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It seemed innocuous enough, for their first excursion outside the walls of the palati. None could fault the princess for wanting to pray, after all, not even Circenia. Lesley didn't know yet how much slack they might be given, but he was not going to ask for much to start with. Find out exactly what the rules were, then run roughshod all over them, was his preferred method of defiance - he'd learned how uncomfortable it could be to trip over something you weren't expecting to get you in trouble in his years as a slave. He'd also learned a number of tricks to doing whatever the hell he wanted while still leaving his masters believing he could be trusted with little to no supervision.
At the moment, none of his thoughts showed on his face. Playing the part of the perfectly respectful, highly alert but completely opioinless bodyguard would have been alternately boring and irritating if it hadn't been a facade, but he knew he'd done a good job. He'd gotten a pretty penny out of the contract, and properly conveyed his understanding that part of his job was keeping track of the princess. The fact she'd slipped her guards in the past and come to watch him train at the Arcus had provided both a way to seem entirely sympathetic to that order without admitting the slightest political knowledge, and an opening to innocently but with just a hint of awkwardness ask what he was expected to do about the princess's flirting. Not quite bold enough to outright ask for permission, but acknowledging that Circenia's permission was required. He wasn't actually interested - but he wanted to know where the lines were.
It conveniently turned out that Circenia didn't care. He caught the subtext - don't cause a scandal, don't get her pregnant, and don't assume that her interest was either permanent or would ever entitle him to anything, but otherwise keep her happy and distracted from whatever her family was getting up to.
Well, he certainly wasn't going to get her pregnant, he wasn't really ambitious, and hopefully she'd be happy. As for the rest, easy enough to pretend, for now.
He let her body slave hand her down from the litter, and sent them all home. He would send someone with a message if and when they were needed again; for now, anonymity would do as much to protect the princess as a handful of slaves following her around like so many ducklings. He'd been hired because Emilia thought he was handsome, but he'd quickly given every indication of being competent, and arguing with any of his sensible-sounding decisions would require someone to both know and admit that her isolation was not just for her own safety.
He followed her into the temple's sanctuary, looking around with an alert, professional eye. Satisfied, he stepped closer to his charge, and murmured respectfully, "May I make my own prayers, my lady? I will rejoin you in just a moment."
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It seemed innocuous enough, for their first excursion outside the walls of the palati. None could fault the princess for wanting to pray, after all, not even Circenia. Lesley didn't know yet how much slack they might be given, but he was not going to ask for much to start with. Find out exactly what the rules were, then run roughshod all over them, was his preferred method of defiance - he'd learned how uncomfortable it could be to trip over something you weren't expecting to get you in trouble in his years as a slave. He'd also learned a number of tricks to doing whatever the hell he wanted while still leaving his masters believing he could be trusted with little to no supervision.
At the moment, none of his thoughts showed on his face. Playing the part of the perfectly respectful, highly alert but completely opioinless bodyguard would have been alternately boring and irritating if it hadn't been a facade, but he knew he'd done a good job. He'd gotten a pretty penny out of the contract, and properly conveyed his understanding that part of his job was keeping track of the princess. The fact she'd slipped her guards in the past and come to watch him train at the Arcus had provided both a way to seem entirely sympathetic to that order without admitting the slightest political knowledge, and an opening to innocently but with just a hint of awkwardness ask what he was expected to do about the princess's flirting. Not quite bold enough to outright ask for permission, but acknowledging that Circenia's permission was required. He wasn't actually interested - but he wanted to know where the lines were.
It conveniently turned out that Circenia didn't care. He caught the subtext - don't cause a scandal, don't get her pregnant, and don't assume that her interest was either permanent or would ever entitle him to anything, but otherwise keep her happy and distracted from whatever her family was getting up to.
Well, he certainly wasn't going to get her pregnant, he wasn't really ambitious, and hopefully she'd be happy. As for the rest, easy enough to pretend, for now.
He let her body slave hand her down from the litter, and sent them all home. He would send someone with a message if and when they were needed again; for now, anonymity would do as much to protect the princess as a handful of slaves following her around like so many ducklings. He'd been hired because Emilia thought he was handsome, but he'd quickly given every indication of being competent, and arguing with any of his sensible-sounding decisions would require someone to both know and admit that her isolation was not just for her own safety.
He followed her into the temple's sanctuary, looking around with an alert, professional eye. Satisfied, he stepped closer to his charge, and murmured respectfully, "May I make my own prayers, my lady? I will rejoin you in just a moment."
It seemed innocuous enough, for their first excursion outside the walls of the palati. None could fault the princess for wanting to pray, after all, not even Circenia. Lesley didn't know yet how much slack they might be given, but he was not going to ask for much to start with. Find out exactly what the rules were, then run roughshod all over them, was his preferred method of defiance - he'd learned how uncomfortable it could be to trip over something you weren't expecting to get you in trouble in his years as a slave. He'd also learned a number of tricks to doing whatever the hell he wanted while still leaving his masters believing he could be trusted with little to no supervision.
At the moment, none of his thoughts showed on his face. Playing the part of the perfectly respectful, highly alert but completely opioinless bodyguard would have been alternately boring and irritating if it hadn't been a facade, but he knew he'd done a good job. He'd gotten a pretty penny out of the contract, and properly conveyed his understanding that part of his job was keeping track of the princess. The fact she'd slipped her guards in the past and come to watch him train at the Arcus had provided both a way to seem entirely sympathetic to that order without admitting the slightest political knowledge, and an opening to innocently but with just a hint of awkwardness ask what he was expected to do about the princess's flirting. Not quite bold enough to outright ask for permission, but acknowledging that Circenia's permission was required. He wasn't actually interested - but he wanted to know where the lines were.
It conveniently turned out that Circenia didn't care. He caught the subtext - don't cause a scandal, don't get her pregnant, and don't assume that her interest was either permanent or would ever entitle him to anything, but otherwise keep her happy and distracted from whatever her family was getting up to.
Well, he certainly wasn't going to get her pregnant, he wasn't really ambitious, and hopefully she'd be happy. As for the rest, easy enough to pretend, for now.
He let her body slave hand her down from the litter, and sent them all home. He would send someone with a message if and when they were needed again; for now, anonymity would do as much to protect the princess as a handful of slaves following her around like so many ducklings. He'd been hired because Emilia thought he was handsome, but he'd quickly given every indication of being competent, and arguing with any of his sensible-sounding decisions would require someone to both know and admit that her isolation was not just for her own safety.
He followed her into the temple's sanctuary, looking around with an alert, professional eye. Satisfied, he stepped closer to his charge, and murmured respectfully, "May I make my own prayers, my lady? I will rejoin you in just a moment."
It was the best reason she could find without arousing too much suspicion. Elias's hand had been forced when it came to allowing Emilia beyond the palace walls, but it had been accompanied by Circenia and Danae - which really wasn't much freedom if you thought about it. Ever since allowing Lesley to work as a guard for Emilia however, the young princess had found that the easiest way to get out of the walls was to visit the Gods. How could one fault a devout, pious young princess who merely wanted to pay her respects to the pantheon of gods of their people?
So they had set out, in the litter which curtains Elias had insisted remained drawn the whole time, to 'prevent anyone from knowing her identity' it would seem. How curtains would prevent that, Emilia did not know, not when she had two guards and four maids following her. A bit excessive if you asked her, but really, the young princess wasn't going to question at this point when she was just happy to be out.
The first few minutes of being out was just of Emilia enjoying the fresh breeze that caressed her skin, but it wasn't till she was handed down by her slave, did a smile truly appear on her lips. It had been far too long since Emilia had seen blue skies and heard the cry of the gulls from anywhere aside from her chamber's windows.
She stood still for a moment at the Naos, just taking in the scenery, before finally ascending the steps to the chamber where the God's likenesses were kept. Her ankle-length teal chiton was serviceable, not at all the extravagant gowns Emilia was always seen in, yet still sparkled with silver jewelry and stones. She had eschewed slippers and walked barefooted, her hair wound up in a tight braid on top of her head.
Entering the chambers of the Gods was a comforting sense, as if they now enveloped her in a warm embrace that welcomed her back - the first time she's felt safe in a long, long time. Was this how it felt like to have her father or Persephone hug her? Emilia feared she was beginning to forget.
Lesley's voice caused her to turn, a slight look of surprise as if she had forgotten he was around. The young girl took a moment to process his words, before a soft smile appeared on her lips as she nodded. "Of course, Lesley. I shall be inside, whenever you're done." The brunette watched him leave for a moment, her habit to appreciate his form (he was a gladiator for a reason afterall), before entering the Naos.
The likeness of Aphrodite was there right next to her brethren, and she was the goddess Emilia usually went to. But the situation now called for Gods far beyond Aphrodite's capability. So instead, Emilia turned to Zeus and Hera, the King and Queen of the Olympian Gods, and it was in front of them that she kneeled and prayed after offering the pomegranate and a branch from an old oak tree. She had much to say to them, from wondering on her sister's whereabouts, to praying for her father's safe passage to the afterlife... to the situation in Athenia. So much that she would barely realize if anyone had walked up to her.
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It was the best reason she could find without arousing too much suspicion. Elias's hand had been forced when it came to allowing Emilia beyond the palace walls, but it had been accompanied by Circenia and Danae - which really wasn't much freedom if you thought about it. Ever since allowing Lesley to work as a guard for Emilia however, the young princess had found that the easiest way to get out of the walls was to visit the Gods. How could one fault a devout, pious young princess who merely wanted to pay her respects to the pantheon of gods of their people?
