of socializing, Leto spotted not one, but two familiar faces among the crowd and did her best to keep her expression from shifting enough to let Lady Iolanthe on to it. However, she did politely excuse herself as she crossed the room, grinning slightly as she knew she would approach Captain Maleos of Eubocris just enough from behind for him not to see her coming.
"We meet again, Captain," Leto crooned, her voice settling back into a more familiar register, and she attempted to supress her grin from being over broad. In a slightly more hushed tone, she added, "It would be a lie if I said I did not find some relief in you being here. It brings me comfort, in a sense, to know someone in such a place."
With that being said, she let her eyes wander a bit so as not to stare at the soldier's face too long. When they did, they fell once again on Lord Silanos of Valalortis, a man that she had met under conditions that would not shine a fair light on either of them. Her options, she decided, were to either avoid him at all cost to keep from questions arising, or if interaction was unavoidable, to prepare a completely feigned introduction.
For now, she was quite satisfied to simply see the back of his head instead.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Attending court without Magnus simply felt wrong.
Despite the reprieve of being in the company of Lady Iolanthe, wearing the dove-grey formal dress that the noblewoman had gifted her during her stay in Arcanaes, there was a slight melancholy air that seemed to cling to Leto as she entered at the lady's side.
It was not exactly doubt that plagued her in this moment - with Iolanthe's kindness in coaching her through interactions with nobles and the finest points in manners to be used at court, she did not dread it as much anymore. Instead, it was a sort of loneliness that stuck to her.
When Magnus did not arrive with the now-King Vangelis' party at the docks, worry had swamped her, despite being informed that her brother had merely been instructed to remain behind to perform his duties as Master Informer. Careful questioning when fielding some of her brother's special 'visitors' at their home kept her slightly abreast of what was happening in higher society, as well as the implications and rumors that spread to lower society.
So much had happened in such a short amount of time, it was overwhelming for anyone to consider. The violent death of an old king, the shock of informing the new king, and now the arrival of certain 'special visitors' from Taengea left the room humming with a rather tedious flutter of conversation.
At Lady Iolanthe's side, Leto smiled demurely and greeted some of the young noblewoman's compatriots, offering appropriate idle talk in a lighter tone than her natural speaking voice - a more feminine, dignified manner of speaking that seemed to impress the few she spoke with. It grated on her a bit, that other nobles could be impressed by the simple fact that someone of her birth could manage to speak in a genteel manner - like being impressed that a dog could sit when offered a treat.
After a short while of socializing, Leto spotted not one, but two familiar faces among the crowd and did her best to keep her expression from shifting enough to let Lady Iolanthe on to it. However, she did politely excuse herself as she crossed the room, grinning slightly as she knew she would approach Captain Maleos of Eubocris just enough from behind for him not to see her coming.
"We meet again, Captain," Leto crooned, her voice settling back into a more familiar register, and she attempted to supress her grin from being over broad. In a slightly more hushed tone, she added, "It would be a lie if I said I did not find some relief in you being here. It brings me comfort, in a sense, to know someone in such a place."
With that being said, she let her eyes wander a bit so as not to stare at the soldier's face too long. When they did, they fell once again on Lord Silanos of Valalortis, a man that she had met under conditions that would not shine a fair light on either of them. Her options, she decided, were to either avoid him at all cost to keep from questions arising, or if interaction was unavoidable, to prepare a completely feigned introduction.
For now, she was quite satisfied to simply see the back of his head instead.
Attending court without Magnus simply felt wrong.
Despite the reprieve of being in the company of Lady Iolanthe, wearing the dove-grey formal dress that the noblewoman had gifted her during her stay in Arcanaes, there was a slight melancholy air that seemed to cling to Leto as she entered at the lady's side.
It was not exactly doubt that plagued her in this moment - with Iolanthe's kindness in coaching her through interactions with nobles and the finest points in manners to be used at court, she did not dread it as much anymore. Instead, it was a sort of loneliness that stuck to her.
