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The benefit of having his own staff now meant that his messes were easier to clean up. The office in which he had decimated earlier that morning was now relatively put back together. The destruction didn’t take long for the slaves to clean up, but the prince didn’t take the time to put anything into place, nor did he worry about replacing things on the bare shelves. If anyone went in, he would just explain that he had removed his father’s things to make it his own.
For now, he would just avoid using it altogether.
He could not put off the meeting with Fotios of Leventi, not with so many lives on hold as they waited for the former King’s will to be read. Having never seen it, Emilios was trying to figure out just what it would entail. And, more importantly, why Fotios has been put in charge of it in the first place. Yes, he may have been his father’s closest friend, but that didn’t change the fact that he had two full grown sons who could have managed it without bringing in an outsider to do so. What did it contain that his father wouldn’t want his sons knowing?
Dressing as was fit his station as the head of house, Emilios tried not to think of the deal he and Fotios had made just weeks prior. Thinking about it, and the probability that his brother’s barony would be his just made him sick to his stomach. How could he continue on with Theo in his brother’s former home. He wanted a place of his own, not to continue in his brother’s shadow. The Gods must have hated his family, if this were the case. Or him. Trying not to worry about it, he draped the deep red material over the black chiton, pinning it into place with a Lion signet that used to belong to his father. It was the only thing he wished to keep of his, remembering him wearing it as his time as the head of house. He’d chosen other ways to signify his position as King, but this had always meant something to him.
Instead of using his father’s office, as Fotios may have expected, he chose a smaller, private sitting room his father kept just off of his main suite of rooms. If Fotios found it odd, hopefully he didn’t question his reasoning. But, knowing the man, he probably had heard about the destruction of the room himself.
Taking a seat in the chair his father had always preferred, Emilios allowed one of the servants to bring in a decanter of wine before dismissing him as he waited for Fotios to join him.
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The benefit of having his own staff now meant that his messes were easier to clean up. The office in which he had decimated earlier that morning was now relatively put back together. The destruction didn’t take long for the slaves to clean up, but the prince didn’t take the time to put anything into place, nor did he worry about replacing things on the bare shelves. If anyone went in, he would just explain that he had removed his father’s things to make it his own.
For now, he would just avoid using it altogether.
He could not put off the meeting with Fotios of Leventi, not with so many lives on hold as they waited for the former King’s will to be read. Having never seen it, Emilios was trying to figure out just what it would entail. And, more importantly, why Fotios has been put in charge of it in the first place. Yes, he may have been his father’s closest friend, but that didn’t change the fact that he had two full grown sons who could have managed it without bringing in an outsider to do so. What did it contain that his father wouldn’t want his sons knowing?
Dressing as was fit his station as the head of house, Emilios tried not to think of the deal he and Fotios had made just weeks prior. Thinking about it, and the probability that his brother’s barony would be his just made him sick to his stomach. How could he continue on with Theo in his brother’s former home. He wanted a place of his own, not to continue in his brother’s shadow. The Gods must have hated his family, if this were the case. Or him. Trying not to worry about it, he draped the deep red material over the black chiton, pinning it into place with a Lion signet that used to belong to his father. It was the only thing he wished to keep of his, remembering him wearing it as his time as the head of house. He’d chosen other ways to signify his position as King, but this had always meant something to him.
Instead of using his father’s office, as Fotios may have expected, he chose a smaller, private sitting room his father kept just off of his main suite of rooms. If Fotios found it odd, hopefully he didn’t question his reasoning. But, knowing the man, he probably had heard about the destruction of the room himself.
Taking a seat in the chair his father had always preferred, Emilios allowed one of the servants to bring in a decanter of wine before dismissing him as he waited for Fotios to join him.
The benefit of having his own staff now meant that his messes were easier to clean up. The office in which he had decimated earlier that morning was now relatively put back together. The destruction didn’t take long for the slaves to clean up, but the prince didn’t take the time to put anything into place, nor did he worry about replacing things on the bare shelves. If anyone went in, he would just explain that he had removed his father’s things to make it his own.
For now, he would just avoid using it altogether.
He could not put off the meeting with Fotios of Leventi, not with so many lives on hold as they waited for the former King’s will to be read. Having never seen it, Emilios was trying to figure out just what it would entail. And, more importantly, why Fotios has been put in charge of it in the first place. Yes, he may have been his father’s closest friend, but that didn’t change the fact that he had two full grown sons who could have managed it without bringing in an outsider to do so. What did it contain that his father wouldn’t want his sons knowing?
Dressing as was fit his station as the head of house, Emilios tried not to think of the deal he and Fotios had made just weeks prior. Thinking about it, and the probability that his brother’s barony would be his just made him sick to his stomach. How could he continue on with Theo in his brother’s former home. He wanted a place of his own, not to continue in his brother’s shadow. The Gods must have hated his family, if this were the case. Or him. Trying not to worry about it, he draped the deep red material over the black chiton, pinning it into place with a Lion signet that used to belong to his father. It was the only thing he wished to keep of his, remembering him wearing it as his time as the head of house. He’d chosen other ways to signify his position as King, but this had always meant something to him.
Instead of using his father’s office, as Fotios may have expected, he chose a smaller, private sitting room his father kept just off of his main suite of rooms. If Fotios found it odd, hopefully he didn’t question his reasoning. But, knowing the man, he probably had heard about the destruction of the room himself.
Taking a seat in the chair his father had always preferred, Emilios allowed one of the servants to bring in a decanter of wine before dismissing him as he waited for Fotios to join him.
Fotios was on time. Always.
Arriving at the Mikaelidas manor with what felt like a single moment to spare upon the arranged time, he was kept to one side in the foyer of the estate until its steward determined that the new prince of the realm was ready to host him. It wasn't a long wait and it didn't wrankle Fotios for a moment. The man was technically a prince now. His world would operate upon his own schedule.
Fotios understood that. For his own life had behaved that way for many a decade already for the most part. Even without the title.
When a chief slave appeared and encouraged him to follow them down a series of corridors to a formal sitting room of stature and decorum that he had been in many a time when visiting Irakles, Fotios wasn't surprised that they weren't using the late king's private study. Eirini's source within the estate had made it clear that the new Head of Mikaelidas was not exactly calm in his use of the room. To the point where one servant had been heard to comment that the chamber was beyond saving and would need new furniture.
Regardless, Fotios had no issues with where the two of them met. What he was here to say was of infinitely more importance than where it was said.
And so, he reached the chamber that Prince Emilios already occupied without issue or complaint and entered the room with a lazy sort of comfort that was highly informal. Whilst calm, straight-backed and stoic in the corridors before the slave, before the slave's master he was all familiarity and at perfect ease.
"Thank you for seeing me, Your Highness." He offered the man, before moving to the opposing high-backed chair from his host - the one in which he had always sat when conversing with Irakles over the last three decades. He didn't wait to be offered the position - he simply sat, crossing one leg over the other, resting a forearm on one arm of the seat and his elbow on the other. His fingers rested just slightly upon his chin. "I understand that this is a difficult time for your family, but I thought it important that such business was conducted swiftly."
His comments were halted by the appearance of a servant in formal attire or came in to offer the pouring of the refreshments. But in a rare moment of rejecting wine, Fotios held his hand straight and turned his head away - a dismissal of the offered drink. He waited for the slave to pay the same homage to the prince and then leave the room before he continued speaking.
And even then, he let the quiet in the air hang for a moment.
"I needed to speak with you, Your Highness, because your late father left some... unusual stipulations in his will, with regards to yourself and your brother..." He paused there; his eyes curious as he waited to witness the man's reaction to such news.
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Fotios was on time. Always.