So they had set out, in the litter which curtains Elias had insisted remained drawn the whole time, to 'prevent anyone from knowing her identity' it would seem. How curtains would prevent that, Emilia did not know, not when she had two guards and four maids following her. A bit excessive if you asked her, but really, the young princess wasn't going to question at this point when she was just happy to be out.
The first few minutes of being out was just of Emilia enjoying the fresh breeze that caressed her skin, but it wasn't till she was handed down by her slave, did a smile truly appear on her lips. It had been far too long since Emilia had seen blue skies and heard the cry of the gulls from anywhere aside from her chamber's windows.
She stood still for a moment at the Naos, just taking in the scenery, before finally ascending the steps to the chamber where the God's likenesses were kept. Her ankle-length teal chiton was serviceable, not at all the extravagant gowns Emilia was always seen in, yet still sparkled with silver jewelry and stones. She had eschewed slippers and walked barefooted, her hair wound up in a tight braid on top of her head.
Entering the chambers of the Gods was a comforting sense, as if they now enveloped her in a warm embrace that welcomed her back - the first time she's felt safe in a long, long time. Was this how it felt like to have her father or Persephone hug her? Emilia feared she was beginning to forget.
Lesley's voice caused her to turn, a slight look of surprise as if she had forgotten he was around. The young girl took a moment to process his words, before a soft smile appeared on her lips as she nodded. "Of course, Lesley. I shall be inside, whenever you're done." The brunette watched him leave for a moment, her habit to appreciate his form (he was a gladiator for a reason afterall), before entering the Naos.
The likeness of Aphrodite was there right next to her brethren, and she was the goddess Emilia usually went to. But the situation now called for Gods far beyond Aphrodite's capability. So instead, Emilia turned to Zeus and Hera, the King and Queen of the Olympian Gods, and it was in front of them that she kneeled and prayed after offering the pomegranate and a branch from an old oak tree. She had much to say to them, from wondering on her sister's whereabouts, to praying for her father's safe passage to the afterlife... to the situation in Athenia. So much that she would barely realize if anyone had walked up to her.
It was the best reason she could find without arousing too much suspicion. Elias's hand had been forced when it came to allowing Emilia beyond the palace walls, but it had been accompanied by Circenia and Danae - which really wasn't much freedom if you thought about it. Ever since allowing Lesley to work as a guard for Emilia however, the young princess had found that the easiest way to get out of the walls was to visit the Gods. How could one fault a devout, pious young princess who merely wanted to pay her respects to the pantheon of gods of their people?
So they had set out, in the litter which curtains Elias had insisted remained drawn the whole time, to 'prevent anyone from knowing her identity' it would seem. How curtains would prevent that, Emilia did not know, not when she had two guards and four maids following her. A bit excessive if you asked her, but really, the young princess wasn't going to question at this point when she was just happy to be out.
The first few minutes of being out was just of Emilia enjoying the fresh breeze that caressed her skin, but it wasn't till she was handed down by her slave, did a smile truly appear on her lips. It had been far too long since Emilia had seen blue skies and heard the cry of the gulls from anywhere aside from her chamber's windows.
She stood still for a moment at the Naos, just taking in the scenery, before finally ascending the steps to the chamber where the God's likenesses were kept. Her ankle-length teal chiton was serviceable, not at all the extravagant gowns Emilia was always seen in, yet still sparkled with silver jewelry and stones. She had eschewed slippers and walked barefooted, her hair wound up in a tight braid on top of her head.
Entering the chambers of the Gods was a comforting sense, as if they now enveloped her in a warm embrace that welcomed her back - the first time she's felt safe in a long, long time. Was this how it felt like to have her father or Persephone hug her? Emilia feared she was beginning to forget.
Lesley's voice caused her to turn, a slight look of surprise as if she had forgotten he was around. The young girl took a moment to process his words, before a soft smile appeared on her lips as she nodded. "Of course, Lesley. I shall be inside, whenever you're done." The brunette watched him leave for a moment, her habit to appreciate his form (he was a gladiator for a reason afterall), before entering the Naos.
The likeness of Aphrodite was there right next to her brethren, and she was the goddess Emilia usually went to. But the situation now called for Gods far beyond Aphrodite's capability. So instead, Emilia turned to Zeus and Hera, the King and Queen of the Olympian Gods, and it was in front of them that she kneeled and prayed after offering the pomegranate and a branch from an old oak tree. She had much to say to them, from wondering on her sister's whereabouts, to praying for her father's safe passage to the afterlife... to the situation in Athenia. So much that she would barely realize if anyone had walked up to her.
Her permission was enough for him to step away from her side, but not enough for him to let her entirely out of his sight. A casually dropped coin was his only offering to Ares; not traditionally symbolic, but the priests would take care of the proper rites, and helping to pay for those same priests to eat, or to put something towards whatever repair or maintenance of the temple, seemed respectful enough. For whatever temper he might have, he was the god of soldiers, and Lesley was yet to meet a soldier without a healthy core of practicality.
To Hades, he gave a packet of incense, and bowed his head for a moment. Of all the gods, Les thought death was likely the most fair. Like an eternally bratty teenager, the gladiator was not one to put up with following any rule or command he didn't have to, but a stern, fair authority with consistently enforced boundaries was capable of earning his respect. You couldn't cheat death. You could gamble, and with enough skill you could win... for a time. But you couldn't cheat. And, stern and unyielding he might be, but Hades didn't cheat either. All the stories agreed there - once he made a deal or gave his word, the god of the underworld didn't try to weasel back out of it. Unlike, well... most gods. Most men, too. Lesley was no exception to that - usually.
"Look after Vasilis, please." Lesley sighed. "I know I've said it before, but he doesn't really do well with new situations." Stupid idiot. He hadn't even meant to kill him. "Maybe he's settling in by now. I dunno. Tell him I'm sorry, I guess."
He shrugged, sighed again, and moved further into the temple to hover behind his charge. He wasn't tempted to ask any of the gods for anything for himself. Advice, sometimes, but rarely even that. He'd rather take his licks and enjoys whatever bounty he got knowing his own choices had led him to either. Life held fewer regrets that way.
"I wouldn't advise it immediately, but you don't need to go through Elias to reconvene the Senate," he murmured to the princess, after double-checking there was still no-one around to overhear. "I would definitely want to make some improvements to your security arrangements first. Still. You might not know how to solve the issues facing Athenia right now, but the barons should have a decent idea of what needs doing." He paused, thinking. "You know... actually, since he was stripped of his rank you don't even need to notify him."
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Her permission was enough for him to step away from her side, but not enough for him to let her entirely out of his sight. A casually dropped coin was his only offering to Ares; not traditionally symbolic, but the priests would take care of the proper rites, and helping to pay for those same priests to eat, or to put something towards whatever repair or maintenance of the temple, seemed respectful enough. For whatever temper he might have, he was the god of soldiers, and Lesley was yet to meet a soldier without a healthy core of practicality.
To Hades, he gave a packet of incense, and bowed his head for a moment. Of all the gods, Les thought death was likely the most fair. Like an eternally bratty teenager, the gladiator was not one to put up with following any rule or command he didn't have to, but a stern, fair authority with consistently enforced boundaries was capable of earning his respect. You couldn't cheat death. You could gamble, and with enough skill you could win... for a time. But you couldn't cheat. And, stern and unyielding he might be, but Hades didn't cheat either. All the stories agreed there - once he made a deal or gave his word, the god of the underworld didn't try to weasel back out of it. Unlike, well... most gods. Most men, too. Lesley was no exception to that - usually.
"Look after Vasilis, please." Lesley sighed. "I know I've said it before, but he doesn't really do well with new situations." Stupid idiot. He hadn't even meant to kill him. "Maybe he's settling in by now. I dunno. Tell him I'm sorry, I guess."
He shrugged, sighed again, and moved further into the temple to hover behind his charge. He wasn't tempted to ask any of the gods for anything for himself. Advice, sometimes, but rarely even that. He'd rather take his licks and enjoys whatever bounty he got knowing his own choices had led him to either. Life held fewer regrets that way.
"I wouldn't advise it immediately, but you don't need to go through Elias to reconvene the Senate," he murmured to the princess, after double-checking there was still no-one around to overhear. "I would definitely want to make some improvements to your security arrangements first. Still. You might not know how to solve the issues facing Athenia right now, but the barons should have a decent idea of what needs doing." He paused, thinking. "You know... actually, since he was stripped of his rank you don't even need to notify him."
Her permission was enough for him to step away from her side, but not enough for him to let her entirely out of his sight. A casually dropped coin was his only offering to Ares; not traditionally symbolic, but the priests would take care of the proper rites, and helping to pay for those same priests to eat, or to put something towards whatever repair or maintenance of the temple, seemed respectful enough. For whatever temper he might have, he was the god of soldiers, and Lesley was yet to meet a soldier without a healthy core of practicality.
To Hades, he gave a packet of incense, and bowed his head for a moment. Of all the gods, Les thought death was likely the most fair. Like an eternally bratty teenager, the gladiator was not one to put up with following any rule or command he didn't have to, but a stern, fair authority with consistently enforced boundaries was capable of earning his respect. You couldn't cheat death. You could gamble, and with enough skill you could win... for a time. But you couldn't cheat. And, stern and unyielding he might be, but Hades didn't cheat either. All the stories agreed there - once he made a deal or gave his word, the god of the underworld didn't try to weasel back out of it. Unlike, well... most gods. Most men, too. Lesley was no exception to that - usually.
