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In the midst of scandals, accusations of treason, and the upheaval of Stravos reputation within Athenia, Elias stepped away from the house of Stravos and set his sights on what, in his eyes, belonged to him. The crown, while missing, was the head of Stravos' destiny, his claim to lay as soon as the obstacles in his way were eliminated. However, where the horizon was laden with blood and guile alike, the present had its own mounting problems. The Stravos coffers were wilting, the people were suffering and hungry. And most of all, they were inactive. It was Elias' responsibility, before he rose to the throne, to rise back to the occasion of being a lord. Once, he'd been but a baron, ably performing the work and yet... he separated from it. Opportunities were presented to him and squandered, and so, while he toiled and waited... it was time to address what could be rectified more readily.
The guild is restless. The people are hungry... the armies are lacking in their means of transit...
As he'd considered the lofty ambitions of the future, he allowed the present to suffer. So, Elias changed his tact. He isolated himself from his position, freezing the Senate as the matters closer to home were dealt with. With the Stravos (and therefore Elias') nobility restored, the man had but one aim.
Create work. Antonis... Lacides... He could be the answer, the Stravos ruminated. He readied himself, throwing his chiton over his shoulders, allowing it to rest snugly over his toned form as the flowing crimson himation that he favored in his actual (and then self-imposed) exile following it. For a moment, he considered a chlamys, but in the seeing of a true powerhouse within the Athenian military, he reasoned that his mimicry of their code of dress might be seen as disrespectful. The last thing that Elias of Stravos wanted to be seen as was disrespectful. With his reputation in tatters, he was left to recover not merely his status, but his confidence. Blow after blow to both wrenched identity from Elias, and he was left to recover the tattered remnants.
Confident that his look was appropriate, Elias left the royal palati, taking a back route to avoid being seen by common folk. Elias threw his himation over his shoulders, not fully confident that the facade would fool many for long. But, being seen as some anonymous noble was a far better cry than being identified as Elias. His step, unlike the fractured confidence within, was sure. His gait carried him effortlessly from the palace and with time, it was apparent that the architecture grew older and older with his travel. Once the Stravos was within the heart of Archontiko Antonis, he removed the himation from over his head, allowing it to flow over his shoulder and shift with the faint breeze behind him. A set of guards stopped the lord as he entered Antonis territory, and he raised his hands in surrender, his features apparent for them to see.
"Lord Elias. Is there a reason for your visit?" the man on his left asked, keeping his gaze from directly meeting Elias. Though the man wondered why, he had not the time to dally about it. Rather, he answered,
"I need to see your master. Where is Lacides of Antonis?" he asked, allowing some of the impatience to imbue the matter with a sense of urgency. While the guard made it clear that Lacides wasn't present, Elias made an effort to pry. He should've known better than to make an unannounced house call, but there had to be someone he could bring his propositions to.
"And what about Mateos?" he asked, unwilling to take his loss of time at face value.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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In the midst of scandals, accusations of treason, and the upheaval of Stravos reputation within Athenia, Elias stepped away from the house of Stravos and set his sights on what, in his eyes, belonged to him. The crown, while missing, was the head of Stravos' destiny, his claim to lay as soon as the obstacles in his way were eliminated. However, where the horizon was laden with blood and guile alike, the present had its own mounting problems. The Stravos coffers were wilting, the people were suffering and hungry. And most of all, they were inactive. It was Elias' responsibility, before he rose to the throne, to rise back to the occasion of being a lord. Once, he'd been but a baron, ably performing the work and yet... he separated from it. Opportunities were presented to him and squandered, and so, while he toiled and waited... it was time to address what could be rectified more readily.
The guild is restless. The people are hungry... the armies are lacking in their means of transit...
As he'd considered the lofty ambitions of the future, he allowed the present to suffer. So, Elias changed his tact. He isolated himself from his position, freezing the Senate as the matters closer to home were dealt with. With the Stravos (and therefore Elias') nobility restored, the man had but one aim.
Create work. Antonis... Lacides... He could be the answer, the Stravos ruminated. He readied himself, throwing his chiton over his shoulders, allowing it to rest snugly over his toned form as the flowing crimson himation that he favored in his actual (and then self-imposed) exile following it. For a moment, he considered a chlamys, but in the seeing of a true powerhouse within the Athenian military, he reasoned that his mimicry of their code of dress might be seen as disrespectful. The last thing that Elias of Stravos wanted to be seen as was disrespectful. With his reputation in tatters, he was left to recover not merely his status, but his confidence. Blow after blow to both wrenched identity from Elias, and he was left to recover the tattered remnants.
Confident that his look was appropriate, Elias left the royal palati, taking a back route to avoid being seen by common folk. Elias threw his himation over his shoulders, not fully confident that the facade would fool many for long. But, being seen as some anonymous noble was a far better cry than being identified as Elias. His step, unlike the fractured confidence within, was sure. His gait carried him effortlessly from the palace and with time, it was apparent that the architecture grew older and older with his travel. Once the Stravos was within the heart of Archontiko Antonis, he removed the himation from over his head, allowing it to flow over his shoulder and shift with the faint breeze behind him. A set of guards stopped the lord as he entered Antonis territory, and he raised his hands in surrender, his features apparent for them to see.
"Lord Elias. Is there a reason for your visit?" the man on his left asked, keeping his gaze from directly meeting Elias. Though the man wondered why, he had not the time to dally about it. Rather, he answered,
"I need to see your master. Where is Lacides of Antonis?" he asked, allowing some of the impatience to imbue the matter with a sense of urgency. While the guard made it clear that Lacides wasn't present, Elias made an effort to pry. He should've known better than to make an unannounced house call, but there had to be someone he could bring his propositions to.
"And what about Mateos?" he asked, unwilling to take his loss of time at face value.
In the midst of scandals, accusations of treason, and the upheaval of Stravos reputation within Athenia, Elias stepped away from the house of Stravos and set his sights on what, in his eyes, belonged to him. The crown, while missing, was the head of Stravos' destiny, his claim to lay as soon as the obstacles in his way were eliminated. However, where the horizon was laden with blood and guile alike, the present had its own mounting problems. The Stravos coffers were wilting, the people were suffering and hungry. And most of all, they were inactive. It was Elias' responsibility, before he rose to the throne, to rise back to the occasion of being a lord. Once, he'd been but a baron, ably performing the work and yet... he separated from it. Opportunities were presented to him and squandered, and so, while he toiled and waited... it was time to address what could be rectified more readily.
The guild is restless. The people are hungry... the armies are lacking in their means of transit...
As he'd considered the lofty ambitions of the future, he allowed the present to suffer. So, Elias changed his tact. He isolated himself from his position, freezing the Senate as the matters closer to home were dealt with. With the Stravos (and therefore Elias') nobility restored, the man had but one aim.
Create work. Antonis... Lacides... He could be the answer, the Stravos ruminated. He readied himself, throwing his chiton over his shoulders, allowing it to rest snugly over his toned form as the flowing crimson himation that he favored in his actual (and then self-imposed) exile following it. For a moment, he considered a chlamys, but in the seeing of a true powerhouse within the Athenian military, he reasoned that his mimicry of their code of dress might be seen as disrespectful. The last thing that Elias of Stravos wanted to be seen as was disrespectful. With his reputation in tatters, he was left to recover not merely his status, but his confidence. Blow after blow to both wrenched identity from Elias, and he was left to recover the tattered remnants.
Confident that his look was appropriate, Elias left the royal palati, taking a back route to avoid being seen by common folk. Elias threw his himation over his shoulders, not fully confident that the facade would fool many for long. But, being seen as some anonymous noble was a far better cry than being identified as Elias. His step, unlike the fractured confidence within, was sure. His gait carried him effortlessly from the palace and with time, it was apparent that the architecture grew older and older with his travel. Once the Stravos was within the heart of Archontiko Antonis, he removed the himation from over his head, allowing it to flow over his shoulder and shift with the faint breeze behind him. A set of guards stopped the lord as he entered Antonis territory, and he raised his hands in surrender, his features apparent for them to see.
"Lord Elias. Is there a reason for your visit?" the man on his left asked, keeping his gaze from directly meeting Elias. Though the man wondered why, he had not the time to dally about it. Rather, he answered,
"I need to see your master. Where is Lacides of Antonis?" he asked, allowing some of the impatience to imbue the matter with a sense of urgency. While the guard made it clear that Lacides wasn't present, Elias made an effort to pry. He should've known better than to make an unannounced house call, but there had to be someone he could bring his propositions to.
"And what about Mateos?" he asked, unwilling to take his loss of time at face value.
Vasia had been reading, attempting to find some distraction within the confines of the Antonis Manor. There had been so much unrest lately that her father was less comfortable with his only daughter moving about the city as freely as she usually did, and as a token gesture she had agreed that she would not attend the lecture at the University today as all her brothers were busy, and Lacides himself called away to deal with some issue unexpectedly.
Which left Vasia trying to entertain herself at home, no small feat. She was not, had never been, much of a fan of the pursuits deemed seemly for those of the fairer sex. It was not that she could not find some pleasure in the arts because she could. But having been raised amongst three brothers, she also had some appreciation for those things that fell outside the sphere of ‘expected’ of young ladies, and there was only so much sewing that one could endure before it became tedious.
When the servant knocked on the door and announced that the Lord Elias of Stravos had presented himself at the manor asking for her father and then eldest brother, one fine brow arched in curiosity. Surely the man had no such appointment? Vasia knew her father and he was not one to forget an arrangement, nor walk out on one without sending word. Mateos even less so. Which meant that the Lord Elias was calling unannounced and that piqued her interest. In one smooth movement, the blonde set down the parchment she had been looking at and rose from the klismos she sat upon. There was a moment to smooth the creases from the jade green peplos that she wore, and then Vasia gave a small smile and a tilt of her head.
“If he has come all this way Petre then it would be ungracious of me not to receive him, would it not? Lord Lacides will not be long I am certain. You may show him in”
The Lord Elias of Stravos. A man who had successfully mired himself controversy, dragged his House through the dirt with it. Vasia had to applaud his temerity in presenting himself so. There was no animosity between their families per se, indeed there had been and still were business dealings between Antonis and Stravos. But recent events had perhaps unsettled what had been a steady and cordial relationship. It was an underscoring of the reservations she knew her Father held about the Stravos line - without honour, driven by unnecessary thirst for power. And Lord Elias? Well he had placed himself right at the centre of it. Interesting. She stood by the window, playing idly with the pendant that hung at her throat as she considered it.
Outside, the servant spoke quietly to one of the guards who barred the Lord’s way, and with a nod, the man returned his gaze to Elias. “The Lady Vasia will receive you, my Lord.” And Elias was led through the courtyard of the manor, past the fountain and the cyclamen and olive trees and through into the cooler shade of the building, toward the solar room that overlooked the grounds he had just passed through.
“The Lord Elias of Stravos, my lady” The servant who announced him moved swiftly aside to permit the Stravos Lord entry, and he was met with a gentle smile of welcome from the Antonis lady. Vasia turned from her position by the window and gave the man a nod. He was, admittedly, a fine cut figure of a man, she accepted grudgingly, but Vasia knew enough of what lay beneath that gilded veneer not to let her head be turned by such shallow beauty.
“My Lord Elias. What an unexpected pleasure. I’m afraid the General was called away early this morn, but we expect him back before too long. I do hope he didn’t forget an engagement that the two of you had arranged?” She knew of course, that her father had done no such thing, but laid it out so the Lord might explain his presence.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Vasia had been reading, attempting to find some distraction within the confines of the Antonis Manor. There had been so much unrest lately that her father was less comfortable with his only daughter moving about the city as freely as she usually did, and as a token gesture she had agreed that she would not attend the lecture at the University today as all her brothers were busy, and Lacides himself called away to deal with some issue unexpectedly.
Which left Vasia trying to entertain herself at home, no small feat. She was not, had never been, much of a fan of the pursuits deemed seemly for those of the fairer sex. It was not that she could not find some pleasure in the arts because she could. But having been raised amongst three brothers, she also had some appreciation for those things that fell outside the sphere of ‘expected’ of young ladies, and there was only so much sewing that one could endure before it became tedious.
When the servant knocked on the door and announced that the Lord Elias of Stravos had presented himself at the manor asking for her father and then eldest brother, one fine brow arched in curiosity. Surely the man had no such appointment? Vasia knew her father and he was not one to forget an arrangement, nor walk out on one without sending word. Mateos even less so. Which meant that the Lord Elias was calling unannounced and that piqued her interest. In one smooth movement, the blonde set down the parchment she had been looking at and rose from the klismos she sat upon. There was a moment to smooth the creases from the jade green peplos that she wore, and then Vasia gave a small smile and a tilt of her head.
“If he has come all this way Petre then it would be ungracious of me not to receive him, would it not? Lord Lacides will not be long I am certain. You may show him in”
The Lord Elias of Stravos. A man who had successfully mired himself controversy, dragged his House through the dirt with it. Vasia had to applaud his temerity in presenting himself so. There was no animosity between their families per se, indeed there had been and still were business dealings between Antonis and Stravos. But recent events had perhaps unsettled what had been a steady and cordial relationship. It was an underscoring of the reservations she knew her Father held about the Stravos line - without honour, driven by unnecessary thirst for power. And Lord Elias? Well he had placed himself right at the centre of it. Interesting. She stood by the window, playing idly with the pendant that hung at her throat as she considered it.
Outside, the servant spoke quietly to one of the guards who barred the Lord’s way, and with a nod, the man returned his gaze to Elias. “The Lady Vasia will receive you, my Lord.” And Elias was led through the courtyard of the manor, past the fountain and the cyclamen and olive trees and through into the cooler shade of the building, toward the solar room that overlooked the grounds he had just passed through.
“The Lord Elias of Stravos, my lady” The servant who announced him moved swiftly aside to permit the Stravos Lord entry, and he was met with a gentle smile of welcome from the Antonis lady. Vasia turned from her position by the window and gave the man a nod. He was, admittedly, a fine cut figure of a man, she accepted grudgingly, but Vasia knew enough of what lay beneath that gilded veneer not to let her head be turned by such shallow beauty.
“My Lord Elias. What an unexpected pleasure. I’m afraid the General was called away early this morn, but we expect him back before too long. I do hope he didn’t forget an engagement that the two of you had arranged?” She knew of course, that her father had done no such thing, but laid it out so the Lord might explain his presence.
Vasia had been reading, attempting to find some distraction within the confines of the Antonis Manor. There had been so much unrest lately that her father was less comfortable with his only daughter moving about the city as freely as she usually did, and as a token gesture she had agreed that she would not attend the lecture at the University today as all her brothers were busy, and Lacides himself called away to deal with some issue unexpectedly.
Which left Vasia trying to entertain herself at home, no small feat. She was not, had never been, much of a fan of the pursuits deemed seemly for those of the fairer sex. It was not that she could not find some pleasure in the arts because she could. But having been raised amongst three brothers, she also had some appreciation for those things that fell outside the sphere of ‘expected’ of young ladies, and there was only so much sewing that one could endure before it became tedious.
When the servant knocked on the door and announced that the Lord Elias of Stravos had presented himself at the manor asking for her father and then eldest brother, one fine brow arched in curiosity. Surely the man had no such appointment? Vasia knew her father and he was not one to forget an arrangement, nor walk out on one without sending word. Mateos even less so. Which meant that the Lord Elias was calling unannounced and that piqued her interest. In one smooth movement, the blonde set down the parchment she had been looking at and rose from the klismos she sat upon. There was a moment to smooth the creases from the jade green peplos that she wore, and then Vasia gave a small smile and a tilt of her head.