Arriving at the Mikaelidas manor with what felt like a single moment to spare upon the arranged time, he was kept to one side in the foyer of the estate until its steward determined that the new prince of the realm was ready to host him. It wasn't a long wait and it didn't wrankle Fotios for a moment. The man was technically a prince now. His world would operate upon his own schedule.
Fotios understood that. For his own life had behaved that way for many a decade already for the most part. Even without the title.
When a chief slave appeared and encouraged him to follow them down a series of corridors to a formal sitting room of stature and decorum that he had been in many a time when visiting Irakles, Fotios wasn't surprised that they weren't using the late king's private study. Eirini's source within the estate had made it clear that the new Head of Mikaelidas was not exactly calm in his use of the room. To the point where one servant had been heard to comment that the chamber was beyond saving and would need new furniture.
Regardless, Fotios had no issues with where the two of them met. What he was here to say was of infinitely more importance than where it was said.
And so, he reached the chamber that Prince Emilios already occupied without issue or complaint and entered the room with a lazy sort of comfort that was highly informal. Whilst calm, straight-backed and stoic in the corridors before the slave, before the slave's master he was all familiarity and at perfect ease.
"Thank you for seeing me, Your Highness." He offered the man, before moving to the opposing high-backed chair from his host - the one in which he had always sat when conversing with Irakles over the last three decades. He didn't wait to be offered the position - he simply sat, crossing one leg over the other, resting a forearm on one arm of the seat and his elbow on the other. His fingers rested just slightly upon his chin. "I understand that this is a difficult time for your family, but I thought it important that such business was conducted swiftly."
His comments were halted by the appearance of a servant in formal attire or came in to offer the pouring of the refreshments. But in a rare moment of rejecting wine, Fotios held his hand straight and turned his head away - a dismissal of the offered drink. He waited for the slave to pay the same homage to the prince and then leave the room before he continued speaking.
And even then, he let the quiet in the air hang for a moment.
"I needed to speak with you, Your Highness, because your late father left some... unusual stipulations in his will, with regards to yourself and your brother..." He paused there; his eyes curious as he waited to witness the man's reaction to such news.
Fotios was on time. Always.
Arriving at the Mikaelidas manor with what felt like a single moment to spare upon the arranged time, he was kept to one side in the foyer of the estate until its steward determined that the new prince of the realm was ready to host him. It wasn't a long wait and it didn't wrankle Fotios for a moment. The man was technically a prince now. His world would operate upon his own schedule.
Fotios understood that. For his own life had behaved that way for many a decade already for the most part. Even without the title.
When a chief slave appeared and encouraged him to follow them down a series of corridors to a formal sitting room of stature and decorum that he had been in many a time when visiting Irakles, Fotios wasn't surprised that they weren't using the late king's private study. Eirini's source within the estate had made it clear that the new Head of Mikaelidas was not exactly calm in his use of the room. To the point where one servant had been heard to comment that the chamber was beyond saving and would need new furniture.
Regardless, Fotios had no issues with where the two of them met. What he was here to say was of infinitely more importance than where it was said.
And so, he reached the chamber that Prince Emilios already occupied without issue or complaint and entered the room with a lazy sort of comfort that was highly informal. Whilst calm, straight-backed and stoic in the corridors before the slave, before the slave's master he was all familiarity and at perfect ease.
"Thank you for seeing me, Your Highness." He offered the man, before moving to the opposing high-backed chair from his host - the one in which he had always sat when conversing with Irakles over the last three decades. He didn't wait to be offered the position - he simply sat, crossing one leg over the other, resting a forearm on one arm of the seat and his elbow on the other. His fingers rested just slightly upon his chin. "I understand that this is a difficult time for your family, but I thought it important that such business was conducted swiftly."
His comments were halted by the appearance of a servant in formal attire or came in to offer the pouring of the refreshments. But in a rare moment of rejecting wine, Fotios held his hand straight and turned his head away - a dismissal of the offered drink. He waited for the slave to pay the same homage to the prince and then leave the room before he continued speaking.
And even then, he let the quiet in the air hang for a moment.
"I needed to speak with you, Your Highness, because your late father left some... unusual stipulations in his will, with regards to yourself and your brother..." He paused there; his eyes curious as he waited to witness the man's reaction to such news.
Emilios was glad he didn’t have to wait long. He was in the chambers a few moments before Fotios was escorted in, and the Crown Prince wanted nothing more than to raise an eyebrow at the informal way in which he was greeted. It wasn’t as if he had been above Fotios station before, but now with the title of Crown Prince before that of Head of House, the man should have bowed to him. He should have given the newly appointed man far more consideration, but simply decided to let it go for now.
Whatever they had to discuss was more important that preening like a peacock.
As Fotios sat down, Emilios allowed himself a sip of the wine before staring at the man. There was no insult in his lack of refreshments, nor the way he took the chair that had been the one he usually occupied. He refrained from letting the corners of his mouth turn upward, thinking of the times he had run in on the men deep in conversation in his youth. He was impeccably dressed, as always, without a hair out of place. And Emilios knew that he must have looked far worse for wear. His hands held abrasions, knuckles freshly healing from his rampage on his father’s study. Eyes red and puffy from lack of sleep, it was obvious to anyone who looked that the man was running on fumes.
There didn’t seem to be time for small talk, or reminiscing about a man who had died in the bed he had made for his children. And he was glad for it, for he did not wish to spend any more time with this man than necessary.
When Fotios spoke of stipulations, Emilios allowed his eyebrow to raise cautiously. ”And?” He said, urging him to continue with his hand. ”I have not slept since his death and I do not have time to beat around the bush. My father was a man of unusual stipulations.” He said, taking another drink from his wine. ”Which is the reason I’m assuming that he left you in charge of his will, verses either of his capable sons. So out with it-- I have far too much to do and even less time to do it.”
He wasn’t sure that the man was aware of the looming threat of Egypt, but Achilleas was going to have to focus on that, which meant that Emilios was going to be left in charge of the kingdom along side the advisors. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck behind, but he was the heir to the kingdom, and until the King had a child of his own (with the woman he loved), he would have to let his brother fight the battles.
Gods, the amount of responsibility falling on his shoulders was crippling. For a man who expected to spend the rest of his life as simply a soldier, his rise to power was a shock. And it wasn’t exactly one he wanted. A barony, yes. A place for himself, to be able to prove himself, yes. But never the title of Crown Prince. Not one warm body away from being King.
The wine was rich, but the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Emilios was glad he didn’t have to wait long. He was in the chambers a few moments before Fotios was escorted in, and the Crown Prince wanted nothing more than to raise an eyebrow at the informal way in which he was greeted. It wasn’t as if he had been above Fotios station before, but now with the title of Crown Prince before that of Head of House, the man should have bowed to him. He should have given the newly appointed man far more consideration, but simply decided to let it go for now.
Whatever they had to discuss was more important that preening like a peacock.
As Fotios sat down, Emilios allowed himself a sip of the wine before staring at the man. There was no insult in his lack of refreshments, nor the way he took the chair that had been the one he usually occupied. He refrained from letting the corners of his mouth turn upward, thinking of the times he had run in on the men deep in conversation in his youth. He was impeccably dressed, as always, without a hair out of place. And Emilios knew that he must have looked far worse for wear. His hands held abrasions, knuckles freshly healing from his rampage on his father’s study. Eyes red and puffy from lack of sleep, it was obvious to anyone who looked that the man was running on fumes.
There didn’t seem to be time for small talk, or reminiscing about a man who had died in the bed he had made for his children. And he was glad for it, for he did not wish to spend any more time with this man than necessary.
When Fotios spoke of stipulations, Emilios allowed his eyebrow to raise cautiously. ”And?” He said, urging him to continue with his hand. ”I have not slept since his death and I do not have time to beat around the bush. My father was a man of unusual stipulations.” He said, taking another drink from his wine. ”Which is the reason I’m assuming that he left you in charge of his will, verses either of his capable sons. So out with it-- I have far too much to do and even less time to do it.”
