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Urged by his advisors not to make the same mistake his father did, Achilleas of Mikaelidas's coronation has been arranged in time to be completed before he sails for Egypt. Whilst the affair is smaller than should be held for such an event, due to time constraints on the arrangements, heralds and town-criers fill the streets of Vasiliadon to confirm that a larger, more glorious event shall occur after his successful and victorious return from the southern shores. But, that it is not possible for the Taengean people to allow their king to leave the safety of their lands without a formal salutation that he is, truly, their king...
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Urged by his advisors not to make the same mistake his father did, Achilleas of Mikaelidas's coronation has been arranged in time to be completed before he sails for Egypt. Whilst the affair is smaller than should be held for such an event, due to time constraints on the arrangements, heralds and town-criers fill the streets of Vasiliadon to confirm that a larger, more glorious event shall occur after his successful and victorious return from the southern shores. But, that it is not possible for the Taengean people to allow their king to leave the safety of their lands without a formal salutation that he is, truly, their king...
Third Place Takes Gold Event - Taengea
Urged by his advisors not to make the same mistake his father did, Achilleas of Mikaelidas's coronation has been arranged in time to be completed before he sails for Egypt. Whilst the affair is smaller than should be held for such an event, due to time constraints on the arrangements, heralds and town-criers fill the streets of Vasiliadon to confirm that a larger, more glorious event shall occur after his successful and victorious return from the southern shores. But, that it is not possible for the Taengean people to allow their king to leave the safety of their lands without a formal salutation that he is, truly, their king...
It was not a thing Achilleas had ever looked for, the crown. He had been content in supporting those who wore it, in serving Taengea from a spot not so under the glare of scrutiny. Close enough to be of aid, not so close as to have to make any of the decisions that shaped the future of lands and men alike. So it was with mixed feelings that he stared at it now, sitting before him on the polished wood that seemed dull next to its lustre.
His Uncle had worn that crown, and had been a fair and just leader, Achilleas thought, before he had been taken from them in an attack from the shadows. Then it had fallen to his cousin, to Stephanos, who had stepped up to the burden of it beset with grief after losing his father and brother. Stephanos who had not been prepared for it at all,and yet who had made a valiant effort to avenge Taengea of her enemies, The Creed. But then, in muddy circumstances that still bore further scrutiny, accusation of treason had been levelled at him, and Stephanos had fled, leaving the throne unoccupied for those who might seek its power, left the crown behind in his flight to Colchis.
That it had been Achilleas’ own father who had offered to step into such a vacancy had surprised no one, and as he thought upon it, the man’s eldest son reached for the ornate band of metal, lifted it and stared at it consideringly. How long had his father looked on from the sidelines and coveted the thing? How much had he done to ensure it settled, eventually, atop his brow? For what? A mere matter of weeks?
And now it had fallen to Achilleas himself, and today a day that would see it done so officially. Not because he himself wanted the pomp and ceremony of a coronation, not because it even felt like something to celebrate, but because Taengea needed stability, needed the reassurance of leadership as she stood on the brink of war. Three Kings in less than a year, blood and treason had all taken their toll on Vasiliadon and the provinces beyond. Today would be about reassuring the nobility that they came from a place of strength to move forwards, so that they might in turn settle the minds of the common folk. It was a show, that was all.
Achilleas’ musings were interrupted by a knock on the door, and the slightly harried face of his retainer appeared in the doorway. “Your majesty” It was said with almost relief, and the younger man glanced at Petros in question, a thing which the grey haired man rolled his eyes at. “One would appreciate it if perhaps his majesty would not squirrel himself away in places where he cannot be easily found, Achilleas, on a day such as today?”
Aah. It made Achilleas smile to think that he had even managed to confound the man for an instant, and he set the crown down, gave a shrug of his shoulders and with it tried to let go of some of the heavy thoughts that had plagued him.
“Apologies, Petros. I thought the guard outside the door would give me away” he remarked wryly, but he spread his hands as if inviting the man to speak freely. The servant had been his retainer since he was a teen and was almost family.
“A bath has been drawn, your majesty. And then perhaps you might like to break fast with your Queen, who was also wondering where you were” There was only the slightest hint of judgement in the older man’s voice as he looked upon the King, he knew that the man had been under some pressure since the death of his father and he would not add to that. He did however, hover expectantly, until Achilleas sighed and got to his feet.
“Very well. Please do let me know when our roles reversed so you were giving me orders though, Petros” He spoke lightly, no small amount of affection for the man who would be deserving of a retirement soon enough. Achilleas delayed because he would miss him.
Back within his own quarters, the crown was taken away to be buffed and shined in readiness. He would not see it again until the moment it was set upon his head, officially.
The rest of his raiment that had been deemed appropriate for a coronation, albeit one of muted nature, was laid out in his chambers and Achilleas let his gaze flicker over it before he went through with the ritual bathing and anointing that Petros had been so keen to see done. There was no sign of Theodora, so Achilleas could only presume that his Queen was making her own such preparations.
When the servants had finished smoothing oils over his skin, it was just Petros who remained to assist him in donning the layered chiton, blue over gold. He had wondered at this, but decided that as King, he served Taengea, despite the wish to honour his House, his name. That was not forgotten though, for on his left arm curled the Mikaelidas Lion, fierce and noble, and it was visible again on the gold signet ring he wore. On his right bicep, an armband that had been his father’s, the peacock of Taengea, a glinting emerald at its eye. The feathers of the peacock were represented again in the fibulae he wore.
Here was Taengea, here was Mikaelidas.
Never one to make a statement with his attire, Achilleas eyed himself critically in the looking glass and second guessed it all. It was too much or not enough, or altogether wrong, and he really did not care but just wanted to get on with the actual doing of what needed to be done in the face of war.
But as he had been reminded in a rare moment of petulance regarding this day, this was his duty now as much as that, this symbolism. And so with a tight lipped smile of thanks toward Petros, Achilleas went to seek out his Queen, whose opinion on such things was more educated than his own he chanced.
The palace was astir with activity, for whilst not being near the grandeur of the coronation of King Stephanos, there was to be no mistaking this event for anything other than it was. Fortunately, or perhaps, unfortunately, some of the preparations that had been in place for Irakles’ coronation were able to be redirected into that of his son, so the burden of organisation had not been as great as it might have been. But as Achilleas passed by the Grand Gallery in his search for his Queen, he caught sight of the final touches being put upon the room and felt a stir of nerves that had no place in the day. He was the son of a Prince, after all, and though Achilleas had never considered himself destined for the throne, his father had hammered and bent his son into a shape that was everything a leader ought to be. Now it would be put to the test.
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It was not a thing Achilleas had ever looked for, the crown. He had been content in supporting those who wore it, in serving Taengea from a spot not so under the glare of scrutiny. Close enough to be of aid, not so close as to have to make any of the decisions that shaped the future of lands and men alike. So it was with mixed feelings that he stared at it now, sitting before him on the polished wood that seemed dull next to its lustre.
His Uncle had worn that crown, and had been a fair and just leader, Achilleas thought, before he had been taken from them in an attack from the shadows. Then it had fallen to his cousin, to Stephanos, who had stepped up to the burden of it beset with grief after losing his father and brother. Stephanos who had not been prepared for it at all,and yet who had made a valiant effort to avenge Taengea of her enemies, The Creed. But then, in muddy circumstances that still bore further scrutiny, accusation of treason had been levelled at him, and Stephanos had fled, leaving the throne unoccupied for those who might seek its power, left the crown behind in his flight to Colchis.
That it had been Achilleas’ own father who had offered to step into such a vacancy had surprised no one, and as he thought upon it, the man’s eldest son reached for the ornate band of metal, lifted it and stared at it consideringly. How long had his father looked on from the sidelines and coveted the thing? How much had he done to ensure it settled, eventually, atop his brow? For what? A mere matter of weeks?
And now it had fallen to Achilleas himself, and today a day that would see it done so officially. Not because he himself wanted the pomp and ceremony of a coronation, not because it even felt like something to celebrate, but because Taengea needed stability, needed the reassurance of leadership as she stood on the brink of war. Three Kings in less than a year, blood and treason had all taken their toll on Vasiliadon and the provinces beyond. Today would be about reassuring the nobility that they came from a place of strength to move forwards, so that they might in turn settle the minds of the common folk. It was a show, that was all.
Achilleas’ musings were interrupted by a knock on the door, and the slightly harried face of his retainer appeared in the doorway. “Your majesty” It was said with almost relief, and the younger man glanced at Petros in question, a thing which the grey haired man rolled his eyes at. “One would appreciate it if perhaps his majesty would not squirrel himself away in places where he cannot be easily found, Achilleas, on a day such as today?”
Aah. It made Achilleas smile to think that he had even managed to confound the man for an instant, and he set the crown down, gave a shrug of his shoulders and with it tried to let go of some of the heavy thoughts that had plagued him.
“Apologies, Petros. I thought the guard outside the door would give me away” he remarked wryly, but he spread his hands as if inviting the man to speak freely. The servant had been his retainer since he was a teen and was almost family.
“A bath has been drawn, your majesty. And then perhaps you might like to break fast with your Queen, who was also wondering where you were” There was only the slightest hint of judgement in the older man’s voice as he looked upon the King, he knew that the man had been under some pressure since the death of his father and he would not add to that. He did however, hover expectantly, until Achilleas sighed and got to his feet.
“Very well. Please do let me know when our roles reversed so you were giving me orders though, Petros” He spoke lightly, no small amount of affection for the man who would be deserving of a retirement soon enough. Achilleas delayed because he would miss him.
Back within his own quarters, the crown was taken away to be buffed and shined in readiness. He would not see it again until the moment it was set upon his head, officially.
The rest of his raiment that had been deemed appropriate for a coronation, albeit one of muted nature, was laid out in his chambers and Achilleas let his gaze flicker over it before he went through with the ritual bathing and anointing that Petros had been so keen to see done. There was no sign of Theodora, so Achilleas could only presume that his Queen was making her own such preparations.
When the servants had finished smoothing oils over his skin, it was just Petros who remained to assist him in donning the layered chiton, blue over gold. He had wondered at this, but decided that as King, he served Taengea, despite the wish to honour his House, his name. That was not forgotten though, for on his left arm curled the Mikaelidas Lion, fierce and noble, and it was visible again on the gold signet ring he wore. On his right bicep, an armband that had been his father’s, the peacock of Taengea, a glinting emerald at its eye. The feathers of the peacock were represented again in the fibulae he wore.
Here was Taengea, here was Mikaelidas.
Never one to make a statement with his attire, Achilleas eyed himself critically in the looking glass and second guessed it all. It was too much or not enough, or altogether wrong, and he really did not care but just wanted to get on with the actual doing of what needed to be done in the face of war.
But as he had been reminded in a rare moment of petulance regarding this day, this was his duty now as much as that, this symbolism. And so with a tight lipped smile of thanks toward Petros, Achilleas went to seek out his Queen, whose opinion on such things was more educated than his own he chanced.
The palace was astir with activity, for whilst not being near the grandeur of the coronation of King Stephanos, there was to be no mistaking this event for anything other than it was. Fortunately, or perhaps, unfortunately, some of the preparations that had been in place for Irakles’ coronation were able to be redirected into that of his son, so the burden of organisation had not been as great as it might have been. But as Achilleas passed by the Grand Gallery in his search for his Queen, he caught sight of the final touches being put upon the room and felt a stir of nerves that had no place in the day. He was the son of a Prince, after all, and though Achilleas had never considered himself destined for the throne, his father had hammered and bent his son into a shape that was everything a leader ought to be. Now it would be put to the test.
It was not a thing Achilleas had ever looked for, the crown. He had been content in supporting those who wore it, in serving Taengea from a spot not so under the glare of scrutiny. Close enough to be of aid, not so close as to have to make any of the decisions that shaped the future of lands and men alike. So it was with mixed feelings that he stared at it now, sitting before him on the polished wood that seemed dull next to its lustre.
His Uncle had worn that crown, and had been a fair and just leader, Achilleas thought, before he had been taken from them in an attack from the shadows. Then it had fallen to his cousin, to Stephanos, who had stepped up to the burden of it beset with grief after losing his father and brother. Stephanos who had not been prepared for it at all,and yet who had made a valiant effort to avenge Taengea of her enemies, The Creed. But then, in muddy circumstances that still bore further scrutiny, accusation of treason had been levelled at him, and Stephanos had fled, leaving the throne unoccupied for those who might seek its power, left the crown behind in his flight to Colchis.
That it had been Achilleas’ own father who had offered to step into such a vacancy had surprised no one, and as he thought upon it, the man’s eldest son reached for the ornate band of metal, lifted it and stared at it consideringly. How long had his father looked on from the sidelines and coveted the thing? How much had he done to ensure it settled, eventually, atop his brow? For what? A mere matter of weeks?
And now it had fallen to Achilleas himself, and today a day that would see it done so officially. Not because he himself wanted the pomp and ceremony of a coronation, not because it even felt like something to celebrate, but because Taengea needed stability, needed the reassurance of leadership as she stood on the brink of war. Three Kings in less than a year, blood and treason had all taken their toll on Vasiliadon and the provinces beyond. Today would be about reassuring the nobility that they came from a place of strength to move forwards, so that they might in turn settle the minds of the common folk. It was a show, that was all.
Achilleas’ musings were interrupted by a knock on the door, and the slightly harried face of his retainer appeared in the doorway. “Your majesty” It was said with almost relief, and the younger man glanced at Petros in question, a thing which the grey haired man rolled his eyes at. “One would appreciate it if perhaps his majesty would not squirrel himself away in places where he cannot be easily found, Achilleas, on a day such as today?”
Aah. It made Achilleas smile to think that he had even managed to confound the man for an instant, and he set the crown down, gave a shrug of his shoulders and with it tried to let go of some of the heavy thoughts that had plagued him.
“Apologies, Petros. I thought the guard outside the door would give me away” he remarked wryly, but he spread his hands as if inviting the man to speak freely. The servant had been his retainer since he was a teen and was almost family.
“A bath has been drawn, your majesty. And then perhaps you might like to break fast with your Queen, who was also wondering where you were” There was only the slightest hint of judgement in the older man’s voice as he looked upon the King, he knew that the man had been under some pressure since the death of his father and he would not add to that. He did however, hover expectantly, until Achilleas sighed and got to his feet.
“Very well. Please do let me know when our roles reversed so you were giving me orders though, Petros” He spoke lightly, no small amount of affection for the man who would be deserving of a retirement soon enough. Achilleas delayed because he would miss him.
Back within his own quarters, the crown was taken away to be buffed and shined in readiness. He would not see it again until the moment it was set upon his head, officially.