“If he has come all this way Petre then it would be ungracious of me not to receive him, would it not? Lord Lacides will not be long I am certain. You may show him in”
The Lord Elias of Stravos. A man who had successfully mired himself controversy, dragged his House through the dirt with it. Vasia had to applaud his temerity in presenting himself so. There was no animosity between their families per se, indeed there had been and still were business dealings between Antonis and Stravos. But recent events had perhaps unsettled what had been a steady and cordial relationship. It was an underscoring of the reservations she knew her Father held about the Stravos line - without honour, driven by unnecessary thirst for power. And Lord Elias? Well he had placed himself right at the centre of it. Interesting. She stood by the window, playing idly with the pendant that hung at her throat as she considered it.
Outside, the servant spoke quietly to one of the guards who barred the Lord’s way, and with a nod, the man returned his gaze to Elias. “The Lady Vasia will receive you, my Lord.” And Elias was led through the courtyard of the manor, past the fountain and the cyclamen and olive trees and through into the cooler shade of the building, toward the solar room that overlooked the grounds he had just passed through.
“The Lord Elias of Stravos, my lady” The servant who announced him moved swiftly aside to permit the Stravos Lord entry, and he was met with a gentle smile of welcome from the Antonis lady. Vasia turned from her position by the window and gave the man a nod. He was, admittedly, a fine cut figure of a man, she accepted grudgingly, but Vasia knew enough of what lay beneath that gilded veneer not to let her head be turned by such shallow beauty.
“My Lord Elias. What an unexpected pleasure. I’m afraid the General was called away early this morn, but we expect him back before too long. I do hope he didn’t forget an engagement that the two of you had arranged?” She knew of course, that her father had done no such thing, but laid it out so the Lord might explain his presence.
Impatience had its habit of welling within the head of Stravos house. Born into the at-the-time growing superpower that was the Stravos house, Elias wanted for nothing, and yet... he craved everything. Greed was satisfied at every turn, and as Elias grew into adulthood and the impeccable beauty that so many considered bestowed upon him by the gods... the notion only grew more prevalent. It was so ingrained into his mind that the past few months had been the most trying, identify-fracturing weeks of his life. Constantly, Elias of Stravos battled with his sense of self, narcissism meeting the logical truth that his decrees weren't always the ideal. T
his rearing of his, however, made him completely livid when the most mundane of his efforts were thwarted. It hadn't crossed the man's mind that both Lacides and Mateos would be busy. Elias found the chaos of the times leaving the lord and ladies of Athenia in their homes. Crime plagued the streets, and while for many this impeded the lives of the aristocratic, the head of Stravos found it his liberation.
I know where these people will be. I can find them in their own territories and influence them to adhere to my will.
The idea worked in theory, but for men with such an active role in the defense of Athenia, perhaps the judgment was misplaced. He lamented his foolishness, but even as the guards kept Elias from advancing, he could see the figure in the distance. The visage of Vasia of Antonis was one he knew, though, perhaps, not as well as he might've liked. Lacides' daughter was a number of years older than Elias and even his unwed elder sister, Chara. She wasn't by any means an old woman, but she was an oddity.
But a lovely oddity nonetheless.
Elias didn't hide the admiration in his gaze, those honeyed hues glazing over the woman from the distance as she admitted him to enter the Antonis property. Elias stepped past the guards with a familiar air of grace. He held his head high, easily catching up to Vasia as she showed him into the place. Elias listened to the tone that Vasia used. Her words, though polite, bred of hollowness to them.
Elias knew that Antonis was an ally of sorts, the House more hesitant to his ends than he'd like, but nonetheless a very profitable ally to have. While Vasia's position wasn't the most relevant to that business partnership, nonetheless he found himself captivated by her presence. An easy smile caught upon the Stravos' lips. He shook his head at her inquiry, an easy chuckle escaping his lips. A very real flustered imbuement rested within the tone of his laughter as he shook his head,
"Perhaps, when I began my trek here, I was under the impression that we did. However, if Lacides isn't here, it's more likely that I was wrong than he was."
Elias sought to instill the proper respect within his words, his tone deflecting from embarrassment back to allowing honey to suffuse within the low baritone."My business with Lacides isn't of critical importance, though with... recent events, I've felt the need to escape from the palace. There are matters that ask for a personal touch, and I'd very much like to enquire with Lacides as to some work for the guildsmen," While Elias believed staunchly in the power of lies, the truth, when it was fair to divulge, often held a more powerful effect. Elias chuckled, still showing some of his embarrassment as a hand rose up to scratch at the back of his head.
"I could leave, if you'd prefer. Come back another day. If my company is acceptable, Vasia, I'd much prefer if I could stay and wait for him. Maybe we can reminisce about simpler times," he offered, only partially in jest.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Impatience had its habit of welling within the head of Stravos house. Born into the at-the-time growing superpower that was the Stravos house, Elias wanted for nothing, and yet... he craved everything. Greed was satisfied at every turn, and as Elias grew into adulthood and the impeccable beauty that so many considered bestowed upon him by the gods... the notion only grew more prevalent. It was so ingrained into his mind that the past few months had been the most trying, identify-fracturing weeks of his life. Constantly, Elias of Stravos battled with his sense of self, narcissism meeting the logical truth that his decrees weren't always the ideal. T
his rearing of his, however, made him completely livid when the most mundane of his efforts were thwarted. It hadn't crossed the man's mind that both Lacides and Mateos would be busy. Elias found the chaos of the times leaving the lord and ladies of Athenia in their homes. Crime plagued the streets, and while for many this impeded the lives of the aristocratic, the head of Stravos found it his liberation.
I know where these people will be. I can find them in their own territories and influence them to adhere to my will.
The idea worked in theory, but for men with such an active role in the defense of Athenia, perhaps the judgment was misplaced. He lamented his foolishness, but even as the guards kept Elias from advancing, he could see the figure in the distance. The visage of Vasia of Antonis was one he knew, though, perhaps, not as well as he might've liked. Lacides' daughter was a number of years older than Elias and even his unwed elder sister, Chara. She wasn't by any means an old woman, but she was an oddity.
But a lovely oddity nonetheless.
Elias didn't hide the admiration in his gaze, those honeyed hues glazing over the woman from the distance as she admitted him to enter the Antonis property. Elias stepped past the guards with a familiar air of grace. He held his head high, easily catching up to Vasia as she showed him into the place. Elias listened to the tone that Vasia used. Her words, though polite, bred of hollowness to them.
Elias knew that Antonis was an ally of sorts, the House more hesitant to his ends than he'd like, but nonetheless a very profitable ally to have. While Vasia's position wasn't the most relevant to that business partnership, nonetheless he found himself captivated by her presence. An easy smile caught upon the Stravos' lips. He shook his head at her inquiry, an easy chuckle escaping his lips. A very real flustered imbuement rested within the tone of his laughter as he shook his head,
"Perhaps, when I began my trek here, I was under the impression that we did. However, if Lacides isn't here, it's more likely that I was wrong than he was."
Elias sought to instill the proper respect within his words, his tone deflecting from embarrassment back to allowing honey to suffuse within the low baritone."My business with Lacides isn't of critical importance, though with... recent events, I've felt the need to escape from the palace. There are matters that ask for a personal touch, and I'd very much like to enquire with Lacides as to some work for the guildsmen," While Elias believed staunchly in the power of lies, the truth, when it was fair to divulge, often held a more powerful effect. Elias chuckled, still showing some of his embarrassment as a hand rose up to scratch at the back of his head.
"I could leave, if you'd prefer. Come back another day. If my company is acceptable, Vasia, I'd much prefer if I could stay and wait for him. Maybe we can reminisce about simpler times," he offered, only partially in jest.
Impatience had its habit of welling within the head of Stravos house. Born into the at-the-time growing superpower that was the Stravos house, Elias wanted for nothing, and yet... he craved everything. Greed was satisfied at every turn, and as Elias grew into adulthood and the impeccable beauty that so many considered bestowed upon him by the gods... the notion only grew more prevalent. It was so ingrained into his mind that the past few months had been the most trying, identify-fracturing weeks of his life. Constantly, Elias of Stravos battled with his sense of self, narcissism meeting the logical truth that his decrees weren't always the ideal. T
his rearing of his, however, made him completely livid when the most mundane of his efforts were thwarted. It hadn't crossed the man's mind that both Lacides and Mateos would be busy. Elias found the chaos of the times leaving the lord and ladies of Athenia in their homes. Crime plagued the streets, and while for many this impeded the lives of the aristocratic, the head of Stravos found it his liberation.
I know where these people will be. I can find them in their own territories and influence them to adhere to my will.
The idea worked in theory, but for men with such an active role in the defense of Athenia, perhaps the judgment was misplaced. He lamented his foolishness, but even as the guards kept Elias from advancing, he could see the figure in the distance. The visage of Vasia of Antonis was one he knew, though, perhaps, not as well as he might've liked. Lacides' daughter was a number of years older than Elias and even his unwed elder sister, Chara. She wasn't by any means an old woman, but she was an oddity.
But a lovely oddity nonetheless.
Elias didn't hide the admiration in his gaze, those honeyed hues glazing over the woman from the distance as she admitted him to enter the Antonis property. Elias stepped past the guards with a familiar air of grace. He held his head high, easily catching up to Vasia as she showed him into the place. Elias listened to the tone that Vasia used. Her words, though polite, bred of hollowness to them.
Elias knew that Antonis was an ally of sorts, the House more hesitant to his ends than he'd like, but nonetheless a very profitable ally to have. While Vasia's position wasn't the most relevant to that business partnership, nonetheless he found himself captivated by her presence. An easy smile caught upon the Stravos' lips. He shook his head at her inquiry, an easy chuckle escaping his lips. A very real flustered imbuement rested within the tone of his laughter as he shook his head,
"Perhaps, when I began my trek here, I was under the impression that we did. However, if Lacides isn't here, it's more likely that I was wrong than he was."
Elias sought to instill the proper respect within his words, his tone deflecting from embarrassment back to allowing honey to suffuse within the low baritone."My business with Lacides isn't of critical importance, though with... recent events, I've felt the need to escape from the palace. There are matters that ask for a personal touch, and I'd very much like to enquire with Lacides as to some work for the guildsmen," While Elias believed staunchly in the power of lies, the truth, when it was fair to divulge, often held a more powerful effect. Elias chuckled, still showing some of his embarrassment as a hand rose up to scratch at the back of his head.
"I could leave, if you'd prefer. Come back another day. If my company is acceptable, Vasia, I'd much prefer if I could stay and wait for him. Maybe we can reminisce about simpler times," he offered, only partially in jest.
Vasia let the Lord explain himself, a small smile and a wry arch of a brow at his assertion that it was unlikely to have been her father that had made a mistake regarding their meeting. Because there had been no meeting she mused silently, wondering again what would have led a man as busy as Lord Elias no doubt was to call unannounced on the General. He appeared slightly flustered by the mistake, as it were, and Vasia lifted a hand as if to wave it away. “No harm done other than a waste of your own time, my Lord”
She thought she could well understand a desire to escape the Palati, for the man before her had made himself a rather uncomfortable bed to lie in she was sure. Still, she didn’t think for a moment that it was mere distraction that saw him seek her father. And in the very next breath, the Lord Elias confirmed such thoughts with mention of work, and here the blonde gave a slow nod.
Again, the man before her appeared almost bashful at having imposed upon her, and Vasia had to hand it to him, for he made it terribly easy for her to give an airy laugh and bid him to stay and wait for the General.
“Of course you may wait, my Lord. Will you take some wine? Kykeon?” Lifting a hand, the Antonis lady waved over a servant to bring whatever refreshments their guest required, before turning to sweep a graceful path further into the solar, towards the plush kline that sat at the far end of the room. Her lady’s maid Sophia sat quietly in the corner, busying herself with some needlework but ensuring there was no impropriety about the Lord Stravos’ presence alongside her lady.
Vasia sent the girl a nod and a small smile before she lowered herself to sit upon one of the daybeds, folding her hands lightly in her lap and turning that same smile upon her guest.
“I find there is not much use in reminiscing my Lord, despite how attractive the notion might be to some. There is much more to be said for looking forward than back, would you not agree?” And then, as if she considered her words, she amended them slightly. “Unless of course, one is concerned with studying events past in an attempt to learn from them. That is a pursuit that always has merit.”
And one she dared imagine the man before had perhaps not done as much of as he might ought’ve. It had been an embarrassing debacle in the senate, so she had heard. Her gaze rested upon Lord Elias expectantly, as she left some space for him to show her that he was perhaps more than a terribly pretty face. It would be disappointing if not. Vasia did enjoy those who could match her in wit.
It was one of the reasons she so enjoyed attending the University, where ideas were always being challenged and turned upon their heads. This man though, this handsome face was not one she had ever seen in attendance there, nor ever really spent any time with outside of the confines of court occasions. She found herself oddly eager to settle upon a more informed opinion of Lord Elias of Stravos.
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Vasia let the Lord explain himself, a small smile and a wry arch of a brow at his assertion that it was unlikely to have been her father that had made a mistake regarding their meeting. Because there had been no meeting she mused silently, wondering again what would have led a man as busy as Lord Elias no doubt was to call unannounced on the General. He appeared slightly flustered by the mistake, as it were, and Vasia lifted a hand as if to wave it away. “No harm done other than a waste of your own time, my Lord”
She thought she could well understand a desire to escape the Palati, for the man before her had made himself a rather uncomfortable bed to lie in she was sure. Still, she didn’t think for a moment that it was mere distraction that saw him seek her father. And in the very next breath, the Lord Elias confirmed such thoughts with mention of work, and here the blonde gave a slow nod.
Again, the man before her appeared almost bashful at having imposed upon her, and Vasia had to hand it to him, for he made it terribly easy for her to give an airy laugh and bid him to stay and wait for the General.
“Of course you may wait, my Lord. Will you take some wine? Kykeon?” Lifting a hand, the Antonis lady waved over a servant to bring whatever refreshments their guest required, before turning to sweep a graceful path further into the solar, towards the plush kline that sat at the far end of the room. Her lady’s maid Sophia sat quietly in the corner, busying herself with some needlework but ensuring there was no impropriety about the Lord Stravos’ presence alongside her lady.
Vasia sent the girl a nod and a small smile before she lowered herself to sit upon one of the daybeds, folding her hands lightly in her lap and turning that same smile upon her guest.
“I find there is not much use in reminiscing my Lord, despite how attractive the notion might be to some. There is much more to be said for looking forward than back, would you not agree?” And then, as if she considered her words, she amended them slightly. “Unless of course, one is concerned with studying events past in an attempt to learn from them. That is a pursuit that always has merit.”
And one she dared imagine the man before had perhaps not done as much of as he might ought’ve. It had been an embarrassing debacle in the senate, so she had heard. Her gaze rested upon Lord Elias expectantly, as she left some space for him to show her that he was perhaps more than a terribly pretty face. It would be disappointing if not. Vasia did enjoy those who could match her in wit.
It was one of the reasons she so enjoyed attending the University, where ideas were always being challenged and turned upon their heads. This man though, this handsome face was not one she had ever seen in attendance there, nor ever really spent any time with outside of the confines of court occasions. She found herself oddly eager to settle upon a more informed opinion of Lord Elias of Stravos.