"Look after Vasilis, please." Lesley sighed. "I know I've said it before, but he doesn't really do well with new situations." Stupid idiot. He hadn't even meant to kill him. "Maybe he's settling in by now. I dunno. Tell him I'm sorry, I guess."
He shrugged, sighed again, and moved further into the temple to hover behind his charge. He wasn't tempted to ask any of the gods for anything for himself. Advice, sometimes, but rarely even that. He'd rather take his licks and enjoys whatever bounty he got knowing his own choices had led him to either. Life held fewer regrets that way.
"I wouldn't advise it immediately, but you don't need to go through Elias to reconvene the Senate," he murmured to the princess, after double-checking there was still no-one around to overhear. "I would definitely want to make some improvements to your security arrangements first. Still. You might not know how to solve the issues facing Athenia right now, but the barons should have a decent idea of what needs doing." He paused, thinking. "You know... actually, since he was stripped of his rank you don't even need to notify him."
Lesley's presence hovering behind her was turning surprisingly normal now. In a way, Emilia was just used to a bodyguard with her, but ever since Nicholai had been sacrificed in the attack, there were few who she personally knew, and none on the level of her old bodyguard who had watched over her since she had been eight. The other bodyguards Elias had assigned to her had been non-comittal and simply saw her as a job, something which made the princess unnerved.
The gladiator however, while gruff he may be, at least showed to some extent that he cared, and for that Emilia was settled, as she knelt afore the figure of Hera and Zeus, head bent in a prayer. A prayer for the safety of her sister, for the people of Athenia, and for the future to look brighter, for it now seemed very, very bleak to her.
Silence reigned in the temple of course, a holy place that many came to seek peace, whether be it internal or external peace. For Emilia it was both, for to add on to all her worries, sleep now eluded her, mind filled with too many problems, none of which she had a solution for. She had never been the one people came to for solutions afterall. It had been Persepone, it had always been Persephone.
Looking up, the girl was startled at Lesley's sudden words, that it took a moment before the words actually sunk in. The brunette blinked, comprehending what he meant, before her brows furrowed. "But... I don't know the first thing about convening a Senate. How does one notify all the barons? And how does one ensure everyone arrives in a timely manner? What do we discuss? How do we start?" All the questions tumbled out, for Emilia had never actually been in Senate... and she had no clue how one was run.
But that didn't mean she didn't know someone who knew.
As if struck by a sudden idea, Emilia's gaze flickered to the granite ground as Lesley continued talking, his words barely registering in her head. She knew someone who could help, of course. Aimias. Emilia had only seen him once after her sister had fled, in a library the only time she had managed to give her guards the slip, but surely he would know how. "Even if everyone in the kingdom believes Elias to be the best course of action for the kingdom? His rank may have been stripped by my sister, but with Persephone gone, that order has now been nullified." the girl pressed further in query, if only to clarify before she suggested her idea to Lesley.
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Lesley's presence hovering behind her was turning surprisingly normal now. In a way, Emilia was just used to a bodyguard with her, but ever since Nicholai had been sacrificed in the attack, there were few who she personally knew, and none on the level of her old bodyguard who had watched over her since she had been eight. The other bodyguards Elias had assigned to her had been non-comittal and simply saw her as a job, something which made the princess unnerved.
The gladiator however, while gruff he may be, at least showed to some extent that he cared, and for that Emilia was settled, as she knelt afore the figure of Hera and Zeus, head bent in a prayer. A prayer for the safety of her sister, for the people of Athenia, and for the future to look brighter, for it now seemed very, very bleak to her.
Silence reigned in the temple of course, a holy place that many came to seek peace, whether be it internal or external peace. For Emilia it was both, for to add on to all her worries, sleep now eluded her, mind filled with too many problems, none of which she had a solution for. She had never been the one people came to for solutions afterall. It had been Persepone, it had always been Persephone.
Looking up, the girl was startled at Lesley's sudden words, that it took a moment before the words actually sunk in. The brunette blinked, comprehending what he meant, before her brows furrowed. "But... I don't know the first thing about convening a Senate. How does one notify all the barons? And how does one ensure everyone arrives in a timely manner? What do we discuss? How do we start?" All the questions tumbled out, for Emilia had never actually been in Senate... and she had no clue how one was run.
But that didn't mean she didn't know someone who knew.
As if struck by a sudden idea, Emilia's gaze flickered to the granite ground as Lesley continued talking, his words barely registering in her head. She knew someone who could help, of course. Aimias. Emilia had only seen him once after her sister had fled, in a library the only time she had managed to give her guards the slip, but surely he would know how. "Even if everyone in the kingdom believes Elias to be the best course of action for the kingdom? His rank may have been stripped by my sister, but with Persephone gone, that order has now been nullified." the girl pressed further in query, if only to clarify before she suggested her idea to Lesley.
Lesley's presence hovering behind her was turning surprisingly normal now. In a way, Emilia was just used to a bodyguard with her, but ever since Nicholai had been sacrificed in the attack, there were few who she personally knew, and none on the level of her old bodyguard who had watched over her since she had been eight. The other bodyguards Elias had assigned to her had been non-comittal and simply saw her as a job, something which made the princess unnerved.
The gladiator however, while gruff he may be, at least showed to some extent that he cared, and for that Emilia was settled, as she knelt afore the figure of Hera and Zeus, head bent in a prayer. A prayer for the safety of her sister, for the people of Athenia, and for the future to look brighter, for it now seemed very, very bleak to her.
Silence reigned in the temple of course, a holy place that many came to seek peace, whether be it internal or external peace. For Emilia it was both, for to add on to all her worries, sleep now eluded her, mind filled with too many problems, none of which she had a solution for. She had never been the one people came to for solutions afterall. It had been Persepone, it had always been Persephone.
Looking up, the girl was startled at Lesley's sudden words, that it took a moment before the words actually sunk in. The brunette blinked, comprehending what he meant, before her brows furrowed. "But... I don't know the first thing about convening a Senate. How does one notify all the barons? And how does one ensure everyone arrives in a timely manner? What do we discuss? How do we start?" All the questions tumbled out, for Emilia had never actually been in Senate... and she had no clue how one was run.
But that didn't mean she didn't know someone who knew.
As if struck by a sudden idea, Emilia's gaze flickered to the granite ground as Lesley continued talking, his words barely registering in her head. She knew someone who could help, of course. Aimias. Emilia had only seen him once after her sister had fled, in a library the only time she had managed to give her guards the slip, but surely he would know how. "Even if everyone in the kingdom believes Elias to be the best course of action for the kingdom? His rank may have been stripped by my sister, but with Persephone gone, that order has now been nullified." the girl pressed further in query, if only to clarify before she suggested her idea to Lesley.
"I was under the impression it was your father's order," Lesley replied. "Which should not be nullified by his death. Besides, if my lord Elias believed the barons would side with him, the senate would already be in session. They likely won't side with you either, but-" It didn't take him more than a second to think who would be next in line; the Athenian noble lineages had been drummed thoroughly enough into his head in his youth that a few blows in the arena were unlikely to dislodge it. "My lord Panos wouldn't make a terrible king." Frankly, Lesley would be willing to support a Marikas dynasty - not that anyone was liable to care about his opinion. Except, seemingly, one lady Emilia. That was a surprising enough turn of events in his life to keep his interest focused.
He resisted the urge to pace, and instead bowed his head. It would look pious enough, but it was a trick he had figured out in the arena while shaking off some blow or another - if you lowered your gaze, your peripheral vision extended behind you. Les might not have the eyes for distance, but he could catch movement or an unexpected shadow with the best of them.
"Have you ever learned the basics of defending yourself, my lady?" It might have been a change of subject, but to Lesley's mind, the question sprung directly from the current topic.
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"I was under the impression it was your father's order," Lesley replied. "Which should not be nullified by his death. Besides, if my lord Elias believed the barons would side with him, the senate would already be in session. They likely won't side with you either, but-" It didn't take him more than a second to think who would be next in line; the Athenian noble lineages had been drummed thoroughly enough into his head in his youth that a few blows in the arena were unlikely to dislodge it. "My lord Panos wouldn't make a terrible king." Frankly, Lesley would be willing to support a Marikas dynasty - not that anyone was liable to care about his opinion. Except, seemingly, one lady Emilia. That was a surprising enough turn of events in his life to keep his interest focused.
He resisted the urge to pace, and instead bowed his head. It would look pious enough, but it was a trick he had figured out in the arena while shaking off some blow or another - if you lowered your gaze, your peripheral vision extended behind you. Les might not have the eyes for distance, but he could catch movement or an unexpected shadow with the best of them.
"Have you ever learned the basics of defending yourself, my lady?" It might have been a change of subject, but to Lesley's mind, the question sprung directly from the current topic.
"I was under the impression it was your father's order," Lesley replied. "Which should not be nullified by his death. Besides, if my lord Elias believed the barons would side with him, the senate would already be in session. They likely won't side with you either, but-" It didn't take him more than a second to think who would be next in line; the Athenian noble lineages had been drummed thoroughly enough into his head in his youth that a few blows in the arena were unlikely to dislodge it. "My lord Panos wouldn't make a terrible king." Frankly, Lesley would be willing to support a Marikas dynasty - not that anyone was liable to care about his opinion. Except, seemingly, one lady Emilia. That was a surprising enough turn of events in his life to keep his interest focused.