The rest of his raiment that had been deemed appropriate for a coronation, albeit one of muted nature, was laid out in his chambers and Achilleas let his gaze flicker over it before he went through with the ritual bathing and anointing that Petros had been so keen to see done. There was no sign of Theodora, so Achilleas could only presume that his Queen was making her own such preparations.
When the servants had finished smoothing oils over his skin, it was just Petros who remained to assist him in donning the layered chiton, blue over gold. He had wondered at this, but decided that as King, he served Taengea, despite the wish to honour his House, his name. That was not forgotten though, for on his left arm curled the Mikaelidas Lion, fierce and noble, and it was visible again on the gold signet ring he wore. On his right bicep, an armband that had been his father’s, the peacock of Taengea, a glinting emerald at its eye. The feathers of the peacock were represented again in the fibulae he wore.
Here was Taengea, here was Mikaelidas.
Never one to make a statement with his attire, Achilleas eyed himself critically in the looking glass and second guessed it all. It was too much or not enough, or altogether wrong, and he really did not care but just wanted to get on with the actual doing of what needed to be done in the face of war.
But as he had been reminded in a rare moment of petulance regarding this day, this was his duty now as much as that, this symbolism. And so with a tight lipped smile of thanks toward Petros, Achilleas went to seek out his Queen, whose opinion on such things was more educated than his own he chanced.
The palace was astir with activity, for whilst not being near the grandeur of the coronation of King Stephanos, there was to be no mistaking this event for anything other than it was. Fortunately, or perhaps, unfortunately, some of the preparations that had been in place for Irakles’ coronation were able to be redirected into that of his son, so the burden of organisation had not been as great as it might have been. But as Achilleas passed by the Grand Gallery in his search for his Queen, he caught sight of the final touches being put upon the room and felt a stir of nerves that had no place in the day. He was the son of a Prince, after all, and though Achilleas had never considered himself destined for the throne, his father had hammered and bent his son into a shape that was everything a leader ought to be. Now it would be put to the test.
When Achilleas made it to his Queen's private suite within the estate, it was clear that she was still being made ready for the event. Her servants were running in all directions and her slaves were ensuring that every piece of jewellery that had been buffed to a fine shine the night before was still lint and dust free. Once inside the chambers, however, it was clear that Theodora was near enough complete in her raiment and the additional tasks and duties given to her handmaidens were for only the additional and the ornate. Or, in fact, entirely farcical responsibilities concocted by her uncle who had been welcomed to his niece’s rooms once she was decent and was now able to speak to her as she assessed herself in the full-length looking glass.
To compliment her husband, Theodora had been gowned in the exact same hue of blue. The beautiful shade, reminiscent of the sea of a summer evening, was the national colours and the gold that her husband would be elaborately decorated in was a mark of his rank as monarch and ruler. In a gesture that was both complimentary to the navy shade and subservient to her more powerful husband, the Queen had been given fibulae and decoration of silver.
Fotios stood, assessing his niece from where he stood, arms folded by one hand free in order to hold the chalice of wine he had been provided by her lady's maid. His gaze was sharp and critical as he looked over her raiment, fully aware that Eirini would have been a better figure to complete such an assessment but whom had taken over corralling their three daughters and available nieces into elegant attire. If his wife could handle the dressing of five young girls and the nephew on whom the hopes for the Leventi name were pinned, then he could manage just the one.
As it was, he had had to say very little over the raiment - for the royal servants knew exactly how to gown the Queen for such a spectacular event (however small it would turn out to be) and Fotios's presence had become more a requirement for moral support.
Whilst he and his niece had never been considered close and Theodora had made it painfully clear in recent months her distaste for her uncle, all issues that had laid between them had been over his refusal to break the engagement between herself and Achilleas. As time had passed, her affection had grown for her intended and the wedding had come and gone, the reasons for such antagonism had melted a little. Not to mention the fact that her father was busy with the preparations for the festivities and her mother away in Colchis. When one was feeling lost at sea, a buoyancy aid from even the most untrusted of enemies was enough to cling to.
"You won't fall." Fotios assured her for perhaps the fourth time as Theodora had started to chant to herself all her remembrances for the day - when to walk, when to kneel, what to recite, how to support her husband without making it look like he needed support: allow him to take my hand, don't take his... The words were rolling around her head and therefore over her tongue and out between her lips, where Fotios was able to echo the reassurance that she needed to hear, building her calm with each insistence that the event would go smoothly.
Given the last public event that Theodora had been a part of had resulted in her father-in-law's death it was no surprise that she was nervous.
There was a moment of clucking from the lady's maids when a figure appeared in the door and Theodora's voice immediately cut off as the young girl turned to greet her husband. Fotios was pleased by the manner in which her features seemed to light up and her eyes appeared to calm with his proximity. Her skin - pale as cool alabaster - now bloomed in the cheeks and stopped looking so stark against the black of her curls. The silver diadem braided into her hair dipped as she lowered her head before the ruler of Taengea and smiled shyly as she looked down at her clothing and then back up to meet his gaze, clearly seeking some reassurance or compliment of her image. Her lips - carefully constructed with red paint to ensure her visage dramatic for the day's festivities - curled around words of greeting and good morning to the man, despite it being likely that they had shared their bed the previous night.
Fotios found it almost amusing our timid young women could be about admitting their sexual encounters with their husband, early in their marital years.
After allowing the couple a moment to greet and interact, Fotios began his own meet by placing a hand over his heart and bending low and respectfully to Achilleas. Apart from a few notes to inform the King of any political infringements he might need to be aware of and to offer his contrition over the death of his father, Fotios had interacted with the new king very little. But they had witnessed one another and spoken in shallow conversations here and there.
"Your Majesty..." Fotios greeted with sincere reverence for his rank. "Felicitations on this auspicious occasion." His tone was appropriately respectful but also considerate of the fact that such an occasion only came due to the death of the man's father. His features then softened and his tone became a little more informal as his gaze raked the man quickly from head to foot. "I offer my condolences to be so trussed up. I think we are alike in our distaste for fine garb." He offered, with a light sense of humour as his fingers brushed the blue chiton that he himself wore.
The chiton that had been selected for him for the event was of the same hue as was loyal to Taengea but several shades darker and more sombre. He wore the colour with a tone of regal reverence and the garment was only turned more festive by the white himation he wore across his shoulders, silver scrollwork along its edges and a silver belt cinching it in to his waist. One of his arms was mostly covered by snowy white silk, but the other wore a finely worked archer's bracer in black tan. His silver ring of house was upon his index finger of that hand and another embossed with a midnight blue gem graced his second. His hair had been left loose and brushed back from his face. Altogether, he looked very appropriate for the event, without drawing any attention his way.
Fotios sipped from his chalice as he waited for the King's response, careful to ensure a state of patience in his demeanour.
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When Achilleas made it to his Queen's private suite within the estate, it was clear that she was still being made ready for the event. Her servants were running in all directions and her slaves were ensuring that every piece of jewellery that had been buffed to a fine shine the night before was still lint and dust free. Once inside the chambers, however, it was clear that Theodora was near enough complete in her raiment and the additional tasks and duties given to her handmaidens were for only the additional and the ornate. Or, in fact, entirely farcical responsibilities concocted by her uncle who had been welcomed to his niece’s rooms once she was decent and was now able to speak to her as she assessed herself in the full-length looking glass.
To compliment her husband, Theodora had been gowned in the exact same hue of blue. The beautiful shade, reminiscent of the sea of a summer evening, was the national colours and the gold that her husband would be elaborately decorated in was a mark of his rank as monarch and ruler. In a gesture that was both complimentary to the navy shade and subservient to her more powerful husband, the Queen had been given fibulae and decoration of silver.
Fotios stood, assessing his niece from where he stood, arms folded by one hand free in order to hold the chalice of wine he had been provided by her lady's maid. His gaze was sharp and critical as he looked over her raiment, fully aware that Eirini would have been a better figure to complete such an assessment but whom had taken over corralling their three daughters and available nieces into elegant attire. If his wife could handle the dressing of five young girls and the nephew on whom the hopes for the Leventi name were pinned, then he could manage just the one.
As it was, he had had to say very little over the raiment - for the royal servants knew exactly how to gown the Queen for such a spectacular event (however small it would turn out to be) and Fotios's presence had become more a requirement for moral support.
Whilst he and his niece had never been considered close and Theodora had made it painfully clear in recent months her distaste for her uncle, all issues that had laid between them had been over his refusal to break the engagement between herself and Achilleas. As time had passed, her affection had grown for her intended and the wedding had come and gone, the reasons for such antagonism had melted a little. Not to mention the fact that her father was busy with the preparations for the festivities and her mother away in Colchis. When one was feeling lost at sea, a buoyancy aid from even the most untrusted of enemies was enough to cling to.
"You won't fall." Fotios assured her for perhaps the fourth time as Theodora had started to chant to herself all her remembrances for the day - when to walk, when to kneel, what to recite, how to support her husband without making it look like he needed support: allow him to take my hand, don't take his... The words were rolling around her head and therefore over her tongue and out between her lips, where Fotios was able to echo the reassurance that she needed to hear, building her calm with each insistence that the event would go smoothly.
Given the last public event that Theodora had been a part of had resulted in her father-in-law's death it was no surprise that she was nervous.
There was a moment of clucking from the lady's maids when a figure appeared in the door and Theodora's voice immediately cut off as the young girl turned to greet her husband. Fotios was pleased by the manner in which her features seemed to light up and her eyes appeared to calm with his proximity. Her skin - pale as cool alabaster - now bloomed in the cheeks and stopped looking so stark against the black of her curls. The silver diadem braided into her hair dipped as she lowered her head before the ruler of Taengea and smiled shyly as she looked down at her clothing and then back up to meet his gaze, clearly seeking some reassurance or compliment of her image. Her lips - carefully constructed with red paint to ensure her visage dramatic for the day's festivities - curled around words of greeting and good morning to the man, despite it being likely that they had shared their bed the previous night.
Fotios found it almost amusing our timid young women could be about admitting their sexual encounters with their husband, early in their marital years.
After allowing the couple a moment to greet and interact, Fotios began his own meet by placing a hand over his heart and bending low and respectfully to Achilleas. Apart from a few notes to inform the King of any political infringements he might need to be aware of and to offer his contrition over the death of his father, Fotios had interacted with the new king very little. But they had witnessed one another and spoken in shallow conversations here and there.
"Your Majesty..." Fotios greeted with sincere reverence for his rank. "Felicitations on this auspicious occasion." His tone was appropriately respectful but also considerate of the fact that such an occasion only came due to the death of the man's father. His features then softened and his tone became a little more informal as his gaze raked the man quickly from head to foot. "I offer my condolences to be so trussed up. I think we are alike in our distaste for fine garb." He offered, with a light sense of humour as his fingers brushed the blue chiton that he himself wore.
The chiton that had been selected for him for the event was of the same hue as was loyal to Taengea but several shades darker and more sombre. He wore the colour with a tone of regal reverence and the garment was only turned more festive by the white himation he wore across his shoulders, silver scrollwork along its edges and a silver belt cinching it in to his waist. One of his arms was mostly covered by snowy white silk, but the other wore a finely worked archer's bracer in black tan. His silver ring of house was upon his index finger of that hand and another embossed with a midnight blue gem graced his second. His hair had been left loose and brushed back from his face. Altogether, he looked very appropriate for the event, without drawing any attention his way.
Fotios sipped from his chalice as he waited for the King's response, careful to ensure a state of patience in his demeanour.
When Achilleas made it to his Queen's private suite within the estate, it was clear that she was still being made ready for the event. Her servants were running in all directions and her slaves were ensuring that every piece of jewellery that had been buffed to a fine shine the night before was still lint and dust free. Once inside the chambers, however, it was clear that Theodora was near enough complete in her raiment and the additional tasks and duties given to her handmaidens were for only the additional and the ornate. Or, in fact, entirely farcical responsibilities concocted by her uncle who had been welcomed to his niece’s rooms once she was decent and was now able to speak to her as she assessed herself in the full-length looking glass.
To compliment her husband, Theodora had been gowned in the exact same hue of blue. The beautiful shade, reminiscent of the sea of a summer evening, was the national colours and the gold that her husband would be elaborately decorated in was a mark of his rank as monarch and ruler. In a gesture that was both complimentary to the navy shade and subservient to her more powerful husband, the Queen had been given fibulae and decoration of silver.
Fotios stood, assessing his niece from where he stood, arms folded by one hand free in order to hold the chalice of wine he had been provided by her lady's maid. His gaze was sharp and critical as he looked over her raiment, fully aware that Eirini would have been a better figure to complete such an assessment but whom had taken over corralling their three daughters and available nieces into elegant attire. If his wife could handle the dressing of five young girls and the nephew on whom the hopes for the Leventi name were pinned, then he could manage just the one.
As it was, he had had to say very little over the raiment - for the royal servants knew exactly how to gown the Queen for such a spectacular event (however small it would turn out to be) and Fotios's presence had become more a requirement for moral support.
Whilst he and his niece had never been considered close and Theodora had made it painfully clear in recent months her distaste for her uncle, all issues that had laid between them had been over his refusal to break the engagement between herself and Achilleas. As time had passed, her affection had grown for her intended and the wedding had come and gone, the reasons for such antagonism had melted a little. Not to mention the fact that her father was busy with the preparations for the festivities and her mother away in Colchis. When one was feeling lost at sea, a buoyancy aid from even the most untrusted of enemies was enough to cling to.
"You won't fall." Fotios assured her for perhaps the fourth time as Theodora had started to chant to herself all her remembrances for the day - when to walk, when to kneel, what to recite, how to support her husband without making it look like he needed support: allow him to take my hand, don't take his... The words were rolling around her head and therefore over her tongue and out between her lips, where Fotios was able to echo the reassurance that she needed to hear, building her calm with each insistence that the event would go smoothly.
Given the last public event that Theodora had been a part of had resulted in her father-in-law's death it was no surprise that she was nervous.
There was a moment of clucking from the lady's maids when a figure appeared in the door and Theodora's voice immediately cut off as the young girl turned to greet her husband. Fotios was pleased by the manner in which her features seemed to light up and her eyes appeared to calm with his proximity. Her skin - pale as cool alabaster - now bloomed in the cheeks and stopped looking so stark against the black of her curls. The silver diadem braided into her hair dipped as she lowered her head before the ruler of Taengea and smiled shyly as she looked down at her clothing and then back up to meet his gaze, clearly seeking some reassurance or compliment of her image. Her lips - carefully constructed with red paint to ensure her visage dramatic for the day's festivities - curled around words of greeting and good morning to the man, despite it being likely that they had shared their bed the previous night.
Fotios found it almost amusing our timid young women could be about admitting their sexual encounters with their husband, early in their marital years.