Vasia let the Lord explain himself, a small smile and a wry arch of a brow at his assertion that it was unlikely to have been her father that had made a mistake regarding their meeting. Because there had been no meeting she mused silently, wondering again what would have led a man as busy as Lord Elias no doubt was to call unannounced on the General. He appeared slightly flustered by the mistake, as it were, and Vasia lifted a hand as if to wave it away. “No harm done other than a waste of your own time, my Lord”
She thought she could well understand a desire to escape the Palati, for the man before her had made himself a rather uncomfortable bed to lie in she was sure. Still, she didn’t think for a moment that it was mere distraction that saw him seek her father. And in the very next breath, the Lord Elias confirmed such thoughts with mention of work, and here the blonde gave a slow nod.
Again, the man before her appeared almost bashful at having imposed upon her, and Vasia had to hand it to him, for he made it terribly easy for her to give an airy laugh and bid him to stay and wait for the General.
“Of course you may wait, my Lord. Will you take some wine? Kykeon?” Lifting a hand, the Antonis lady waved over a servant to bring whatever refreshments their guest required, before turning to sweep a graceful path further into the solar, towards the plush kline that sat at the far end of the room. Her lady’s maid Sophia sat quietly in the corner, busying herself with some needlework but ensuring there was no impropriety about the Lord Stravos’ presence alongside her lady.
Vasia sent the girl a nod and a small smile before she lowered herself to sit upon one of the daybeds, folding her hands lightly in her lap and turning that same smile upon her guest.
“I find there is not much use in reminiscing my Lord, despite how attractive the notion might be to some. There is much more to be said for looking forward than back, would you not agree?” And then, as if she considered her words, she amended them slightly. “Unless of course, one is concerned with studying events past in an attempt to learn from them. That is a pursuit that always has merit.”
And one she dared imagine the man before had perhaps not done as much of as he might ought’ve. It had been an embarrassing debacle in the senate, so she had heard. Her gaze rested upon Lord Elias expectantly, as she left some space for him to show her that he was perhaps more than a terribly pretty face. It would be disappointing if not. Vasia did enjoy those who could match her in wit.
It was one of the reasons she so enjoyed attending the University, where ideas were always being challenged and turned upon their heads. This man though, this handsome face was not one she had ever seen in attendance there, nor ever really spent any time with outside of the confines of court occasions. She found herself oddly eager to settle upon a more informed opinion of Lord Elias of Stravos.
It was better for Elias of Stravos to be the one to waste his time than anyone else. At the very least, he could forgive himself for that transgression. Of course, Elias knew that there was no arranged meeting. To get away from the palace for a time while still justifying his venture was his only reason for leaving. He held a sliver of hope that Lacides would be present, that the general wasn't busy in the earlier hours of the morning. But, perhaps, Elias miscalculated.
Not that it's a complete waste of time, he reasoned, his gaze kept discrete as he allowed it to fall along the breadth of Vasia's visage. Again, he found himself curious, as to how such a beauty could be so long without a proper suitor. Perhaps, behind the guise of the perfect hostess, she was an elitist? Or a bitch? Elias could see none of it at the moment. Instead, he offered the Antonis lady a smile, which spread wider across his handsome features as he mused aloud, a coy tone seeping into his words,
"Surely, you aren't trying to get me drunk?" He winked at the woman, a short, low chuckle parting his lips before he said, "I jest, of course. I'd love some kykeon."
Elias strove to keep public perception of his misdeeds and personal associations quite distinct. Elias' reputation was tragically misinformed in his own eyes, those that believed in his so-called treason so very wrong in their assertions. He listened again to Vasia as she went into her reasoning. There was plenty of cause for reminiscing to be distasteful, though often enough in the harsher times, those with fonder memories preferred to indulge in the healthy bit of nostalgia. He sat back in his offered chair, his honey-colored hues keeping to Vasia's face. She was right, but in a way that brought the Stravos to disagree with her.
"I find that having one eye on the past is an asset, actually. As you pointed out, learning from one's own mistakes and those of their fellows is an undeniable asset. But, there is always a cause to look back. Be it for deference to tradition," he began, his thoughts clouded with the power-bidden laws that Persephone once brought to the Senate. Laws that were approved due to nepotism and Xanthos manipulations. "Be it for adherence to obligations," he went on, considering his duty. He considered his obligation to the people - both of Lyncestia and the whole of Athenia itself. Then, he mused upon his obligations to himself. Of course, to Elias, such obligations were the most important. His desire for power and his desire for the accolades that power brought.
"Or for the bit of proof of the presence of the Gods in our lives, yes? Surely, there are many reasons to reminisce if one is so inclined to find them."
Elias quite enjoyed conversation, particularly the chatter that could be found in those nearing his own age. Too often, Elias was stuck talking to those with one foot already in the grave; the old and those clinging to power best given to those who could lord over it for much longer. The youth of Athenia held their own stores of promise. Or at the very least, some of them did.
"However, if you'd prefer to remain in the sphere of the present, I'd be happy to do so, as well."
In the midst of Elias' musings, he'd failed to notice the servants doting over him. In their hands, the servant held kykeon and wine both, with mugs for the pair. They kept their distance, presumably waiting to be acknowledged or called upon. Elias gladly requested kykeon, and took a mug of it. Immediately, he sought to take a sip, tipping back into his chair as his gaze found Vasia once more.
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It was better for Elias of Stravos to be the one to waste his time than anyone else. At the very least, he could forgive himself for that transgression. Of course, Elias knew that there was no arranged meeting. To get away from the palace for a time while still justifying his venture was his only reason for leaving. He held a sliver of hope that Lacides would be present, that the general wasn't busy in the earlier hours of the morning. But, perhaps, Elias miscalculated.
Not that it's a complete waste of time, he reasoned, his gaze kept discrete as he allowed it to fall along the breadth of Vasia's visage. Again, he found himself curious, as to how such a beauty could be so long without a proper suitor. Perhaps, behind the guise of the perfect hostess, she was an elitist? Or a bitch? Elias could see none of it at the moment. Instead, he offered the Antonis lady a smile, which spread wider across his handsome features as he mused aloud, a coy tone seeping into his words,
"Surely, you aren't trying to get me drunk?" He winked at the woman, a short, low chuckle parting his lips before he said, "I jest, of course. I'd love some kykeon."
Elias strove to keep public perception of his misdeeds and personal associations quite distinct. Elias' reputation was tragically misinformed in his own eyes, those that believed in his so-called treason so very wrong in their assertions. He listened again to Vasia as she went into her reasoning. There was plenty of cause for reminiscing to be distasteful, though often enough in the harsher times, those with fonder memories preferred to indulge in the healthy bit of nostalgia. He sat back in his offered chair, his honey-colored hues keeping to Vasia's face. She was right, but in a way that brought the Stravos to disagree with her.
"I find that having one eye on the past is an asset, actually. As you pointed out, learning from one's own mistakes and those of their fellows is an undeniable asset. But, there is always a cause to look back. Be it for deference to tradition," he began, his thoughts clouded with the power-bidden laws that Persephone once brought to the Senate. Laws that were approved due to nepotism and Xanthos manipulations. "Be it for adherence to obligations," he went on, considering his duty. He considered his obligation to the people - both of Lyncestia and the whole of Athenia itself. Then, he mused upon his obligations to himself. Of course, to Elias, such obligations were the most important. His desire for power and his desire for the accolades that power brought.
"Or for the bit of proof of the presence of the Gods in our lives, yes? Surely, there are many reasons to reminisce if one is so inclined to find them."
Elias quite enjoyed conversation, particularly the chatter that could be found in those nearing his own age. Too often, Elias was stuck talking to those with one foot already in the grave; the old and those clinging to power best given to those who could lord over it for much longer. The youth of Athenia held their own stores of promise. Or at the very least, some of them did.
"However, if you'd prefer to remain in the sphere of the present, I'd be happy to do so, as well."
In the midst of Elias' musings, he'd failed to notice the servants doting over him. In their hands, the servant held kykeon and wine both, with mugs for the pair. They kept their distance, presumably waiting to be acknowledged or called upon. Elias gladly requested kykeon, and took a mug of it. Immediately, he sought to take a sip, tipping back into his chair as his gaze found Vasia once more.
It was better for Elias of Stravos to be the one to waste his time than anyone else. At the very least, he could forgive himself for that transgression. Of course, Elias knew that there was no arranged meeting. To get away from the palace for a time while still justifying his venture was his only reason for leaving. He held a sliver of hope that Lacides would be present, that the general wasn't busy in the earlier hours of the morning. But, perhaps, Elias miscalculated.
Not that it's a complete waste of time, he reasoned, his gaze kept discrete as he allowed it to fall along the breadth of Vasia's visage. Again, he found himself curious, as to how such a beauty could be so long without a proper suitor. Perhaps, behind the guise of the perfect hostess, she was an elitist? Or a bitch? Elias could see none of it at the moment. Instead, he offered the Antonis lady a smile, which spread wider across his handsome features as he mused aloud, a coy tone seeping into his words,
"Surely, you aren't trying to get me drunk?" He winked at the woman, a short, low chuckle parting his lips before he said, "I jest, of course. I'd love some kykeon."
Elias strove to keep public perception of his misdeeds and personal associations quite distinct. Elias' reputation was tragically misinformed in his own eyes, those that believed in his so-called treason so very wrong in their assertions. He listened again to Vasia as she went into her reasoning. There was plenty of cause for reminiscing to be distasteful, though often enough in the harsher times, those with fonder memories preferred to indulge in the healthy bit of nostalgia. He sat back in his offered chair, his honey-colored hues keeping to Vasia's face. She was right, but in a way that brought the Stravos to disagree with her.
"I find that having one eye on the past is an asset, actually. As you pointed out, learning from one's own mistakes and those of their fellows is an undeniable asset. But, there is always a cause to look back. Be it for deference to tradition," he began, his thoughts clouded with the power-bidden laws that Persephone once brought to the Senate. Laws that were approved due to nepotism and Xanthos manipulations. "Be it for adherence to obligations," he went on, considering his duty. He considered his obligation to the people - both of Lyncestia and the whole of Athenia itself. Then, he mused upon his obligations to himself. Of course, to Elias, such obligations were the most important. His desire for power and his desire for the accolades that power brought.
"Or for the bit of proof of the presence of the Gods in our lives, yes? Surely, there are many reasons to reminisce if one is so inclined to find them."
Elias quite enjoyed conversation, particularly the chatter that could be found in those nearing his own age. Too often, Elias was stuck talking to those with one foot already in the grave; the old and those clinging to power best given to those who could lord over it for much longer. The youth of Athenia held their own stores of promise. Or at the very least, some of them did.
"However, if you'd prefer to remain in the sphere of the present, I'd be happy to do so, as well."
In the midst of Elias' musings, he'd failed to notice the servants doting over him. In their hands, the servant held kykeon and wine both, with mugs for the pair. They kept their distance, presumably waiting to be acknowledged or called upon. Elias gladly requested kykeon, and took a mug of it. Immediately, he sought to take a sip, tipping back into his chair as his gaze found Vasia once more.
Vasia levelled her cool blue gaze upon the Lord Elias,the brief press of her lips almost disappointed. Was he flirting? Was that the extent of the famed lothario’s efforts?. She hoped not, but decided that she would reserve her jugement for now, brows flicking upwards almost imperceptably.
“Kykeon you shall have then my Lord” she answered smoothly, giving a nod to the servant who hovered like a shadow in the doorway. “ And perhaps a platter of fruit, Lysander?” Vasia watched as the man left them to retrieve such refreshments. Let it not be said the Antonis Household did not extend courtesy to their guests. Even those uninvited ones.
But then the blonde gave her full attention to Lord Elias as he both accepted and denied her viewpoint on nostalgia, almost in the same breath. Deference to tradition? That had the ghost of a smile appear, because Vasia could well enough be rid of many things that his their ignorance under the banner of tradition. She waited to hear what else the Lord had to add though, allowing his words to settle and permeate. She leant back slightly against the raised end of the kline, one hand cupping her elbow whilst the other twisted idly at the opal that hung at her throat.
Vasia of Antonis had enough reason not to want to let her thoughts linger in the past. A childhood cut short by the death of her beloved Mother had cast a shadow, stolen the light from those tumultous years afterwards when the family had tried to find some balance without her. Yet equally, there was comfort to be found now in those memories that the blonde could recall, so she could not be entirely dismissive of the Lord’s sentiment, though she was quite certain his reasoning was not akin to hers. Sitting forwards again as she saw the servant Lysander approach she accepted the cup of wine only after the Lord had been served, gestured for the bronze platter of cut fruit to be set down on the small table between them. There were figs, deep purple and split to reveal the sweet flesh within, and persimmons and grapes crowding the etched metal of the plate. Vasia plucked a grape between her fingers and toyed with it thoughtfully before she deigned to respond to her guest’s words.
“Perhaps you are right, Lord Elias. Certainly it would be foolhardy in the extreme to disregard that which makes us as we are today. And I am sure there are many things easier to speak of than the troubles that have beset our fine city of late. Tell me how your family are faring?”
She popped the grape into her mouth and looked upon him expectantly. Her subject of choice seemed harmless enough, but Vasia had heard whispers that there was..discontent..within the Stravos family, and she wondered how well the Lord Elias would keep his smooth and admittedly charming mask in place when he was asked to speak on such things.
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Vasia levelled her cool blue gaze upon the Lord Elias,the brief press of her lips almost disappointed. Was he flirting? Was that the extent of the famed lothario’s efforts?. She hoped not, but decided that she would reserve her jugement for now, brows flicking upwards almost imperceptably.
“Kykeon you shall have then my Lord” she answered smoothly, giving a nod to the servant who hovered like a shadow in the doorway. “ And perhaps a platter of fruit, Lysander?” Vasia watched as the man left them to retrieve such refreshments. Let it not be said the Antonis Household did not extend courtesy to their guests. Even those uninvited ones.
But then the blonde gave her full attention to Lord Elias as he both accepted and denied her viewpoint on nostalgia, almost in the same breath. Deference to tradition? That had the ghost of a smile appear, because Vasia could well enough be rid of many things that his their ignorance under the banner of tradition. She waited to hear what else the Lord had to add though, allowing his words to settle and permeate. She leant back slightly against the raised end of the kline, one hand cupping her elbow whilst the other twisted idly at the opal that hung at her throat.
Vasia of Antonis had enough reason not to want to let her thoughts linger in the past. A childhood cut short by the death of her beloved Mother had cast a shadow, stolen the light from those tumultous years afterwards when the family had tried to find some balance without her. Yet equally, there was comfort to be found now in those memories that the blonde could recall, so she could not be entirely dismissive of the Lord’s sentiment, though she was quite certain his reasoning was not akin to hers. Sitting forwards again as she saw the servant Lysander approach she accepted the cup of wine only after the Lord had been served, gestured for the bronze platter of cut fruit to be set down on the small table between them. There were figs, deep purple and split to reveal the sweet flesh within, and persimmons and grapes crowding the etched metal of the plate. Vasia plucked a grape between her fingers and toyed with it thoughtfully before she deigned to respond to her guest’s words.
“Perhaps you are right, Lord Elias. Certainly it would be foolhardy in the extreme to disregard that which makes us as we are today. And I am sure there are many things easier to speak of than the troubles that have beset our fine city of late. Tell me how your family are faring?”
She popped the grape into her mouth and looked upon him expectantly. Her subject of choice seemed harmless enough, but Vasia had heard whispers that there was..discontent..within the Stravos family, and she wondered how well the Lord Elias would keep his smooth and admittedly charming mask in place when he was asked to speak on such things.
Vasia levelled her cool blue gaze upon the Lord Elias,the brief press of her lips almost disappointed. Was he flirting? Was that the extent of the famed lothario’s efforts?. She hoped not, but decided that she would reserve her jugement for now, brows flicking upwards almost imperceptably.