He wasn’t sure that the man was aware of the looming threat of Egypt, but Achilleas was going to have to focus on that, which meant that Emilios was going to be left in charge of the kingdom along side the advisors. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck behind, but he was the heir to the kingdom, and until the King had a child of his own (with the woman he loved), he would have to let his brother fight the battles.
Gods, the amount of responsibility falling on his shoulders was crippling. For a man who expected to spend the rest of his life as simply a soldier, his rise to power was a shock. And it wasn’t exactly one he wanted. A barony, yes. A place for himself, to be able to prove himself, yes. But never the title of Crown Prince. Not one warm body away from being King.
The wine was rich, but the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Emilios was glad he didn’t have to wait long. He was in the chambers a few moments before Fotios was escorted in, and the Crown Prince wanted nothing more than to raise an eyebrow at the informal way in which he was greeted. It wasn’t as if he had been above Fotios station before, but now with the title of Crown Prince before that of Head of House, the man should have bowed to him. He should have given the newly appointed man far more consideration, but simply decided to let it go for now.
Whatever they had to discuss was more important that preening like a peacock.
As Fotios sat down, Emilios allowed himself a sip of the wine before staring at the man. There was no insult in his lack of refreshments, nor the way he took the chair that had been the one he usually occupied. He refrained from letting the corners of his mouth turn upward, thinking of the times he had run in on the men deep in conversation in his youth. He was impeccably dressed, as always, without a hair out of place. And Emilios knew that he must have looked far worse for wear. His hands held abrasions, knuckles freshly healing from his rampage on his father’s study. Eyes red and puffy from lack of sleep, it was obvious to anyone who looked that the man was running on fumes.
There didn’t seem to be time for small talk, or reminiscing about a man who had died in the bed he had made for his children. And he was glad for it, for he did not wish to spend any more time with this man than necessary.
When Fotios spoke of stipulations, Emilios allowed his eyebrow to raise cautiously. ”And?” He said, urging him to continue with his hand. ”I have not slept since his death and I do not have time to beat around the bush. My father was a man of unusual stipulations.” He said, taking another drink from his wine. ”Which is the reason I’m assuming that he left you in charge of his will, verses either of his capable sons. So out with it-- I have far too much to do and even less time to do it.”
He wasn’t sure that the man was aware of the looming threat of Egypt, but Achilleas was going to have to focus on that, which meant that Emilios was going to be left in charge of the kingdom along side the advisors. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck behind, but he was the heir to the kingdom, and until the King had a child of his own (with the woman he loved), he would have to let his brother fight the battles.
Gods, the amount of responsibility falling on his shoulders was crippling. For a man who expected to spend the rest of his life as simply a soldier, his rise to power was a shock. And it wasn’t exactly one he wanted. A barony, yes. A place for himself, to be able to prove himself, yes. But never the title of Crown Prince. Not one warm body away from being King.
The wine was rich, but the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Whilst Fotios was careful not to do anything that was a direct insult or injury to the man who sat across from him, he also wasn't one to be pushed along or ordered beyond what was necessary and he rose a lazy eyebrow at Emilios' insistence that they were to hurry their discussions.
It was clear from the man's appearance that authority did not sit well with the younger of Irakles' sons. Only a crown prince for a matter of days, he was already showing signs of wear around his edges and inability in his temperament. His bluntness towards a Head of House of his kingdom was a clear sign of him losing control over his tongue and the disrepair of his hands gave the impression of the same in his body. His admittance to lack of sleep, his mind. The man was, as far as Fotios could see, failing in every respect when it came to the control and dignity expected of a crown prince. And no inherited fibulae that he had spotted on the man's shoulder was going to imbrue him with Irakles' strength or purpose.
It was plain to see how Irakles had jumped at the chance to add the additional considerations to his will that Fotios had only had to make the smallest of suggestions towards.
Watching the man and his inner frustration grow in the lines around his mouth and the redness of his eyes, Fotios' fingers left his face and gestured towards the new prince in a comment of openness.
"If your schedule is so demanding, my prince, perhaps you will welcome the news I have for you." He offered in an optimistic and innocent tone of voice that the steeliness in his eyes betrayed. "For it would seem that your father anticipated concerns of you and your brother's..." He paused as if to search for a word that would not insult. "...natural disposition for the role of Head of House."
From the satchel that he had sported cross his chest and then transferred to sitting beside his hip in the chair upon sitting, Fotios drew a clay tablet that he set upon the little table next to his chair. There was no need for Emilios to read it, as he would only be quoting the truth of its writing. But the man would need to see that the information was formalised.
"This is but a copy. The full will of your father remains with the offices of law." Where it could not be tampered with. His tone implied the words, but he didn't speak them aloud. Any documentation kept at the offices of law were verified, and made a record of in multiple locations so as to avoid anyone destroying unfavourable reports or holdings. "The stipulations in question were written back when your cousin was king and did then pertain to both you and His Majesty, but now that the crown has fallen to him, the rules of Head of Houseship are to be of concern to you alone." Fotios shrugged one shoulder. "And I see no reason to make it any more public than it needs to be for the sake of your family's reputation..."
His eyes lost their casual distraction and he fixed Emilios was with a stare of certain confidence. One that could only be made by a man who had spent months covering every base and determining every factor before the trap sprang shut.
"The will regarding the Head of the House of Mikaelidas can be summated as such... Your father didn't trust that either yourself or your brother were ready for the title. Which meant that, while the name of Head passes to you as all others would expect and perceive, no documentation produced by that Head is permitted to be legal and binding... until it is counter-signed by a particular guarantor - specified by Irakles himself." Fotios watched for Emilios' reaction for a moment before confirming what the man would already suspect. "Which would be me."
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Whilst Fotios was careful not to do anything that was a direct insult or injury to the man who sat across from him, he also wasn't one to be pushed along or ordered beyond what was necessary and he rose a lazy eyebrow at Emilios' insistence that they were to hurry their discussions.
It was clear from the man's appearance that authority did not sit well with the younger of Irakles' sons. Only a crown prince for a matter of days, he was already showing signs of wear around his edges and inability in his temperament. His bluntness towards a Head of House of his kingdom was a clear sign of him losing control over his tongue and the disrepair of his hands gave the impression of the same in his body. His admittance to lack of sleep, his mind. The man was, as far as Fotios could see, failing in every respect when it came to the control and dignity expected of a crown prince. And no inherited fibulae that he had spotted on the man's shoulder was going to imbrue him with Irakles' strength or purpose.
It was plain to see how Irakles had jumped at the chance to add the additional considerations to his will that Fotios had only had to make the smallest of suggestions towards.
Watching the man and his inner frustration grow in the lines around his mouth and the redness of his eyes, Fotios' fingers left his face and gestured towards the new prince in a comment of openness.
"If your schedule is so demanding, my prince, perhaps you will welcome the news I have for you." He offered in an optimistic and innocent tone of voice that the steeliness in his eyes betrayed. "For it would seem that your father anticipated concerns of you and your brother's..." He paused as if to search for a word that would not insult. "...natural disposition for the role of Head of House."
From the satchel that he had sported cross his chest and then transferred to sitting beside his hip in the chair upon sitting, Fotios drew a clay tablet that he set upon the little table next to his chair. There was no need for Emilios to read it, as he would only be quoting the truth of its writing. But the man would need to see that the information was formalised.
"This is but a copy. The full will of your father remains with the offices of law." Where it could not be tampered with. His tone implied the words, but he didn't speak them aloud. Any documentation kept at the offices of law were verified, and made a record of in multiple locations so as to avoid anyone destroying unfavourable reports or holdings. "The stipulations in question were written back when your cousin was king and did then pertain to both you and His Majesty, but now that the crown has fallen to him, the rules of Head of Houseship are to be of concern to you alone." Fotios shrugged one shoulder. "And I see no reason to make it any more public than it needs to be for the sake of your family's reputation..."