He resisted the urge to pace, and instead bowed his head. It would look pious enough, but it was a trick he had figured out in the arena while shaking off some blow or another - if you lowered your gaze, your peripheral vision extended behind you. Les might not have the eyes for distance, but he could catch movement or an unexpected shadow with the best of them.
"Have you ever learned the basics of defending yourself, my lady?" It might have been a change of subject, but to Lesley's mind, the question sprung directly from the current topic.
Emilia worried her bottomlip, as she considered her guard's words.Lesley was not wrong, it had been Minas's order upon his death, but that no Xanthos sat on the throne now made the order a gray area. What Lesley suggested was clear to see of course. He was suggesting for Emilia to take back what was rightfully her family's by force, that Elias was doing a bang up horrible job of ruling a country... but Emilia had never forced her hand for anything in her life. Not even for what she wanted. Too often, Emilia thought of others before herself, that forcing just wasn't in her nature, and the very idea of doing that brushed her up the wrong way.
So the whole time Lesley spoke, the young princess worried at her bottom lip. His comment on Panos made Emilia look up, and the girl raised a brow. Panos? Father to Rafail? Emilia already couldn't stand the prissy young lord too obsessed with his own self, but she wondered how would Lord Panos be like as a ruler, in the seat her father had been in. Now, more then anything, Emilia wished she had paid attention in her lessons on nobles and barons, but wishing wouldn't change anything now.
"Perhaps." she agreed vaguely, worrying her fingers on her lap. "But how would I even go about it?"
It would seem, however, that Lesley had his own plans for it. Which was more then one could say for Emilia, really. Her plans so far was a blank slate. Turning to look at him with his query, she gazed at his visage with a look of enamoured curiosity, before giving a slow shake of her head. "Many have tried, even with archery, but I'm afraid I have two left feet and two right hands when it comes to self defense or fighting, Lesley. In fact, other's in my vicinity are more in danger, friend and foe alike no matter what weapon I wield." That she had almost taken the eye of her archery instructor out five years ago had been the last straw, and Minas had ordered Emilia far from any weapon, even a simple dagger, careless as the brunette was. It was why she had double the amount of guards her sister had, for Emilia simply couldn't do much in terms of fighting.
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Emilia worried her bottomlip, as she considered her guard's words.Lesley was not wrong, it had been Minas's order upon his death, but that no Xanthos sat on the throne now made the order a gray area. What Lesley suggested was clear to see of course. He was suggesting for Emilia to take back what was rightfully her family's by force, that Elias was doing a bang up horrible job of ruling a country... but Emilia had never forced her hand for anything in her life. Not even for what she wanted. Too often, Emilia thought of others before herself, that forcing just wasn't in her nature, and the very idea of doing that brushed her up the wrong way.
So the whole time Lesley spoke, the young princess worried at her bottom lip. His comment on Panos made Emilia look up, and the girl raised a brow. Panos? Father to Rafail? Emilia already couldn't stand the prissy young lord too obsessed with his own self, but she wondered how would Lord Panos be like as a ruler, in the seat her father had been in. Now, more then anything, Emilia wished she had paid attention in her lessons on nobles and barons, but wishing wouldn't change anything now.
"Perhaps." she agreed vaguely, worrying her fingers on her lap. "But how would I even go about it?"
It would seem, however, that Lesley had his own plans for it. Which was more then one could say for Emilia, really. Her plans so far was a blank slate. Turning to look at him with his query, she gazed at his visage with a look of enamoured curiosity, before giving a slow shake of her head. "Many have tried, even with archery, but I'm afraid I have two left feet and two right hands when it comes to self defense or fighting, Lesley. In fact, other's in my vicinity are more in danger, friend and foe alike no matter what weapon I wield." That she had almost taken the eye of her archery instructor out five years ago had been the last straw, and Minas had ordered Emilia far from any weapon, even a simple dagger, careless as the brunette was. It was why she had double the amount of guards her sister had, for Emilia simply couldn't do much in terms of fighting.
Emilia worried her bottomlip, as she considered her guard's words.Lesley was not wrong, it had been Minas's order upon his death, but that no Xanthos sat on the throne now made the order a gray area. What Lesley suggested was clear to see of course. He was suggesting for Emilia to take back what was rightfully her family's by force, that Elias was doing a bang up horrible job of ruling a country... but Emilia had never forced her hand for anything in her life. Not even for what she wanted. Too often, Emilia thought of others before herself, that forcing just wasn't in her nature, and the very idea of doing that brushed her up the wrong way.
So the whole time Lesley spoke, the young princess worried at her bottom lip. His comment on Panos made Emilia look up, and the girl raised a brow. Panos? Father to Rafail? Emilia already couldn't stand the prissy young lord too obsessed with his own self, but she wondered how would Lord Panos be like as a ruler, in the seat her father had been in. Now, more then anything, Emilia wished she had paid attention in her lessons on nobles and barons, but wishing wouldn't change anything now.
"Perhaps." she agreed vaguely, worrying her fingers on her lap. "But how would I even go about it?"
It would seem, however, that Lesley had his own plans for it. Which was more then one could say for Emilia, really. Her plans so far was a blank slate. Turning to look at him with his query, she gazed at his visage with a look of enamoured curiosity, before giving a slow shake of her head. "Many have tried, even with archery, but I'm afraid I have two left feet and two right hands when it comes to self defense or fighting, Lesley. In fact, other's in my vicinity are more in danger, friend and foe alike no matter what weapon I wield." That she had almost taken the eye of her archery instructor out five years ago had been the last straw, and Minas had ordered Emilia far from any weapon, even a simple dagger, careless as the brunette was. It was why she had double the amount of guards her sister had, for Emilia simply couldn't do much in terms of fighting.
"Hmph." For just a moment, Lesley was once again the exasperated no-slack-given trainer from the arcus, disappointed in what he saw but not enough to prescribe anything other than more practice, and completely uncaring of what rank or ego anyone else might have. "Then your teachers were idiots."
His expression cleared to polite nothingness again, and his tone regained the respectful with your permission undertone that was well practiced but not at all natural to him. "I see no point learning to defend yourself with a weapon you will not have at hand when it is needed," he pointed out. "And if you don't mind me saying so, there is a good chance your struggles were due as much to do with hesitation than natural clumsiness. You seem too ladylike to find any weapon comfortable in your hand. Yet that does not mean that you have no chance of learning how to escape an attack."
His eyebrows drew together in soft concern. "My apologies, I interrupted your prayers."
He stepped back a half step, giving her space to think, and himself as well. To the gladiator, everything was a challenge, a conflict, even among friends. He wasn't used to coaxing another, or being gentle. He wanted to push, but when there was no prize, he also preferred to match himself to his opponent. There were few enough who could match him in his usual field that life got boring, otherwise. Then, too, this wasn't a situation where he carried his usual self-confidence. Quarter-speed wasn't a bad thing when he was feeling out a weapon he hadn't touched in a couple of decades, and never actually used seriously.
It took a certain type of patience to wait quietly for orders from someone who seemed to have less skill or less awareness than oneself, and it was not the sort of patience Lesley had in any abundance. Still, he was doing his best. He pulled a smooth, flat river-stone from his pouch, and turned it over and over in his fingers. It gave him a quiet way to fidget, that didn't make him seem impatient or nervous. He wasn't either - well, sometimes impatient. But mostly he was simply not a man for whom stillness came naturally. Or at all, some days.
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"Hmph." For just a moment, Lesley was once again the exasperated no-slack-given trainer from the arcus, disappointed in what he saw but not enough to prescribe anything other than more practice, and completely uncaring of what rank or ego anyone else might have. "Then your teachers were idiots."
His expression cleared to polite nothingness again, and his tone regained the respectful with your permission undertone that was well practiced but not at all natural to him. "I see no point learning to defend yourself with a weapon you will not have at hand when it is needed," he pointed out. "And if you don't mind me saying so, there is a good chance your struggles were due as much to do with hesitation than natural clumsiness. You seem too ladylike to find any weapon comfortable in your hand. Yet that does not mean that you have no chance of learning how to escape an attack."
His eyebrows drew together in soft concern. "My apologies, I interrupted your prayers."
He stepped back a half step, giving her space to think, and himself as well. To the gladiator, everything was a challenge, a conflict, even among friends. He wasn't used to coaxing another, or being gentle. He wanted to push, but when there was no prize, he also preferred to match himself to his opponent. There were few enough who could match him in his usual field that life got boring, otherwise. Then, too, this wasn't a situation where he carried his usual self-confidence. Quarter-speed wasn't a bad thing when he was feeling out a weapon he hadn't touched in a couple of decades, and never actually used seriously.
It took a certain type of patience to wait quietly for orders from someone who seemed to have less skill or less awareness than oneself, and it was not the sort of patience Lesley had in any abundance. Still, he was doing his best. He pulled a smooth, flat river-stone from his pouch, and turned it over and over in his fingers. It gave him a quiet way to fidget, that didn't make him seem impatient or nervous. He wasn't either - well, sometimes impatient. But mostly he was simply not a man for whom stillness came naturally. Or at all, some days.
"Hmph." For just a moment, Lesley was once again the exasperated no-slack-given trainer from the arcus, disappointed in what he saw but not enough to prescribe anything other than more practice, and completely uncaring of what rank or ego anyone else might have. "Then your teachers were idiots."