“Kykeon you shall have then my Lord” she answered smoothly, giving a nod to the servant who hovered like a shadow in the doorway. “ And perhaps a platter of fruit, Lysander?” Vasia watched as the man left them to retrieve such refreshments. Let it not be said the Antonis Household did not extend courtesy to their guests. Even those uninvited ones.
But then the blonde gave her full attention to Lord Elias as he both accepted and denied her viewpoint on nostalgia, almost in the same breath. Deference to tradition? That had the ghost of a smile appear, because Vasia could well enough be rid of many things that his their ignorance under the banner of tradition. She waited to hear what else the Lord had to add though, allowing his words to settle and permeate. She leant back slightly against the raised end of the kline, one hand cupping her elbow whilst the other twisted idly at the opal that hung at her throat.
Vasia of Antonis had enough reason not to want to let her thoughts linger in the past. A childhood cut short by the death of her beloved Mother had cast a shadow, stolen the light from those tumultous years afterwards when the family had tried to find some balance without her. Yet equally, there was comfort to be found now in those memories that the blonde could recall, so she could not be entirely dismissive of the Lord’s sentiment, though she was quite certain his reasoning was not akin to hers. Sitting forwards again as she saw the servant Lysander approach she accepted the cup of wine only after the Lord had been served, gestured for the bronze platter of cut fruit to be set down on the small table between them. There were figs, deep purple and split to reveal the sweet flesh within, and persimmons and grapes crowding the etched metal of the plate. Vasia plucked a grape between her fingers and toyed with it thoughtfully before she deigned to respond to her guest’s words.
“Perhaps you are right, Lord Elias. Certainly it would be foolhardy in the extreme to disregard that which makes us as we are today. And I am sure there are many things easier to speak of than the troubles that have beset our fine city of late. Tell me how your family are faring?”
She popped the grape into her mouth and looked upon him expectantly. Her subject of choice seemed harmless enough, but Vasia had heard whispers that there was..discontent..within the Stravos family, and she wondered how well the Lord Elias would keep his smooth and admittedly charming mask in place when he was asked to speak on such things.
Careful was the gaze that leveled upon Vasia of Antonis. There was a craft in pursuit, and though Elias found himself intrigued, there was a reputation to consider. The dealings Elias held with the Antonis family were tenuous at best, and even with their lone female child, some modicum of respect needed to manifest. However, was there a hint of disappointment there? A subtle shift of expression, one that Elias absorbed, his gaze never straying away from the Antonis. 'My lord.' While it was the appropriate title to bless Vasia's lips, it was always a pleasure to hear. How Elias reveled in his nobility, the titles and accolades that only blood or marriage could bestow. It fed the voracious ego, the sense of entitlement and superiority that one who's fingers clutched the pulse of Athenia might know. Elias of Stravos went on with his retory, curious enough to listen to how Vasia might interpret his saying. Then, she took a middle ground and asked about his family.
Curious, the Stravos figured as he flirted perhaps too readily with his glass of kykeon. Two sips taken had drained his cup of nearly its entire contents, Elias allowing the smooth mixture to burn pleasantly in his throat. He allowed the feeling to wax along, relishing the taste and pressure of it as he considered the woman's words. Of course, Elias could speak as he might to the people. He could refer to all of Athenia as his family and take great pleasure in the utterance. Such words were deceptions, crafted love letters to a people he cared very little about. Instead of the disingenuous, Elias went with another route. Slowly, Elias leaned back in his chair, fingers sliding about the neck of his glass before that arm rested into the arm of his chair. His fingers of his free hand pressed into the bridge of his nose. The Stravos took a heavy breath before he threw his head back altogether.
"The world's been set on fire, Lady Vasia. The other Stravoses strive to rebuild their empire, and I hope to assist in the rebuilding of Athenia. The family fares poorly," he lamented, withholding the chuckle as he leaned just slightly forward. He let his gaze study Vasia's features just before he continued on,
"It's almost a blessing, you know, to see you instead of Lacides. Fairer company and idle conversation is something I've greatly lamented the loss of. Truly, it's a pleasure to share the day with you, instead." And perhaps the words were more than half true. The Stravos grinned at the Antonis woman, allowing himself to throw some caution to the wind. He raised his glass to drain the remainder of his drink, setting the glass carefully on the floor adjacent to the leg of his chair as he mused,
"If it's not too much to ask, my lady, would you show me around? You see, all of my business with your father and brother has been held outside of this place. It'd be a distinct pleasure to come to know it with you. If, of course, my presence hasn't outlived your impeccable hospitality." The Stravos grinned at Vasia. Slowly, he rose to his feet, picking up his cup and placing it next to the bottle.
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Careful was the gaze that leveled upon Vasia of Antonis. There was a craft in pursuit, and though Elias found himself intrigued, there was a reputation to consider. The dealings Elias held with the Antonis family were tenuous at best, and even with their lone female child, some modicum of respect needed to manifest. However, was there a hint of disappointment there? A subtle shift of expression, one that Elias absorbed, his gaze never straying away from the Antonis. 'My lord.' While it was the appropriate title to bless Vasia's lips, it was always a pleasure to hear. How Elias reveled in his nobility, the titles and accolades that only blood or marriage could bestow. It fed the voracious ego, the sense of entitlement and superiority that one who's fingers clutched the pulse of Athenia might know. Elias of Stravos went on with his retory, curious enough to listen to how Vasia might interpret his saying. Then, she took a middle ground and asked about his family.
Curious, the Stravos figured as he flirted perhaps too readily with his glass of kykeon. Two sips taken had drained his cup of nearly its entire contents, Elias allowing the smooth mixture to burn pleasantly in his throat. He allowed the feeling to wax along, relishing the taste and pressure of it as he considered the woman's words. Of course, Elias could speak as he might to the people. He could refer to all of Athenia as his family and take great pleasure in the utterance. Such words were deceptions, crafted love letters to a people he cared very little about. Instead of the disingenuous, Elias went with another route. Slowly, Elias leaned back in his chair, fingers sliding about the neck of his glass before that arm rested into the arm of his chair. His fingers of his free hand pressed into the bridge of his nose. The Stravos took a heavy breath before he threw his head back altogether.
"The world's been set on fire, Lady Vasia. The other Stravoses strive to rebuild their empire, and I hope to assist in the rebuilding of Athenia. The family fares poorly," he lamented, withholding the chuckle as he leaned just slightly forward. He let his gaze study Vasia's features just before he continued on,
"It's almost a blessing, you know, to see you instead of Lacides. Fairer company and idle conversation is something I've greatly lamented the loss of. Truly, it's a pleasure to share the day with you, instead." And perhaps the words were more than half true. The Stravos grinned at the Antonis woman, allowing himself to throw some caution to the wind. He raised his glass to drain the remainder of his drink, setting the glass carefully on the floor adjacent to the leg of his chair as he mused,
"If it's not too much to ask, my lady, would you show me around? You see, all of my business with your father and brother has been held outside of this place. It'd be a distinct pleasure to come to know it with you. If, of course, my presence hasn't outlived your impeccable hospitality." The Stravos grinned at Vasia. Slowly, he rose to his feet, picking up his cup and placing it next to the bottle.
Careful was the gaze that leveled upon Vasia of Antonis. There was a craft in pursuit, and though Elias found himself intrigued, there was a reputation to consider. The dealings Elias held with the Antonis family were tenuous at best, and even with their lone female child, some modicum of respect needed to manifest. However, was there a hint of disappointment there? A subtle shift of expression, one that Elias absorbed, his gaze never straying away from the Antonis. 'My lord.' While it was the appropriate title to bless Vasia's lips, it was always a pleasure to hear. How Elias reveled in his nobility, the titles and accolades that only blood or marriage could bestow. It fed the voracious ego, the sense of entitlement and superiority that one who's fingers clutched the pulse of Athenia might know. Elias of Stravos went on with his retory, curious enough to listen to how Vasia might interpret his saying. Then, she took a middle ground and asked about his family.
Curious, the Stravos figured as he flirted perhaps too readily with his glass of kykeon. Two sips taken had drained his cup of nearly its entire contents, Elias allowing the smooth mixture to burn pleasantly in his throat. He allowed the feeling to wax along, relishing the taste and pressure of it as he considered the woman's words. Of course, Elias could speak as he might to the people. He could refer to all of Athenia as his family and take great pleasure in the utterance. Such words were deceptions, crafted love letters to a people he cared very little about. Instead of the disingenuous, Elias went with another route. Slowly, Elias leaned back in his chair, fingers sliding about the neck of his glass before that arm rested into the arm of his chair. His fingers of his free hand pressed into the bridge of his nose. The Stravos took a heavy breath before he threw his head back altogether.
"The world's been set on fire, Lady Vasia. The other Stravoses strive to rebuild their empire, and I hope to assist in the rebuilding of Athenia. The family fares poorly," he lamented, withholding the chuckle as he leaned just slightly forward. He let his gaze study Vasia's features just before he continued on,
"It's almost a blessing, you know, to see you instead of Lacides. Fairer company and idle conversation is something I've greatly lamented the loss of. Truly, it's a pleasure to share the day with you, instead." And perhaps the words were more than half true. The Stravos grinned at the Antonis woman, allowing himself to throw some caution to the wind. He raised his glass to drain the remainder of his drink, setting the glass carefully on the floor adjacent to the leg of his chair as he mused,
"If it's not too much to ask, my lady, would you show me around? You see, all of my business with your father and brother has been held outside of this place. It'd be a distinct pleasure to come to know it with you. If, of course, my presence hasn't outlived your impeccable hospitality." The Stravos grinned at Vasia. Slowly, he rose to his feet, picking up his cup and placing it next to the bottle.
The wine was good, cool and crisp, a sharp explosion of flavour against the palate. Sharper than the regard the Antonis Lady fixed upon her guest, a regard that was measured to be exactly no more or less than polite.
He has a flair for the dramatic she observed wryly as Elias pinched his fingers at the bridge of his nose, let his head fall back altogether as if the weight of his words was just too much for his endurance. It was almost amusing, would have been easy to dismiss as petulant and self-indulgent if every expression didn’t lay itself so handsomely across those carved features.
Still, his answer held perhaps a grain of truth hidden amongst his theatrics. She noted how he worded it almost as if he considered himself separate from his family, and put that away for later consideration, tilting her head to the side a little as if she were considering what he had said.
“Well I am sorry to hear that, Lord Elias.” she said, meeting the gaze he settled on her with a direct one of her own. And when he expressed his almost gratitude for being received by her instead of her father, Vasia gave a bright laugh. “I fear if this truly brings you such pleasure my Lord then indeed you have been having a poor time of it.” If small talk and a glass of Kykeon was all it took to impress the Stravos Lord then truly he was an easily pleased man. The blonde woman looked back at him, her lips pursing a moment as she quietned her amusement, before she gave a nod. “Though I will accept the idea that my company is perhaps less...demanding that discussing your business with my father.”
The General was a busy man after all, and he did not tolerate fools or time wasters. So yes, perhaps it was somewhat of a relief to find oneself not in his eyeline. Though it would be foolish of the Stravos Lord to dismiss the man’s daughter as a pretty distraction.
When Elias spoke his desire for a tour, there was a momentary surprise, but the Lady Vasia gave a shrug. It was not, after all, as if she’d had any plans that the man’s presence was interrupting, though she was quite certain he would find little diverting about the Antonis manor. It was a slightly odd request, she thought. And she didn’t miss the emphasis he put once again on the notion of ‘pleasure’, pressing her lips together briefly to suppress the smile that would have shown itself. He was young, she reminded herself, and likely used to similarly young things falling at his feet when he spoke his honeyed words to them.
“You wished to wait for my Father, did you not?” she queried of the Stravos man. “It would hardly be impeccable hospitality if I were to send you away without seeing him now would it? But by all means, I can give you a tour if you so wish, though I am not sure there is anything you will find terribly surprising about our home.”
And when he stood, the woman rose gracefully too, the gathered folds of green silk falling as she drew to her full height. The skin of her shoulders, laid bare beyond the pinned fabric were pale as milk and smooth, with only the faintest smattering of freckles gifted by the sun god where he had smiled upon her. She was otherwise unadorned though, the fibula she wore simple ivory, her arms free of jewellery, the only piece she kept the teardrop opal that hung from a fine chain about her neck. She might have said it was because she was not expecting company, but in truth, Vasia did not find the same diversions in gowns and gold as some others of the female persuasion might. With a glance toward Sophia who stood to join them, the Lady motioned for the Lord Elias to go before her, taking his arm with an unconscious grace as they moved into one of the bright , marble clad hallways of the Antonis manor.
The house wrapped itself around a central courtyard, with the public areas of the building on the eastern side, the families own private quarters on the west. Propriety dictated that they would not venture in that direction on their tour, but Vasia led the Stravos Lord first down towards the library, pausing in the entrance and gesturing for him to go on in if he so wished.
“Are you a reader, my Lord? If so, you might conceivably share tastes with my brothers, though I confess there are far more writings on the art of warfare in here than any other subject”
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The wine was good, cool and crisp, a sharp explosion of flavour against the palate. Sharper than the regard the Antonis Lady fixed upon her guest, a regard that was measured to be exactly no more or less than polite.
He has a flair for the dramatic she observed wryly as Elias pinched his fingers at the bridge of his nose, let his head fall back altogether as if the weight of his words was just too much for his endurance. It was almost amusing, would have been easy to dismiss as petulant and self-indulgent if every expression didn’t lay itself so handsomely across those carved features.
Still, his answer held perhaps a grain of truth hidden amongst his theatrics. She noted how he worded it almost as if he considered himself separate from his family, and put that away for later consideration, tilting her head to the side a little as if she were considering what he had said.
“Well I am sorry to hear that, Lord Elias.” she said, meeting the gaze he settled on her with a direct one of her own. And when he expressed his almost gratitude for being received by her instead of her father, Vasia gave a bright laugh. “I fear if this truly brings you such pleasure my Lord then indeed you have been having a poor time of it.” If small talk and a glass of Kykeon was all it took to impress the Stravos Lord then truly he was an easily pleased man. The blonde woman looked back at him, her lips pursing a moment as she quietned her amusement, before she gave a nod. “Though I will accept the idea that my company is perhaps less...demanding that discussing your business with my father.”
The General was a busy man after all, and he did not tolerate fools or time wasters. So yes, perhaps it was somewhat of a relief to find oneself not in his eyeline. Though it would be foolish of the Stravos Lord to dismiss the man’s daughter as a pretty distraction.
When Elias spoke his desire for a tour, there was a momentary surprise, but the Lady Vasia gave a shrug. It was not, after all, as if she’d had any plans that the man’s presence was interrupting, though she was quite certain he would find little diverting about the Antonis manor. It was a slightly odd request, she thought. And she didn’t miss the emphasis he put once again on the notion of ‘pleasure’, pressing her lips together briefly to suppress the smile that would have shown itself. He was young, she reminded herself, and likely used to similarly young things falling at his feet when he spoke his honeyed words to them.
“You wished to wait for my Father, did you not?” she queried of the Stravos man. “It would hardly be impeccable hospitality if I were to send you away without seeing him now would it? But by all means, I can give you a tour if you so wish, though I am not sure there is anything you will find terribly surprising about our home.”