When Magnus did not arrive with the now-King Vangelis' party at the docks, worry had swamped her, despite being informed that her brother had merely been instructed to remain behind to perform his duties as Master Informer. Careful questioning when fielding some of her brother's special 'visitors' at their home kept her slightly abreast of what was happening in higher society, as well as the implications and rumors that spread to lower society.
So much had happened in such a short amount of time, it was overwhelming for anyone to consider. The violent death of an old king, the shock of informing the new king, and now the arrival of certain 'special visitors' from Taengea left the room humming with a rather tedious flutter of conversation.
At Lady Iolanthe's side, Leto smiled demurely and greeted some of the young noblewoman's compatriots, offering appropriate idle talk in a lighter tone than her natural speaking voice - a more feminine, dignified manner of speaking that seemed to impress the few she spoke with. It grated on her a bit, that other nobles could be impressed by the simple fact that someone of her birth could manage to speak in a genteel manner - like being impressed that a dog could sit when offered a treat.
After a short while of socializing, Leto spotted not one, but two familiar faces among the crowd and did her best to keep her expression from shifting enough to let Lady Iolanthe on to it. However, she did politely excuse herself as she crossed the room, grinning slightly as she knew she would approach Captain Maleos of Eubocris just enough from behind for him not to see her coming.
"We meet again, Captain," Leto crooned, her voice settling back into a more familiar register, and she attempted to supress her grin from being over broad. In a slightly more hushed tone, she added, "It would be a lie if I said I did not find some relief in you being here. It brings me comfort, in a sense, to know someone in such a place."
With that being said, she let her eyes wander a bit so as not to stare at the soldier's face too long. When they did, they fell once again on Lord Silanos of Valalortis, a man that she had met under conditions that would not shine a fair light on either of them. Her options, she decided, were to either avoid him at all cost to keep from questions arising, or if interaction was unavoidable, to prepare a completely feigned introduction.
For now, she was quite satisfied to simply see the back of his head instead.
The news that Magnus had not returned with the new King Vangelis had hurt, on top of the mourning the entire kingdom was put through she now had to mourn privately in her own way. It had been her hope that Magnus would come home with the prince turned king and his entourage, but it seemed that instead of her lover returning and taking her offer of marriage, he had sent in his place a set of deposed rulers. In preparing for the event, Iolanthe took extra care with her appearance. If he took his time in coming home and seemingly had no true desire to spend his life with her, she could not wait for him any longer. Her brother was in a bad way, and in order to keep her family line alive she had to marry and produce heirs as quickly as possible. There was no more time for waiting.
Her hair was curled and left mostly hanging down her back, showing off the length and thick shine of the deep brown waves. the front part was swept up and twined into an intricate crown of braids that wove around a gold circlet with a Peisistratos amethyst set in the front. Her chiton was a deep plum that was nearly black and set her pale skin glowing in comparison, a golden belt emphasizing the slightness of her waist and matching bands set on her wrists. Though she rarely applied face paint, she darkened her lips slightly and gave her cheeks a pink tinge for maximum effort.
Joining Leto before they made their entrance, Iolanthe smiled fondly at the younger woman, a sense of pride filling her chest at the sight of her protege. Magnus' sister had his cleverness, but also a subtle beauty that could easily be used to her advantage if she just had more practice putting it in place. Looping their arms together, their entrance had more than a few eyes pulled in their direction, and Io had to remind herself they were still in mourning to not preen at the attention. She allowed Leto to take the lead as they moved about, when the other woman broke off she followed her movements with a watchful gaze, a glass of wine in her hand as she kept an eye on her charge. It would be a night of interesting events that was to be sure.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The news that Magnus had not returned with the new King Vangelis had hurt, on top of the mourning the entire kingdom was put through she now had to mourn privately in her own way. It had been her hope that Magnus would come home with the prince turned king and his entourage, but it seemed that instead of her lover returning and taking her offer of marriage, he had sent in his place a set of deposed rulers. In preparing for the event, Iolanthe took extra care with her appearance. If he took his time in coming home and seemingly had no true desire to spend his life with her, she could not wait for him any longer. Her brother was in a bad way, and in order to keep her family line alive she had to marry and produce heirs as quickly as possible. There was no more time for waiting.