His expression cleared to polite nothingness again, and his tone regained the respectful with your permission undertone that was well practiced but not at all natural to him. "I see no point learning to defend yourself with a weapon you will not have at hand when it is needed," he pointed out. "And if you don't mind me saying so, there is a good chance your struggles were due as much to do with hesitation than natural clumsiness. You seem too ladylike to find any weapon comfortable in your hand. Yet that does not mean that you have no chance of learning how to escape an attack."
His eyebrows drew together in soft concern. "My apologies, I interrupted your prayers."
He stepped back a half step, giving her space to think, and himself as well. To the gladiator, everything was a challenge, a conflict, even among friends. He wasn't used to coaxing another, or being gentle. He wanted to push, but when there was no prize, he also preferred to match himself to his opponent. There were few enough who could match him in his usual field that life got boring, otherwise. Then, too, this wasn't a situation where he carried his usual self-confidence. Quarter-speed wasn't a bad thing when he was feeling out a weapon he hadn't touched in a couple of decades, and never actually used seriously.
It took a certain type of patience to wait quietly for orders from someone who seemed to have less skill or less awareness than oneself, and it was not the sort of patience Lesley had in any abundance. Still, he was doing his best. He pulled a smooth, flat river-stone from his pouch, and turned it over and over in his fingers. It gave him a quiet way to fidget, that didn't make him seem impatient or nervous. He wasn't either - well, sometimes impatient. But mostly he was simply not a man for whom stillness came naturally. Or at all, some days.
"I'm not sure about that," Emilia replied with a chuckle, a faraway look in her eye. It felt so long ago that she was laughing on the grass on a warm summer afternoon in the Palati as her arrow found its mark once again on the wrong target. It happened so often her father had once suggested she aim for something two feet away from her actual target, and she may actually stand a chance. So long ago that the greatest worry in life was if she would make it to the docks early enough to get first pick of bolts of material coming in from faraway lands.
So long ago.
"My father did try to hire the best." The last part was said with melancholy lacing her words, but the smile never did fade from her lips, just a tad muted by then. Flickering her gaze back up to Lesley as he continued speaking, her brows raised as she saw him make a point. He wasn't wrong, it wasn't as if she would be carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows around everywhere, it would be unsightly for a woman of her status, and something Persephone would never agree to, even if she indulged in most of Emilia's whims and fancies.
Shaking her head, she allowed her brunette curls to bounce as she negated his apology. "No, I'm just about done anyhow." she murmured, quickly getting up and dusting her chiton before making her way to stand by Lesley's side, interest sparked in her hazel gaze now. "So what are you proposing then, Lesley?" Her tone was encouraging, as if she wanted to hear more from the gladiator. After so many weeks of pandering and being pandered to, it felt refreshing to hear someone speak their mind, someone who was unafraid to have their heads chopped off, and was willing to take the risk to get the right thing done.
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"I'm not sure about that," Emilia replied with a chuckle, a faraway look in her eye. It felt so long ago that she was laughing on the grass on a warm summer afternoon in the Palati as her arrow found its mark once again on the wrong target. It happened so often her father had once suggested she aim for something two feet away from her actual target, and she may actually stand a chance. So long ago that the greatest worry in life was if she would make it to the docks early enough to get first pick of bolts of material coming in from faraway lands.
So long ago.
"My father did try to hire the best." The last part was said with melancholy lacing her words, but the smile never did fade from her lips, just a tad muted by then. Flickering her gaze back up to Lesley as he continued speaking, her brows raised as she saw him make a point. He wasn't wrong, it wasn't as if she would be carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows around everywhere, it would be unsightly for a woman of her status, and something Persephone would never agree to, even if she indulged in most of Emilia's whims and fancies.
Shaking her head, she allowed her brunette curls to bounce as she negated his apology. "No, I'm just about done anyhow." she murmured, quickly getting up and dusting her chiton before making her way to stand by Lesley's side, interest sparked in her hazel gaze now. "So what are you proposing then, Lesley?" Her tone was encouraging, as if she wanted to hear more from the gladiator. After so many weeks of pandering and being pandered to, it felt refreshing to hear someone speak their mind, someone who was unafraid to have their heads chopped off, and was willing to take the risk to get the right thing done.
"I'm not sure about that," Emilia replied with a chuckle, a faraway look in her eye. It felt so long ago that she was laughing on the grass on a warm summer afternoon in the Palati as her arrow found its mark once again on the wrong target. It happened so often her father had once suggested she aim for something two feet away from her actual target, and she may actually stand a chance. So long ago that the greatest worry in life was if she would make it to the docks early enough to get first pick of bolts of material coming in from faraway lands.
So long ago.
"My father did try to hire the best." The last part was said with melancholy lacing her words, but the smile never did fade from her lips, just a tad muted by then. Flickering her gaze back up to Lesley as he continued speaking, her brows raised as she saw him make a point. He wasn't wrong, it wasn't as if she would be carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows around everywhere, it would be unsightly for a woman of her status, and something Persephone would never agree to, even if she indulged in most of Emilia's whims and fancies.
Shaking her head, she allowed her brunette curls to bounce as she negated his apology. "No, I'm just about done anyhow." she murmured, quickly getting up and dusting her chiton before making her way to stand by Lesley's side, interest sparked in her hazel gaze now. "So what are you proposing then, Lesley?" Her tone was encouraging, as if she wanted to hear more from the gladiator. After so many weeks of pandering and being pandered to, it felt refreshing to hear someone speak their mind, someone who was unafraid to have their heads chopped off, and was willing to take the risk to get the right thing done.
"I think your lady aunt would rightfully have me skinned alive if I was bold enough to propose... anything," the gladiator retorted with a broad grin and not quite a wink. Then he gave her a more serious answer, "To start with, I'd suggest you stop leaving it to your servants to take your dog out. An hour a day running around with him will do you a lot of good. And a lot less boring than the laps I make my boys run." He flashed his charge another grin. "I keep telling them, there's nothing more embarrassing than getting stabbed just because you had to stop and take a breather." Embarrassment being relative, of course, and somewhat subjective - but Lesley, at least, would be far more sanguine about any sort of social faux pas than about making a novice mistake in a fight. "Especially for you - you don't need to be able to win a fight, just stay alive long enough for your guards to take care of the problem, which could easily just mean being fast enough to keep a healthy distance."
A thoughtful wrinkle appeared between the man's brows as he considered. A young lady wouldn't take the same benefit from having a full day of physical activity as a man would, he assumed, but she'd seemed obviously bored to him, in the time he'd been with her, to the point she'd likely be heading straight for a nervous condition if she didn't find something to do. As young as she was, and as out of her depth as she seemed, he guessed she wouldn't be throwing herself wholeheartedly into politics as soon as she felt she had some backup.
"What do you want to do?" he asked quietly. "You're the only Xanthos left in Athenia, but if you want to marry your cousin and eat stuffed dates and leave everything to him and the barons to sort out, you can."
Boring.
"Would you like to come for a walk? I think if we don't take too long, and avoid places you'd be recognized, we won't get in trouble." She seemed to care about her citizens, even if she didn't know much; there was probably a way to convince her not to be boring.
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"I think your lady aunt would rightfully have me skinned alive if I was bold enough to propose... anything," the gladiator retorted with a broad grin and not quite a wink. Then he gave her a more serious answer, "To start with, I'd suggest you stop leaving it to your servants to take your dog out. An hour a day running around with him will do you a lot of good. And a lot less boring than the laps I make my boys run." He flashed his charge another grin. "I keep telling them, there's nothing more embarrassing than getting stabbed just because you had to stop and take a breather." Embarrassment being relative, of course, and somewhat subjective - but Lesley, at least, would be far more sanguine about any sort of social faux pas than about making a novice mistake in a fight. "Especially for you - you don't need to be able to win a fight, just stay alive long enough for your guards to take care of the problem, which could easily just mean being fast enough to keep a healthy distance."
A thoughtful wrinkle appeared between the man's brows as he considered. A young lady wouldn't take the same benefit from having a full day of physical activity as a man would, he assumed, but she'd seemed obviously bored to him, in the time he'd been with her, to the point she'd likely be heading straight for a nervous condition if she didn't find something to do. As young as she was, and as out of her depth as she seemed, he guessed she wouldn't be throwing herself wholeheartedly into politics as soon as she felt she had some backup.
"What do you want to do?" he asked quietly. "You're the only Xanthos left in Athenia, but if you want to marry your cousin and eat stuffed dates and leave everything to him and the barons to sort out, you can."
Boring.
"Would you like to come for a walk? I think if we don't take too long, and avoid places you'd be recognized, we won't get in trouble." She seemed to care about her citizens, even if she didn't know much; there was probably a way to convince her not to be boring.
"I think your lady aunt would rightfully have me skinned alive if I was bold enough to propose... anything," the gladiator retorted with a broad grin and not quite a wink. Then he gave her a more serious answer, "To start with, I'd suggest you stop leaving it to your servants to take your dog out. An hour a day running around with him will do you a lot of good. And a lot less boring than the laps I make my boys run." He flashed his charge another grin. "I keep telling them, there's nothing more embarrassing than getting stabbed just because you had to stop and take a breather." Embarrassment being relative, of course, and somewhat subjective - but Lesley, at least, would be far more sanguine about any sort of social faux pas than about making a novice mistake in a fight. "Especially for you - you don't need to be able to win a fight, just stay alive long enough for your guards to take care of the problem, which could easily just mean being fast enough to keep a healthy distance."