And when he stood, the woman rose gracefully too, the gathered folds of green silk falling as she drew to her full height. The skin of her shoulders, laid bare beyond the pinned fabric were pale as milk and smooth, with only the faintest smattering of freckles gifted by the sun god where he had smiled upon her. She was otherwise unadorned though, the fibula she wore simple ivory, her arms free of jewellery, the only piece she kept the teardrop opal that hung from a fine chain about her neck. She might have said it was because she was not expecting company, but in truth, Vasia did not find the same diversions in gowns and gold as some others of the female persuasion might. With a glance toward Sophia who stood to join them, the Lady motioned for the Lord Elias to go before her, taking his arm with an unconscious grace as they moved into one of the bright , marble clad hallways of the Antonis manor.
The house wrapped itself around a central courtyard, with the public areas of the building on the eastern side, the families own private quarters on the west. Propriety dictated that they would not venture in that direction on their tour, but Vasia led the Stravos Lord first down towards the library, pausing in the entrance and gesturing for him to go on in if he so wished.
“Are you a reader, my Lord? If so, you might conceivably share tastes with my brothers, though I confess there are far more writings on the art of warfare in here than any other subject”
The wine was good, cool and crisp, a sharp explosion of flavour against the palate. Sharper than the regard the Antonis Lady fixed upon her guest, a regard that was measured to be exactly no more or less than polite.
He has a flair for the dramatic she observed wryly as Elias pinched his fingers at the bridge of his nose, let his head fall back altogether as if the weight of his words was just too much for his endurance. It was almost amusing, would have been easy to dismiss as petulant and self-indulgent if every expression didn’t lay itself so handsomely across those carved features.
Still, his answer held perhaps a grain of truth hidden amongst his theatrics. She noted how he worded it almost as if he considered himself separate from his family, and put that away for later consideration, tilting her head to the side a little as if she were considering what he had said.
“Well I am sorry to hear that, Lord Elias.” she said, meeting the gaze he settled on her with a direct one of her own. And when he expressed his almost gratitude for being received by her instead of her father, Vasia gave a bright laugh. “I fear if this truly brings you such pleasure my Lord then indeed you have been having a poor time of it.” If small talk and a glass of Kykeon was all it took to impress the Stravos Lord then truly he was an easily pleased man. The blonde woman looked back at him, her lips pursing a moment as she quietned her amusement, before she gave a nod. “Though I will accept the idea that my company is perhaps less...demanding that discussing your business with my father.”
The General was a busy man after all, and he did not tolerate fools or time wasters. So yes, perhaps it was somewhat of a relief to find oneself not in his eyeline. Though it would be foolish of the Stravos Lord to dismiss the man’s daughter as a pretty distraction.
When Elias spoke his desire for a tour, there was a momentary surprise, but the Lady Vasia gave a shrug. It was not, after all, as if she’d had any plans that the man’s presence was interrupting, though she was quite certain he would find little diverting about the Antonis manor. It was a slightly odd request, she thought. And she didn’t miss the emphasis he put once again on the notion of ‘pleasure’, pressing her lips together briefly to suppress the smile that would have shown itself. He was young, she reminded herself, and likely used to similarly young things falling at his feet when he spoke his honeyed words to them.
“You wished to wait for my Father, did you not?” she queried of the Stravos man. “It would hardly be impeccable hospitality if I were to send you away without seeing him now would it? But by all means, I can give you a tour if you so wish, though I am not sure there is anything you will find terribly surprising about our home.”
And when he stood, the woman rose gracefully too, the gathered folds of green silk falling as she drew to her full height. The skin of her shoulders, laid bare beyond the pinned fabric were pale as milk and smooth, with only the faintest smattering of freckles gifted by the sun god where he had smiled upon her. She was otherwise unadorned though, the fibula she wore simple ivory, her arms free of jewellery, the only piece she kept the teardrop opal that hung from a fine chain about her neck. She might have said it was because she was not expecting company, but in truth, Vasia did not find the same diversions in gowns and gold as some others of the female persuasion might. With a glance toward Sophia who stood to join them, the Lady motioned for the Lord Elias to go before her, taking his arm with an unconscious grace as they moved into one of the bright , marble clad hallways of the Antonis manor.
The house wrapped itself around a central courtyard, with the public areas of the building on the eastern side, the families own private quarters on the west. Propriety dictated that they would not venture in that direction on their tour, but Vasia led the Stravos Lord first down towards the library, pausing in the entrance and gesturing for him to go on in if he so wished.
“Are you a reader, my Lord? If so, you might conceivably share tastes with my brothers, though I confess there are far more writings on the art of warfare in here than any other subject”
Ostentatious were the mannerisms of the usurper of Athenia, for, in his reverie, he hoped to be contagious. Of course, such tactics differed for any and everyone he might encounter, and to speak to beings of power, Elias adopted an entirely different tactic. A chameleon to the situation, Elias relied on his instinct and the nature of propriety to guide his personality as he meshed himself with the hearts of his constituents. As Elias spoke more and more, he found Vasia's gaze less telling than it'd been just moments before. There was polite neutrality to her look, the Lady clearly quite aware of how to control herself. Elias empathized with the notion, but it was always to his benefit to be ostentatious. The impeccable beauty that came as a package deal with being Elias of Stravos often shielded him from the worst of the consequences, with careful planning intent on buffering what else could arise. His success wasn't always ensured, with recent events as proof, but more often than not, Elias rose to occasions with the intent of conquering them.
"Your condolences are most appreciated, my lady," his honeyed hues meeting squarely with hers. Gazes locked in a most satisfying of ways. Of course, Elias of Stravos didn't mind in the slightest being caught in and catching this woman in an exchange of gazes. Vasia of Antonis surely knew no equal within her family, and Elias decided to make that much clear with his every utterance. After all, how often did he get the chance to rain praises on anyone? Few deserved such words from the Stravos, and perhaps he was starved for the creativity that such praises warranted.
"Of course, I'll have to disagree with you. It's the little pleasures in life that make it worth living. An afternoon with a lovely noblewoman while I wait for her father... well it sounds of a good time," he mused. Elias of Stravos had dealings with Lacides, and though they were often productive, the no-nonsense, militant nature of the man was often at odds with the unrepentant hedonism that buried itself within Elias when such prudish beings took a monopoly on his time. Elias, after all, enjoyed the spectacle in all things, relishing in the moments that led to conquest, to victory, or to glory often more than the benefits of the thing itself.
Once Elias expressed his desire for a tour and it was met with some level of enthusiasm, the Stravos considered her words as he allowed his gaze to roam the tapestry of sun-kissed skin that was Vasia's.The more he looked, the more he seemed to enjoy. The simple act of standing up and the different angles of appreciation given by the occurrence allotted Elias opportunities aplenty to admire the visage that was Vasia. While the Stravos could not consider her an unparalleled beauty within the city, her noble title and the very fact that she didn't simply throw herself at him was an alluring thing in it of itself. Elias was not known to appreciate discernible strength in the character of women, and could never see beings like the women in his own family as mates... but a certain degree of intrigue cast a delicious shadow over every visage that he found himself eager to explore in earnest.
Arm in arm Antonis and Stravos walked, the warmth of her skin melding pleasantly with his own. The Stravos, of course, couldn't help himself. His palm soothed along the skin of her forearm as they walked, with Elias pointedly looking away from the positions of contact as her question broke the momentary silence.
"But, of course. I wouldn't be much of an Athenian if a good book didn't rouse my attention." he answered as the pair entered the library. It was here, at last, that their contact was destined to end. At least, for the moment. Elias pulled away from Vasia, allowing his gaze to run rampant along the worn spines as his feet took him properly into the place. Elias' long legs carried him effortlessly from end to end, a heavy curiosity as he considered the library. Most of the books were, as she pointed out, about warfare, with what Elias could only guess were personal journals of the past generals within the Antonis. It was quite a marvel to have an older family as one's birthright, one that Elias himself would never truly understand. The Stravoses were, after all, new blood.
"There was a time when I needed to study warfare. The sons of Athenia need to fight for their land. Thankfully, such service was very brief. Are you a fan of the arts, Vasia?" he asked, content to make conversation with the woman as his gaze flickered between her and the books she'd brought him to see.
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Ostentatious were the mannerisms of the usurper of Athenia, for, in his reverie, he hoped to be contagious. Of course, such tactics differed for any and everyone he might encounter, and to speak to beings of power, Elias adopted an entirely different tactic. A chameleon to the situation, Elias relied on his instinct and the nature of propriety to guide his personality as he meshed himself with the hearts of his constituents. As Elias spoke more and more, he found Vasia's gaze less telling than it'd been just moments before. There was polite neutrality to her look, the Lady clearly quite aware of how to control herself. Elias empathized with the notion, but it was always to his benefit to be ostentatious. The impeccable beauty that came as a package deal with being Elias of Stravos often shielded him from the worst of the consequences, with careful planning intent on buffering what else could arise. His success wasn't always ensured, with recent events as proof, but more often than not, Elias rose to occasions with the intent of conquering them.
"Your condolences are most appreciated, my lady," his honeyed hues meeting squarely with hers. Gazes locked in a most satisfying of ways. Of course, Elias of Stravos didn't mind in the slightest being caught in and catching this woman in an exchange of gazes. Vasia of Antonis surely knew no equal within her family, and Elias decided to make that much clear with his every utterance. After all, how often did he get the chance to rain praises on anyone? Few deserved such words from the Stravos, and perhaps he was starved for the creativity that such praises warranted.
"Of course, I'll have to disagree with you. It's the little pleasures in life that make it worth living. An afternoon with a lovely noblewoman while I wait for her father... well it sounds of a good time," he mused. Elias of Stravos had dealings with Lacides, and though they were often productive, the no-nonsense, militant nature of the man was often at odds with the unrepentant hedonism that buried itself within Elias when such prudish beings took a monopoly on his time. Elias, after all, enjoyed the spectacle in all things, relishing in the moments that led to conquest, to victory, or to glory often more than the benefits of the thing itself.
Once Elias expressed his desire for a tour and it was met with some level of enthusiasm, the Stravos considered her words as he allowed his gaze to roam the tapestry of sun-kissed skin that was Vasia's.The more he looked, the more he seemed to enjoy. The simple act of standing up and the different angles of appreciation given by the occurrence allotted Elias opportunities aplenty to admire the visage that was Vasia. While the Stravos could not consider her an unparalleled beauty within the city, her noble title and the very fact that she didn't simply throw herself at him was an alluring thing in it of itself. Elias was not known to appreciate discernible strength in the character of women, and could never see beings like the women in his own family as mates... but a certain degree of intrigue cast a delicious shadow over every visage that he found himself eager to explore in earnest.
Arm in arm Antonis and Stravos walked, the warmth of her skin melding pleasantly with his own. The Stravos, of course, couldn't help himself. His palm soothed along the skin of her forearm as they walked, with Elias pointedly looking away from the positions of contact as her question broke the momentary silence.
"But, of course. I wouldn't be much of an Athenian if a good book didn't rouse my attention." he answered as the pair entered the library. It was here, at last, that their contact was destined to end. At least, for the moment. Elias pulled away from Vasia, allowing his gaze to run rampant along the worn spines as his feet took him properly into the place. Elias' long legs carried him effortlessly from end to end, a heavy curiosity as he considered the library. Most of the books were, as she pointed out, about warfare, with what Elias could only guess were personal journals of the past generals within the Antonis. It was quite a marvel to have an older family as one's birthright, one that Elias himself would never truly understand. The Stravoses were, after all, new blood.
"There was a time when I needed to study warfare. The sons of Athenia need to fight for their land. Thankfully, such service was very brief. Are you a fan of the arts, Vasia?" he asked, content to make conversation with the woman as his gaze flickered between her and the books she'd brought him to see.
Ostentatious were the mannerisms of the usurper of Athenia, for, in his reverie, he hoped to be contagious. Of course, such tactics differed for any and everyone he might encounter, and to speak to beings of power, Elias adopted an entirely different tactic. A chameleon to the situation, Elias relied on his instinct and the nature of propriety to guide his personality as he meshed himself with the hearts of his constituents. As Elias spoke more and more, he found Vasia's gaze less telling than it'd been just moments before. There was polite neutrality to her look, the Lady clearly quite aware of how to control herself. Elias empathized with the notion, but it was always to his benefit to be ostentatious. The impeccable beauty that came as a package deal with being Elias of Stravos often shielded him from the worst of the consequences, with careful planning intent on buffering what else could arise. His success wasn't always ensured, with recent events as proof, but more often than not, Elias rose to occasions with the intent of conquering them.
"Your condolences are most appreciated, my lady," his honeyed hues meeting squarely with hers. Gazes locked in a most satisfying of ways. Of course, Elias of Stravos didn't mind in the slightest being caught in and catching this woman in an exchange of gazes. Vasia of Antonis surely knew no equal within her family, and Elias decided to make that much clear with his every utterance. After all, how often did he get the chance to rain praises on anyone? Few deserved such words from the Stravos, and perhaps he was starved for the creativity that such praises warranted.
"Of course, I'll have to disagree with you. It's the little pleasures in life that make it worth living. An afternoon with a lovely noblewoman while I wait for her father... well it sounds of a good time," he mused. Elias of Stravos had dealings with Lacides, and though they were often productive, the no-nonsense, militant nature of the man was often at odds with the unrepentant hedonism that buried itself within Elias when such prudish beings took a monopoly on his time. Elias, after all, enjoyed the spectacle in all things, relishing in the moments that led to conquest, to victory, or to glory often more than the benefits of the thing itself.
Once Elias expressed his desire for a tour and it was met with some level of enthusiasm, the Stravos considered her words as he allowed his gaze to roam the tapestry of sun-kissed skin that was Vasia's.The more he looked, the more he seemed to enjoy. The simple act of standing up and the different angles of appreciation given by the occurrence allotted Elias opportunities aplenty to admire the visage that was Vasia. While the Stravos could not consider her an unparalleled beauty within the city, her noble title and the very fact that she didn't simply throw herself at him was an alluring thing in it of itself. Elias was not known to appreciate discernible strength in the character of women, and could never see beings like the women in his own family as mates... but a certain degree of intrigue cast a delicious shadow over every visage that he found himself eager to explore in earnest.
Arm in arm Antonis and Stravos walked, the warmth of her skin melding pleasantly with his own. The Stravos, of course, couldn't help himself. His palm soothed along the skin of her forearm as they walked, with Elias pointedly looking away from the positions of contact as her question broke the momentary silence.
"But, of course. I wouldn't be much of an Athenian if a good book didn't rouse my attention." he answered as the pair entered the library. It was here, at last, that their contact was destined to end. At least, for the moment. Elias pulled away from Vasia, allowing his gaze to run rampant along the worn spines as his feet took him properly into the place. Elias' long legs carried him effortlessly from end to end, a heavy curiosity as he considered the library. Most of the books were, as she pointed out, about warfare, with what Elias could only guess were personal journals of the past generals within the Antonis. It was quite a marvel to have an older family as one's birthright, one that Elias himself would never truly understand. The Stravoses were, after all, new blood.
"There was a time when I needed to study warfare. The sons of Athenia need to fight for their land. Thankfully, such service was very brief. Are you a fan of the arts, Vasia?" he asked, content to make conversation with the woman as his gaze flickered between her and the books she'd brought him to see.
There was a slight smile, not indifference towards the Lord’s compliments, but certainly a knowingness. Vasia had long ago learned to accept such superficial flattery without letting it cloud her thoughts with fanciful notions of any real regard. And Elias of Stravos had a reputation that preceded him. So she nodded graciously, offering no further rebuttal to his words and instead stood to lead the man on the tour he had requested.