After allowing the couple a moment to greet and interact, Fotios began his own meet by placing a hand over his heart and bending low and respectfully to Achilleas. Apart from a few notes to inform the King of any political infringements he might need to be aware of and to offer his contrition over the death of his father, Fotios had interacted with the new king very little. But they had witnessed one another and spoken in shallow conversations here and there.
"Your Majesty..." Fotios greeted with sincere reverence for his rank. "Felicitations on this auspicious occasion." His tone was appropriately respectful but also considerate of the fact that such an occasion only came due to the death of the man's father. His features then softened and his tone became a little more informal as his gaze raked the man quickly from head to foot. "I offer my condolences to be so trussed up. I think we are alike in our distaste for fine garb." He offered, with a light sense of humour as his fingers brushed the blue chiton that he himself wore.
The chiton that had been selected for him for the event was of the same hue as was loyal to Taengea but several shades darker and more sombre. He wore the colour with a tone of regal reverence and the garment was only turned more festive by the white himation he wore across his shoulders, silver scrollwork along its edges and a silver belt cinching it in to his waist. One of his arms was mostly covered by snowy white silk, but the other wore a finely worked archer's bracer in black tan. His silver ring of house was upon his index finger of that hand and another embossed with a midnight blue gem graced his second. His hair had been left loose and brushed back from his face. Altogether, he looked very appropriate for the event, without drawing any attention his way.
Fotios sipped from his chalice as he waited for the King's response, careful to ensure a state of patience in his demeanour.
Walking into those rooms that Theodora had claimed as her own, Achilleas was, as he always found himself, momentarily stunned by her beauty. He thought perhaps he would grow used to it, like the glare of the morning sun became less daunting the longer one's eyes were open, but it was not yet so. Moreso now though, there was the comfort he found in her presence, less tentative than it had been prior to their marriage where he danced around the edges of expectation and propriety always.
She had surprised him since the wedding, assuming the role of Queen with some quiet efficiency he had not seen in her before, and making few demands of him, which he was grateful for. He was not the most demonstrative of men and was still trying to find his way around the complexities of being King, and so there were times he wondered if she needed more from him, if he were being all that he should. But even as they were forced to find their own balance amongst such an intense situation, Achilleas could be glad that he had her by his side.
He returned the smile, paying little heed to the servants who hovered around, rather basking a moment in the sight of her. Whatever placed that uncertainty upon her face he wanted to crush and had opened his mouth to speak when he caught sight of the man at the back of the room and paused. Achilleas glanced back to Theodora, his surprise mostly hidden but for the slight question in his gaze.
“You will put the rest of the ladies of court to shame I fear, Theodora, you shine so bright.” The smile had slid quickly back into place, and Achilleas moved forward to drop a kiss on her brow, a silent apology for having stolen away before she woke that morning. His hand took a hold of one of hers for a moment, squeezing briefly before he turned to acknowledge her Uncle.
The man’s manners were as expected, flawless, and the new King could find little to be displeased about in his greeting, and yet he was displeased. Lord Fotios had been distantly polite since the wedding, could have been seen to have been giving some respectful space even, but Achilleas could not help but think of the news he had received from his brother only days before.
This man...his Uncle in Law, the best friend of his father, now held in his possession the legal powers of House Mikaelidas, and that was never a thing that Achilleas was going to be happy about. It created an imbalance for one, and on a more personal, galling level, left little to the imagination about the conversations Lord Fotios must have shared with his father. Conversations about how Irakles considered his sons incompetent,unworthy. Enough to have made such stipulations. The taste of his father’s disappointment was just as bitter as it had ever been, and hard not to choke upon as Achilleas looked upon the older man.
“My thanks, Lord Fotios.”
He was wary of the other, and yet could not forget that he had been his late father’s closest friend. Could he be blamed for having enacted the wishes of the man? It was more difficult to be angry when Lord Fotios stood before him, and nor was it the day for such a thing to be addressed. If indeed, Achilleas could find a way to address it. And so the new King summoned a pressed lip smile for the other man, followed Fotios’ gaze to his attire and breathed a huff of a laugh that swept away any sign of tension. It was Theodora that Achilleas looked to as he remembered one of the reason’s he had sought her out, but he would not seek her approval now, with her Uncle there. Instead, he glanced back at Fotios with a half shrug.
“I believe it is a thing I had better get used to, so I have resigned myself to it now. What is important is that we give Taengea confidence. And if part of that means I must strut about like one of her own peacocks for a day then I will do it”
The fact that the coronation ceremony was set to be that much simpler than that of the last young King was only a boon to Achilleas, whose skills lay more in the practical than they did the pantomime of it all. Theodora was not the only one who fretted over the etiquette of the day ahead, though as with everything he set himself at, Achilleas had studied it meticulously. Now it was just a case of getting it done.
“I didn’t know if you had eaten?” The comment was directed toward the Queen, though Achilleas wondered if she would wish to break fast now she was in all her finery. And then he cast his gaze back to the Leventi Head of House. “You will join us, Lord Fotios?”
It was a simple affair, a moment of quiet before the day truly began, and though the King had little in the way of an appetite, he made an effort to eat some of the food that was laid out for them. He would have preferred to be able to confer with Theodora privately, but instead made smalltalk with her Uncle who was, he realised, there as some support for his wife and should therefore be applauded for that at least. The wine was refused, because Achilleas wanted his head clear and it would be a long day. They did not have long before the Palati would open its doors to Vasiliadon’s courtiers, and the Lords and Ladies who had made their way from the provinces to witness the crowning of the latest in a long line of Kings.
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Walking into those rooms that Theodora had claimed as her own, Achilleas was, as he always found himself, momentarily stunned by her beauty. He thought perhaps he would grow used to it, like the glare of the morning sun became less daunting the longer one's eyes were open, but it was not yet so. Moreso now though, there was the comfort he found in her presence, less tentative than it had been prior to their marriage where he danced around the edges of expectation and propriety always.
She had surprised him since the wedding, assuming the role of Queen with some quiet efficiency he had not seen in her before, and making few demands of him, which he was grateful for. He was not the most demonstrative of men and was still trying to find his way around the complexities of being King, and so there were times he wondered if she needed more from him, if he were being all that he should. But even as they were forced to find their own balance amongst such an intense situation, Achilleas could be glad that he had her by his side.
He returned the smile, paying little heed to the servants who hovered around, rather basking a moment in the sight of her. Whatever placed that uncertainty upon her face he wanted to crush and had opened his mouth to speak when he caught sight of the man at the back of the room and paused. Achilleas glanced back to Theodora, his surprise mostly hidden but for the slight question in his gaze.
“You will put the rest of the ladies of court to shame I fear, Theodora, you shine so bright.” The smile had slid quickly back into place, and Achilleas moved forward to drop a kiss on her brow, a silent apology for having stolen away before she woke that morning. His hand took a hold of one of hers for a moment, squeezing briefly before he turned to acknowledge her Uncle.
The man’s manners were as expected, flawless, and the new King could find little to be displeased about in his greeting, and yet he was displeased. Lord Fotios had been distantly polite since the wedding, could have been seen to have been giving some respectful space even, but Achilleas could not help but think of the news he had received from his brother only days before.
This man...his Uncle in Law, the best friend of his father, now held in his possession the legal powers of House Mikaelidas, and that was never a thing that Achilleas was going to be happy about. It created an imbalance for one, and on a more personal, galling level, left little to the imagination about the conversations Lord Fotios must have shared with his father. Conversations about how Irakles considered his sons incompetent,unworthy. Enough to have made such stipulations. The taste of his father’s disappointment was just as bitter as it had ever been, and hard not to choke upon as Achilleas looked upon the older man.
“My thanks, Lord Fotios.”
He was wary of the other, and yet could not forget that he had been his late father’s closest friend. Could he be blamed for having enacted the wishes of the man? It was more difficult to be angry when Lord Fotios stood before him, and nor was it the day for such a thing to be addressed. If indeed, Achilleas could find a way to address it. And so the new King summoned a pressed lip smile for the other man, followed Fotios’ gaze to his attire and breathed a huff of a laugh that swept away any sign of tension. It was Theodora that Achilleas looked to as he remembered one of the reason’s he had sought her out, but he would not seek her approval now, with her Uncle there. Instead, he glanced back at Fotios with a half shrug.
“I believe it is a thing I had better get used to, so I have resigned myself to it now. What is important is that we give Taengea confidence. And if part of that means I must strut about like one of her own peacocks for a day then I will do it”
The fact that the coronation ceremony was set to be that much simpler than that of the last young King was only a boon to Achilleas, whose skills lay more in the practical than they did the pantomime of it all. Theodora was not the only one who fretted over the etiquette of the day ahead, though as with everything he set himself at, Achilleas had studied it meticulously. Now it was just a case of getting it done.
“I didn’t know if you had eaten?” The comment was directed toward the Queen, though Achilleas wondered if she would wish to break fast now she was in all her finery. And then he cast his gaze back to the Leventi Head of House. “You will join us, Lord Fotios?”
It was a simple affair, a moment of quiet before the day truly began, and though the King had little in the way of an appetite, he made an effort to eat some of the food that was laid out for them. He would have preferred to be able to confer with Theodora privately, but instead made smalltalk with her Uncle who was, he realised, there as some support for his wife and should therefore be applauded for that at least. The wine was refused, because Achilleas wanted his head clear and it would be a long day. They did not have long before the Palati would open its doors to Vasiliadon’s courtiers, and the Lords and Ladies who had made their way from the provinces to witness the crowning of the latest in a long line of Kings.
Walking into those rooms that Theodora had claimed as her own, Achilleas was, as he always found himself, momentarily stunned by her beauty. He thought perhaps he would grow used to it, like the glare of the morning sun became less daunting the longer one's eyes were open, but it was not yet so. Moreso now though, there was the comfort he found in her presence, less tentative than it had been prior to their marriage where he danced around the edges of expectation and propriety always.
She had surprised him since the wedding, assuming the role of Queen with some quiet efficiency he had not seen in her before, and making few demands of him, which he was grateful for. He was not the most demonstrative of men and was still trying to find his way around the complexities of being King, and so there were times he wondered if she needed more from him, if he were being all that he should. But even as they were forced to find their own balance amongst such an intense situation, Achilleas could be glad that he had her by his side.
He returned the smile, paying little heed to the servants who hovered around, rather basking a moment in the sight of her. Whatever placed that uncertainty upon her face he wanted to crush and had opened his mouth to speak when he caught sight of the man at the back of the room and paused. Achilleas glanced back to Theodora, his surprise mostly hidden but for the slight question in his gaze.
“You will put the rest of the ladies of court to shame I fear, Theodora, you shine so bright.” The smile had slid quickly back into place, and Achilleas moved forward to drop a kiss on her brow, a silent apology for having stolen away before she woke that morning. His hand took a hold of one of hers for a moment, squeezing briefly before he turned to acknowledge her Uncle.
The man’s manners were as expected, flawless, and the new King could find little to be displeased about in his greeting, and yet he was displeased. Lord Fotios had been distantly polite since the wedding, could have been seen to have been giving some respectful space even, but Achilleas could not help but think of the news he had received from his brother only days before.
This man...his Uncle in Law, the best friend of his father, now held in his possession the legal powers of House Mikaelidas, and that was never a thing that Achilleas was going to be happy about. It created an imbalance for one, and on a more personal, galling level, left little to the imagination about the conversations Lord Fotios must have shared with his father. Conversations about how Irakles considered his sons incompetent,unworthy. Enough to have made such stipulations. The taste of his father’s disappointment was just as bitter as it had ever been, and hard not to choke upon as Achilleas looked upon the older man.
“My thanks, Lord Fotios.”
He was wary of the other, and yet could not forget that he had been his late father’s closest friend. Could he be blamed for having enacted the wishes of the man? It was more difficult to be angry when Lord Fotios stood before him, and nor was it the day for such a thing to be addressed. If indeed, Achilleas could find a way to address it. And so the new King summoned a pressed lip smile for the other man, followed Fotios’ gaze to his attire and breathed a huff of a laugh that swept away any sign of tension. It was Theodora that Achilleas looked to as he remembered one of the reason’s he had sought her out, but he would not seek her approval now, with her Uncle there. Instead, he glanced back at Fotios with a half shrug.
“I believe it is a thing I had better get used to, so I have resigned myself to it now. What is important is that we give Taengea confidence. And if part of that means I must strut about like one of her own peacocks for a day then I will do it”
The fact that the coronation ceremony was set to be that much simpler than that of the last young King was only a boon to Achilleas, whose skills lay more in the practical than they did the pantomime of it all. Theodora was not the only one who fretted over the etiquette of the day ahead, though as with everything he set himself at, Achilleas had studied it meticulously. Now it was just a case of getting it done.
“I didn’t know if you had eaten?” The comment was directed toward the Queen, though Achilleas wondered if she would wish to break fast now she was in all her finery. And then he cast his gaze back to the Leventi Head of House. “You will join us, Lord Fotios?”
It was a simple affair, a moment of quiet before the day truly began, and though the King had little in the way of an appetite, he made an effort to eat some of the food that was laid out for them. He would have preferred to be able to confer with Theodora privately, but instead made smalltalk with her Uncle who was, he realised, there as some support for his wife and should therefore be applauded for that at least. The wine was refused, because Achilleas wanted his head clear and it would be a long day. They did not have long before the Palati would open its doors to Vasiliadon’s courtiers, and the Lords and Ladies who had made their way from the provinces to witness the crowning of the latest in a long line of Kings.
When Achilleas jested that a single day of awkward display for him would create a secure and confident state of calm for his kingdom, Fotios simply offered an approving smile and a nod that was distanced in its assurance. He wanted his expression to read as one of agreement but also neither patronisation nor simpering.
"Just so, Your Majesty..." He offered, his words again walking the fine line between approval and a respectful acceptance that the man before him was his king.
Keeping his eyes politely averted from the couple as they interacted in a moment of intimacy - possibly the only one they would get on a day as celebratory and bustling as today was likely to become - Fotios caught only the simplest of moments between them in the reflections of their interaction in the looking glass that Theodora had been scrutinising her appearance within only moments before. In its smooth surface, he noted the way in which Achilleas took his wife's hand and how the squeezing of her fingers was immediately reciprocated. The easy look of assurance and safety in Theodora's eyes was enough to tell Fotios that her new brother in law had clearly decided to stay true to his plans of remaining detached until such a time where Achilleas was taken away by war.
A wise move for now, given that so far Fotios had witnessed Achilleas to be a more intellectual king than he had supposed the boy to be. Perhaps he had gotten lost in the mistrusting and derogatory opinion of their father, but Fotios had always thought to consider Achilleas to be brave, honourable and the perfect image of a king, and yet not the most politically savvy nor mentally acute. Unless he was parroting the words of another, his comments regarding the sacrifice of looking the part and playing to the image of a secure nation were reminiscent of strategical acumen that he had no previously associated with the boy.