His eyes lost their casual distraction and he fixed Emilios was with a stare of certain confidence. One that could only be made by a man who had spent months covering every base and determining every factor before the trap sprang shut.
"The will regarding the Head of the House of Mikaelidas can be summated as such... Your father didn't trust that either yourself or your brother were ready for the title. Which meant that, while the name of Head passes to you as all others would expect and perceive, no documentation produced by that Head is permitted to be legal and binding... until it is counter-signed by a particular guarantor - specified by Irakles himself." Fotios watched for Emilios' reaction for a moment before confirming what the man would already suspect. "Which would be me."
Whilst Fotios was careful not to do anything that was a direct insult or injury to the man who sat across from him, he also wasn't one to be pushed along or ordered beyond what was necessary and he rose a lazy eyebrow at Emilios' insistence that they were to hurry their discussions.
It was clear from the man's appearance that authority did not sit well with the younger of Irakles' sons. Only a crown prince for a matter of days, he was already showing signs of wear around his edges and inability in his temperament. His bluntness towards a Head of House of his kingdom was a clear sign of him losing control over his tongue and the disrepair of his hands gave the impression of the same in his body. His admittance to lack of sleep, his mind. The man was, as far as Fotios could see, failing in every respect when it came to the control and dignity expected of a crown prince. And no inherited fibulae that he had spotted on the man's shoulder was going to imbrue him with Irakles' strength or purpose.
It was plain to see how Irakles had jumped at the chance to add the additional considerations to his will that Fotios had only had to make the smallest of suggestions towards.
Watching the man and his inner frustration grow in the lines around his mouth and the redness of his eyes, Fotios' fingers left his face and gestured towards the new prince in a comment of openness.
"If your schedule is so demanding, my prince, perhaps you will welcome the news I have for you." He offered in an optimistic and innocent tone of voice that the steeliness in his eyes betrayed. "For it would seem that your father anticipated concerns of you and your brother's..." He paused as if to search for a word that would not insult. "...natural disposition for the role of Head of House."
From the satchel that he had sported cross his chest and then transferred to sitting beside his hip in the chair upon sitting, Fotios drew a clay tablet that he set upon the little table next to his chair. There was no need for Emilios to read it, as he would only be quoting the truth of its writing. But the man would need to see that the information was formalised.
"This is but a copy. The full will of your father remains with the offices of law." Where it could not be tampered with. His tone implied the words, but he didn't speak them aloud. Any documentation kept at the offices of law were verified, and made a record of in multiple locations so as to avoid anyone destroying unfavourable reports or holdings. "The stipulations in question were written back when your cousin was king and did then pertain to both you and His Majesty, but now that the crown has fallen to him, the rules of Head of Houseship are to be of concern to you alone." Fotios shrugged one shoulder. "And I see no reason to make it any more public than it needs to be for the sake of your family's reputation..."
His eyes lost their casual distraction and he fixed Emilios was with a stare of certain confidence. One that could only be made by a man who had spent months covering every base and determining every factor before the trap sprang shut.
"The will regarding the Head of the House of Mikaelidas can be summated as such... Your father didn't trust that either yourself or your brother were ready for the title. Which meant that, while the name of Head passes to you as all others would expect and perceive, no documentation produced by that Head is permitted to be legal and binding... until it is counter-signed by a particular guarantor - specified by Irakles himself." Fotios watched for Emilios' reaction for a moment before confirming what the man would already suspect. "Which would be me."
Emotions were a weakness, but Emilios had always been the strong-willed one, quick to let them show on his sleeve without much restraint. But he was quickly realizing that in the political spectrum on things, having open feelings were dangerous. Enemies were abounded in court. And it was becoming all too apparent that his father thought it a sign of his ineptitude.
He hadn’t slept because of his grief, not of the struggles and stress of being head of house. He was starting to come to terms with that part of his life, with the idea that he had more to do than just sleep around. He wanted to be better, even if it didn’t always seem that way. And it was easier to slip into his old ways than to shoulder the burden of responsibility. Hadn’t he proved to his father that he wasn’t a complete screw-up? Irakles had given him the responsibility before his death, and he had made sure to do most of it without making mistakes.
And yet, according to Fotios, the trial period put forth by his father was not enough.
It was impossible to know what hurt more-- the fact that his father hadn’t trusted him in life, or that he hadn’t trusted him in death, either.
Eyes narrowing, Emilios didn’t bother to look over the stone in front of him. Pulling it closer, so that he could retain a copy to council with his brother on, the dark-haired man stared hard at the man across from him. If he had learned anything about Fotios, it was that he lived in the truth, doling out the information needed as he saw fit. He tried to hide his emotions further, but exhaustion made it difficult. He was hurt and a bit defeated by this. But in reality, what did it matter? The day to day running of the household would rarely need the Leventi’s input.
Yes, there were things like the half-sisters he tried not to think of. And perhaps Meena. But nothing else should have mattered at that point. Achilleas would have to make the decisions of Stephanos’s sisters, right? That wasn’t wholly on his shoulders.
And even if it was, it wasn’t really. Because Fotios had to babysit every decision he tried to make.
Bastard.
”Is there anything else my father left for a surprise upon his death? A son he would rather claim as heir, perhaps? Or financial ruin he’d like to install without delay?” Even in death, it was apparent that the man hated his sons so much that he wouldn’t let them attempt to make it on their own. ”Please, don’t let me ruin this moment for you by reading it for myself.”
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Emotions were a weakness, but Emilios had always been the strong-willed one, quick to let them show on his sleeve without much restraint. But he was quickly realizing that in the political spectrum on things, having open feelings were dangerous. Enemies were abounded in court. And it was becoming all too apparent that his father thought it a sign of his ineptitude.
He hadn’t slept because of his grief, not of the struggles and stress of being head of house. He was starting to come to terms with that part of his life, with the idea that he had more to do than just sleep around. He wanted to be better, even if it didn’t always seem that way. And it was easier to slip into his old ways than to shoulder the burden of responsibility. Hadn’t he proved to his father that he wasn’t a complete screw-up? Irakles had given him the responsibility before his death, and he had made sure to do most of it without making mistakes.
And yet, according to Fotios, the trial period put forth by his father was not enough.
It was impossible to know what hurt more-- the fact that his father hadn’t trusted him in life, or that he hadn’t trusted him in death, either.
Eyes narrowing, Emilios didn’t bother to look over the stone in front of him. Pulling it closer, so that he could retain a copy to council with his brother on, the dark-haired man stared hard at the man across from him. If he had learned anything about Fotios, it was that he lived in the truth, doling out the information needed as he saw fit. He tried to hide his emotions further, but exhaustion made it difficult. He was hurt and a bit defeated by this. But in reality, what did it matter? The day to day running of the household would rarely need the Leventi’s input.
Yes, there were things like the half-sisters he tried not to think of. And perhaps Meena. But nothing else should have mattered at that point. Achilleas would have to make the decisions of Stephanos’s sisters, right? That wasn’t wholly on his shoulders.
And even if it was, it wasn’t really. Because Fotios had to babysit every decision he tried to make.
Bastard.
”Is there anything else my father left for a surprise upon his death? A son he would rather claim as heir, perhaps? Or financial ruin he’d like to install without delay?” Even in death, it was apparent that the man hated his sons so much that he wouldn’t let them attempt to make it on their own. ”Please, don’t let me ruin this moment for you by reading it for myself.”
Emotions were a weakness, but Emilios had always been the strong-willed one, quick to let them show on his sleeve without much restraint. But he was quickly realizing that in the political spectrum on things, having open feelings were dangerous. Enemies were abounded in court. And it was becoming all too apparent that his father thought it a sign of his ineptitude.