Her hair was curled and left mostly hanging down her back, showing off the length and thick shine of the deep brown waves. the front part was swept up and twined into an intricate crown of braids that wove around a gold circlet with a Peisistratos amethyst set in the front. Her chiton was a deep plum that was nearly black and set her pale skin glowing in comparison, a golden belt emphasizing the slightness of her waist and matching bands set on her wrists. Though she rarely applied face paint, she darkened her lips slightly and gave her cheeks a pink tinge for maximum effort.
Joining Leto before they made their entrance, Iolanthe smiled fondly at the younger woman, a sense of pride filling her chest at the sight of her protege. Magnus' sister had his cleverness, but also a subtle beauty that could easily be used to her advantage if she just had more practice putting it in place. Looping their arms together, their entrance had more than a few eyes pulled in their direction, and Io had to remind herself they were still in mourning to not preen at the attention. She allowed Leto to take the lead as they moved about, when the other woman broke off she followed her movements with a watchful gaze, a glass of wine in her hand as she kept an eye on her charge. It would be a night of interesting events that was to be sure.
The news that Magnus had not returned with the new King Vangelis had hurt, on top of the mourning the entire kingdom was put through she now had to mourn privately in her own way. It had been her hope that Magnus would come home with the prince turned king and his entourage, but it seemed that instead of her lover returning and taking her offer of marriage, he had sent in his place a set of deposed rulers. In preparing for the event, Iolanthe took extra care with her appearance. If he took his time in coming home and seemingly had no true desire to spend his life with her, she could not wait for him any longer. Her brother was in a bad way, and in order to keep her family line alive she had to marry and produce heirs as quickly as possible. There was no more time for waiting.
Her hair was curled and left mostly hanging down her back, showing off the length and thick shine of the deep brown waves. the front part was swept up and twined into an intricate crown of braids that wove around a gold circlet with a Peisistratos amethyst set in the front. Her chiton was a deep plum that was nearly black and set her pale skin glowing in comparison, a golden belt emphasizing the slightness of her waist and matching bands set on her wrists. Though she rarely applied face paint, she darkened her lips slightly and gave her cheeks a pink tinge for maximum effort.
Joining Leto before they made their entrance, Iolanthe smiled fondly at the younger woman, a sense of pride filling her chest at the sight of her protege. Magnus' sister had his cleverness, but also a subtle beauty that could easily be used to her advantage if she just had more practice putting it in place. Looping their arms together, their entrance had more than a few eyes pulled in their direction, and Io had to remind herself they were still in mourning to not preen at the attention. She allowed Leto to take the lead as they moved about, when the other woman broke off she followed her movements with a watchful gaze, a glass of wine in her hand as she kept an eye on her charge. It would be a night of interesting events that was to be sure.
Sitting on the foot of the bed she was forced to share with Stephanos, Olympia gazed off into the distance as one of the princess Evras' maids piled her hair into a sort of fashionable style. Her black curls had no ornament, no crown, only a series of braids pulled up and out of the way. A chiton had been found for her in a deep red that reminded her too much of dried blood, but she hadn't found a voice to say anything. Perhaps she should have asked for some sort of makeup, some paint to give her wan complexion a hint of the color she hadn't felt like she had since the birth of her daughter, but she didn't have the urge to do so.
Her husband was somewhere in the room preparing himself as the maid finished her hair and helped slide her feet into the sandals provided for her since she had fled barefoot. It stung every time something was given to her, it was a reminder that she had nothing in the world any longer but her name and her child, everything else that was put on her or fed to her was generosity from the Colchian court. It was the main reason she was making herself attend this function when she hadn't left the room except to go to temple.
From the cot in the corner a little wailing cry drew her attention, and Olympia stood to attend to her daughter, lifting Tisiphone into her arms and soothing the babe until she finally settled down. The maid who had helped her dress then approached with a smile, holding out her own arms and waiting until the former queen handed her the little princess. Letting go was the hardest part, and her fists tightened around her skirts as she moved to the door.