Her arm in his own was nothing improper, not with Sophia trailing at their heels, but even if Elias made a point of looking elsewhere, Vasia certainly sent a narrowed gaze to where his hand smoothed over the skin of her arm, having to give the man some credit for daring if nothing else. As the lone female in a family of military men, there were many who shied at the notion of even attempting flirtation with the blonde daughter of General Lacides. Between her father’s position and reputation and her brother’s rather over-zealous protectiveness of their sister’s honour, Vasia had found suitors who wear brave enough to try their luck a little lacking in number. Never mind those had gotten that far only to be dismissed by the woman herself for being fools.
Not that she considered Elias in that fashion. He was another peacock of a man, and she found her tolerance for such vanity was sparse. The Stravos Lord did manage to elevate himself in her opinion however when he showed what seemed a genuine interest in the library. Stepping away from her, she watched as the man wandered the length of the room, perusing the tomes that had been amassed over many years. His question surprised her too, and Vasia wondered if he asked because that was were his own interests lay or because he was making assumptions about hers.
“Oh,well my Aunt Lysta is a great patron of the arts” she offered in answer, leaning back slightly against the doorframe as she looked on at her guest. “So, I have been lucky enough to see a lot of those artists that she works with. The arts certainly have their merits. And you, my Lord? If you are not a connoisseur of the martial arts, then what is it that rouses your attention?” She turned his own words back upon him, curiosity a bright spark in her blue eyes. There was much that could be learned about a person from their choice in reading, she thought.
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There was a slight smile, not indifference towards the Lord’s compliments, but certainly a knowingness. Vasia had long ago learned to accept such superficial flattery without letting it cloud her thoughts with fanciful notions of any real regard. And Elias of Stravos had a reputation that preceded him. So she nodded graciously, offering no further rebuttal to his words and instead stood to lead the man on the tour he had requested.
Her arm in his own was nothing improper, not with Sophia trailing at their heels, but even if Elias made a point of looking elsewhere, Vasia certainly sent a narrowed gaze to where his hand smoothed over the skin of her arm, having to give the man some credit for daring if nothing else. As the lone female in a family of military men, there were many who shied at the notion of even attempting flirtation with the blonde daughter of General Lacides. Between her father’s position and reputation and her brother’s rather over-zealous protectiveness of their sister’s honour, Vasia had found suitors who wear brave enough to try their luck a little lacking in number. Never mind those had gotten that far only to be dismissed by the woman herself for being fools.
Not that she considered Elias in that fashion. He was another peacock of a man, and she found her tolerance for such vanity was sparse. The Stravos Lord did manage to elevate himself in her opinion however when he showed what seemed a genuine interest in the library. Stepping away from her, she watched as the man wandered the length of the room, perusing the tomes that had been amassed over many years. His question surprised her too, and Vasia wondered if he asked because that was were his own interests lay or because he was making assumptions about hers.
“Oh,well my Aunt Lysta is a great patron of the arts” she offered in answer, leaning back slightly against the doorframe as she looked on at her guest. “So, I have been lucky enough to see a lot of those artists that she works with. The arts certainly have their merits. And you, my Lord? If you are not a connoisseur of the martial arts, then what is it that rouses your attention?” She turned his own words back upon him, curiosity a bright spark in her blue eyes. There was much that could be learned about a person from their choice in reading, she thought.
There was a slight smile, not indifference towards the Lord’s compliments, but certainly a knowingness. Vasia had long ago learned to accept such superficial flattery without letting it cloud her thoughts with fanciful notions of any real regard. And Elias of Stravos had a reputation that preceded him. So she nodded graciously, offering no further rebuttal to his words and instead stood to lead the man on the tour he had requested.
Her arm in his own was nothing improper, not with Sophia trailing at their heels, but even if Elias made a point of looking elsewhere, Vasia certainly sent a narrowed gaze to where his hand smoothed over the skin of her arm, having to give the man some credit for daring if nothing else. As the lone female in a family of military men, there were many who shied at the notion of even attempting flirtation with the blonde daughter of General Lacides. Between her father’s position and reputation and her brother’s rather over-zealous protectiveness of their sister’s honour, Vasia had found suitors who wear brave enough to try their luck a little lacking in number. Never mind those had gotten that far only to be dismissed by the woman herself for being fools.
Not that she considered Elias in that fashion. He was another peacock of a man, and she found her tolerance for such vanity was sparse. The Stravos Lord did manage to elevate himself in her opinion however when he showed what seemed a genuine interest in the library. Stepping away from her, she watched as the man wandered the length of the room, perusing the tomes that had been amassed over many years. His question surprised her too, and Vasia wondered if he asked because that was were his own interests lay or because he was making assumptions about hers.
“Oh,well my Aunt Lysta is a great patron of the arts” she offered in answer, leaning back slightly against the doorframe as she looked on at her guest. “So, I have been lucky enough to see a lot of those artists that she works with. The arts certainly have their merits. And you, my Lord? If you are not a connoisseur of the martial arts, then what is it that rouses your attention?” She turned his own words back upon him, curiosity a bright spark in her blue eyes. There was much that could be learned about a person from their choice in reading, she thought.
One might consider it unwise to be so playful with the daughter of a general, but Elias was anything but fearful. All of Athenia was but rubble beneath his feet, their lives made all the more significant by what little bit of time they shared with those of such illustrious name and status. Granted, Elias' name and status both had gone through the mud, but even soiled and sorry the Stravos name held power. It was that power that gave Elias the freedom to speak to a lovely noblewoman in the middle of the day. It was that power that granted Elias the confidence to bite into the apple that was Athenia and let the juice dribble down his chin.
However, there was a place where propriety ended and attraction began, and the Stravos found himself struggling to bridge a connection there. From their brief exchanges, Elias could already tell that Vasia of Antonis was lacking in a certain quality that the Stravos relished in others. Due deference. After all, who wouldn't worship the ground Elias walked on? The usurper of Athenia was clearly a God wrapped in the flesh of mortality. Any who looked upon his otherwordly beauty could ascertain that the Gods smiled with his every step, gasped with his every utterance. And if the Gods felt such a way, what right did mortals have to feel otherwise?
Regardless of her perception of his obvious godliness, Elias of Stravos counted down the imperfections he saw in Vasia herself. The Antonis woman's skin beneath his fingertips was smooth, but near the eyes there were marks of stress or sleeplessness that ached at her youthfulness. There was the marked shape of her cheekbones as she spoke, her very expressive face muted up until the curiosity bled into what he could objectively call exquisite blue eyes. All of the world (except Elias himself) possessed such flaws, but when those that should only listen were of the mind that they should be heard... the flaws suffused with a greater cancer altogether.
Assumption.
Whatever opinions the world held of Elias were inequivocally wrong. After all, how could insects begin to understand him? While Vasia was no insect, the principle applied to her, as well. Even the nobility was laden with those small-sighted souls who failed to see the Stravoses for the visions of the future that they were. While the fools weren't at fault for their limited foresight, they at the very least managed to cover it up well enough. Pleasant words and playful banter could transpire all day while Elias waited for the man of the house to arrive. And, of course, he'd play that game. Even if it was just for something to do without leaving the manor and feeling a fool for the waste of his time.
At her questions, Elias cocked an eyebrow. What was she insinuating with her words? Duplicitous were the tongues of the intelligent, particularly when that tongue wasn't lavishing him with praises or winding against his own.
"The nobility do well to become patrons. Long after our bones are dust, a sculptor's stone could show our faces to our successors," he commented absently, considering her question and debating with himself just how much honesty the situation required. The Stravos considered leaving enigma to his name and person, but he decided to indulge the woman with some truths about him. After all, humanizing oneself to the nobility was a means of securing their alliances with the courts. While Vasia of Antonis herself held no discernible power that the Stravos cared to exploit, to hear his name whispered favorably from her lips, perhaps, held some value. At the very least, Vasia knew how to address him properly.
"I like to be a connoisseur of the people, Vasia. There's a great deal of merit to studying not just the written word, but how it affects those that read them. There are many who educate themselves only to be devoid of awareness," he mused, considering Aimias of Argyris in his thoughts. The vacant-eyed scholar was a great source of Elias' ire, and leaving him alive was a regret that quickened his pulse with every thought of it.
"They live as stewards of today's knowledge, only to be rendered obsolete by tomorrow's. However, people never really change, do they?" he completed, a chuckle in his voice as he idly let his digits traverse the spine of a rather thick tome.
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One might consider it unwise to be so playful with the daughter of a general, but Elias was anything but fearful. All of Athenia was but rubble beneath his feet, their lives made all the more significant by what little bit of time they shared with those of such illustrious name and status. Granted, Elias' name and status both had gone through the mud, but even soiled and sorry the Stravos name held power. It was that power that gave Elias the freedom to speak to a lovely noblewoman in the middle of the day. It was that power that granted Elias the confidence to bite into the apple that was Athenia and let the juice dribble down his chin.
However, there was a place where propriety ended and attraction began, and the Stravos found himself struggling to bridge a connection there. From their brief exchanges, Elias could already tell that Vasia of Antonis was lacking in a certain quality that the Stravos relished in others. Due deference. After all, who wouldn't worship the ground Elias walked on? The usurper of Athenia was clearly a God wrapped in the flesh of mortality. Any who looked upon his otherwordly beauty could ascertain that the Gods smiled with his every step, gasped with his every utterance. And if the Gods felt such a way, what right did mortals have to feel otherwise?
Regardless of her perception of his obvious godliness, Elias of Stravos counted down the imperfections he saw in Vasia herself. The Antonis woman's skin beneath his fingertips was smooth, but near the eyes there were marks of stress or sleeplessness that ached at her youthfulness. There was the marked shape of her cheekbones as she spoke, her very expressive face muted up until the curiosity bled into what he could objectively call exquisite blue eyes. All of the world (except Elias himself) possessed such flaws, but when those that should only listen were of the mind that they should be heard... the flaws suffused with a greater cancer altogether.
Assumption.
Whatever opinions the world held of Elias were inequivocally wrong. After all, how could insects begin to understand him? While Vasia was no insect, the principle applied to her, as well. Even the nobility was laden with those small-sighted souls who failed to see the Stravoses for the visions of the future that they were. While the fools weren't at fault for their limited foresight, they at the very least managed to cover it up well enough. Pleasant words and playful banter could transpire all day while Elias waited for the man of the house to arrive. And, of course, he'd play that game. Even if it was just for something to do without leaving the manor and feeling a fool for the waste of his time.
At her questions, Elias cocked an eyebrow. What was she insinuating with her words? Duplicitous were the tongues of the intelligent, particularly when that tongue wasn't lavishing him with praises or winding against his own.
"The nobility do well to become patrons. Long after our bones are dust, a sculptor's stone could show our faces to our successors," he commented absently, considering her question and debating with himself just how much honesty the situation required. The Stravos considered leaving enigma to his name and person, but he decided to indulge the woman with some truths about him. After all, humanizing oneself to the nobility was a means of securing their alliances with the courts. While Vasia of Antonis herself held no discernible power that the Stravos cared to exploit, to hear his name whispered favorably from her lips, perhaps, held some value. At the very least, Vasia knew how to address him properly.
"I like to be a connoisseur of the people, Vasia. There's a great deal of merit to studying not just the written word, but how it affects those that read them. There are many who educate themselves only to be devoid of awareness," he mused, considering Aimias of Argyris in his thoughts. The vacant-eyed scholar was a great source of Elias' ire, and leaving him alive was a regret that quickened his pulse with every thought of it.
"They live as stewards of today's knowledge, only to be rendered obsolete by tomorrow's. However, people never really change, do they?" he completed, a chuckle in his voice as he idly let his digits traverse the spine of a rather thick tome.
One might consider it unwise to be so playful with the daughter of a general, but Elias was anything but fearful. All of Athenia was but rubble beneath his feet, their lives made all the more significant by what little bit of time they shared with those of such illustrious name and status. Granted, Elias' name and status both had gone through the mud, but even soiled and sorry the Stravos name held power. It was that power that gave Elias the freedom to speak to a lovely noblewoman in the middle of the day. It was that power that granted Elias the confidence to bite into the apple that was Athenia and let the juice dribble down his chin.
However, there was a place where propriety ended and attraction began, and the Stravos found himself struggling to bridge a connection there. From their brief exchanges, Elias could already tell that Vasia of Antonis was lacking in a certain quality that the Stravos relished in others. Due deference. After all, who wouldn't worship the ground Elias walked on? The usurper of Athenia was clearly a God wrapped in the flesh of mortality. Any who looked upon his otherwordly beauty could ascertain that the Gods smiled with his every step, gasped with his every utterance. And if the Gods felt such a way, what right did mortals have to feel otherwise?
Regardless of her perception of his obvious godliness, Elias of Stravos counted down the imperfections he saw in Vasia herself. The Antonis woman's skin beneath his fingertips was smooth, but near the eyes there were marks of stress or sleeplessness that ached at her youthfulness. There was the marked shape of her cheekbones as she spoke, her very expressive face muted up until the curiosity bled into what he could objectively call exquisite blue eyes. All of the world (except Elias himself) possessed such flaws, but when those that should only listen were of the mind that they should be heard... the flaws suffused with a greater cancer altogether.
Assumption.
Whatever opinions the world held of Elias were inequivocally wrong. After all, how could insects begin to understand him? While Vasia was no insect, the principle applied to her, as well. Even the nobility was laden with those small-sighted souls who failed to see the Stravoses for the visions of the future that they were. While the fools weren't at fault for their limited foresight, they at the very least managed to cover it up well enough. Pleasant words and playful banter could transpire all day while Elias waited for the man of the house to arrive. And, of course, he'd play that game. Even if it was just for something to do without leaving the manor and feeling a fool for the waste of his time.
At her questions, Elias cocked an eyebrow. What was she insinuating with her words? Duplicitous were the tongues of the intelligent, particularly when that tongue wasn't lavishing him with praises or winding against his own.
"The nobility do well to become patrons. Long after our bones are dust, a sculptor's stone could show our faces to our successors," he commented absently, considering her question and debating with himself just how much honesty the situation required. The Stravos considered leaving enigma to his name and person, but he decided to indulge the woman with some truths about him. After all, humanizing oneself to the nobility was a means of securing their alliances with the courts. While Vasia of Antonis herself held no discernible power that the Stravos cared to exploit, to hear his name whispered favorably from her lips, perhaps, held some value. At the very least, Vasia knew how to address him properly.
"I like to be a connoisseur of the people, Vasia. There's a great deal of merit to studying not just the written word, but how it affects those that read them. There are many who educate themselves only to be devoid of awareness," he mused, considering Aimias of Argyris in his thoughts. The vacant-eyed scholar was a great source of Elias' ire, and leaving him alive was a regret that quickened his pulse with every thought of it.
"They live as stewards of today's knowledge, only to be rendered obsolete by tomorrow's. However, people never really change, do they?" he completed, a chuckle in his voice as he idly let his digits traverse the spine of a rather thick tome.
Had she been gifted with the ability to read minds, the high and mighty Lord Elias would most certainly have found himself cut down to size by the sharp edge of Vasia’s tongue as he presumed to stifle her with his own limited beliefs. As it was, either cowardice or perhaps a hint of intelligence had him hide his thoughts behind that glossy veneer that served to entrance those of lesser substance. Vasia watched him consider her question with no effort to hide her interest. His initial words, bland and yet true all the same, spoke clearly of a man who was deciding how he might answer, and she could give him credit for that at least.
Oh how she wanted him to be more than shallow fool of a man who coasted on the back of his pretty face. However, the Stravos Lord had rather fallen on his pretty face in front of the senate, so he had an uphill battle to convince Vasia that he was more than the sum of his failings. Her family were loyal to the crown, and there had been serious enough questions raised over the Stravos’ own loyalty as to see them stripped of their nobility. So it was mildly amusing to the Antonis lady to see this young man so inflated with his own sense of self-worth when the reputation of his house still stood in tatters. But, she would not allow herself to draw conclusions based upon hearsay, and so for now at least, she reserved judgement still.