Perhaps using him through Theodora would be harder than Fotios had previously expected...?
Only, it was then that Achilleas looked upon his bride again as if she were the very sun dawning at the horizon and his fears disappeared. No. He had been accurate in his assessment of Achilleas' feelings towards his niece regardless of anything else. He would do much to see her happy, Fotios was sure...
Which meant that as soon as Emilios gave the Leventi house a bargaining chip, held like a shadow above Theodora's head, it would be time to start making some real plans...
War, it would seem, could not come fast enough...
When the new king invited Fotios to join he and his Queen for the breaking of their fast, Fotios offered a formal bow, the lowering of his head and a polite acceptance of the suggestion with simply the words - "If the King so wishes it, I would be delighted." The fear of the day to come seemed to still hold upon his niece for she appeared happy at his presence and Fotios spent the next hour or so making small talk regarding the preparations for the Taengean forces now encamped and steadily embarking ready to set sail to the south. The conversation didn't appear to phase Theodora but Fotios put this down more to her innocence of war than to her lack of compassion for her husband. He suspected it very likely that, in her head, her husband was going away to handle a minor task and would be back in due course. Her mind simply wasn't entertaining the difficulties and dangers that could present to even a King on the battlefield.
"What is it you will require of your nobility in your absence, Your Majesty?" Fotios asked, as they settled back in their chairs, a sparse but elegantly prepared meal of dried meats and fresh fruit quickly consumed to the tune of meaningless chatter. "Do you have an estimation for how long you'll be gone to the south?"
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When Achilleas jested that a single day of awkward display for him would create a secure and confident state of calm for his kingdom, Fotios simply offered an approving smile and a nod that was distanced in its assurance. He wanted his expression to read as one of agreement but also neither patronisation nor simpering.
"Just so, Your Majesty..." He offered, his words again walking the fine line between approval and a respectful acceptance that the man before him was his king.
Keeping his eyes politely averted from the couple as they interacted in a moment of intimacy - possibly the only one they would get on a day as celebratory and bustling as today was likely to become - Fotios caught only the simplest of moments between them in the reflections of their interaction in the looking glass that Theodora had been scrutinising her appearance within only moments before. In its smooth surface, he noted the way in which Achilleas took his wife's hand and how the squeezing of her fingers was immediately reciprocated. The easy look of assurance and safety in Theodora's eyes was enough to tell Fotios that her new brother in law had clearly decided to stay true to his plans of remaining detached until such a time where Achilleas was taken away by war.
A wise move for now, given that so far Fotios had witnessed Achilleas to be a more intellectual king than he had supposed the boy to be. Perhaps he had gotten lost in the mistrusting and derogatory opinion of their father, but Fotios had always thought to consider Achilleas to be brave, honourable and the perfect image of a king, and yet not the most politically savvy nor mentally acute. Unless he was parroting the words of another, his comments regarding the sacrifice of looking the part and playing to the image of a secure nation were reminiscent of strategical acumen that he had no previously associated with the boy.
Perhaps using him through Theodora would be harder than Fotios had previously expected...?
Only, it was then that Achilleas looked upon his bride again as if she were the very sun dawning at the horizon and his fears disappeared. No. He had been accurate in his assessment of Achilleas' feelings towards his niece regardless of anything else. He would do much to see her happy, Fotios was sure...
Which meant that as soon as Emilios gave the Leventi house a bargaining chip, held like a shadow above Theodora's head, it would be time to start making some real plans...
War, it would seem, could not come fast enough...
When the new king invited Fotios to join he and his Queen for the breaking of their fast, Fotios offered a formal bow, the lowering of his head and a polite acceptance of the suggestion with simply the words - "If the King so wishes it, I would be delighted." The fear of the day to come seemed to still hold upon his niece for she appeared happy at his presence and Fotios spent the next hour or so making small talk regarding the preparations for the Taengean forces now encamped and steadily embarking ready to set sail to the south. The conversation didn't appear to phase Theodora but Fotios put this down more to her innocence of war than to her lack of compassion for her husband. He suspected it very likely that, in her head, her husband was going away to handle a minor task and would be back in due course. Her mind simply wasn't entertaining the difficulties and dangers that could present to even a King on the battlefield.
"What is it you will require of your nobility in your absence, Your Majesty?" Fotios asked, as they settled back in their chairs, a sparse but elegantly prepared meal of dried meats and fresh fruit quickly consumed to the tune of meaningless chatter. "Do you have an estimation for how long you'll be gone to the south?"
When Achilleas jested that a single day of awkward display for him would create a secure and confident state of calm for his kingdom, Fotios simply offered an approving smile and a nod that was distanced in its assurance. He wanted his expression to read as one of agreement but also neither patronisation nor simpering.
"Just so, Your Majesty..." He offered, his words again walking the fine line between approval and a respectful acceptance that the man before him was his king.
Keeping his eyes politely averted from the couple as they interacted in a moment of intimacy - possibly the only one they would get on a day as celebratory and bustling as today was likely to become - Fotios caught only the simplest of moments between them in the reflections of their interaction in the looking glass that Theodora had been scrutinising her appearance within only moments before. In its smooth surface, he noted the way in which Achilleas took his wife's hand and how the squeezing of her fingers was immediately reciprocated. The easy look of assurance and safety in Theodora's eyes was enough to tell Fotios that her new brother in law had clearly decided to stay true to his plans of remaining detached until such a time where Achilleas was taken away by war.
A wise move for now, given that so far Fotios had witnessed Achilleas to be a more intellectual king than he had supposed the boy to be. Perhaps he had gotten lost in the mistrusting and derogatory opinion of their father, but Fotios had always thought to consider Achilleas to be brave, honourable and the perfect image of a king, and yet not the most politically savvy nor mentally acute. Unless he was parroting the words of another, his comments regarding the sacrifice of looking the part and playing to the image of a secure nation were reminiscent of strategical acumen that he had no previously associated with the boy.
Perhaps using him through Theodora would be harder than Fotios had previously expected...?
Only, it was then that Achilleas looked upon his bride again as if she were the very sun dawning at the horizon and his fears disappeared. No. He had been accurate in his assessment of Achilleas' feelings towards his niece regardless of anything else. He would do much to see her happy, Fotios was sure...
Which meant that as soon as Emilios gave the Leventi house a bargaining chip, held like a shadow above Theodora's head, it would be time to start making some real plans...
War, it would seem, could not come fast enough...
When the new king invited Fotios to join he and his Queen for the breaking of their fast, Fotios offered a formal bow, the lowering of his head and a polite acceptance of the suggestion with simply the words - "If the King so wishes it, I would be delighted." The fear of the day to come seemed to still hold upon his niece for she appeared happy at his presence and Fotios spent the next hour or so making small talk regarding the preparations for the Taengean forces now encamped and steadily embarking ready to set sail to the south. The conversation didn't appear to phase Theodora but Fotios put this down more to her innocence of war than to her lack of compassion for her husband. He suspected it very likely that, in her head, her husband was going away to handle a minor task and would be back in due course. Her mind simply wasn't entertaining the difficulties and dangers that could present to even a King on the battlefield.
"What is it you will require of your nobility in your absence, Your Majesty?" Fotios asked, as they settled back in their chairs, a sparse but elegantly prepared meal of dried meats and fresh fruit quickly consumed to the tune of meaningless chatter. "Do you have an estimation for how long you'll be gone to the south?"
There was something of an ease that had settled across Xene's shoulders in the days leading from the death of her Uncle. King Irakles had fallen during his own son's wedding, and while the princess had held only the slightest bit of affection for the man, she did not feel the loss as profoundly now as she had in the moment. In fact, upon finding silent and comfort on her own, a moment to think and a few sips of water left her to realize that she felt nothing at all for her Uncle. She had spent years vying for some sort of acceptance from the man, but he had never truly looked upon her in any way that would have mattered.
To him, she had always been a child. A girl who did not know anything of what she spoke despite her own pull with both the court and the senate. It infuriated her that, like her cousins, there had never once been a moment where he had considered her important for anything other than marrying a worthwhile suitor. To bring luck and fortune to an already fortuitous family.
At the end of it all, after days of consideration and silent grief over seeing someone die more than the actual loss of the person himself... Xene had decided to, very plainly, tell her Uncle that he could fuck himself straight across the River Styx. If she had known he was just going to drop dead and leave one of his sons to rule a Kingdom he usurped from her brother, she might have pushed harder to bring her brother justice. Sooner. But she hadn't. And Stephanos was now well and truly stuck in Colchis.
These were never thoughts that Xene would express to either Achilleas or Emilios, but she couldn't help but think them as the bitter taste of the last few months settled sharply on her tongue. Now, knowing that her cousin really hadn't had a single choice in the matter, Xene had made it her goal to support the new King Achilleas in every way that she could. They had met a few times since the death of his father, and Xene had spent considerable time trying to help build Achilleas' confidence and ease his mind about taking the throne. It wasn't easy, not by any means, but Xene hadn't gotten where she had in her position as princess without building relationships and connections with those around her.
Now, at the moment where her branch of the Mikaelidas bloodline would likely fizzle out and disappear into annals of history, she simply found herself needing to carve her own path. Xene struggled silently with the fact that she had no true power anymore, but she could hold sway and confidence with King Achilleas, at the very least. Hopefully, their efforts to shed Stephanos of his charges would continue, even while Achilleas took on the mantle of King. It would feel like such a stark betrayal otherwise, and she was entirely sure that Achilleas was aware of this. Now that King Irakles was out of the way, maybe they could make true headway.
Settled silently in front of the archway that connected to the balcony of her quarters within the Palati, which she had been so generously allowed to keep thus far, Xene supped on a cup of water as the sun freshly trailed over the horizon. Today was the day that King Achilleas officially made a show of his ascension to the throne. From a Lord to a Prince to a King within only a matter of weeks, she understood that he would likely have a great number of nerves or reservations. He had up to this point and the princess was very sure that those feelings would not just disappear as soon as the crown was officially and publically his.
But her thoughts of her cousin were quickly interrupted. A sharp knock upon her door had the sleepy princess turning on graceful feet. She was still dressed in her dressing chiton, a gown she slept in more often than not, except when the Taengean summers grew stiflingly hot. Reaching for a thin shawl that she could throw over her shoulders, Xene cleared her throat, letting the hand holding her cup settle at her side, held with her palm facing down. "Enter," Xene said calmly, trying not to think about how much of a mess her hair might be that morning.
To her surprise, it was her mother's retainer that entered, worry etching the already deeply wrinkled lines of her face. The older woman tried to bow but Xene waved her off, not finding it entirely necessary at the moment. "Your highness," the woman started, looking up with dark eyes. "It’s your mother. She will not open the door of her rooms. She will not let anyone inside," the old woman crooned.
If there was something that Xene did not need to endure this morning, it was her mother's temper. Much like Stephanos, her mother's temper could rival even the most spiteful of gods. It was a wonder that Elise and Stephanos had gotten along at all. Xene, however, was not keen on letting her mother continue to throw a tantrum, not when her presence today was paramount to showing support for her nephew. It would show favorably on the ousted branch of the family to stand together to support Achilleas, and gods be willing, Xene would make sure she was there.
"Of course," Xene said lightly, breathing very calmly through her nose. Reaching over, she placed her cup onto the table by the archway and started moving to the door. "I'll take care of it. Thank you, Rhea," Xene said softly, stepping out the door and leaving the old woman behind. She could vaguely hear the woman puffing behind her in an effort to keep up with Xene's purposeful strides in the direction of her mother's chambers. She took the shortest way possible, not willing to give her mother any extra time to formulate any sort of plan of escape. Not that she was a prisoner, but her mother should have understood the importance of this day. If King Achilleas were to be offended by Lady Elise's behavior, they could all be ousted from their lifelong home.
Rounding the corner toward her mother's rooms, Xene tried not to roll her eyes at the number of slaves and guards who were hovering by the door. The princess also couldn't help but feel some bit of resignation. Though she was irritated with her mother's behavior, she knew such actions taken by her mother to be entirely out of character. That was worrying on its own, though she had little time to really think about it.
"Excuse me," Xene said calmly as she approached, her bare feet slapping sharply against the marble. "Stand at the corner, keep anyone from bearing witness to my mother's tantrum," she said a little scathingly to the guards. They all scattered and the servants backed away from the door. Xene pressed herself close to it. "Mother?" she asked a little sharply, "What are you doing? You need to be readying for the coronation," the princess said toward the wood.
She was met with absolute silence, which only seemed to infuriate her. Wrapping her knuckles against the wood, Xene stared expectantly at the door as if willing it open with sheer determination alone. "Mother, you cannot remain holed up in your rooms. You cannot avoid the day just because you don't want to stand in the crowd. Today is important. We need to show support to King Achilleas," Xene asserted, only to continue to earn no answer from her mother on the other side. She could hear the woman moving about, likely stewing and glaring at the door, wishing she could stare literal daggers into her daughter.
The princess was quick to give up her fight, letting her distaste be heard. "Fine. Stay in your rooms," she snapped to the silent woman on the other side of the door. Then she turned to the servants and motioned the guards back over. "I don't care if you have to go in through the balcony, get the door open. Make sure my mother attends the coronation. Now is not the time for petulance and grief. If she comes out, prepare her. Rhea will attend with her if only to keep her civil. Upon my invitation. I will tell the King," the princess added rather firmly, her gaze flicking to Rhea, who nodded in agreement to the terms.
"Mikaelidas will not be made a fool because old queens will not relent, mother!" Xene threw over her shoulder, turning on her heel and heading straight back toward her own rooms. By now, it was time to ready herself and she would not let her mother's temperament stop her from attending on her cousin before the coronation. She had gifts for both the King and Queen and it was important to Xene that they be given prior to the ceremony.
Thankfully, her ladies in waiting were already preparing her bath and the oils that would anoint her skin. The bath was long and languishing, exactly what she needed after receiving such silence from her own mother. If she wanted to be stubborn, two could play that game. Her golden curls were done up in intricate braids, little ringlets that hadn't been used for the delicate updo falling along her back.
In terms of her garb for the day, she opted for a similar shade of blue, wanting to seem the epitome of supportive on a day such as this. Wearing a softer shade of blue, though not one so eye-catching as what her cousin and the queen would be wearing, the princess stood before the looking glass, observing the simplicity of her dress. The fabric was hemmed with silver, and the belt slung across her shoulders was the same. The fibulae of her chiton were a simple design of peacock feather and flower, a pair gifted to her by her late father when she came of age. The princess finished the gown off with a softer blue himation and a pair of soft sandals. The best she had.