He hadn’t slept because of his grief, not of the struggles and stress of being head of house. He was starting to come to terms with that part of his life, with the idea that he had more to do than just sleep around. He wanted to be better, even if it didn’t always seem that way. And it was easier to slip into his old ways than to shoulder the burden of responsibility. Hadn’t he proved to his father that he wasn’t a complete screw-up? Irakles had given him the responsibility before his death, and he had made sure to do most of it without making mistakes.
And yet, according to Fotios, the trial period put forth by his father was not enough.
It was impossible to know what hurt more-- the fact that his father hadn’t trusted him in life, or that he hadn’t trusted him in death, either.
Eyes narrowing, Emilios didn’t bother to look over the stone in front of him. Pulling it closer, so that he could retain a copy to council with his brother on, the dark-haired man stared hard at the man across from him. If he had learned anything about Fotios, it was that he lived in the truth, doling out the information needed as he saw fit. He tried to hide his emotions further, but exhaustion made it difficult. He was hurt and a bit defeated by this. But in reality, what did it matter? The day to day running of the household would rarely need the Leventi’s input.
Yes, there were things like the half-sisters he tried not to think of. And perhaps Meena. But nothing else should have mattered at that point. Achilleas would have to make the decisions of Stephanos’s sisters, right? That wasn’t wholly on his shoulders.
And even if it was, it wasn’t really. Because Fotios had to babysit every decision he tried to make.
Bastard.
”Is there anything else my father left for a surprise upon his death? A son he would rather claim as heir, perhaps? Or financial ruin he’d like to install without delay?” Even in death, it was apparent that the man hated his sons so much that he wouldn’t let them attempt to make it on their own. ”Please, don’t let me ruin this moment for you by reading it for myself.”
Fotios shook his head at Emilios' hostility. His shoulders seemed to ripple in a sort of wounded shrug to dislodge the allegations of enjoyment.
"You misunderstand me, if you think me taking pleasure in this, my prince." He told the man, his tongue silken and silver as always. He shook his head, as if it were a sad responsibility for him to have been here. "I am simply following the instructions given by your late father." He offered that same little shrug again. "I cannot help it if the late King saw fit to offer me great power in his own will and testament."
Except, of course, that he could... for it had been his own suggestion and moaning of his own daughters’ inability to marry - a complaint he had staged at an appropriate moment when Irakles' confidence in his sons was at its lowest - so that the man would suggest their exchange of responsibilities. Fotios would hold the legal power of the Mikaelidas Head of House, and Irakles would hold it for Leventi, should anything happen to either of them... Of course, that particular tidbit of Fotios' had been changed within hours of Irakles' demise. His lands and name would go to his brothers, whether he thought them valid holders of the title or not. Only a Leventi would rule the Leventi.
It wasn't his fault that Achilleas and Emilios had left their father with such fears for their suitability as heirs. Fotios certainly hadn't encouraged Achilleas to propose marriage to the girl his brother was secretly rutting.
Speaking of which...
"There are no further surprises as you state them." He told the man with a soft shake of his head. "And I assure you that while the barony deeds of the Mikaelidas lands will reside with me for the time being, I am to be true to my word... provided you are true to yours... How is the new Queen?"
Fotios's eyes flashed but it was the only hint at his final master stroke. As Head of House, Emilios should have held power over every barony to bear the lion sigil. Instead, Fotios had ensured that those powers rested with him and was willing to doll out only the single barony he had promised... for the price of continuing his affair with the new Queen...
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Fotios shook his head at Emilios' hostility. His shoulders seemed to ripple in a sort of wounded shrug to dislodge the allegations of enjoyment.
"You misunderstand me, if you think me taking pleasure in this, my prince." He told the man, his tongue silken and silver as always. He shook his head, as if it were a sad responsibility for him to have been here. "I am simply following the instructions given by your late father." He offered that same little shrug again. "I cannot help it if the late King saw fit to offer me great power in his own will and testament."
Except, of course, that he could... for it had been his own suggestion and moaning of his own daughters’ inability to marry - a complaint he had staged at an appropriate moment when Irakles' confidence in his sons was at its lowest - so that the man would suggest their exchange of responsibilities. Fotios would hold the legal power of the Mikaelidas Head of House, and Irakles would hold it for Leventi, should anything happen to either of them... Of course, that particular tidbit of Fotios' had been changed within hours of Irakles' demise. His lands and name would go to his brothers, whether he thought them valid holders of the title or not. Only a Leventi would rule the Leventi.
It wasn't his fault that Achilleas and Emilios had left their father with such fears for their suitability as heirs. Fotios certainly hadn't encouraged Achilleas to propose marriage to the girl his brother was secretly rutting.
Speaking of which...
"There are no further surprises as you state them." He told the man with a soft shake of his head. "And I assure you that while the barony deeds of the Mikaelidas lands will reside with me for the time being, I am to be true to my word... provided you are true to yours... How is the new Queen?"
Fotios's eyes flashed but it was the only hint at his final master stroke. As Head of House, Emilios should have held power over every barony to bear the lion sigil. Instead, Fotios had ensured that those powers rested with him and was willing to doll out only the single barony he had promised... for the price of continuing his affair with the new Queen...
Fotios shook his head at Emilios' hostility. His shoulders seemed to ripple in a sort of wounded shrug to dislodge the allegations of enjoyment.
"You misunderstand me, if you think me taking pleasure in this, my prince." He told the man, his tongue silken and silver as always. He shook his head, as if it were a sad responsibility for him to have been here. "I am simply following the instructions given by your late father." He offered that same little shrug again. "I cannot help it if the late King saw fit to offer me great power in his own will and testament."
Except, of course, that he could... for it had been his own suggestion and moaning of his own daughters’ inability to marry - a complaint he had staged at an appropriate moment when Irakles' confidence in his sons was at its lowest - so that the man would suggest their exchange of responsibilities. Fotios would hold the legal power of the Mikaelidas Head of House, and Irakles would hold it for Leventi, should anything happen to either of them... Of course, that particular tidbit of Fotios' had been changed within hours of Irakles' demise. His lands and name would go to his brothers, whether he thought them valid holders of the title or not. Only a Leventi would rule the Leventi.
It wasn't his fault that Achilleas and Emilios had left their father with such fears for their suitability as heirs. Fotios certainly hadn't encouraged Achilleas to propose marriage to the girl his brother was secretly rutting.
Speaking of which...
"There are no further surprises as you state them." He told the man with a soft shake of his head. "And I assure you that while the barony deeds of the Mikaelidas lands will reside with me for the time being, I am to be true to my word... provided you are true to yours... How is the new Queen?"
Fotios's eyes flashed but it was the only hint at his final master stroke. As Head of House, Emilios should have held power over every barony to bear the lion sigil. Instead, Fotios had ensured that those powers rested with him and was willing to doll out only the single barony he had promised... for the price of continuing his affair with the new Queen...
If he could have punched the man, Emilios would have. But if Stephanos had taught him anything, it was that he needed to learn to keep his cool. And even as emotional has he felt, as much as he wanted to rage against the man across from him, he knew that he needed to keep his cool for now. Leventi’s wanted nothing but more power and control-- they were known for it. So for him to sit and pretend like this was a ‘burden’ for him to bear was insulting.
But he would hold his tongue. Because as much as the man was partially to blame for all of this, at the end of the day, his father had made the choice. The man had so little faith in his sons that he had chosen to put someone else in charge.
He was a son of a bitch.
”Of course not. I would imagine that you’d have to settle looking after your friend’s sons, since you had none of your own.” It was a minor retort, but one that felt good regardless. The man had far too many women to see settled, and Emilios wasn’t sure how he would find time to do that AND worry about a whole nother house with its own politics, outside of the crown. He made a note to speak with his brother about this stipulation, sure that he would hear about it sooner or later.