She was silent as they left the palace and traveled to the Arcus, allowing Stephanos to help her out of the carriage and staying step by step with him as they made their entrance until she finally caught sight of her mother and sisters. Tears welled up in her eyes and she tried to keep them from falling as she made her way through the crowd and waited until Selene had released their mother before finally throwing her arms around Evelli and clinging to her tightly. Hiding her face in her shoulder, Pia allowed herself to finally relax for the first time since they had been on the boat.
"I'm sorry, mama."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Sitting on the foot of the bed she was forced to share with Stephanos, Olympia gazed off into the distance as one of the princess Evras' maids piled her hair into a sort of fashionable style. Her black curls had no ornament, no crown, only a series of braids pulled up and out of the way. A chiton had been found for her in a deep red that reminded her too much of dried blood, but she hadn't found a voice to say anything. Perhaps she should have asked for some sort of makeup, some paint to give her wan complexion a hint of the color she hadn't felt like she had since the birth of her daughter, but she didn't have the urge to do so.
Her husband was somewhere in the room preparing himself as the maid finished her hair and helped slide her feet into the sandals provided for her since she had fled barefoot. It stung every time something was given to her, it was a reminder that she had nothing in the world any longer but her name and her child, everything else that was put on her or fed to her was generosity from the Colchian court. It was the main reason she was making herself attend this function when she hadn't left the room except to go to temple.
From the cot in the corner a little wailing cry drew her attention, and Olympia stood to attend to her daughter, lifting Tisiphone into her arms and soothing the babe until she finally settled down. The maid who had helped her dress then approached with a smile, holding out her own arms and waiting until the former queen handed her the little princess. Letting go was the hardest part, and her fists tightened around her skirts as she moved to the door.
She was silent as they left the palace and traveled to the Arcus, allowing Stephanos to help her out of the carriage and staying step by step with him as they made their entrance until she finally caught sight of her mother and sisters. Tears welled up in her eyes and she tried to keep them from falling as she made her way through the crowd and waited until Selene had released their mother before finally throwing her arms around Evelli and clinging to her tightly. Hiding her face in her shoulder, Pia allowed herself to finally relax for the first time since they had been on the boat.
"I'm sorry, mama."
Sitting on the foot of the bed she was forced to share with Stephanos, Olympia gazed off into the distance as one of the princess Evras' maids piled her hair into a sort of fashionable style. Her black curls had no ornament, no crown, only a series of braids pulled up and out of the way. A chiton had been found for her in a deep red that reminded her too much of dried blood, but she hadn't found a voice to say anything. Perhaps she should have asked for some sort of makeup, some paint to give her wan complexion a hint of the color she hadn't felt like she had since the birth of her daughter, but she didn't have the urge to do so.
Her husband was somewhere in the room preparing himself as the maid finished her hair and helped slide her feet into the sandals provided for her since she had fled barefoot. It stung every time something was given to her, it was a reminder that she had nothing in the world any longer but her name and her child, everything else that was put on her or fed to her was generosity from the Colchian court. It was the main reason she was making herself attend this function when she hadn't left the room except to go to temple.
From the cot in the corner a little wailing cry drew her attention, and Olympia stood to attend to her daughter, lifting Tisiphone into her arms and soothing the babe until she finally settled down. The maid who had helped her dress then approached with a smile, holding out her own arms and waiting until the former queen handed her the little princess. Letting go was the hardest part, and her fists tightened around her skirts as she moved to the door.
She was silent as they left the palace and traveled to the Arcus, allowing Stephanos to help her out of the carriage and staying step by step with him as they made their entrance until she finally caught sight of her mother and sisters. Tears welled up in her eyes and she tried to keep them from falling as she made her way through the crowd and waited until Selene had released their mother before finally throwing her arms around Evelli and clinging to her tightly. Hiding her face in her shoulder, Pia allowed herself to finally relax for the first time since they had been on the boat.