Moving about her room with quick ease, she gathered up the two parcels that she was to bring to her cousin and the queen and started out of her rooms, not exactly in a rush, but also not wanting to delay too much longer. Heron followed after her silently, having come to her room while she was dealing with her mother. Together they trailed the quiet halls of the Palati, first stopping at Achilleas' room, only to find them empty. It only took questioning one of the servants on his location to trail the King and Queen to her rooms.
Knocking lightly, Xene looked up from the parcels in her hands when a servant opened the door to Queen Theodora's rooms. She had expected the queen and the king. She had not expected her mister. Though surprised, which flashed in her gaze for only a moment, she gave no other hint of any other emotion but jovial celebration for her cousin and his wife as she was directed in. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting," Xene started from the doorway, giving Achilleas a warm smile and then Theodora an equally warm gesture.
"I was hoping that I would catch the two of you before the ceremony started," Xene said in soft greeting, falling into a delicate bow for the both of them. She held up both hands, one to Theodora and one to Achilleas, "I brought you both gifts. I... tried to have them finished before your wedding, but they were delayed," the princess admitted gently. Inside both boxes, there were matching gold bracelets. The metalwork was intricate and beautiful and very clearly expertly crafted. "With his highness moving south with the troops, I wished for you to have something to remain connected to him by," Xene said to the young queen.
With her blue gaze slowly lifting toward Lord Leventi, she gave him an incredibly polite smile. "I'm sorry, Lord Leventi... had I known you would be here, I would have brought you a gift as well," the princess said delicately, the lightest of smiles settling on her lips.
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There was something of an ease that had settled across Xene's shoulders in the days leading from the death of her Uncle. King Irakles had fallen during his own son's wedding, and while the princess had held only the slightest bit of affection for the man, she did not feel the loss as profoundly now as she had in the moment. In fact, upon finding silent and comfort on her own, a moment to think and a few sips of water left her to realize that she felt nothing at all for her Uncle. She had spent years vying for some sort of acceptance from the man, but he had never truly looked upon her in any way that would have mattered.
To him, she had always been a child. A girl who did not know anything of what she spoke despite her own pull with both the court and the senate. It infuriated her that, like her cousins, there had never once been a moment where he had considered her important for anything other than marrying a worthwhile suitor. To bring luck and fortune to an already fortuitous family.
At the end of it all, after days of consideration and silent grief over seeing someone die more than the actual loss of the person himself... Xene had decided to, very plainly, tell her Uncle that he could fuck himself straight across the River Styx. If she had known he was just going to drop dead and leave one of his sons to rule a Kingdom he usurped from her brother, she might have pushed harder to bring her brother justice. Sooner. But she hadn't. And Stephanos was now well and truly stuck in Colchis.
These were never thoughts that Xene would express to either Achilleas or Emilios, but she couldn't help but think them as the bitter taste of the last few months settled sharply on her tongue. Now, knowing that her cousin really hadn't had a single choice in the matter, Xene had made it her goal to support the new King Achilleas in every way that she could. They had met a few times since the death of his father, and Xene had spent considerable time trying to help build Achilleas' confidence and ease his mind about taking the throne. It wasn't easy, not by any means, but Xene hadn't gotten where she had in her position as princess without building relationships and connections with those around her.
Now, at the moment where her branch of the Mikaelidas bloodline would likely fizzle out and disappear into annals of history, she simply found herself needing to carve her own path. Xene struggled silently with the fact that she had no true power anymore, but she could hold sway and confidence with King Achilleas, at the very least. Hopefully, their efforts to shed Stephanos of his charges would continue, even while Achilleas took on the mantle of King. It would feel like such a stark betrayal otherwise, and she was entirely sure that Achilleas was aware of this. Now that King Irakles was out of the way, maybe they could make true headway.
Settled silently in front of the archway that connected to the balcony of her quarters within the Palati, which she had been so generously allowed to keep thus far, Xene supped on a cup of water as the sun freshly trailed over the horizon. Today was the day that King Achilleas officially made a show of his ascension to the throne. From a Lord to a Prince to a King within only a matter of weeks, she understood that he would likely have a great number of nerves or reservations. He had up to this point and the princess was very sure that those feelings would not just disappear as soon as the crown was officially and publically his.
But her thoughts of her cousin were quickly interrupted. A sharp knock upon her door had the sleepy princess turning on graceful feet. She was still dressed in her dressing chiton, a gown she slept in more often than not, except when the Taengean summers grew stiflingly hot. Reaching for a thin shawl that she could throw over her shoulders, Xene cleared her throat, letting the hand holding her cup settle at her side, held with her palm facing down. "Enter," Xene said calmly, trying not to think about how much of a mess her hair might be that morning.
To her surprise, it was her mother's retainer that entered, worry etching the already deeply wrinkled lines of her face. The older woman tried to bow but Xene waved her off, not finding it entirely necessary at the moment. "Your highness," the woman started, looking up with dark eyes. "It’s your mother. She will not open the door of her rooms. She will not let anyone inside," the old woman crooned.
If there was something that Xene did not need to endure this morning, it was her mother's temper. Much like Stephanos, her mother's temper could rival even the most spiteful of gods. It was a wonder that Elise and Stephanos had gotten along at all. Xene, however, was not keen on letting her mother continue to throw a tantrum, not when her presence today was paramount to showing support for her nephew. It would show favorably on the ousted branch of the family to stand together to support Achilleas, and gods be willing, Xene would make sure she was there.
"Of course," Xene said lightly, breathing very calmly through her nose. Reaching over, she placed her cup onto the table by the archway and started moving to the door. "I'll take care of it. Thank you, Rhea," Xene said softly, stepping out the door and leaving the old woman behind. She could vaguely hear the woman puffing behind her in an effort to keep up with Xene's purposeful strides in the direction of her mother's chambers. She took the shortest way possible, not willing to give her mother any extra time to formulate any sort of plan of escape. Not that she was a prisoner, but her mother should have understood the importance of this day. If King Achilleas were to be offended by Lady Elise's behavior, they could all be ousted from their lifelong home.
Rounding the corner toward her mother's rooms, Xene tried not to roll her eyes at the number of slaves and guards who were hovering by the door. The princess also couldn't help but feel some bit of resignation. Though she was irritated with her mother's behavior, she knew such actions taken by her mother to be entirely out of character. That was worrying on its own, though she had little time to really think about it.
"Excuse me," Xene said calmly as she approached, her bare feet slapping sharply against the marble. "Stand at the corner, keep anyone from bearing witness to my mother's tantrum," she said a little scathingly to the guards. They all scattered and the servants backed away from the door. Xene pressed herself close to it. "Mother?" she asked a little sharply, "What are you doing? You need to be readying for the coronation," the princess said toward the wood.
She was met with absolute silence, which only seemed to infuriate her. Wrapping her knuckles against the wood, Xene stared expectantly at the door as if willing it open with sheer determination alone. "Mother, you cannot remain holed up in your rooms. You cannot avoid the day just because you don't want to stand in the crowd. Today is important. We need to show support to King Achilleas," Xene asserted, only to continue to earn no answer from her mother on the other side. She could hear the woman moving about, likely stewing and glaring at the door, wishing she could stare literal daggers into her daughter.
The princess was quick to give up her fight, letting her distaste be heard. "Fine. Stay in your rooms," she snapped to the silent woman on the other side of the door. Then she turned to the servants and motioned the guards back over. "I don't care if you have to go in through the balcony, get the door open. Make sure my mother attends the coronation. Now is not the time for petulance and grief. If she comes out, prepare her. Rhea will attend with her if only to keep her civil. Upon my invitation. I will tell the King," the princess added rather firmly, her gaze flicking to Rhea, who nodded in agreement to the terms.
"Mikaelidas will not be made a fool because old queens will not relent, mother!" Xene threw over her shoulder, turning on her heel and heading straight back toward her own rooms. By now, it was time to ready herself and she would not let her mother's temperament stop her from attending on her cousin before the coronation. She had gifts for both the King and Queen and it was important to Xene that they be given prior to the ceremony.
Thankfully, her ladies in waiting were already preparing her bath and the oils that would anoint her skin. The bath was long and languishing, exactly what she needed after receiving such silence from her own mother. If she wanted to be stubborn, two could play that game. Her golden curls were done up in intricate braids, little ringlets that hadn't been used for the delicate updo falling along her back.
In terms of her garb for the day, she opted for a similar shade of blue, wanting to seem the epitome of supportive on a day such as this. Wearing a softer shade of blue, though not one so eye-catching as what her cousin and the queen would be wearing, the princess stood before the looking glass, observing the simplicity of her dress. The fabric was hemmed with silver, and the belt slung across her shoulders was the same. The fibulae of her chiton were a simple design of peacock feather and flower, a pair gifted to her by her late father when she came of age. The princess finished the gown off with a softer blue himation and a pair of soft sandals. The best she had.
Moving about her room with quick ease, she gathered up the two parcels that she was to bring to her cousin and the queen and started out of her rooms, not exactly in a rush, but also not wanting to delay too much longer. Heron followed after her silently, having come to her room while she was dealing with her mother. Together they trailed the quiet halls of the Palati, first stopping at Achilleas' room, only to find them empty. It only took questioning one of the servants on his location to trail the King and Queen to her rooms.
Knocking lightly, Xene looked up from the parcels in her hands when a servant opened the door to Queen Theodora's rooms. She had expected the queen and the king. She had not expected her mister. Though surprised, which flashed in her gaze for only a moment, she gave no other hint of any other emotion but jovial celebration for her cousin and his wife as she was directed in. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting," Xene started from the doorway, giving Achilleas a warm smile and then Theodora an equally warm gesture.
"I was hoping that I would catch the two of you before the ceremony started," Xene said in soft greeting, falling into a delicate bow for the both of them. She held up both hands, one to Theodora and one to Achilleas, "I brought you both gifts. I... tried to have them finished before your wedding, but they were delayed," the princess admitted gently. Inside both boxes, there were matching gold bracelets. The metalwork was intricate and beautiful and very clearly expertly crafted. "With his highness moving south with the troops, I wished for you to have something to remain connected to him by," Xene said to the young queen.
With her blue gaze slowly lifting toward Lord Leventi, she gave him an incredibly polite smile. "I'm sorry, Lord Leventi... had I known you would be here, I would have brought you a gift as well," the princess said delicately, the lightest of smiles settling on her lips.
There was something of an ease that had settled across Xene's shoulders in the days leading from the death of her Uncle. King Irakles had fallen during his own son's wedding, and while the princess had held only the slightest bit of affection for the man, she did not feel the loss as profoundly now as she had in the moment. In fact, upon finding silent and comfort on her own, a moment to think and a few sips of water left her to realize that she felt nothing at all for her Uncle. She had spent years vying for some sort of acceptance from the man, but he had never truly looked upon her in any way that would have mattered.
To him, she had always been a child. A girl who did not know anything of what she spoke despite her own pull with both the court and the senate. It infuriated her that, like her cousins, there had never once been a moment where he had considered her important for anything other than marrying a worthwhile suitor. To bring luck and fortune to an already fortuitous family.
At the end of it all, after days of consideration and silent grief over seeing someone die more than the actual loss of the person himself... Xene had decided to, very plainly, tell her Uncle that he could fuck himself straight across the River Styx. If she had known he was just going to drop dead and leave one of his sons to rule a Kingdom he usurped from her brother, she might have pushed harder to bring her brother justice. Sooner. But she hadn't. And Stephanos was now well and truly stuck in Colchis.
These were never thoughts that Xene would express to either Achilleas or Emilios, but she couldn't help but think them as the bitter taste of the last few months settled sharply on her tongue. Now, knowing that her cousin really hadn't had a single choice in the matter, Xene had made it her goal to support the new King Achilleas in every way that she could. They had met a few times since the death of his father, and Xene had spent considerable time trying to help build Achilleas' confidence and ease his mind about taking the throne. It wasn't easy, not by any means, but Xene hadn't gotten where she had in her position as princess without building relationships and connections with those around her.
Now, at the moment where her branch of the Mikaelidas bloodline would likely fizzle out and disappear into annals of history, she simply found herself needing to carve her own path. Xene struggled silently with the fact that she had no true power anymore, but she could hold sway and confidence with King Achilleas, at the very least. Hopefully, their efforts to shed Stephanos of his charges would continue, even while Achilleas took on the mantle of King. It would feel like such a stark betrayal otherwise, and she was entirely sure that Achilleas was aware of this. Now that King Irakles was out of the way, maybe they could make true headway.
Settled silently in front of the archway that connected to the balcony of her quarters within the Palati, which she had been so generously allowed to keep thus far, Xene supped on a cup of water as the sun freshly trailed over the horizon. Today was the day that King Achilleas officially made a show of his ascension to the throne. From a Lord to a Prince to a King within only a matter of weeks, she understood that he would likely have a great number of nerves or reservations. He had up to this point and the princess was very sure that those feelings would not just disappear as soon as the crown was officially and publically his.
But her thoughts of her cousin were quickly interrupted. A sharp knock upon her door had the sleepy princess turning on graceful feet. She was still dressed in her dressing chiton, a gown she slept in more often than not, except when the Taengean summers grew stiflingly hot. Reaching for a thin shawl that she could throw over her shoulders, Xene cleared her throat, letting the hand holding her cup settle at her side, held with her palm facing down. "Enter," Xene said calmly, trying not to think about how much of a mess her hair might be that morning.
To her surprise, it was her mother's retainer that entered, worry etching the already deeply wrinkled lines of her face. The older woman tried to bow but Xene waved her off, not finding it entirely necessary at the moment. "Your highness," the woman started, looking up with dark eyes. "It’s your mother. She will not open the door of her rooms. She will not let anyone inside," the old woman crooned.
If there was something that Xene did not need to endure this morning, it was her mother's temper. Much like Stephanos, her mother's temper could rival even the most spiteful of gods. It was a wonder that Elise and Stephanos had gotten along at all. Xene, however, was not keen on letting her mother continue to throw a tantrum, not when her presence today was paramount to showing support for her nephew. It would show favorably on the ousted branch of the family to stand together to support Achilleas, and gods be willing, Xene would make sure she was there.
"Of course," Xene said lightly, breathing very calmly through her nose. Reaching over, she placed her cup onto the table by the archway and started moving to the door. "I'll take care of it. Thank you, Rhea," Xene said softly, stepping out the door and leaving the old woman behind. She could vaguely hear the woman puffing behind her in an effort to keep up with Xene's purposeful strides in the direction of her mother's chambers. She took the shortest way possible, not willing to give her mother any extra time to formulate any sort of plan of escape. Not that she was a prisoner, but her mother should have understood the importance of this day. If King Achilleas were to be offended by Lady Elise's behavior, they could all be ousted from their lifelong home.