But it Fotios was quick to remind Emilios of their bargain, one the man had almost forgotten about with everything that had happened in the past few days. ”I doubt that seducing the Queen back into my bed would suddenly remove you from your ‘burden’.” He said, keeping his voice even as he took a drink of his wine. ”Would be in poor form to seduce a bride so soon after her wedding. I will have plenty of time to keep my end of the bargain with Achilleas handling the Egyptian threat.”
”Was that all?” He was quickly losing his patience with the man, wanting him to leave so that he could drink himself into a stupor and stop mourning the man who was dead set on ruining the lives of his sons. It would be important for him to confer with his brother on this, to see just how much influence they thought he would actually have a say over. He may have not been able to make decisions as head of house alone, but he was still the crown prince. And that role was not one that his father could control.
He would have to think. And grow up, apparently. The Gods obviously found it amusing to put him in this position in the first place, and he wasn’t sure what he wished to do. But he did know that he needed to speak with his brother, as a Mikaelidas, and not as the King.
Perhaps they would be able to find a solution, or a loophole, to Irakles’s last dig at his sons.
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If he could have punched the man, Emilios would have. But if Stephanos had taught him anything, it was that he needed to learn to keep his cool. And even as emotional has he felt, as much as he wanted to rage against the man across from him, he knew that he needed to keep his cool for now. Leventi’s wanted nothing but more power and control-- they were known for it. So for him to sit and pretend like this was a ‘burden’ for him to bear was insulting.
But he would hold his tongue. Because as much as the man was partially to blame for all of this, at the end of the day, his father had made the choice. The man had so little faith in his sons that he had chosen to put someone else in charge.
He was a son of a bitch.
”Of course not. I would imagine that you’d have to settle looking after your friend’s sons, since you had none of your own.” It was a minor retort, but one that felt good regardless. The man had far too many women to see settled, and Emilios wasn’t sure how he would find time to do that AND worry about a whole nother house with its own politics, outside of the crown. He made a note to speak with his brother about this stipulation, sure that he would hear about it sooner or later.
But it Fotios was quick to remind Emilios of their bargain, one the man had almost forgotten about with everything that had happened in the past few days. ”I doubt that seducing the Queen back into my bed would suddenly remove you from your ‘burden’.” He said, keeping his voice even as he took a drink of his wine. ”Would be in poor form to seduce a bride so soon after her wedding. I will have plenty of time to keep my end of the bargain with Achilleas handling the Egyptian threat.”
”Was that all?” He was quickly losing his patience with the man, wanting him to leave so that he could drink himself into a stupor and stop mourning the man who was dead set on ruining the lives of his sons. It would be important for him to confer with his brother on this, to see just how much influence they thought he would actually have a say over. He may have not been able to make decisions as head of house alone, but he was still the crown prince. And that role was not one that his father could control.
He would have to think. And grow up, apparently. The Gods obviously found it amusing to put him in this position in the first place, and he wasn’t sure what he wished to do. But he did know that he needed to speak with his brother, as a Mikaelidas, and not as the King.
Perhaps they would be able to find a solution, or a loophole, to Irakles’s last dig at his sons.
If he could have punched the man, Emilios would have. But if Stephanos had taught him anything, it was that he needed to learn to keep his cool. And even as emotional has he felt, as much as he wanted to rage against the man across from him, he knew that he needed to keep his cool for now. Leventi’s wanted nothing but more power and control-- they were known for it. So for him to sit and pretend like this was a ‘burden’ for him to bear was insulting.
But he would hold his tongue. Because as much as the man was partially to blame for all of this, at the end of the day, his father had made the choice. The man had so little faith in his sons that he had chosen to put someone else in charge.
He was a son of a bitch.
”Of course not. I would imagine that you’d have to settle looking after your friend’s sons, since you had none of your own.” It was a minor retort, but one that felt good regardless. The man had far too many women to see settled, and Emilios wasn’t sure how he would find time to do that AND worry about a whole nother house with its own politics, outside of the crown. He made a note to speak with his brother about this stipulation, sure that he would hear about it sooner or later.
But it Fotios was quick to remind Emilios of their bargain, one the man had almost forgotten about with everything that had happened in the past few days. ”I doubt that seducing the Queen back into my bed would suddenly remove you from your ‘burden’.” He said, keeping his voice even as he took a drink of his wine. ”Would be in poor form to seduce a bride so soon after her wedding. I will have plenty of time to keep my end of the bargain with Achilleas handling the Egyptian threat.”
”Was that all?” He was quickly losing his patience with the man, wanting him to leave so that he could drink himself into a stupor and stop mourning the man who was dead set on ruining the lives of his sons. It would be important for him to confer with his brother on this, to see just how much influence they thought he would actually have a say over. He may have not been able to make decisions as head of house alone, but he was still the crown prince. And that role was not one that his father could control.
He would have to think. And grow up, apparently. The Gods obviously found it amusing to put him in this position in the first place, and he wasn’t sure what he wished to do. But he did know that he needed to speak with his brother, as a Mikaelidas, and not as the King.
Perhaps they would be able to find a solution, or a loophole, to Irakles’s last dig at his sons.
The snipe regarding his, so far, inability to produce a son hit its mark. Regardless of how small the words might have been, there was something about a single weak point in one's life that made the targets that hit it all the more tender and painful. And Fotios felt such words hit him where they would spark the most agony - his heart, his hopes... his manhood. Not to mention the fact that everyone knew that the gender of a child was the responsibility of its mother (however subconscious it was) and to raise it was an insult to Eirini... a fourth area that was being dragged through the mud with only a few words of derogatory cruelty.
Luckily, Fotios had been playing the political game for decades longer than Emilios and he was able to hide the depth to which the words struck his most vulnerable chords. His lip curled a little and his eyes flashed a very dark and very dangerous glint but otherwise he remained in complete calm of himself. The desire to perhaps tie the stupid boy up and start in with a blunt knife and the skin between his fingers was stifled and never rose to appear on his face. In reality, he simply didn't respond to such comments.
If he were a man who rose to such baits, he would have been dead a very long time ago.
"Of course." Were Fotios's next words, spoken only after Emilios had assured him of his side of the bargain they had struck some weeks prior. "So much more gallant to seduce said wife while the competition is out of the country." He commented, to snipe back in a moment he regretted as being childish.
He reined his temper back in, however, when Emilios asked with a tone of displeasure if that was all upon his time - as if Fotios was holding him up from his drinking and violent destruction of his father's belongings or whatever it was he had been doing before his arrival.
"Actually, no." He stated, cutting off Emilios' power with just those words and declaring there and then who held the authority between them regardless of who held a higher rank on paper. There was a pause before he knitted his fingers together into a lattice across his chest. "Your cousin - the Princess Xene." He said, careful as to how he approached this conversation. "My wife says that she is concerned of her and her sister's living situation."
One of his hands un-steepled from the conversation and made a casual gesture in the air.
"I only mention it to suggest that... were you to put forward the paperwork for the princess to become baroness of one of the provinces - Euttica perhaps, as I doubt you hold much interest in it now that it was once to become your brother and sister-in-law's home - it would receive a seal of approval from myself." His tone was casual but it was clear that this was an instruction rather than a suggestion. "I honestly care not which province you choose might befit her - speak with her on which she might prefer." He offered a slight shrug, before allowing the boot that had crossed over the other leg to cross back and find the floor. He spoke his next words taking hold of the arms of his chair and pushing himself to his feet. "I simply wished you to know that such a decision would - I believe - be a wise one."
Offering a bow to the man, his arm crossed so that his hand found the open space in front of his heart, Fotios' act of penitence was perfect besides the words that left his lips as he straightened.