A thoughtful wrinkle appeared between the man's brows as he considered. A young lady wouldn't take the same benefit from having a full day of physical activity as a man would, he assumed, but she'd seemed obviously bored to him, in the time he'd been with her, to the point she'd likely be heading straight for a nervous condition if she didn't find something to do. As young as she was, and as out of her depth as she seemed, he guessed she wouldn't be throwing herself wholeheartedly into politics as soon as she felt she had some backup.
"What do you want to do?" he asked quietly. "You're the only Xanthos left in Athenia, but if you want to marry your cousin and eat stuffed dates and leave everything to him and the barons to sort out, you can."
Boring.
"Would you like to come for a walk? I think if we don't take too long, and avoid places you'd be recognized, we won't get in trouble." She seemed to care about her citizens, even if she didn't know much; there was probably a way to convince her not to be boring.
Emilia found herself flushing, not missing the broad grin and semi-wink the gladiator presented her with. Now was not the time to fall into her old habits of developing a crush on any handsome man she saw every week or so, but Emilia found it difficult when Lesley was gruff, yet charming in his own manner. And it did not help matters that the gladiator seemed to genuinely be concerned for her wellbeing, and Emilia was always a sucker for kindness.
Shaking her head quickly to try and rid the warmth in her cheeks, the girl listened and gave a quick nod. To walk Labros everyday sounded like a chore, especially for a princess used to staying indoors or handling instruments like the harp, but if Lesley said it would help, then she'd do it. His words made sense anyhow, for Emilia's list of atheletic achievements was woefully tiny, and she had been so dependent upon her guards for her life, she was unlikely to outrun anyone even if her life depended on it.
"Does it have to be an hour though?" the princess tried her luck with a little rueful grin. His next question however, quellled any small amount of cheekiness that surfaced in her. Immediately the grin melted away to a troubled, thhoughtful look. It was a question Emilia never had to think of before. She had always taken it for granted that Persephone would always be around to handle things, even if her father wasn't. Persephone had been that strong, supporting pillar Emilia had always counted on.
So what did she do when she wasn't around?
"I don't want to marry him, that's for sure." she quickly blurted out. Elias was handsome, and back then that was Emilia's main criteria when it came to falling head over heels for someone. But his words also illicited curiosity and doubt in Emilia, and he did not seem as genuine as other's she had come to know. Lesley for one. So the idea of marrying Elias, handsome as he may be, seemed unfathomable to Emilia.
Nodding mindlessly to his request for a walk, she blindly followed Lesley's guide as her mind twisted and turned, chewing on the question the guard had just thrown her way. What did she want? "It would be foolish to say I simply want Persephone back, wouldn't it." she murmured half-heartedly, subconsciously ensuring her chiton did not pick up dirt as she walked alongside Lesley, not even noticing where they were going. "I guess I simply want Athenia to thrive? To grow and to have our people be happy and content. And for that to happen, they must want for nothing.... and Senate must open."
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Emilia found herself flushing, not missing the broad grin and semi-wink the gladiator presented her with. Now was not the time to fall into her old habits of developing a crush on any handsome man she saw every week or so, but Emilia found it difficult when Lesley was gruff, yet charming in his own manner. And it did not help matters that the gladiator seemed to genuinely be concerned for her wellbeing, and Emilia was always a sucker for kindness.
Shaking her head quickly to try and rid the warmth in her cheeks, the girl listened and gave a quick nod. To walk Labros everyday sounded like a chore, especially for a princess used to staying indoors or handling instruments like the harp, but if Lesley said it would help, then she'd do it. His words made sense anyhow, for Emilia's list of atheletic achievements was woefully tiny, and she had been so dependent upon her guards for her life, she was unlikely to outrun anyone even if her life depended on it.
"Does it have to be an hour though?" the princess tried her luck with a little rueful grin. His next question however, quellled any small amount of cheekiness that surfaced in her. Immediately the grin melted away to a troubled, thhoughtful look. It was a question Emilia never had to think of before. She had always taken it for granted that Persephone would always be around to handle things, even if her father wasn't. Persephone had been that strong, supporting pillar Emilia had always counted on.
So what did she do when she wasn't around?
"I don't want to marry him, that's for sure." she quickly blurted out. Elias was handsome, and back then that was Emilia's main criteria when it came to falling head over heels for someone. But his words also illicited curiosity and doubt in Emilia, and he did not seem as genuine as other's she had come to know. Lesley for one. So the idea of marrying Elias, handsome as he may be, seemed unfathomable to Emilia.
Nodding mindlessly to his request for a walk, she blindly followed Lesley's guide as her mind twisted and turned, chewing on the question the guard had just thrown her way. What did she want? "It would be foolish to say I simply want Persephone back, wouldn't it." she murmured half-heartedly, subconsciously ensuring her chiton did not pick up dirt as she walked alongside Lesley, not even noticing where they were going. "I guess I simply want Athenia to thrive? To grow and to have our people be happy and content. And for that to happen, they must want for nothing.... and Senate must open."
Emilia found herself flushing, not missing the broad grin and semi-wink the gladiator presented her with. Now was not the time to fall into her old habits of developing a crush on any handsome man she saw every week or so, but Emilia found it difficult when Lesley was gruff, yet charming in his own manner. And it did not help matters that the gladiator seemed to genuinely be concerned for her wellbeing, and Emilia was always a sucker for kindness.
Shaking her head quickly to try and rid the warmth in her cheeks, the girl listened and gave a quick nod. To walk Labros everyday sounded like a chore, especially for a princess used to staying indoors or handling instruments like the harp, but if Lesley said it would help, then she'd do it. His words made sense anyhow, for Emilia's list of atheletic achievements was woefully tiny, and she had been so dependent upon her guards for her life, she was unlikely to outrun anyone even if her life depended on it.
"Does it have to be an hour though?" the princess tried her luck with a little rueful grin. His next question however, quellled any small amount of cheekiness that surfaced in her. Immediately the grin melted away to a troubled, thhoughtful look. It was a question Emilia never had to think of before. She had always taken it for granted that Persephone would always be around to handle things, even if her father wasn't. Persephone had been that strong, supporting pillar Emilia had always counted on.
So what did she do when she wasn't around?
"I don't want to marry him, that's for sure." she quickly blurted out. Elias was handsome, and back then that was Emilia's main criteria when it came to falling head over heels for someone. But his words also illicited curiosity and doubt in Emilia, and he did not seem as genuine as other's she had come to know. Lesley for one. So the idea of marrying Elias, handsome as he may be, seemed unfathomable to Emilia.
Nodding mindlessly to his request for a walk, she blindly followed Lesley's guide as her mind twisted and turned, chewing on the question the guard had just thrown her way. What did she want? "It would be foolish to say I simply want Persephone back, wouldn't it." she murmured half-heartedly, subconsciously ensuring her chiton did not pick up dirt as she walked alongside Lesley, not even noticing where they were going. "I guess I simply want Athenia to thrive? To grow and to have our people be happy and content. And for that to happen, they must want for nothing.... and Senate must open."
"Foolish to expect it, perhaps," Lesley conceded to her comment about wishing for her sister's return, "but not foolish to want it."
In the gladiator's experience, pretending you didn't want what you did, or vice versa, might be necessary in the face you showed to the world, and deciding that only one specific unattainable thing would make you happy was a straightforward recipe to a short, miserable life, but being honest with yourself, at least, about everything you wanted, why, and how much, was required if you were going to put together a plan to get any of it. Lying to yourself just led to self-sabotaging behaviours down the line.
He offered her his arm and led her across the temple grounds ignoring the feeling of self-consciousness. He was dressed far more respectably than usual, his mother's hand showing in nearly every stitch of his clothing. He preferred unadorned dark browns or deep blues, or maybe plain white in the hottest part of the summer when everyone else was in pastels. He reminded himself that he was still dressed quite soberly compared to most of the upper classes, and that dressing like a common labourer when in the company of an obviously well bred lady would stand out more rather than less.
"It is too bad that you were not invited to the last court function," he said quietly, then hummed thoughtfully. "Have you a friend or two that were, that you would trust to honestly tell you who seems to be siding with whom?"
There were gods who could only be properly worshiped under the open sky, and Lesley fancied he could feel the holiness of the ground they walked on. He did not take comfort from the feeling as some might, but it was not uncomfortable either. Like many things in life, it simply was, and since it was neither excitingly unexpected nor had it any direct effect on him, he noticed it but didn't really care.
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"Foolish to expect it, perhaps," Lesley conceded to her comment about wishing for her sister's return, "but not foolish to want it."
In the gladiator's experience, pretending you didn't want what you did, or vice versa, might be necessary in the face you showed to the world, and deciding that only one specific unattainable thing would make you happy was a straightforward recipe to a short, miserable life, but being honest with yourself, at least, about everything you wanted, why, and how much, was required if you were going to put together a plan to get any of it. Lying to yourself just led to self-sabotaging behaviours down the line.
He offered her his arm and led her across the temple grounds ignoring the feeling of self-consciousness. He was dressed far more respectably than usual, his mother's hand showing in nearly every stitch of his clothing. He preferred unadorned dark browns or deep blues, or maybe plain white in the hottest part of the summer when everyone else was in pastels. He reminded himself that he was still dressed quite soberly compared to most of the upper classes, and that dressing like a common labourer when in the company of an obviously well bred lady would stand out more rather than less.
"It is too bad that you were not invited to the last court function," he said quietly, then hummed thoughtfully. "Have you a friend or two that were, that you would trust to honestly tell you who seems to be siding with whom?"