When he did offer something closer to an answer, she drew herself straight again, moved over to peruse the shelves to the opposite side of the room to her guest so he would not see the smile that threatened. A connoisseur of the people, indeed. “A fair point my Lord. Or mayhaps they are just working with a higher awareness, undetectable to those of us without their breadth of knowledge?” Her own experience suggested it was both. Vasia had encountered some supposedly learned individuals who narrow mindedness made her blood boil, who spoke to her as if she should not entertain the idea that she might match them in wit or wisdom. And then there were others, others who were so absorbed in their passions of seeking knowledge that it became contagious, and it was impossible not to become swept up in the excitement of it all. As she glanced over her shoulder at the Stravos Lord, she fancied he had not been so inspired in all his years. He seemed rather too preoccupied with himself to look outwards long enough to see what else was on offer. His next words gave her pause though, and she turned toward him with a surprised look upon her face.
“Do you think then, Lord Elias, that we are doomed to repeat the mistakes of our forebears? That we do not have the power ourselves to change patterns? It seems a little defeatist for one such as yourself?”
He had struck as a man of calculated ambition, which did not sit well with the notion that people did not possess the capability to change. Unless of course, he considered himself somehow special, which seemed to fit. Vasia edged closer towards the door, certain that the library would not hold his fascination overly long and ready to move on. Though what else the Lord thought he might find so interesting about their home she could not fathom. Either way, waiting for him to join her, Vasia led him out into the courtyard garden, the heat hitting like a wave as they left the shade of the building. The blonde shielded her eyes with her hand as she turned back to the Lord, giving him space to answer.
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Had she been gifted with the ability to read minds, the high and mighty Lord Elias would most certainly have found himself cut down to size by the sharp edge of Vasia’s tongue as he presumed to stifle her with his own limited beliefs. As it was, either cowardice or perhaps a hint of intelligence had him hide his thoughts behind that glossy veneer that served to entrance those of lesser substance. Vasia watched him consider her question with no effort to hide her interest. His initial words, bland and yet true all the same, spoke clearly of a man who was deciding how he might answer, and she could give him credit for that at least.
Oh how she wanted him to be more than shallow fool of a man who coasted on the back of his pretty face. However, the Stravos Lord had rather fallen on his pretty face in front of the senate, so he had an uphill battle to convince Vasia that he was more than the sum of his failings. Her family were loyal to the crown, and there had been serious enough questions raised over the Stravos’ own loyalty as to see them stripped of their nobility. So it was mildly amusing to the Antonis lady to see this young man so inflated with his own sense of self-worth when the reputation of his house still stood in tatters. But, she would not allow herself to draw conclusions based upon hearsay, and so for now at least, she reserved judgement still.
When he did offer something closer to an answer, she drew herself straight again, moved over to peruse the shelves to the opposite side of the room to her guest so he would not see the smile that threatened. A connoisseur of the people, indeed. “A fair point my Lord. Or mayhaps they are just working with a higher awareness, undetectable to those of us without their breadth of knowledge?” Her own experience suggested it was both. Vasia had encountered some supposedly learned individuals who narrow mindedness made her blood boil, who spoke to her as if she should not entertain the idea that she might match them in wit or wisdom. And then there were others, others who were so absorbed in their passions of seeking knowledge that it became contagious, and it was impossible not to become swept up in the excitement of it all. As she glanced over her shoulder at the Stravos Lord, she fancied he had not been so inspired in all his years. He seemed rather too preoccupied with himself to look outwards long enough to see what else was on offer. His next words gave her pause though, and she turned toward him with a surprised look upon her face.
“Do you think then, Lord Elias, that we are doomed to repeat the mistakes of our forebears? That we do not have the power ourselves to change patterns? It seems a little defeatist for one such as yourself?”
He had struck as a man of calculated ambition, which did not sit well with the notion that people did not possess the capability to change. Unless of course, he considered himself somehow special, which seemed to fit. Vasia edged closer towards the door, certain that the library would not hold his fascination overly long and ready to move on. Though what else the Lord thought he might find so interesting about their home she could not fathom. Either way, waiting for him to join her, Vasia led him out into the courtyard garden, the heat hitting like a wave as they left the shade of the building. The blonde shielded her eyes with her hand as she turned back to the Lord, giving him space to answer.
Had she been gifted with the ability to read minds, the high and mighty Lord Elias would most certainly have found himself cut down to size by the sharp edge of Vasia’s tongue as he presumed to stifle her with his own limited beliefs. As it was, either cowardice or perhaps a hint of intelligence had him hide his thoughts behind that glossy veneer that served to entrance those of lesser substance. Vasia watched him consider her question with no effort to hide her interest. His initial words, bland and yet true all the same, spoke clearly of a man who was deciding how he might answer, and she could give him credit for that at least.
Oh how she wanted him to be more than shallow fool of a man who coasted on the back of his pretty face. However, the Stravos Lord had rather fallen on his pretty face in front of the senate, so he had an uphill battle to convince Vasia that he was more than the sum of his failings. Her family were loyal to the crown, and there had been serious enough questions raised over the Stravos’ own loyalty as to see them stripped of their nobility. So it was mildly amusing to the Antonis lady to see this young man so inflated with his own sense of self-worth when the reputation of his house still stood in tatters. But, she would not allow herself to draw conclusions based upon hearsay, and so for now at least, she reserved judgement still.
When he did offer something closer to an answer, she drew herself straight again, moved over to peruse the shelves to the opposite side of the room to her guest so he would not see the smile that threatened. A connoisseur of the people, indeed. “A fair point my Lord. Or mayhaps they are just working with a higher awareness, undetectable to those of us without their breadth of knowledge?” Her own experience suggested it was both. Vasia had encountered some supposedly learned individuals who narrow mindedness made her blood boil, who spoke to her as if she should not entertain the idea that she might match them in wit or wisdom. And then there were others, others who were so absorbed in their passions of seeking knowledge that it became contagious, and it was impossible not to become swept up in the excitement of it all. As she glanced over her shoulder at the Stravos Lord, she fancied he had not been so inspired in all his years. He seemed rather too preoccupied with himself to look outwards long enough to see what else was on offer. His next words gave her pause though, and she turned toward him with a surprised look upon her face.
“Do you think then, Lord Elias, that we are doomed to repeat the mistakes of our forebears? That we do not have the power ourselves to change patterns? It seems a little defeatist for one such as yourself?”
He had struck as a man of calculated ambition, which did not sit well with the notion that people did not possess the capability to change. Unless of course, he considered himself somehow special, which seemed to fit. Vasia edged closer towards the door, certain that the library would not hold his fascination overly long and ready to move on. Though what else the Lord thought he might find so interesting about their home she could not fathom. Either way, waiting for him to join her, Vasia led him out into the courtyard garden, the heat hitting like a wave as they left the shade of the building. The blonde shielded her eyes with her hand as she turned back to the Lord, giving him space to answer.
Elias of Stravos wasn't so gifted as to read into the hearts and souls of other people, but their faces and gestures often told a tale their mouths would never repeat. It was clear to Elias that Vasia held some sort of expectation of treatment, that she believed herself on some sort of similar footing as a male heir to a family name. Neither the notion nor the fact of it was in any way true to Elias' guess, but nevertheless the Stravos always held his tongue in such matters, keen to show himself and his systems of beliefs in the kindest and grandest possible way. It was clear with every word that he spoke that Vasia was both intrigued and assessing him. To break or falter was neither in Elias' nature nor in his best interests. His words, while measured, flowed easily from his lips, and he wondered with each moment the likelihood that this woman could become yet another means to an end to him.
Already, Elias had lost interest in the woman as some sort of prize. She was too keen of mind and perhaps a bit too weathered by the weight of her own intelligence. She reminded him somewhat of Chara, though the elder Stravos held a ruthlessness to her that reminded Elias of home. No, instead Vasia seemed to hold her own sort of arrogance, one that if given the opportunity, Elias had every intention of manipulating. Could Elias weave his machinations in even the most stalwart of prey? Only time could tell, and he dare not use his wiles to lure in this one. Gone were the playful touches and wayward looks at her body. No, Elias held her gaze with a respect he seldom showed those of her gender. Or rather, anyone at all. As Vasia sought to address his words, it seemed their understanding of one another reached a rather... critical impasse. Vasia seemed to believe that his message was one of doom and gloom, of death and ills left unlearned by the descendants of fools. While Elias could subscribe to a bit of nihilism, especially in the darker moments of his house arrest, when all was laid low and bare to the world...
However, in this moment, where a cautious optimism mobilized the Stravos into seeking both counsel and business with a man such as Lacides of Antonis, there was no room for such beliefs. Elias of Stravos' belief in the unchanging nature of men, as he'd explain to the general's daughter, was a far more palatable sort of rigidity.
"My lady, if I believed in the unchanging nature of the individual, then I wouldn't ever hope to rise above the treacherous lies told about me. If I believed that we were doomed to walk into traps like the Trojans again and again, then I would not vie for the stability of our nation," The lies flowed effortlessly from Elias' lips, spoken without a smile as he elaborated on his beliefs that had been misinterpreted.
"On the contrary, there is an unchanging aspect to the nature of humanity. We are persistent, we are cunning. We are the sons and daughters of Prometheus and live in the graces of Zeus. In our hands we hold armageddon and salvation, as we always have. The irrefutable and the unchanging lies not in our ability to grow, which would be paradox. It lies instead in the condition of our souls. Grow as we might, there is a core to each of us that will never truly change, for it is us," he completed at last. Once he'd finished speaking, Elias let himself a moment to clear his throat. He and Vasia had spoken quite a lot, and perhaps the kykeon that had coated his throat need another chance to strengthen his voice. He chuckled softly, considering Vasia of Antonis out of the corner of his eye as he allowed his gaze to travel skyward, to where the Sun Chariot of Apollo loomed between the clouds.
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Elias of Stravos wasn't so gifted as to read into the hearts and souls of other people, but their faces and gestures often told a tale their mouths would never repeat. It was clear to Elias that Vasia held some sort of expectation of treatment, that she believed herself on some sort of similar footing as a male heir to a family name. Neither the notion nor the fact of it was in any way true to Elias' guess, but nevertheless the Stravos always held his tongue in such matters, keen to show himself and his systems of beliefs in the kindest and grandest possible way. It was clear with every word that he spoke that Vasia was both intrigued and assessing him. To break or falter was neither in Elias' nature nor in his best interests. His words, while measured, flowed easily from his lips, and he wondered with each moment the likelihood that this woman could become yet another means to an end to him.
Already, Elias had lost interest in the woman as some sort of prize. She was too keen of mind and perhaps a bit too weathered by the weight of her own intelligence. She reminded him somewhat of Chara, though the elder Stravos held a ruthlessness to her that reminded Elias of home. No, instead Vasia seemed to hold her own sort of arrogance, one that if given the opportunity, Elias had every intention of manipulating. Could Elias weave his machinations in even the most stalwart of prey? Only time could tell, and he dare not use his wiles to lure in this one. Gone were the playful touches and wayward looks at her body. No, Elias held her gaze with a respect he seldom showed those of her gender. Or rather, anyone at all. As Vasia sought to address his words, it seemed their understanding of one another reached a rather... critical impasse. Vasia seemed to believe that his message was one of doom and gloom, of death and ills left unlearned by the descendants of fools. While Elias could subscribe to a bit of nihilism, especially in the darker moments of his house arrest, when all was laid low and bare to the world...
However, in this moment, where a cautious optimism mobilized the Stravos into seeking both counsel and business with a man such as Lacides of Antonis, there was no room for such beliefs. Elias of Stravos' belief in the unchanging nature of men, as he'd explain to the general's daughter, was a far more palatable sort of rigidity.
"My lady, if I believed in the unchanging nature of the individual, then I wouldn't ever hope to rise above the treacherous lies told about me. If I believed that we were doomed to walk into traps like the Trojans again and again, then I would not vie for the stability of our nation," The lies flowed effortlessly from Elias' lips, spoken without a smile as he elaborated on his beliefs that had been misinterpreted.
"On the contrary, there is an unchanging aspect to the nature of humanity. We are persistent, we are cunning. We are the sons and daughters of Prometheus and live in the graces of Zeus. In our hands we hold armageddon and salvation, as we always have. The irrefutable and the unchanging lies not in our ability to grow, which would be paradox. It lies instead in the condition of our souls. Grow as we might, there is a core to each of us that will never truly change, for it is us," he completed at last. Once he'd finished speaking, Elias let himself a moment to clear his throat. He and Vasia had spoken quite a lot, and perhaps the kykeon that had coated his throat need another chance to strengthen his voice. He chuckled softly, considering Vasia of Antonis out of the corner of his eye as he allowed his gaze to travel skyward, to where the Sun Chariot of Apollo loomed between the clouds.
Elias of Stravos wasn't so gifted as to read into the hearts and souls of other people, but their faces and gestures often told a tale their mouths would never repeat. It was clear to Elias that Vasia held some sort of expectation of treatment, that she believed herself on some sort of similar footing as a male heir to a family name. Neither the notion nor the fact of it was in any way true to Elias' guess, but nevertheless the Stravos always held his tongue in such matters, keen to show himself and his systems of beliefs in the kindest and grandest possible way. It was clear with every word that he spoke that Vasia was both intrigued and assessing him. To break or falter was neither in Elias' nature nor in his best interests. His words, while measured, flowed easily from his lips, and he wondered with each moment the likelihood that this woman could become yet another means to an end to him.
Already, Elias had lost interest in the woman as some sort of prize. She was too keen of mind and perhaps a bit too weathered by the weight of her own intelligence. She reminded him somewhat of Chara, though the elder Stravos held a ruthlessness to her that reminded Elias of home. No, instead Vasia seemed to hold her own sort of arrogance, one that if given the opportunity, Elias had every intention of manipulating. Could Elias weave his machinations in even the most stalwart of prey? Only time could tell, and he dare not use his wiles to lure in this one. Gone were the playful touches and wayward looks at her body. No, Elias held her gaze with a respect he seldom showed those of her gender. Or rather, anyone at all. As Vasia sought to address his words, it seemed their understanding of one another reached a rather... critical impasse. Vasia seemed to believe that his message was one of doom and gloom, of death and ills left unlearned by the descendants of fools. While Elias could subscribe to a bit of nihilism, especially in the darker moments of his house arrest, when all was laid low and bare to the world...
However, in this moment, where a cautious optimism mobilized the Stravos into seeking both counsel and business with a man such as Lacides of Antonis, there was no room for such beliefs. Elias of Stravos' belief in the unchanging nature of men, as he'd explain to the general's daughter, was a far more palatable sort of rigidity.
"My lady, if I believed in the unchanging nature of the individual, then I wouldn't ever hope to rise above the treacherous lies told about me. If I believed that we were doomed to walk into traps like the Trojans again and again, then I would not vie for the stability of our nation," The lies flowed effortlessly from Elias' lips, spoken without a smile as he elaborated on his beliefs that had been misinterpreted.
"On the contrary, there is an unchanging aspect to the nature of humanity. We are persistent, we are cunning. We are the sons and daughters of Prometheus and live in the graces of Zeus. In our hands we hold armageddon and salvation, as we always have. The irrefutable and the unchanging lies not in our ability to grow, which would be paradox. It lies instead in the condition of our souls. Grow as we might, there is a core to each of us that will never truly change, for it is us," he completed at last. Once he'd finished speaking, Elias let himself a moment to clear his throat. He and Vasia had spoken quite a lot, and perhaps the kykeon that had coated his throat need another chance to strengthen his voice. He chuckled softly, considering Vasia of Antonis out of the corner of his eye as he allowed his gaze to travel skyward, to where the Sun Chariot of Apollo loomed between the clouds.