"Now, we're done." He stated, before leaving the room, without waiting to be dismissed by the man who was now crown prince of the kingdom.
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The snipe regarding his, so far, inability to produce a son hit its mark. Regardless of how small the words might have been, there was something about a single weak point in one's life that made the targets that hit it all the more tender and painful. And Fotios felt such words hit him where they would spark the most agony - his heart, his hopes... his manhood. Not to mention the fact that everyone knew that the gender of a child was the responsibility of its mother (however subconscious it was) and to raise it was an insult to Eirini... a fourth area that was being dragged through the mud with only a few words of derogatory cruelty.
Luckily, Fotios had been playing the political game for decades longer than Emilios and he was able to hide the depth to which the words struck his most vulnerable chords. His lip curled a little and his eyes flashed a very dark and very dangerous glint but otherwise he remained in complete calm of himself. The desire to perhaps tie the stupid boy up and start in with a blunt knife and the skin between his fingers was stifled and never rose to appear on his face. In reality, he simply didn't respond to such comments.
If he were a man who rose to such baits, he would have been dead a very long time ago.
"Of course." Were Fotios's next words, spoken only after Emilios had assured him of his side of the bargain they had struck some weeks prior. "So much more gallant to seduce said wife while the competition is out of the country." He commented, to snipe back in a moment he regretted as being childish.
He reined his temper back in, however, when Emilios asked with a tone of displeasure if that was all upon his time - as if Fotios was holding him up from his drinking and violent destruction of his father's belongings or whatever it was he had been doing before his arrival.
"Actually, no." He stated, cutting off Emilios' power with just those words and declaring there and then who held the authority between them regardless of who held a higher rank on paper. There was a pause before he knitted his fingers together into a lattice across his chest. "Your cousin - the Princess Xene." He said, careful as to how he approached this conversation. "My wife says that she is concerned of her and her sister's living situation."
One of his hands un-steepled from the conversation and made a casual gesture in the air.
"I only mention it to suggest that... were you to put forward the paperwork for the princess to become baroness of one of the provinces - Euttica perhaps, as I doubt you hold much interest in it now that it was once to become your brother and sister-in-law's home - it would receive a seal of approval from myself." His tone was casual but it was clear that this was an instruction rather than a suggestion. "I honestly care not which province you choose might befit her - speak with her on which she might prefer." He offered a slight shrug, before allowing the boot that had crossed over the other leg to cross back and find the floor. He spoke his next words taking hold of the arms of his chair and pushing himself to his feet. "I simply wished you to know that such a decision would - I believe - be a wise one."
Offering a bow to the man, his arm crossed so that his hand found the open space in front of his heart, Fotios' act of penitence was perfect besides the words that left his lips as he straightened.
"Now, we're done." He stated, before leaving the room, without waiting to be dismissed by the man who was now crown prince of the kingdom.
The snipe regarding his, so far, inability to produce a son hit its mark. Regardless of how small the words might have been, there was something about a single weak point in one's life that made the targets that hit it all the more tender and painful. And Fotios felt such words hit him where they would spark the most agony - his heart, his hopes... his manhood. Not to mention the fact that everyone knew that the gender of a child was the responsibility of its mother (however subconscious it was) and to raise it was an insult to Eirini... a fourth area that was being dragged through the mud with only a few words of derogatory cruelty.
Luckily, Fotios had been playing the political game for decades longer than Emilios and he was able to hide the depth to which the words struck his most vulnerable chords. His lip curled a little and his eyes flashed a very dark and very dangerous glint but otherwise he remained in complete calm of himself. The desire to perhaps tie the stupid boy up and start in with a blunt knife and the skin between his fingers was stifled and never rose to appear on his face. In reality, he simply didn't respond to such comments.
If he were a man who rose to such baits, he would have been dead a very long time ago.
"Of course." Were Fotios's next words, spoken only after Emilios had assured him of his side of the bargain they had struck some weeks prior. "So much more gallant to seduce said wife while the competition is out of the country." He commented, to snipe back in a moment he regretted as being childish.
He reined his temper back in, however, when Emilios asked with a tone of displeasure if that was all upon his time - as if Fotios was holding him up from his drinking and violent destruction of his father's belongings or whatever it was he had been doing before his arrival.
"Actually, no." He stated, cutting off Emilios' power with just those words and declaring there and then who held the authority between them regardless of who held a higher rank on paper. There was a pause before he knitted his fingers together into a lattice across his chest. "Your cousin - the Princess Xene." He said, careful as to how he approached this conversation. "My wife says that she is concerned of her and her sister's living situation."
One of his hands un-steepled from the conversation and made a casual gesture in the air.
"I only mention it to suggest that... were you to put forward the paperwork for the princess to become baroness of one of the provinces - Euttica perhaps, as I doubt you hold much interest in it now that it was once to become your brother and sister-in-law's home - it would receive a seal of approval from myself." His tone was casual but it was clear that this was an instruction rather than a suggestion. "I honestly care not which province you choose might befit her - speak with her on which she might prefer." He offered a slight shrug, before allowing the boot that had crossed over the other leg to cross back and find the floor. He spoke his next words taking hold of the arms of his chair and pushing himself to his feet. "I simply wished you to know that such a decision would - I believe - be a wise one."
Offering a bow to the man, his arm crossed so that his hand found the open space in front of his heart, Fotios' act of penitence was perfect besides the words that left his lips as he straightened.
"Now, we're done." He stated, before leaving the room, without waiting to be dismissed by the man who was now crown prince of the kingdom.
He took far more joy from the jab then he should have. Had he not been feeling so petty, he would have felt a bit of sympathy for the man. There was a sadness that came with the knowledge that daughters were your only fate. At least the family name would live on with his nephew, but he had no qualms with making the dig. There was far more he wished to say, but with Fotios’ hand in his family’s dealings he needed to keep his wits about him.
He needed a drink alone, to swallow down the bitter taste of his father’s final betrayal.
There was no denying that he would betray his brother in the worst way. As the news of Egyptian threat grew, it only meant that the King would be away. And Emilios would find himself acting as Regent within the Kingdom. There would be more for him to worry about then their agreement to continue the affair. Yet the man felt the need to remind him yet again. If he could have safely rolled his eyes, he would have. Instead, he shrugged, ”Well, tis not my fault that his wedding and ascension to the war come on the heels of war.”
He was ready for the man to be off his property (for even if all decisions had to go to him, it was still Mikaelidas property that did not belong to the Leventi), and yet he stopped with more his wished to discuss. Emilios knew he needed to calm down, that even with his rage over the current situation, a level head was needed. He’d never been good at it, but he would need to start sooner rather than later, if Fotios was going to have a hand in all his dealings from now on ”Neither my brother nor myself have given any reason for my cousin to be concerned over her living arrangements. Just because there is indication that Meena will be finding new residence does not mean I plan to do the same for the cousins. And surely, you would not let me either way.”
He took a drink from his own cup, then set it down and stood. ”Xene has always struck me as a girl who wanted more than her lot.” She didn’t need Fotios to play her messenger, and frankly, he’d given little reason for his cousin not to just approach him directly about it. She was not the bastard child of his father. Her title remained princess, but it seemed that she didn’t wish for that either, else she wouldn’t have spoken with the Leventi’s about it.
And just why, in Gods name, would she cause to speak to his wife, of all people? Perhaps he would have a conversation with his cousin, to make sure they were directly aligned, as his trust for Fotios was currently at the same level as his trust for his dead father.
Perhaps she just needed a reminder that she had another head of house she could come to, if she needed support and backing.