There were gods who could only be properly worshiped under the open sky, and Lesley fancied he could feel the holiness of the ground they walked on. He did not take comfort from the feeling as some might, but it was not uncomfortable either. Like many things in life, it simply was, and since it was neither excitingly unexpected nor had it any direct effect on him, he noticed it but didn't really care.
"Foolish to expect it, perhaps," Lesley conceded to her comment about wishing for her sister's return, "but not foolish to want it."
In the gladiator's experience, pretending you didn't want what you did, or vice versa, might be necessary in the face you showed to the world, and deciding that only one specific unattainable thing would make you happy was a straightforward recipe to a short, miserable life, but being honest with yourself, at least, about everything you wanted, why, and how much, was required if you were going to put together a plan to get any of it. Lying to yourself just led to self-sabotaging behaviours down the line.
He offered her his arm and led her across the temple grounds ignoring the feeling of self-consciousness. He was dressed far more respectably than usual, his mother's hand showing in nearly every stitch of his clothing. He preferred unadorned dark browns or deep blues, or maybe plain white in the hottest part of the summer when everyone else was in pastels. He reminded himself that he was still dressed quite soberly compared to most of the upper classes, and that dressing like a common labourer when in the company of an obviously well bred lady would stand out more rather than less.
"It is too bad that you were not invited to the last court function," he said quietly, then hummed thoughtfully. "Have you a friend or two that were, that you would trust to honestly tell you who seems to be siding with whom?"
There were gods who could only be properly worshiped under the open sky, and Lesley fancied he could feel the holiness of the ground they walked on. He did not take comfort from the feeling as some might, but it was not uncomfortable either. Like many things in life, it simply was, and since it was neither excitingly unexpected nor had it any direct effect on him, he noticed it but didn't really care.
Somehow Lesley always had a way with words, and while they may not be flowery and beautiful as the ones so often given to her by the court attendants and barons who wished to curry her favor, it was truthful, something that was very appreciated in the current situation of confusion and chaos, at least in Emilia's mind. For someone who always had her sister to rely on, a situation with Persephone could only mean a mess in her mind's eye.
Taking the arm offered to her, Emilia was careful to pick her skirts up as she followed and fell in step next to Lesley, allowing him to lead her across to the temple. If other's found it odd, Emilia would ignore them, for Lesley was practically the only firm rock she could find in a sea of uncertainty, and the brunette needed a rock for now. Lesley's no nonsense attitude calmed her, and Emilia found it necessary to prevent herself hyperventilating at any given chance.
"I wasn't uninvited as I was advised against coming. Elias said it wasn't safe... and no, I don't know if I have anyone to consider friends, right now." Which, in hindsight, sounded very sad, but in Emilia's case was true. As a princess, she found it increasingly hard to differentiate who was a friend and who wasn't, and if her own cousin who Emilia had always believed to be a friend at least, could turn against her, then who could she believe? Danae's reaction still stung, but Emilia's learned to not let it show, at the very least.
The girl let the silence linger, before she asked. "Is it true, Lesley? What Elias says about it being unsafe for me. Is there... basis to the reasons he has for keeping me indoors all the time?" Surely after a month, whatever unrest that happened could be deemeed settled for now?
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Somehow Lesley always had a way with words, and while they may not be flowery and beautiful as the ones so often given to her by the court attendants and barons who wished to curry her favor, it was truthful, something that was very appreciated in the current situation of confusion and chaos, at least in Emilia's mind. For someone who always had her sister to rely on, a situation with Persephone could only mean a mess in her mind's eye.
Taking the arm offered to her, Emilia was careful to pick her skirts up as she followed and fell in step next to Lesley, allowing him to lead her across to the temple. If other's found it odd, Emilia would ignore them, for Lesley was practically the only firm rock she could find in a sea of uncertainty, and the brunette needed a rock for now. Lesley's no nonsense attitude calmed her, and Emilia found it necessary to prevent herself hyperventilating at any given chance.
"I wasn't uninvited as I was advised against coming. Elias said it wasn't safe... and no, I don't know if I have anyone to consider friends, right now." Which, in hindsight, sounded very sad, but in Emilia's case was true. As a princess, she found it increasingly hard to differentiate who was a friend and who wasn't, and if her own cousin who Emilia had always believed to be a friend at least, could turn against her, then who could she believe? Danae's reaction still stung, but Emilia's learned to not let it show, at the very least.
The girl let the silence linger, before she asked. "Is it true, Lesley? What Elias says about it being unsafe for me. Is there... basis to the reasons he has for keeping me indoors all the time?" Surely after a month, whatever unrest that happened could be deemeed settled for now?
Somehow Lesley always had a way with words, and while they may not be flowery and beautiful as the ones so often given to her by the court attendants and barons who wished to curry her favor, it was truthful, something that was very appreciated in the current situation of confusion and chaos, at least in Emilia's mind. For someone who always had her sister to rely on, a situation with Persephone could only mean a mess in her mind's eye.
Taking the arm offered to her, Emilia was careful to pick her skirts up as she followed and fell in step next to Lesley, allowing him to lead her across to the temple. If other's found it odd, Emilia would ignore them, for Lesley was practically the only firm rock she could find in a sea of uncertainty, and the brunette needed a rock for now. Lesley's no nonsense attitude calmed her, and Emilia found it necessary to prevent herself hyperventilating at any given chance.
"I wasn't uninvited as I was advised against coming. Elias said it wasn't safe... and no, I don't know if I have anyone to consider friends, right now." Which, in hindsight, sounded very sad, but in Emilia's case was true. As a princess, she found it increasingly hard to differentiate who was a friend and who wasn't, and if her own cousin who Emilia had always believed to be a friend at least, could turn against her, then who could she believe? Danae's reaction still stung, but Emilia's learned to not let it show, at the very least.
The girl let the silence linger, before she asked. "Is it true, Lesley? What Elias says about it being unsafe for me. Is there... basis to the reasons he has for keeping me indoors all the time?" Surely after a month, whatever unrest that happened could be deemeed settled for now?
"Are you asking if I think you would have been safer in a room full of guards, and the entire noble court as witnesses, than alone in your bedchambers without even a servant to notice an armed stranger breaking in?" Lesley asked with a lift of his eyebrows. No, Elias was either an overprotective idiot, or he was acting against her best interests. Or both - Lesley had once had a clear outsider's view of how nobles could have strangely mixed feelings towards their relatives.
Then he shrugged. "Do I think there might still be someone who wishes you ill? Maybe. If the motive was simply that someone objected to a queen on the throne, then I would say you are a much less likely target than Her Majesty was. Frankly - even if you took the title, you're more, well.. meek." Not really more ladylike, Lesley wasn't going to go that far. He'd never heard a rumor of Persephone being at all butch. "You give the impression you would allow your husband to rule, regardless of title."
He looked down at his charge thoughtfully. "If the motive was something else, no way to know. You really should find out who you can trust, and who you can't. Perhaps you could insist on being at the next court gathering. It would be illuminating to see who treats you as heir to an absent monarch and who treats you as the Stravos's poor cousin." Most would be too canny to fall quite so obviously into one camp or the other, he guessed, but it would be interesting to see how they all behaved regardless.
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"Are you asking if I think you would have been safer in a room full of guards, and the entire noble court as witnesses, than alone in your bedchambers without even a servant to notice an armed stranger breaking in?" Lesley asked with a lift of his eyebrows. No, Elias was either an overprotective idiot, or he was acting against her best interests. Or both - Lesley had once had a clear outsider's view of how nobles could have strangely mixed feelings towards their relatives.
Then he shrugged. "Do I think there might still be someone who wishes you ill? Maybe. If the motive was simply that someone objected to a queen on the throne, then I would say you are a much less likely target than Her Majesty was. Frankly - even if you took the title, you're more, well.. meek." Not really more ladylike, Lesley wasn't going to go that far. He'd never heard a rumor of Persephone being at all butch. "You give the impression you would allow your husband to rule, regardless of title."
He looked down at his charge thoughtfully. "If the motive was something else, no way to know. You really should find out who you can trust, and who you can't. Perhaps you could insist on being at the next court gathering. It would be illuminating to see who treats you as heir to an absent monarch and who treats you as the Stravos's poor cousin." Most would be too canny to fall quite so obviously into one camp or the other, he guessed, but it would be interesting to see how they all behaved regardless.
"Are you asking if I think you would have been safer in a room full of guards, and the entire noble court as witnesses, than alone in your bedchambers without even a servant to notice an armed stranger breaking in?" Lesley asked with a lift of his eyebrows. No, Elias was either an overprotective idiot, or he was acting against her best interests. Or both - Lesley had once had a clear outsider's view of how nobles could have strangely mixed feelings towards their relatives.
Then he shrugged. "Do I think there might still be someone who wishes you ill? Maybe. If the motive was simply that someone objected to a queen on the throne, then I would say you are a much less likely target than Her Majesty was. Frankly - even if you took the title, you're more, well.. meek." Not really more ladylike, Lesley wasn't going to go that far. He'd never heard a rumor of Persephone being at all butch. "You give the impression you would allow your husband to rule, regardless of title."
He looked down at his charge thoughtfully. "If the motive was something else, no way to know. You really should find out who you can trust, and who you can't. Perhaps you could insist on being at the next court gathering. It would be illuminating to see who treats you as heir to an absent monarch and who treats you as the Stravos's poor cousin." Most would be too canny to fall quite so obviously into one camp or the other, he guessed, but it would be interesting to see how they all behaved regardless.