Rounding the corner toward her mother's rooms, Xene tried not to roll her eyes at the number of slaves and guards who were hovering by the door. The princess also couldn't help but feel some bit of resignation. Though she was irritated with her mother's behavior, she knew such actions taken by her mother to be entirely out of character. That was worrying on its own, though she had little time to really think about it.
"Excuse me," Xene said calmly as she approached, her bare feet slapping sharply against the marble. "Stand at the corner, keep anyone from bearing witness to my mother's tantrum," she said a little scathingly to the guards. They all scattered and the servants backed away from the door. Xene pressed herself close to it. "Mother?" she asked a little sharply, "What are you doing? You need to be readying for the coronation," the princess said toward the wood.
She was met with absolute silence, which only seemed to infuriate her. Wrapping her knuckles against the wood, Xene stared expectantly at the door as if willing it open with sheer determination alone. "Mother, you cannot remain holed up in your rooms. You cannot avoid the day just because you don't want to stand in the crowd. Today is important. We need to show support to King Achilleas," Xene asserted, only to continue to earn no answer from her mother on the other side. She could hear the woman moving about, likely stewing and glaring at the door, wishing she could stare literal daggers into her daughter.
The princess was quick to give up her fight, letting her distaste be heard. "Fine. Stay in your rooms," she snapped to the silent woman on the other side of the door. Then she turned to the servants and motioned the guards back over. "I don't care if you have to go in through the balcony, get the door open. Make sure my mother attends the coronation. Now is not the time for petulance and grief. If she comes out, prepare her. Rhea will attend with her if only to keep her civil. Upon my invitation. I will tell the King," the princess added rather firmly, her gaze flicking to Rhea, who nodded in agreement to the terms.
"Mikaelidas will not be made a fool because old queens will not relent, mother!" Xene threw over her shoulder, turning on her heel and heading straight back toward her own rooms. By now, it was time to ready herself and she would not let her mother's temperament stop her from attending on her cousin before the coronation. She had gifts for both the King and Queen and it was important to Xene that they be given prior to the ceremony.
Thankfully, her ladies in waiting were already preparing her bath and the oils that would anoint her skin. The bath was long and languishing, exactly what she needed after receiving such silence from her own mother. If she wanted to be stubborn, two could play that game. Her golden curls were done up in intricate braids, little ringlets that hadn't been used for the delicate updo falling along her back.
In terms of her garb for the day, she opted for a similar shade of blue, wanting to seem the epitome of supportive on a day such as this. Wearing a softer shade of blue, though not one so eye-catching as what her cousin and the queen would be wearing, the princess stood before the looking glass, observing the simplicity of her dress. The fabric was hemmed with silver, and the belt slung across her shoulders was the same. The fibulae of her chiton were a simple design of peacock feather and flower, a pair gifted to her by her late father when she came of age. The princess finished the gown off with a softer blue himation and a pair of soft sandals. The best she had.
Moving about her room with quick ease, she gathered up the two parcels that she was to bring to her cousin and the queen and started out of her rooms, not exactly in a rush, but also not wanting to delay too much longer. Heron followed after her silently, having come to her room while she was dealing with her mother. Together they trailed the quiet halls of the Palati, first stopping at Achilleas' room, only to find them empty. It only took questioning one of the servants on his location to trail the King and Queen to her rooms.
Knocking lightly, Xene looked up from the parcels in her hands when a servant opened the door to Queen Theodora's rooms. She had expected the queen and the king. She had not expected her mister. Though surprised, which flashed in her gaze for only a moment, she gave no other hint of any other emotion but jovial celebration for her cousin and his wife as she was directed in. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting," Xene started from the doorway, giving Achilleas a warm smile and then Theodora an equally warm gesture.
"I was hoping that I would catch the two of you before the ceremony started," Xene said in soft greeting, falling into a delicate bow for the both of them. She held up both hands, one to Theodora and one to Achilleas, "I brought you both gifts. I... tried to have them finished before your wedding, but they were delayed," the princess admitted gently. Inside both boxes, there were matching gold bracelets. The metalwork was intricate and beautiful and very clearly expertly crafted. "With his highness moving south with the troops, I wished for you to have something to remain connected to him by," Xene said to the young queen.
With her blue gaze slowly lifting toward Lord Leventi, she gave him an incredibly polite smile. "I'm sorry, Lord Leventi... had I known you would be here, I would have brought you a gift as well," the princess said delicately, the lightest of smiles settling on her lips.
It was not really what Achilleas wanted, an invitation extended out of politeness rather than desire. Indeed, the Mikaelidas man would far have preferred to share a few moments alone with his Queen before they became swept up in the day ahead. Yet as the Leventi Lord agreed to join them for breakfast as per his request, the King gave a crisp nod, and then extended his arm to Theodora for her to take, leading them all into the small solar where a simple spread had been laid out.
The room, if it could correctly be termed such, opened up the courtyard gardens of the palati, some small privacy afforded by the lengths of silk that hung between stone pillars and rippled slightly in a cool autumn breeze. Still, it could not be called cold, and Achilleas welcomed the brisk air, because it kept him sharp, and he felt a need to be such around his wife’s Uncle.
When idle conversation turned towards talk of the upcoming war, Achilleas glanced at Theodora sat beside him. It was far from how he would have liked to begin their life as man and wife, to be leaving to fight a battle on foreign soil, but then enough had happened already to establish that they were at the whim of the fates in such things. His Queen would have to accept that his responsibility would draw him away. It was not in either of their hands to prevent it, not unless Achilleas was prepared to sit back a coward and let others go in his stead, and that was never going to happen. Thus far, there had been few words spoken between them of it, but he wondered if that would change as it came closer and became more real. He was no stranger to war, but he doubted the reality of it had ever touched his sweet wife. If things went to plan, then perhaps it still would not, save for his absence for a little while. Athena smile upon me and make it so he wished silently, for he had no intention of seeing an Egyptian force set foot upon Taengean soil.
Achilleas drew a breath and lifted a brow as he surveyed Lord Fotios, preparing to answer the man. “My brother of course will act in my stead when I am away. There are many here who can aid him in this matter, yourself not excluded of course my Lord. In terms of what must be done, we cannot assume that this initial campaign will be enough to prevent further conflict” Assuming anything was foolhardy, and Achilleas was not one who would neglect to prepare as best as he could for every eventually. “Whilst the intent, as you know, is to cut their legs out from beneath them,our armies must be readied. We are blessed at least that we have passed the harvest so our people’s focus may not be so divided. But waging war is no small thing, nor should it be counted as such”
The forges were already hard at work outfitting those men who would go with him to Egypt, but that would not be all. They would need to ensure they had enough raw materials to work with to arm all of Taengea’s forces, and would need to speak with their allies in Colchis if that was not so. Food supplies would need to be carefully monitored, and the southern coast line shored up in case anything were to go awry. These things must happen, and Achilleas would be reliant on those left behind to ensure that they did.
Achilleas blinked at Lord Fotios’ next question, suppressing a mild exasperation. He knew from experience how things could fall foul of even meticulously laid plans, and so he had deliberately been vague with Theodora about how long he might be gone for.
“Our intelligence suggests a fleet of ships being made ready. To destroy them is our goal at this stage, but how easy that is depends on any resistance we might meet. My hope is that we can achieve such a success without lingering, we do not take men for any large scale engagement with Eygptian forces. Surprise and stealth will be our friends in this. So, rest assured I do not plan on dawdling, Lord Fotios. A month perhaps..”
He was saved from having to be any more specific but the timely arrival of his cousin, the Princess Xene, and though Achilleas had not been expecting her, he met her smile of greeting with one of his own. More glad than he could say that they had found some of the closeness they had shared as youngsters again, it had been a comfort to have Xene around in the past days. Not only because she was family, but his cousin was a prominent figure in court, and Achilleas knew better than to discount her opinion. Even if she had to shout it at him a couple of times before he remembered.
And of course there had been that letter from Stephanos too, bidding him to look out for his sisters, a thing that he felt honour bound to oblige his cousin in. He had not told Xene that portion of it, but it had stuck firmly in his own mind, and he’d made mention of it to Emilios too, in his new role as Head of House. He looked over at the Princess, taking a subtle measure of her appearance, and was pleased to note that she seemed quite well within herself. There was a look of surprise at the packages she offered towards Theodora and himself, and Achilleas unwrapped his alongside his wife. Touched by the thought, and the offering, the King was quite a moment, letting Theodora speak her thanks before he nodded in agreement,even if further mention of his coming absence made him a little uncomfortable.
“That is most thoughtful, your Highness, and unexpected. Thank you.” And then as he followed Xene’s gaze toward the Lord Fotios, he gestured for the Princess to join them if she so wished. “Please sit, Xene. Enjoy the quiet before the storm as it were.”
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It was not really what Achilleas wanted, an invitation extended out of politeness rather than desire. Indeed, the Mikaelidas man would far have preferred to share a few moments alone with his Queen before they became swept up in the day ahead. Yet as the Leventi Lord agreed to join them for breakfast as per his request, the King gave a crisp nod, and then extended his arm to Theodora for her to take, leading them all into the small solar where a simple spread had been laid out.
The room, if it could correctly be termed such, opened up the courtyard gardens of the palati, some small privacy afforded by the lengths of silk that hung between stone pillars and rippled slightly in a cool autumn breeze. Still, it could not be called cold, and Achilleas welcomed the brisk air, because it kept him sharp, and he felt a need to be such around his wife’s Uncle.
When idle conversation turned towards talk of the upcoming war, Achilleas glanced at Theodora sat beside him. It was far from how he would have liked to begin their life as man and wife, to be leaving to fight a battle on foreign soil, but then enough had happened already to establish that they were at the whim of the fates in such things. His Queen would have to accept that his responsibility would draw him away. It was not in either of their hands to prevent it, not unless Achilleas was prepared to sit back a coward and let others go in his stead, and that was never going to happen. Thus far, there had been few words spoken between them of it, but he wondered if that would change as it came closer and became more real. He was no stranger to war, but he doubted the reality of it had ever touched his sweet wife. If things went to plan, then perhaps it still would not, save for his absence for a little while. Athena smile upon me and make it so he wished silently, for he had no intention of seeing an Egyptian force set foot upon Taengean soil.
Achilleas drew a breath and lifted a brow as he surveyed Lord Fotios, preparing to answer the man. “My brother of course will act in my stead when I am away. There are many here who can aid him in this matter, yourself not excluded of course my Lord. In terms of what must be done, we cannot assume that this initial campaign will be enough to prevent further conflict” Assuming anything was foolhardy, and Achilleas was not one who would neglect to prepare as best as he could for every eventually. “Whilst the intent, as you know, is to cut their legs out from beneath them,our armies must be readied. We are blessed at least that we have passed the harvest so our people’s focus may not be so divided. But waging war is no small thing, nor should it be counted as such”
The forges were already hard at work outfitting those men who would go with him to Egypt, but that would not be all. They would need to ensure they had enough raw materials to work with to arm all of Taengea’s forces, and would need to speak with their allies in Colchis if that was not so. Food supplies would need to be carefully monitored, and the southern coast line shored up in case anything were to go awry. These things must happen, and Achilleas would be reliant on those left behind to ensure that they did.
Achilleas blinked at Lord Fotios’ next question, suppressing a mild exasperation. He knew from experience how things could fall foul of even meticulously laid plans, and so he had deliberately been vague with Theodora about how long he might be gone for.
“Our intelligence suggests a fleet of ships being made ready. To destroy them is our goal at this stage, but how easy that is depends on any resistance we might meet. My hope is that we can achieve such a success without lingering, we do not take men for any large scale engagement with Eygptian forces. Surprise and stealth will be our friends in this. So, rest assured I do not plan on dawdling, Lord Fotios. A month perhaps..”
He was saved from having to be any more specific but the timely arrival of his cousin, the Princess Xene, and though Achilleas had not been expecting her, he met her smile of greeting with one of his own. More glad than he could say that they had found some of the closeness they had shared as youngsters again, it had been a comfort to have Xene around in the past days. Not only because she was family, but his cousin was a prominent figure in court, and Achilleas knew better than to discount her opinion. Even if she had to shout it at him a couple of times before he remembered.
And of course there had been that letter from Stephanos too, bidding him to look out for his sisters, a thing that he felt honour bound to oblige his cousin in. He had not told Xene that portion of it, but it had stuck firmly in his own mind, and he’d made mention of it to Emilios too, in his new role as Head of House. He looked over at the Princess, taking a subtle measure of her appearance, and was pleased to note that she seemed quite well within herself. There was a look of surprise at the packages she offered towards Theodora and himself, and Achilleas unwrapped his alongside his wife. Touched by the thought, and the offering, the King was quite a moment, letting Theodora speak her thanks before he nodded in agreement,even if further mention of his coming absence made him a little uncomfortable.
“That is most thoughtful, your Highness, and unexpected. Thank you.” And then as he followed Xene’s gaze toward the Lord Fotios, he gestured for the Princess to join them if she so wished. “Please sit, Xene. Enjoy the quiet before the storm as it were.”
It was not really what Achilleas wanted, an invitation extended out of politeness rather than desire. Indeed, the Mikaelidas man would far have preferred to share a few moments alone with his Queen before they became swept up in the day ahead. Yet as the Leventi Lord agreed to join them for breakfast as per his request, the King gave a crisp nod, and then extended his arm to Theodora for her to take, leading them all into the small solar where a simple spread had been laid out.
The room, if it could correctly be termed such, opened up the courtyard gardens of the palati, some small privacy afforded by the lengths of silk that hung between stone pillars and rippled slightly in a cool autumn breeze. Still, it could not be called cold, and Achilleas welcomed the brisk air, because it kept him sharp, and he felt a need to be such around his wife’s Uncle.
When idle conversation turned towards talk of the upcoming war, Achilleas glanced at Theodora sat beside him. It was far from how he would have liked to begin their life as man and wife, to be leaving to fight a battle on foreign soil, but then enough had happened already to establish that they were at the whim of the fates in such things. His Queen would have to accept that his responsibility would draw him away. It was not in either of their hands to prevent it, not unless Achilleas was prepared to sit back a coward and let others go in his stead, and that was never going to happen. Thus far, there had been few words spoken between them of it, but he wondered if that would change as it came closer and became more real. He was no stranger to war, but he doubted the reality of it had ever touched his sweet wife. If things went to plan, then perhaps it still would not, save for his absence for a little while. Athena smile upon me and make it so he wished silently, for he had no intention of seeing an Egyptian force set foot upon Taengean soil.