”Regardless of her concern, I will speak to my brother about Euttica to ensure he didn’t have plans for it. But, so long as the King agrees with the assertion that Euttica should belong to Xene, then I have no problem drawing up the necessary paperwork for you to countersign.” Although he would glare and fume the whole time he did. ”If not Euttica, then something of her choosing. Her family need not worry-- she is Mikaelidas and we protect our own.” Perhaps his father had thought differently of what that protection meant. But there was a new generation of Mikaelidas men, and perhaps between Stephanos, Achilleas and himself, they could bring a different strength to the table.
Once his brother forgave him for sleeping with his wife.
Fotios took his exit, and Emilios wasn’t even upset with the slight. The Leventi had shown that he held most of the power when it came to the seat, but perhaps there was more that could be done as Achilleas bore the crown. While he felt shame in his father’s obviously final blow to his youngest son, it was a shame he would share with his brother. In this, they would be on the same page. ”Son of a bitch.” He said under his breath, once he was certain that Fotios was no longer under his roof. Emilios needed air.
Or a drink.
Or a whore.
Why did he have to choose?
Instead, he settled for doing the responsible thing and reading the will presented in front of him, searching for anything else that Fotios may have kept from him in hopes that he wouldn’t read it at all. His father always wanted him to step up and do the right thing.
Perhaps he would start now.
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He took far more joy from the jab then he should have. Had he not been feeling so petty, he would have felt a bit of sympathy for the man. There was a sadness that came with the knowledge that daughters were your only fate. At least the family name would live on with his nephew, but he had no qualms with making the dig. There was far more he wished to say, but with Fotios’ hand in his family’s dealings he needed to keep his wits about him.
He needed a drink alone, to swallow down the bitter taste of his father’s final betrayal.
There was no denying that he would betray his brother in the worst way. As the news of Egyptian threat grew, it only meant that the King would be away. And Emilios would find himself acting as Regent within the Kingdom. There would be more for him to worry about then their agreement to continue the affair. Yet the man felt the need to remind him yet again. If he could have safely rolled his eyes, he would have. Instead, he shrugged, ”Well, tis not my fault that his wedding and ascension to the war come on the heels of war.”
He was ready for the man to be off his property (for even if all decisions had to go to him, it was still Mikaelidas property that did not belong to the Leventi), and yet he stopped with more his wished to discuss. Emilios knew he needed to calm down, that even with his rage over the current situation, a level head was needed. He’d never been good at it, but he would need to start sooner rather than later, if Fotios was going to have a hand in all his dealings from now on ”Neither my brother nor myself have given any reason for my cousin to be concerned over her living arrangements. Just because there is indication that Meena will be finding new residence does not mean I plan to do the same for the cousins. And surely, you would not let me either way.”
He took a drink from his own cup, then set it down and stood. ”Xene has always struck me as a girl who wanted more than her lot.” She didn’t need Fotios to play her messenger, and frankly, he’d given little reason for his cousin not to just approach him directly about it. She was not the bastard child of his father. Her title remained princess, but it seemed that she didn’t wish for that either, else she wouldn’t have spoken with the Leventi’s about it.
And just why, in Gods name, would she cause to speak to his wife, of all people? Perhaps he would have a conversation with his cousin, to make sure they were directly aligned, as his trust for Fotios was currently at the same level as his trust for his dead father.
Perhaps she just needed a reminder that she had another head of house she could come to, if she needed support and backing.
”Regardless of her concern, I will speak to my brother about Euttica to ensure he didn’t have plans for it. But, so long as the King agrees with the assertion that Euttica should belong to Xene, then I have no problem drawing up the necessary paperwork for you to countersign.” Although he would glare and fume the whole time he did. ”If not Euttica, then something of her choosing. Her family need not worry-- she is Mikaelidas and we protect our own.” Perhaps his father had thought differently of what that protection meant. But there was a new generation of Mikaelidas men, and perhaps between Stephanos, Achilleas and himself, they could bring a different strength to the table.
Once his brother forgave him for sleeping with his wife.
Fotios took his exit, and Emilios wasn’t even upset with the slight. The Leventi had shown that he held most of the power when it came to the seat, but perhaps there was more that could be done as Achilleas bore the crown. While he felt shame in his father’s obviously final blow to his youngest son, it was a shame he would share with his brother. In this, they would be on the same page. ”Son of a bitch.” He said under his breath, once he was certain that Fotios was no longer under his roof. Emilios needed air.
Or a drink.
Or a whore.
Why did he have to choose?
Instead, he settled for doing the responsible thing and reading the will presented in front of him, searching for anything else that Fotios may have kept from him in hopes that he wouldn’t read it at all. His father always wanted him to step up and do the right thing.
Perhaps he would start now.
He took far more joy from the jab then he should have. Had he not been feeling so petty, he would have felt a bit of sympathy for the man. There was a sadness that came with the knowledge that daughters were your only fate. At least the family name would live on with his nephew, but he had no qualms with making the dig. There was far more he wished to say, but with Fotios’ hand in his family’s dealings he needed to keep his wits about him.
He needed a drink alone, to swallow down the bitter taste of his father’s final betrayal.
There was no denying that he would betray his brother in the worst way. As the news of Egyptian threat grew, it only meant that the King would be away. And Emilios would find himself acting as Regent within the Kingdom. There would be more for him to worry about then their agreement to continue the affair. Yet the man felt the need to remind him yet again. If he could have safely rolled his eyes, he would have. Instead, he shrugged, ”Well, tis not my fault that his wedding and ascension to the war come on the heels of war.”
He was ready for the man to be off his property (for even if all decisions had to go to him, it was still Mikaelidas property that did not belong to the Leventi), and yet he stopped with more his wished to discuss. Emilios knew he needed to calm down, that even with his rage over the current situation, a level head was needed. He’d never been good at it, but he would need to start sooner rather than later, if Fotios was going to have a hand in all his dealings from now on ”Neither my brother nor myself have given any reason for my cousin to be concerned over her living arrangements. Just because there is indication that Meena will be finding new residence does not mean I plan to do the same for the cousins. And surely, you would not let me either way.”
He took a drink from his own cup, then set it down and stood. ”Xene has always struck me as a girl who wanted more than her lot.” She didn’t need Fotios to play her messenger, and frankly, he’d given little reason for his cousin not to just approach him directly about it. She was not the bastard child of his father. Her title remained princess, but it seemed that she didn’t wish for that either, else she wouldn’t have spoken with the Leventi’s about it.
And just why, in Gods name, would she cause to speak to his wife, of all people? Perhaps he would have a conversation with his cousin, to make sure they were directly aligned, as his trust for Fotios was currently at the same level as his trust for his dead father.
Perhaps she just needed a reminder that she had another head of house she could come to, if she needed support and backing.
”Regardless of her concern, I will speak to my brother about Euttica to ensure he didn’t have plans for it. But, so long as the King agrees with the assertion that Euttica should belong to Xene, then I have no problem drawing up the necessary paperwork for you to countersign.” Although he would glare and fume the whole time he did. ”If not Euttica, then something of her choosing. Her family need not worry-- she is Mikaelidas and we protect our own.” Perhaps his father had thought differently of what that protection meant. But there was a new generation of Mikaelidas men, and perhaps between Stephanos, Achilleas and himself, they could bring a different strength to the table.
Once his brother forgave him for sleeping with his wife.
Fotios took his exit, and Emilios wasn’t even upset with the slight. The Leventi had shown that he held most of the power when it came to the seat, but perhaps there was more that could be done as Achilleas bore the crown. While he felt shame in his father’s obviously final blow to his youngest son, it was a shame he would share with his brother. In this, they would be on the same page. ”Son of a bitch.” He said under his breath, once he was certain that Fotios was no longer under his roof. Emilios needed air.
Or a drink.
Or a whore.
Why did he have to choose?
Instead, he settled for doing the responsible thing and reading the will presented in front of him, searching for anything else that Fotios may have kept from him in hopes that he wouldn’t read it at all. His father always wanted him to step up and do the right thing.