As innocent as she was, even Emilia could sense the slight sarcasm in Lesley's voice when he replied, and in return the princess gave an uncertain, genuinely concerned look. She knew of Lesley's nature, definitely more sardonic then other's, but she also knew the man did not mean to be disrespectful or harmful, it was simply who he was. Lesley was likely the only one who could get away with such a response, for Emilia merely sighed at his continued question, a question she had asked herself many times.
Who were those insurgents even after that night? If it had been her sister, she would've been carried away - but no, Persephone had ran, but somehow Emilia had been left unharmed. Sure, it could be argued that her former guard (who had been killed in the process) had saved her, and that she had been rescued by the appearance of Elias. Yet none of the insurgents had truly tried to knock down her door that night, really. Perhaps it was the growling dog? But Labros had been no more then four months old then, and was hardly as imposing a figure as he was now, the stalking black panther constantly at her feet back at the palati.
Merely raising a brow when he called her meek, Emilia chose to make no comment because, well... he wasn't wrong. How would she rule if she had never learned to anyhow? One could not have confidence in doing something they have never learned to. Her lessons had always been geared towards her being the perfect princess, the perfect wife to someone. Not to be a ruler of a kingdom. Neither did she have the head for it.
"Finding out someone I can trust has always been difficult, you should know that." He was, afterall, the one who had been the more suspicious of nobles. It was Emilia's whole life, now more pronounced then ever since the day her cousin showed her true nature. Emilia never once imagined Danae could be cruel as such, and her heart still clenched when she recalled how she had almost lost her dog, all simply because her cousin wanted revenge.
Subconsciously, her fists clenched by her side, the other on Lesley's arm tensing up before she noticed, and forced herself to relax. "I can try, at least. Thank you Lesley." Briefly, Emilia flashed a small smile at the guard, one that was a mix of both vulnerability and thankfulness at the stalwart presence of the other by her side, before she heaved a sigh and stopped in their tracks. "Let's go back. Maybe... Maybe I can go look for Elias myself, a talk to him may help. Do you think?" Perhaps it was foolish for her to think so, but the young brunette still wished to believe the best in everyone, even after the suspicions casted upon Elias's nature.
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As innocent as she was, even Emilia could sense the slight sarcasm in Lesley's voice when he replied, and in return the princess gave an uncertain, genuinely concerned look. She knew of Lesley's nature, definitely more sardonic then other's, but she also knew the man did not mean to be disrespectful or harmful, it was simply who he was. Lesley was likely the only one who could get away with such a response, for Emilia merely sighed at his continued question, a question she had asked herself many times.
Who were those insurgents even after that night? If it had been her sister, she would've been carried away - but no, Persephone had ran, but somehow Emilia had been left unharmed. Sure, it could be argued that her former guard (who had been killed in the process) had saved her, and that she had been rescued by the appearance of Elias. Yet none of the insurgents had truly tried to knock down her door that night, really. Perhaps it was the growling dog? But Labros had been no more then four months old then, and was hardly as imposing a figure as he was now, the stalking black panther constantly at her feet back at the palati.
Merely raising a brow when he called her meek, Emilia chose to make no comment because, well... he wasn't wrong. How would she rule if she had never learned to anyhow? One could not have confidence in doing something they have never learned to. Her lessons had always been geared towards her being the perfect princess, the perfect wife to someone. Not to be a ruler of a kingdom. Neither did she have the head for it.
"Finding out someone I can trust has always been difficult, you should know that." He was, afterall, the one who had been the more suspicious of nobles. It was Emilia's whole life, now more pronounced then ever since the day her cousin showed her true nature. Emilia never once imagined Danae could be cruel as such, and her heart still clenched when she recalled how she had almost lost her dog, all simply because her cousin wanted revenge.
Subconsciously, her fists clenched by her side, the other on Lesley's arm tensing up before she noticed, and forced herself to relax. "I can try, at least. Thank you Lesley." Briefly, Emilia flashed a small smile at the guard, one that was a mix of both vulnerability and thankfulness at the stalwart presence of the other by her side, before she heaved a sigh and stopped in their tracks. "Let's go back. Maybe... Maybe I can go look for Elias myself, a talk to him may help. Do you think?" Perhaps it was foolish for her to think so, but the young brunette still wished to believe the best in everyone, even after the suspicions casted upon Elias's nature.
As innocent as she was, even Emilia could sense the slight sarcasm in Lesley's voice when he replied, and in return the princess gave an uncertain, genuinely concerned look. She knew of Lesley's nature, definitely more sardonic then other's, but she also knew the man did not mean to be disrespectful or harmful, it was simply who he was. Lesley was likely the only one who could get away with such a response, for Emilia merely sighed at his continued question, a question she had asked herself many times.
Who were those insurgents even after that night? If it had been her sister, she would've been carried away - but no, Persephone had ran, but somehow Emilia had been left unharmed. Sure, it could be argued that her former guard (who had been killed in the process) had saved her, and that she had been rescued by the appearance of Elias. Yet none of the insurgents had truly tried to knock down her door that night, really. Perhaps it was the growling dog? But Labros had been no more then four months old then, and was hardly as imposing a figure as he was now, the stalking black panther constantly at her feet back at the palati.
Merely raising a brow when he called her meek, Emilia chose to make no comment because, well... he wasn't wrong. How would she rule if she had never learned to anyhow? One could not have confidence in doing something they have never learned to. Her lessons had always been geared towards her being the perfect princess, the perfect wife to someone. Not to be a ruler of a kingdom. Neither did she have the head for it.
"Finding out someone I can trust has always been difficult, you should know that." He was, afterall, the one who had been the more suspicious of nobles. It was Emilia's whole life, now more pronounced then ever since the day her cousin showed her true nature. Emilia never once imagined Danae could be cruel as such, and her heart still clenched when she recalled how she had almost lost her dog, all simply because her cousin wanted revenge.
Subconsciously, her fists clenched by her side, the other on Lesley's arm tensing up before she noticed, and forced herself to relax. "I can try, at least. Thank you Lesley." Briefly, Emilia flashed a small smile at the guard, one that was a mix of both vulnerability and thankfulness at the stalwart presence of the other by her side, before she heaved a sigh and stopped in their tracks. "Let's go back. Maybe... Maybe I can go look for Elias myself, a talk to him may help. Do you think?" Perhaps it was foolish for her to think so, but the young brunette still wished to believe the best in everyone, even after the suspicions casted upon Elias's nature.
"You know him better than I do, my lady," Lesley replied blandly, and dropped his eyes for a moment. "I see no reason you should not attend court, especially with someone present who's entire job is to keep you personally safe." He shrugged. "There could be something else I am not aware of, but from what your aunt said when I was hired... Perhaps it is my pride speaking," he acknowledged with a dry chuckle, "but I do not think there is anything likely to happen that I cannot protect you from."
As the traced their steps back to the front entrance of the Naos, he added, "As for the senate, I do not truly know." Oh - having her call the senate to order without even warning Lord Elias would be an absolutely lovely piece of chaos, but he was well aware he had already said things that were entirely beyond his place. "Though, I do know Lord Pavlos quite well, your highness - I served him for many years, as a youth." Served, got in trouble with... same difference, right? "If you should decide that you do not wish Lord Elias to be your regent any longer, I am certain he would support you and would keep the best interests of Athenia in mind." The Marikas lord might not support her being next in the succession - but she didn't want to rule anyway, and he was already in a direct enough line to the throne he would have no need to use her as a pawn.
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"You know him better than I do, my lady," Lesley replied blandly, and dropped his eyes for a moment. "I see no reason you should not attend court, especially with someone present who's entire job is to keep you personally safe." He shrugged. "There could be something else I am not aware of, but from what your aunt said when I was hired... Perhaps it is my pride speaking," he acknowledged with a dry chuckle, "but I do not think there is anything likely to happen that I cannot protect you from."
As the traced their steps back to the front entrance of the Naos, he added, "As for the senate, I do not truly know." Oh - having her call the senate to order without even warning Lord Elias would be an absolutely lovely piece of chaos, but he was well aware he had already said things that were entirely beyond his place. "Though, I do know Lord Pavlos quite well, your highness - I served him for many years, as a youth." Served, got in trouble with... same difference, right? "If you should decide that you do not wish Lord Elias to be your regent any longer, I am certain he would support you and would keep the best interests of Athenia in mind." The Marikas lord might not support her being next in the succession - but she didn't want to rule anyway, and he was already in a direct enough line to the throne he would have no need to use her as a pawn.
"You know him better than I do, my lady," Lesley replied blandly, and dropped his eyes for a moment. "I see no reason you should not attend court, especially with someone present who's entire job is to keep you personally safe." He shrugged. "There could be something else I am not aware of, but from what your aunt said when I was hired... Perhaps it is my pride speaking," he acknowledged with a dry chuckle, "but I do not think there is anything likely to happen that I cannot protect you from."
As the traced their steps back to the front entrance of the Naos, he added, "As for the senate, I do not truly know." Oh - having her call the senate to order without even warning Lord Elias would be an absolutely lovely piece of chaos, but he was well aware he had already said things that were entirely beyond his place. "Though, I do know Lord Pavlos quite well, your highness - I served him for many years, as a youth." Served, got in trouble with... same difference, right? "If you should decide that you do not wish Lord Elias to be your regent any longer, I am certain he would support you and would keep the best interests of Athenia in mind." The Marikas lord might not support her being next in the succession - but she didn't want to rule anyway, and he was already in a direct enough line to the throne he would have no need to use her as a pawn.