Achilleas drew a breath and lifted a brow as he surveyed Lord Fotios, preparing to answer the man. “My brother of course will act in my stead when I am away. There are many here who can aid him in this matter, yourself not excluded of course my Lord. In terms of what must be done, we cannot assume that this initial campaign will be enough to prevent further conflict” Assuming anything was foolhardy, and Achilleas was not one who would neglect to prepare as best as he could for every eventually. “Whilst the intent, as you know, is to cut their legs out from beneath them,our armies must be readied. We are blessed at least that we have passed the harvest so our people’s focus may not be so divided. But waging war is no small thing, nor should it be counted as such”
The forges were already hard at work outfitting those men who would go with him to Egypt, but that would not be all. They would need to ensure they had enough raw materials to work with to arm all of Taengea’s forces, and would need to speak with their allies in Colchis if that was not so. Food supplies would need to be carefully monitored, and the southern coast line shored up in case anything were to go awry. These things must happen, and Achilleas would be reliant on those left behind to ensure that they did.
Achilleas blinked at Lord Fotios’ next question, suppressing a mild exasperation. He knew from experience how things could fall foul of even meticulously laid plans, and so he had deliberately been vague with Theodora about how long he might be gone for.
“Our intelligence suggests a fleet of ships being made ready. To destroy them is our goal at this stage, but how easy that is depends on any resistance we might meet. My hope is that we can achieve such a success without lingering, we do not take men for any large scale engagement with Eygptian forces. Surprise and stealth will be our friends in this. So, rest assured I do not plan on dawdling, Lord Fotios. A month perhaps..”
He was saved from having to be any more specific but the timely arrival of his cousin, the Princess Xene, and though Achilleas had not been expecting her, he met her smile of greeting with one of his own. More glad than he could say that they had found some of the closeness they had shared as youngsters again, it had been a comfort to have Xene around in the past days. Not only because she was family, but his cousin was a prominent figure in court, and Achilleas knew better than to discount her opinion. Even if she had to shout it at him a couple of times before he remembered.
And of course there had been that letter from Stephanos too, bidding him to look out for his sisters, a thing that he felt honour bound to oblige his cousin in. He had not told Xene that portion of it, but it had stuck firmly in his own mind, and he’d made mention of it to Emilios too, in his new role as Head of House. He looked over at the Princess, taking a subtle measure of her appearance, and was pleased to note that she seemed quite well within herself. There was a look of surprise at the packages she offered towards Theodora and himself, and Achilleas unwrapped his alongside his wife. Touched by the thought, and the offering, the King was quite a moment, letting Theodora speak her thanks before he nodded in agreement,even if further mention of his coming absence made him a little uncomfortable.
“That is most thoughtful, your Highness, and unexpected. Thank you.” And then as he followed Xene’s gaze toward the Lord Fotios, he gestured for the Princess to join them if she so wished. “Please sit, Xene. Enjoy the quiet before the storm as it were.”
Despite his reputation keeping him often to the shadows of social events, this was not a sign of poor social skills on Fotios' part. A man who was skilled in talk, communication, word-play and the ways in which bodily language could either hinder or lend to the words coming from your mouth, Fotios was far from unskilled in the ways of chatter that might seem idle to others but was a carefully constructed facade of integration with the nobility of his birth lands. Usually, Fotios stayed away solely for the reason that he wished not to be remembered at a particular event, or wished to be objective in allowing events to unfold before him so that he couldn't be accused of being their mastermind after the fact.
As such, Fotios discoursed with Achilleas, his temper, behaviour and speech carefully structured to show deference to the new king, penitence to his rank and respect to his opinion. He looked up when he was spoken to directly or Achilleas made a particular point. In the gaps, he turned his gaze down to his breakfast of fruits and soda bread, nodding in general understanding and acceptance of the words that drifted across the table with the power of a man used to being a military leader and not a king. When there was a moment of insecurity - the mention of the war, the time in which the king would be away - Fotios was careful to send a surreptitious look towards his niece, indicating a sense of care and consideration for the new Queen and her feelings. He specifically did not look her way at the mention of Emilios; instead just nodding at the new King's decision for a guardian of his lands in his absence.
"I'm sure your brother will do all he can to take your place temporarily, Your Majesty." Fotios responded with a nod, his tone giving nothing away of an alternate meaning. "I have heard good reports of his skills on the battlefield. And the Order's knowledge of strongholds and how the city might become one will be of invaluable use I am sure." Pressing a cloth to his lips to remove any remaining fruit juices, Fotios was careful yet entirely genuine in his next words. "You have many experienced men in your Court, Your Majesty... Lord Gavriil, Lord Nikolias... myself if I were so bold as to suggest it. Any that you chose not to take with you would be able to use their expertise, I am sure, to defend Taengea from any backlash upon your mission."
He didn't mention that any attack on Vasiliadon would imply a failure on the King's part. Not because he didn't want to insult the man (though he didn't), but more because war was not so clear cut as that. Achilleas might manage to do exactly what he set out to do and Egyptian feet might still land on Taengean soil. Because they had not the information to know exactly what Egypt was preparing. All eventualities had to be considered and made arrangements for. It was this side of Achilleas' mind that Fotios could heartily approve of, for he thought a similar way. A master of the game mercenaries, did not play a single focused game, but constructed every possible vantage point to be exploited as and when the opportunity arose, crushing those same chances for the opposition. It was not so simple as win and fail.
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the Princess Xene, a woman who now held rank but no real power. Fotios had assured the young woman when last that they had met at the Leventi manor that he was seeing that the last were changed to at least give her the comfort of her own home and small piece of land to rule over. But that was for a future time outside of this celebration.
As was appropriate, Fotios nodded in a sort of seated bow that was respectful to the young woman, despite her lack of real authority now that the males on her side of the family had been removed and said nothing when she presented the gifts to the new king and his queen. Instead, he turned to tidying his utensils in an indication of the completion of his meal. The minutiae of distraction were a means of offering a sense of privacy to the others in the room, despite his presence. He only looked up when the lovely, blonde princess addressed him specifically.
With a soft smile of thanks and a stare that gave nothing away, Fotios spoke simply.
"There is never a need, princess." He assured her, as he bent his head again, his gaze finding hers as he straightened and knowing she would read more into the statement than anyone else in the room.
Instead of making more of a deal of the situation, Fotios simply stood from the table and moved away from his seat. He turned to Achilleas.
"Your Majesty, I have intruded on your hospitality too long already on a morning such as this. If you'll permit my leave, I'll allow you and your Queen and moment alone." And upon the accepted dismissal from the King, Fotios left the room with a simple look at the princess, that indicated that she may have wished to do the same. Wanting the king and queen to be as affirmed and secure in their relationship as possible before crowns landed on their head was significant to Fotios. The fact that it would mean he and Xene were alone in the antechamber outside the dining quarters of the royal chambers was simply a bonus. Master of mercenaries... many plans in motion...
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Check out their information page here.
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Despite his reputation keeping him often to the shadows of social events, this was not a sign of poor social skills on Fotios' part. A man who was skilled in talk, communication, word-play and the ways in which bodily language could either hinder or lend to the words coming from your mouth, Fotios was far from unskilled in the ways of chatter that might seem idle to others but was a carefully constructed facade of integration with the nobility of his birth lands. Usually, Fotios stayed away solely for the reason that he wished not to be remembered at a particular event, or wished to be objective in allowing events to unfold before him so that he couldn't be accused of being their mastermind after the fact.
As such, Fotios discoursed with Achilleas, his temper, behaviour and speech carefully structured to show deference to the new king, penitence to his rank and respect to his opinion. He looked up when he was spoken to directly or Achilleas made a particular point. In the gaps, he turned his gaze down to his breakfast of fruits and soda bread, nodding in general understanding and acceptance of the words that drifted across the table with the power of a man used to being a military leader and not a king. When there was a moment of insecurity - the mention of the war, the time in which the king would be away - Fotios was careful to send a surreptitious look towards his niece, indicating a sense of care and consideration for the new Queen and her feelings. He specifically did not look her way at the mention of Emilios; instead just nodding at the new King's decision for a guardian of his lands in his absence.
"I'm sure your brother will do all he can to take your place temporarily, Your Majesty." Fotios responded with a nod, his tone giving nothing away of an alternate meaning. "I have heard good reports of his skills on the battlefield. And the Order's knowledge of strongholds and how the city might become one will be of invaluable use I am sure." Pressing a cloth to his lips to remove any remaining fruit juices, Fotios was careful yet entirely genuine in his next words. "You have many experienced men in your Court, Your Majesty... Lord Gavriil, Lord Nikolias... myself if I were so bold as to suggest it. Any that you chose not to take with you would be able to use their expertise, I am sure, to defend Taengea from any backlash upon your mission."
He didn't mention that any attack on Vasiliadon would imply a failure on the King's part. Not because he didn't want to insult the man (though he didn't), but more because war was not so clear cut as that. Achilleas might manage to do exactly what he set out to do and Egyptian feet might still land on Taengean soil. Because they had not the information to know exactly what Egypt was preparing. All eventualities had to be considered and made arrangements for. It was this side of Achilleas' mind that Fotios could heartily approve of, for he thought a similar way. A master of the game mercenaries, did not play a single focused game, but constructed every possible vantage point to be exploited as and when the opportunity arose, crushing those same chances for the opposition. It was not so simple as win and fail.
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the Princess Xene, a woman who now held rank but no real power. Fotios had assured the young woman when last that they had met at the Leventi manor that he was seeing that the last were changed to at least give her the comfort of her own home and small piece of land to rule over. But that was for a future time outside of this celebration.
As was appropriate, Fotios nodded in a sort of seated bow that was respectful to the young woman, despite her lack of real authority now that the males on her side of the family had been removed and said nothing when she presented the gifts to the new king and his queen. Instead, he turned to tidying his utensils in an indication of the completion of his meal. The minutiae of distraction were a means of offering a sense of privacy to the others in the room, despite his presence. He only looked up when the lovely, blonde princess addressed him specifically.
With a soft smile of thanks and a stare that gave nothing away, Fotios spoke simply.
"There is never a need, princess." He assured her, as he bent his head again, his gaze finding hers as he straightened and knowing she would read more into the statement than anyone else in the room.
Instead of making more of a deal of the situation, Fotios simply stood from the table and moved away from his seat. He turned to Achilleas.
"Your Majesty, I have intruded on your hospitality too long already on a morning such as this. If you'll permit my leave, I'll allow you and your Queen and moment alone." And upon the accepted dismissal from the King, Fotios left the room with a simple look at the princess, that indicated that she may have wished to do the same. Wanting the king and queen to be as affirmed and secure in their relationship as possible before crowns landed on their head was significant to Fotios. The fact that it would mean he and Xene were alone in the antechamber outside the dining quarters of the royal chambers was simply a bonus. Master of mercenaries... many plans in motion...
Despite his reputation keeping him often to the shadows of social events, this was not a sign of poor social skills on Fotios' part. A man who was skilled in talk, communication, word-play and the ways in which bodily language could either hinder or lend to the words coming from your mouth, Fotios was far from unskilled in the ways of chatter that might seem idle to others but was a carefully constructed facade of integration with the nobility of his birth lands. Usually, Fotios stayed away solely for the reason that he wished not to be remembered at a particular event, or wished to be objective in allowing events to unfold before him so that he couldn't be accused of being their mastermind after the fact.
As such, Fotios discoursed with Achilleas, his temper, behaviour and speech carefully structured to show deference to the new king, penitence to his rank and respect to his opinion. He looked up when he was spoken to directly or Achilleas made a particular point. In the gaps, he turned his gaze down to his breakfast of fruits and soda bread, nodding in general understanding and acceptance of the words that drifted across the table with the power of a man used to being a military leader and not a king. When there was a moment of insecurity - the mention of the war, the time in which the king would be away - Fotios was careful to send a surreptitious look towards his niece, indicating a sense of care and consideration for the new Queen and her feelings. He specifically did not look her way at the mention of Emilios; instead just nodding at the new King's decision for a guardian of his lands in his absence.
"I'm sure your brother will do all he can to take your place temporarily, Your Majesty." Fotios responded with a nod, his tone giving nothing away of an alternate meaning. "I have heard good reports of his skills on the battlefield. And the Order's knowledge of strongholds and how the city might become one will be of invaluable use I am sure." Pressing a cloth to his lips to remove any remaining fruit juices, Fotios was careful yet entirely genuine in his next words. "You have many experienced men in your Court, Your Majesty... Lord Gavriil, Lord Nikolias... myself if I were so bold as to suggest it. Any that you chose not to take with you would be able to use their expertise, I am sure, to defend Taengea from any backlash upon your mission."
He didn't mention that any attack on Vasiliadon would imply a failure on the King's part. Not because he didn't want to insult the man (though he didn't), but more because war was not so clear cut as that. Achilleas might manage to do exactly what he set out to do and Egyptian feet might still land on Taengean soil. Because they had not the information to know exactly what Egypt was preparing. All eventualities had to be considered and made arrangements for. It was this side of Achilleas' mind that Fotios could heartily approve of, for he thought a similar way. A master of the game mercenaries, did not play a single focused game, but constructed every possible vantage point to be exploited as and when the opportunity arose, crushing those same chances for the opposition. It was not so simple as win and fail.
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the Princess Xene, a woman who now held rank but no real power. Fotios had assured the young woman when last that they had met at the Leventi manor that he was seeing that the last were changed to at least give her the comfort of her own home and small piece of land to rule over. But that was for a future time outside of this celebration.
As was appropriate, Fotios nodded in a sort of seated bow that was respectful to the young woman, despite her lack of real authority now that the males on her side of the family had been removed and said nothing when she presented the gifts to the new king and his queen. Instead, he turned to tidying his utensils in an indication of the completion of his meal. The minutiae of distraction were a means of offering a sense of privacy to the others in the room, despite his presence. He only looked up when the lovely, blonde princess addressed him specifically.
With a soft smile of thanks and a stare that gave nothing away, Fotios spoke simply.
"There is never a need, princess." He assured her, as he bent his head again, his gaze finding hers as he straightened and knowing she would read more into the statement than anyone else in the room.
Instead of making more of a deal of the situation, Fotios simply stood from the table and moved away from his seat. He turned to Achilleas.
"Your Majesty, I have intruded on your hospitality too long already on a morning such as this. If you'll permit my leave, I'll allow you and your Queen and moment alone." And upon the accepted dismissal from the King, Fotios left the room with a simple look at the princess, that indicated that she may have wished to do the same. Wanting the king and queen to be as affirmed and secure in their relationship as possible before crowns landed on their head was significant to Fotios. The fact that it would mean he and Xene were alone in the antechamber outside the dining quarters of the royal chambers was simply a bonus. Master of mercenaries... many plans in motion...
The morning had somehow managed to be both an absolute blur, and a dragging span of time that seemed to have no end. At least, for Theodora.