What could she do but offer a demure smile at his words, one that spoke neither sympthaty for what he claimed falsities made against him, but also did not suggest that they were anything but lies. There was no smoke without fire it was said, and by the Gods the Stravos family had been wreathed in smoke.
Still, did she imagine it, or had his gaze lost that silly flirtatiousness in favour of something more real? It was a pleasing thought though the Antonis lady did nothing to acknowledge it as the pair stepped out into the bright light of the sun. Here, her hair was a crown of gold, braided into shining halo about her face, and the woman’s expression was thoughtful as she heard the man’s words. Perhaps she had misunderstood him, before.
“I see” she mused, as she turned his words over, weighing them before making a decision as to how she felt about them. The idea that there was something fixed and unchanging within all of them was a curious one, and Vasia found she wanted the Lord to speak more on his theories. “And your soul, Lord Elias? What do you judge the condition of it to be?” She asked lightly, as they wandered between small olive trees, the odd lemon tree dotted amongst them. In the centre of the courtyard bubbled a small fountain, an indulgence if ever there was one when people had fought over water in the streets. If one could ignore the fact though, it was a peaceful sound as a backdrop to their gentle stroll.
When the Lord Cleared his throat, Vasia motioned for Sofia to fetch the man a drink, and the maid duly hurried off to do so. Pausing as so the girl would know where to find them, Vasia motioned Elias towards an ornately carver bench that sat in the shade of a tree whose branches trailed down to the ground as if it had lost the strength to hold them up towards the sun any longer. It made for a pretty spot, and the lady seated herself gently upon the opposite end to the lord, caught one of the leafy ribbons in her hand and toyed with it as she asked “What is it you seek with my father, My Lord, if you do not mind me prying. It must be of some import for you to present yourself here with no prior arrangement?” Just work for the guildsmen?
It was the first mention she had made toward the fact that she knew full well Lord Elias had no formal plans with the General, but Vasia thought they had thawed enough with one another that the man would take it in good part. And well hen Sofia returned bearing two goblets of iced water steeped with fruit, she accepted one and sipped at it daintily as she waited for the man to wet his lips and then answer her.
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What could she do but offer a demure smile at his words, one that spoke neither sympthaty for what he claimed falsities made against him, but also did not suggest that they were anything but lies. There was no smoke without fire it was said, and by the Gods the Stravos family had been wreathed in smoke.
Still, did she imagine it, or had his gaze lost that silly flirtatiousness in favour of something more real? It was a pleasing thought though the Antonis lady did nothing to acknowledge it as the pair stepped out into the bright light of the sun. Here, her hair was a crown of gold, braided into shining halo about her face, and the woman’s expression was thoughtful as she heard the man’s words. Perhaps she had misunderstood him, before.
“I see” she mused, as she turned his words over, weighing them before making a decision as to how she felt about them. The idea that there was something fixed and unchanging within all of them was a curious one, and Vasia found she wanted the Lord to speak more on his theories. “And your soul, Lord Elias? What do you judge the condition of it to be?” She asked lightly, as they wandered between small olive trees, the odd lemon tree dotted amongst them. In the centre of the courtyard bubbled a small fountain, an indulgence if ever there was one when people had fought over water in the streets. If one could ignore the fact though, it was a peaceful sound as a backdrop to their gentle stroll.
When the Lord Cleared his throat, Vasia motioned for Sofia to fetch the man a drink, and the maid duly hurried off to do so. Pausing as so the girl would know where to find them, Vasia motioned Elias towards an ornately carver bench that sat in the shade of a tree whose branches trailed down to the ground as if it had lost the strength to hold them up towards the sun any longer. It made for a pretty spot, and the lady seated herself gently upon the opposite end to the lord, caught one of the leafy ribbons in her hand and toyed with it as she asked “What is it you seek with my father, My Lord, if you do not mind me prying. It must be of some import for you to present yourself here with no prior arrangement?” Just work for the guildsmen?
It was the first mention she had made toward the fact that she knew full well Lord Elias had no formal plans with the General, but Vasia thought they had thawed enough with one another that the man would take it in good part. And well hen Sofia returned bearing two goblets of iced water steeped with fruit, she accepted one and sipped at it daintily as she waited for the man to wet his lips and then answer her.
What could she do but offer a demure smile at his words, one that spoke neither sympthaty for what he claimed falsities made against him, but also did not suggest that they were anything but lies. There was no smoke without fire it was said, and by the Gods the Stravos family had been wreathed in smoke.
Still, did she imagine it, or had his gaze lost that silly flirtatiousness in favour of something more real? It was a pleasing thought though the Antonis lady did nothing to acknowledge it as the pair stepped out into the bright light of the sun. Here, her hair was a crown of gold, braided into shining halo about her face, and the woman’s expression was thoughtful as she heard the man’s words. Perhaps she had misunderstood him, before.
“I see” she mused, as she turned his words over, weighing them before making a decision as to how she felt about them. The idea that there was something fixed and unchanging within all of them was a curious one, and Vasia found she wanted the Lord to speak more on his theories. “And your soul, Lord Elias? What do you judge the condition of it to be?” She asked lightly, as they wandered between small olive trees, the odd lemon tree dotted amongst them. In the centre of the courtyard bubbled a small fountain, an indulgence if ever there was one when people had fought over water in the streets. If one could ignore the fact though, it was a peaceful sound as a backdrop to their gentle stroll.
When the Lord Cleared his throat, Vasia motioned for Sofia to fetch the man a drink, and the maid duly hurried off to do so. Pausing as so the girl would know where to find them, Vasia motioned Elias towards an ornately carver bench that sat in the shade of a tree whose branches trailed down to the ground as if it had lost the strength to hold them up towards the sun any longer. It made for a pretty spot, and the lady seated herself gently upon the opposite end to the lord, caught one of the leafy ribbons in her hand and toyed with it as she asked “What is it you seek with my father, My Lord, if you do not mind me prying. It must be of some import for you to present yourself here with no prior arrangement?” Just work for the guildsmen?
It was the first mention she had made toward the fact that she knew full well Lord Elias had no formal plans with the General, but Vasia thought they had thawed enough with one another that the man would take it in good part. And well hen Sofia returned bearing two goblets of iced water steeped with fruit, she accepted one and sipped at it daintily as she waited for the man to wet his lips and then answer her.
And your soul, Lord Elias? What do you judge the condition of it to be?
Of course the woman would ask about him. Even those without a visceral attraction to the Headlord of Stravos sought to turn the conversation towards him. It was a natural thing, for topics not understood or worse still, misunderstood and expressed as such to be turned back to their progenitor. Perhaps Vasia of Antonis sought to catch him off guard, or glean some sort of sign of his treachery within his answer. However, practised was Elias of Stravos in the staunch belief in his own innocent to the point that at times he even believed the misrepresented truth of his own words.
"The topic of souls is a very... tricky thing. One could interpret it as a dangerous thing, to discuss their own soul. Hades lurks in the shadow of every talk of those shades of ourselves, doesn't he? It's quite the mark on one's intentions to bring up the soul in casual conversation," he mused, his fixed stare narrowing in the moment. He held no aggression in his voice, but the woman had asked a question with the intention of snaring him. Perhaps he too misunderstood the context of her words, but he would rather not risk drawing exceptional ire from the woman who could easily turn her father against him. Elias shrugged, shaking the false apprehension from his shoulders before he elaborated. First, however, the Stravos took two sips of the offered water, peering curiously into the goblet to see what sort of fruit had been lodged at the bottom of the bronze.
"If your words are in good humour, which I'll take them to be, my lady, I'll give you this much. I feel that I have nothing to fear upon death. All that I do is for the glory of my family, both the house of Stravos and the kingdom of Athenia."
Never did Elias mention the people themselves as anything close to him, for there was no truth to spin in that. Elias of Stravos cared very little for the worms beneath his feet, seeing their value only in how quickly and effectively they could build his ships in Lyncestia or bestow upon him the support for the crown he rightfully sought after. All that was and should be his was what he craved, but this woman was to know nothing of his innermost thoughts. Even his family within Stravos house found difficulty in learning the opinions of the heir to their fortunes. It simply was how it was. Keep dangerous secrets close, and dangerous people closer, was the axiom.
When he answered, it seemed that Vasia turned the conversation to a much safer subject, one he was far more interested in answering in the wake of the more nebulous subject matter they'd ventured into. It wasn't that Elias disliked the topic of philosophy, but without prior investigation he could not so easily fabricate answers that would disguise the vile nature within that he was all too aware of.
"It is of tremendous import, of course. Athenia's current fleet is outdated and the sails of General Lacides' ships look ready to wear out at any point. It is not just my pleasure as a businessman, but my responsibility as baron of Lyncestia and the premiere shipwright of Athenia to offer your father the opportunity to properly peruse our ships and make his decision as to whether he'd like to reinforce the fleet with superior armaments."
Elias certainly had the ostentatious flair of a merchant, talking well of his goods in the effort to make them all the more palatable to his target audience. The general had yet to arrive, but Vasia of Antonis was well enough of a person to influence her father should she be inclined to assist the Stravos in 'assisting' the kingdom.
"Perhaps, if the journey is too arduous for the general to wish to take, someone else could come to Lyncestia in his place. There is so much to see. Truly, the province has flourished and there's much innovation that's been made in my years as its baron."
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And your soul, Lord Elias? What do you judge the condition of it to be?
Of course the woman would ask about him. Even those without a visceral attraction to the Headlord of Stravos sought to turn the conversation towards him. It was a natural thing, for topics not understood or worse still, misunderstood and expressed as such to be turned back to their progenitor. Perhaps Vasia of Antonis sought to catch him off guard, or glean some sort of sign of his treachery within his answer. However, practised was Elias of Stravos in the staunch belief in his own innocent to the point that at times he even believed the misrepresented truth of his own words.
"The topic of souls is a very... tricky thing. One could interpret it as a dangerous thing, to discuss their own soul. Hades lurks in the shadow of every talk of those shades of ourselves, doesn't he? It's quite the mark on one's intentions to bring up the soul in casual conversation," he mused, his fixed stare narrowing in the moment. He held no aggression in his voice, but the woman had asked a question with the intention of snaring him. Perhaps he too misunderstood the context of her words, but he would rather not risk drawing exceptional ire from the woman who could easily turn her father against him. Elias shrugged, shaking the false apprehension from his shoulders before he elaborated. First, however, the Stravos took two sips of the offered water, peering curiously into the goblet to see what sort of fruit had been lodged at the bottom of the bronze.
"If your words are in good humour, which I'll take them to be, my lady, I'll give you this much. I feel that I have nothing to fear upon death. All that I do is for the glory of my family, both the house of Stravos and the kingdom of Athenia."
Never did Elias mention the people themselves as anything close to him, for there was no truth to spin in that. Elias of Stravos cared very little for the worms beneath his feet, seeing their value only in how quickly and effectively they could build his ships in Lyncestia or bestow upon him the support for the crown he rightfully sought after. All that was and should be his was what he craved, but this woman was to know nothing of his innermost thoughts. Even his family within Stravos house found difficulty in learning the opinions of the heir to their fortunes. It simply was how it was. Keep dangerous secrets close, and dangerous people closer, was the axiom.
When he answered, it seemed that Vasia turned the conversation to a much safer subject, one he was far more interested in answering in the wake of the more nebulous subject matter they'd ventured into. It wasn't that Elias disliked the topic of philosophy, but without prior investigation he could not so easily fabricate answers that would disguise the vile nature within that he was all too aware of.
"It is of tremendous import, of course. Athenia's current fleet is outdated and the sails of General Lacides' ships look ready to wear out at any point. It is not just my pleasure as a businessman, but my responsibility as baron of Lyncestia and the premiere shipwright of Athenia to offer your father the opportunity to properly peruse our ships and make his decision as to whether he'd like to reinforce the fleet with superior armaments."
Elias certainly had the ostentatious flair of a merchant, talking well of his goods in the effort to make them all the more palatable to his target audience. The general had yet to arrive, but Vasia of Antonis was well enough of a person to influence her father should she be inclined to assist the Stravos in 'assisting' the kingdom.
"Perhaps, if the journey is too arduous for the general to wish to take, someone else could come to Lyncestia in his place. There is so much to see. Truly, the province has flourished and there's much innovation that's been made in my years as its baron."
And your soul, Lord Elias? What do you judge the condition of it to be?
Of course the woman would ask about him. Even those without a visceral attraction to the Headlord of Stravos sought to turn the conversation towards him. It was a natural thing, for topics not understood or worse still, misunderstood and expressed as such to be turned back to their progenitor. Perhaps Vasia of Antonis sought to catch him off guard, or glean some sort of sign of his treachery within his answer. However, practised was Elias of Stravos in the staunch belief in his own innocent to the point that at times he even believed the misrepresented truth of his own words.
"The topic of souls is a very... tricky thing. One could interpret it as a dangerous thing, to discuss their own soul. Hades lurks in the shadow of every talk of those shades of ourselves, doesn't he? It's quite the mark on one's intentions to bring up the soul in casual conversation," he mused, his fixed stare narrowing in the moment. He held no aggression in his voice, but the woman had asked a question with the intention of snaring him. Perhaps he too misunderstood the context of her words, but he would rather not risk drawing exceptional ire from the woman who could easily turn her father against him. Elias shrugged, shaking the false apprehension from his shoulders before he elaborated. First, however, the Stravos took two sips of the offered water, peering curiously into the goblet to see what sort of fruit had been lodged at the bottom of the bronze.
"If your words are in good humour, which I'll take them to be, my lady, I'll give you this much. I feel that I have nothing to fear upon death. All that I do is for the glory of my family, both the house of Stravos and the kingdom of Athenia."
Never did Elias mention the people themselves as anything close to him, for there was no truth to spin in that. Elias of Stravos cared very little for the worms beneath his feet, seeing their value only in how quickly and effectively they could build his ships in Lyncestia or bestow upon him the support for the crown he rightfully sought after. All that was and should be his was what he craved, but this woman was to know nothing of his innermost thoughts. Even his family within Stravos house found difficulty in learning the opinions of the heir to their fortunes. It simply was how it was. Keep dangerous secrets close, and dangerous people closer, was the axiom.
When he answered, it seemed that Vasia turned the conversation to a much safer subject, one he was far more interested in answering in the wake of the more nebulous subject matter they'd ventured into. It wasn't that Elias disliked the topic of philosophy, but without prior investigation he could not so easily fabricate answers that would disguise the vile nature within that he was all too aware of.
"It is of tremendous import, of course. Athenia's current fleet is outdated and the sails of General Lacides' ships look ready to wear out at any point. It is not just my pleasure as a businessman, but my responsibility as baron of Lyncestia and the premiere shipwright of Athenia to offer your father the opportunity to properly peruse our ships and make his decision as to whether he'd like to reinforce the fleet with superior armaments."
Elias certainly had the ostentatious flair of a merchant, talking well of his goods in the effort to make them all the more palatable to his target audience. The general had yet to arrive, but Vasia of Antonis was well enough of a person to influence her father should she be inclined to assist the Stravos in 'assisting' the kingdom.
"Perhaps, if the journey is too arduous for the general to wish to take, someone else could come to Lyncestia in his place. There is so much to see. Truly, the province has flourished and there's much innovation that's been made in my years as its baron."