She had awakened early that day to her husband’s side of the bed empty, though this had not come as much of a surprise to the young woman. He frequently slipped away long before she opened her eyes – she worried it was becoming a bit of a habit on his behalf and had pondered mentioning it once or twice. But…not today. Today they had far more important matters at hand than her questions about his early risings.
Her servants had appeared not long after; or perhaps it was one of them knocking upon her door that had woken her from her slumber. The process of readying her for the long day ahead had seemed to take hours; bathing, anointing her with oils, dressing her, brushing out her dark hair until it shone in the light that filtered through her windows – growing steadily brighter with each passing minute. Then her hair had been styled meticulously, followed by makeup that would compliment the colours of her outfit meant to match her husband’s.
And she had not had to lift a single finger.
At some point, her uncle had shown up, and though she had expected some sense of unease between them due to their shared antagonism over the past few weeks, there had been nothing of the sort to speak of. He had spent most of that time reassuring her, reminding her of the little details she was sure to overlook, all while everyone else in the room whirled around them; like she and her uncle rested in the eye of a mighty storm.
Achilleas’ appearance had been a blessing, and it had been impossible to hide her relief upon seeing him standing in the doorway of her quarters. He had taken her breath away; the blue of his clothing, the blue of his eyes, the way his face brightened and relaxed in turn as he took her in.
From there, she had not really done or said much; she had gone along quietly, interacting only when necessary, for she feared if she dared to do more than that she might crumble apart where she stood. She found herself constantly glancing at herself, to be sure her hands were not shaking as she thought they ought to be with the racing of her heart, to be sure her clothing and hair was all still in order.
Could she eat? When had they even come here to eat in the first place? She felt as though she were moving throughout the day in a daze, and she needed to find some way to clear her head before the coronation; it would not do to be in such a state while her husband received his crown! Still, she was certain she would not, could not, force down any of the food set before her; she didn’t dare, lest she find herself ill. Her stomach was in absolute knots – she couldn’t bear the idea of putting anything in it, especially not with her uncle and her husband sitting there and discussing Achilleas’ upcoming departure.
Though she did listen attentively, every nerve in her body on edge, she kept her expression clear and calm; betraying absolutely nothing, lest she fall victim to her uncle’s scrutiny. Perhaps she knew little of war, but she knew enough to know she did not want her new husband – and Taengea’s newest king – leaving for it for a month…or maybe longer. She knew very well that Achilleas had been skirting around the length of his stay in the desert, reluctant to discuss such matters with his new wife. Now, as he did the same as he spoke with Fotios, she risked a glance up at his face in enough time to catch him blinking at the other man as though the question had caught him off guard.
Perhaps it was not just her, then? Maybe he simply did not want to promise a length to the trip regardless.
Not that she could have asked with her uncle sitting right there – nor a moment after, when the Princess Xene appeared. Like the rest of the Mikaelidas family, Xene was rather beautiful, and Theo found herself admiring the shine of the sun in the girl’s golden hair a moment before allowing herself to focus on the woman’s words instead. The gift she accepted with a quiet thanks, opening it only when she was certain Achilleas intended to do so; the carefully crafted item within had her gasping softly with delight.
“This is beautiful! Thank you very much. I shall wear it every day my husband is away.” The promise fell earnestly from her lips, followed by a somewhat tentative smile offered towards the princess.
The mention of Emilios and the war forgotten – for now, at least – Theodora carefully tucked her new gift to the side for safekeeping. She had meant what she said; she intended to wear the item until Achilleas returned, and she hoped he would do the same. What Xene had said had stuck with her: a way for them to remain connected no matter the distance between them. A touching sentiment, one that had her smiling softly as she returned her gaze to the full plate still set before her.
She was contemplating attempting to eat at least one thing from the dish when her uncle suddenly excused himself and rose. Before he could slip away, she would reach out to him to catch his eye before his departure. Should she manage to, she would merely murmur a soft thanks for his help that morning, and then she settled back into her seat.
Even though she was eager to have some time alone with her new husband, she certainly did not want to ask the princess to leave – though the glance between her and Fotios suggested the man intended for her to leave with him regardless. So she would wait, if only to see if she might speak openly with Achilleas about the upcoming events, or if she ought to maintain her mask a bit longer in the presence of Xene’s company.
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The morning had somehow managed to be both an absolute blur, and a dragging span of time that seemed to have no end. At least, for Theodora.
She had awakened early that day to her husband’s side of the bed empty, though this had not come as much of a surprise to the young woman. He frequently slipped away long before she opened her eyes – she worried it was becoming a bit of a habit on his behalf and had pondered mentioning it once or twice. But…not today. Today they had far more important matters at hand than her questions about his early risings.
Her servants had appeared not long after; or perhaps it was one of them knocking upon her door that had woken her from her slumber. The process of readying her for the long day ahead had seemed to take hours; bathing, anointing her with oils, dressing her, brushing out her dark hair until it shone in the light that filtered through her windows – growing steadily brighter with each passing minute. Then her hair had been styled meticulously, followed by makeup that would compliment the colours of her outfit meant to match her husband’s.
And she had not had to lift a single finger.
At some point, her uncle had shown up, and though she had expected some sense of unease between them due to their shared antagonism over the past few weeks, there had been nothing of the sort to speak of. He had spent most of that time reassuring her, reminding her of the little details she was sure to overlook, all while everyone else in the room whirled around them; like she and her uncle rested in the eye of a mighty storm.
Achilleas’ appearance had been a blessing, and it had been impossible to hide her relief upon seeing him standing in the doorway of her quarters. He had taken her breath away; the blue of his clothing, the blue of his eyes, the way his face brightened and relaxed in turn as he took her in.
From there, she had not really done or said much; she had gone along quietly, interacting only when necessary, for she feared if she dared to do more than that she might crumble apart where she stood. She found herself constantly glancing at herself, to be sure her hands were not shaking as she thought they ought to be with the racing of her heart, to be sure her clothing and hair was all still in order.
Could she eat? When had they even come here to eat in the first place? She felt as though she were moving throughout the day in a daze, and she needed to find some way to clear her head before the coronation; it would not do to be in such a state while her husband received his crown! Still, she was certain she would not, could not, force down any of the food set before her; she didn’t dare, lest she find herself ill. Her stomach was in absolute knots – she couldn’t bear the idea of putting anything in it, especially not with her uncle and her husband sitting there and discussing Achilleas’ upcoming departure.
Though she did listen attentively, every nerve in her body on edge, she kept her expression clear and calm; betraying absolutely nothing, lest she fall victim to her uncle’s scrutiny. Perhaps she knew little of war, but she knew enough to know she did not want her new husband – and Taengea’s newest king – leaving for it for a month…or maybe longer. She knew very well that Achilleas had been skirting around the length of his stay in the desert, reluctant to discuss such matters with his new wife. Now, as he did the same as he spoke with Fotios, she risked a glance up at his face in enough time to catch him blinking at the other man as though the question had caught him off guard.
Perhaps it was not just her, then? Maybe he simply did not want to promise a length to the trip regardless.
Not that she could have asked with her uncle sitting right there – nor a moment after, when the Princess Xene appeared. Like the rest of the Mikaelidas family, Xene was rather beautiful, and Theo found herself admiring the shine of the sun in the girl’s golden hair a moment before allowing herself to focus on the woman’s words instead. The gift she accepted with a quiet thanks, opening it only when she was certain Achilleas intended to do so; the carefully crafted item within had her gasping softly with delight.
“This is beautiful! Thank you very much. I shall wear it every day my husband is away.” The promise fell earnestly from her lips, followed by a somewhat tentative smile offered towards the princess.
The mention of Emilios and the war forgotten – for now, at least – Theodora carefully tucked her new gift to the side for safekeeping. She had meant what she said; she intended to wear the item until Achilleas returned, and she hoped he would do the same. What Xene had said had stuck with her: a way for them to remain connected no matter the distance between them. A touching sentiment, one that had her smiling softly as she returned her gaze to the full plate still set before her.
She was contemplating attempting to eat at least one thing from the dish when her uncle suddenly excused himself and rose. Before he could slip away, she would reach out to him to catch his eye before his departure. Should she manage to, she would merely murmur a soft thanks for his help that morning, and then she settled back into her seat.
Even though she was eager to have some time alone with her new husband, she certainly did not want to ask the princess to leave – though the glance between her and Fotios suggested the man intended for her to leave with him regardless. So she would wait, if only to see if she might speak openly with Achilleas about the upcoming events, or if she ought to maintain her mask a bit longer in the presence of Xene’s company.
The morning had somehow managed to be both an absolute blur, and a dragging span of time that seemed to have no end. At least, for Theodora.
She had awakened early that day to her husband’s side of the bed empty, though this had not come as much of a surprise to the young woman. He frequently slipped away long before she opened her eyes – she worried it was becoming a bit of a habit on his behalf and had pondered mentioning it once or twice. But…not today. Today they had far more important matters at hand than her questions about his early risings.
Her servants had appeared not long after; or perhaps it was one of them knocking upon her door that had woken her from her slumber. The process of readying her for the long day ahead had seemed to take hours; bathing, anointing her with oils, dressing her, brushing out her dark hair until it shone in the light that filtered through her windows – growing steadily brighter with each passing minute. Then her hair had been styled meticulously, followed by makeup that would compliment the colours of her outfit meant to match her husband’s.
And she had not had to lift a single finger.
At some point, her uncle had shown up, and though she had expected some sense of unease between them due to their shared antagonism over the past few weeks, there had been nothing of the sort to speak of. He had spent most of that time reassuring her, reminding her of the little details she was sure to overlook, all while everyone else in the room whirled around them; like she and her uncle rested in the eye of a mighty storm.
Achilleas’ appearance had been a blessing, and it had been impossible to hide her relief upon seeing him standing in the doorway of her quarters. He had taken her breath away; the blue of his clothing, the blue of his eyes, the way his face brightened and relaxed in turn as he took her in.
From there, she had not really done or said much; she had gone along quietly, interacting only when necessary, for she feared if she dared to do more than that she might crumble apart where she stood. She found herself constantly glancing at herself, to be sure her hands were not shaking as she thought they ought to be with the racing of her heart, to be sure her clothing and hair was all still in order.
Could she eat? When had they even come here to eat in the first place? She felt as though she were moving throughout the day in a daze, and she needed to find some way to clear her head before the coronation; it would not do to be in such a state while her husband received his crown! Still, she was certain she would not, could not, force down any of the food set before her; she didn’t dare, lest she find herself ill. Her stomach was in absolute knots – she couldn’t bear the idea of putting anything in it, especially not with her uncle and her husband sitting there and discussing Achilleas’ upcoming departure.
Though she did listen attentively, every nerve in her body on edge, she kept her expression clear and calm; betraying absolutely nothing, lest she fall victim to her uncle’s scrutiny. Perhaps she knew little of war, but she knew enough to know she did not want her new husband – and Taengea’s newest king – leaving for it for a month…or maybe longer. She knew very well that Achilleas had been skirting around the length of his stay in the desert, reluctant to discuss such matters with his new wife. Now, as he did the same as he spoke with Fotios, she risked a glance up at his face in enough time to catch him blinking at the other man as though the question had caught him off guard.
Perhaps it was not just her, then? Maybe he simply did not want to promise a length to the trip regardless.
Not that she could have asked with her uncle sitting right there – nor a moment after, when the Princess Xene appeared. Like the rest of the Mikaelidas family, Xene was rather beautiful, and Theo found herself admiring the shine of the sun in the girl’s golden hair a moment before allowing herself to focus on the woman’s words instead. The gift she accepted with a quiet thanks, opening it only when she was certain Achilleas intended to do so; the carefully crafted item within had her gasping softly with delight.
“This is beautiful! Thank you very much. I shall wear it every day my husband is away.” The promise fell earnestly from her lips, followed by a somewhat tentative smile offered towards the princess.
The mention of Emilios and the war forgotten – for now, at least – Theodora carefully tucked her new gift to the side for safekeeping. She had meant what she said; she intended to wear the item until Achilleas returned, and she hoped he would do the same. What Xene had said had stuck with her: a way for them to remain connected no matter the distance between them. A touching sentiment, one that had her smiling softly as she returned her gaze to the full plate still set before her.
She was contemplating attempting to eat at least one thing from the dish when her uncle suddenly excused himself and rose. Before he could slip away, she would reach out to him to catch his eye before his departure. Should she manage to, she would merely murmur a soft thanks for his help that morning, and then she settled back into her seat.
Even though she was eager to have some time alone with her new husband, she certainly did not want to ask the princess to leave – though the glance between her and Fotios suggested the man intended for her to leave with him regardless. So she would wait, if only to see if she might speak openly with Achilleas about the upcoming events, or if she ought to maintain her mask a bit longer in the presence of Xene’s company.
Heir successive. Every time those words echoed through his head, he heard warning bells along with them. He couldn't help it, he thought as he walked into the palace that day. While Nikolias couldn't help feeling a little bit of relief that maybe his son. Nikos, would stop grousing about his lot in life- at least temporarily- Nikolias himself had been trained from a young age not to think that the crown might someday land on top of his head. Perhaps it wouldn't anyway, but even so, heir successive was much closer than he'd ever dreamed of being.
He didn't like it. He would tolerate this- more for his son's sake than anything else- but didn't being heir successive instead of just a typical courtier and lord of a noble house likely mean a whole new group of people after your head? As if he didn't already feel enough like a fish out of water in the court anyway!
But here he was- because, for all his apprehension, Nikolias understood his duty. He still couldn't help thinking that maybe Irakles would have made a better choice for heir successive, had he lived. For all his faults, the man had certainly known how to comport himself. If he were given the opportunity to live two lifetimes himself, Nikolias doubted he'd be half as good.
He managed a polite nod to Fotios- well, as polite as possible, concerning their history as rivals. Not that he expected the man to see, since Nikolias was waiting to pay his respects to the new King Achilleas. Indeed, Fotios didn't seem inclined to stay much longer, at least for now.
He managed a soft, good-natured smile, too, for Princess Xene. He felt for her, as he had often at least felt like he was an outsider, especially in this room! He wouldn't have put anything past Stephanos- or any royal in general- but in his opinion, there were some things that didn't fit the theory that Stephanos had killed his father and brother. Yet, who could truly know the mind of a king, even an inexperienced king?
Actually, he might be able to ask Achilleas that question himself, now. But not today. All he knew was, he still felt like an outsider in some respects. Maybe he always would.
And just as he had this thought, Nikolias heard his name and snapped back to attention.
"Indeed, you have my defense if you should require it, your Majesty," he said with a bow.
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Heir successive. Every time those words echoed through his head, he heard warning bells along with them. He couldn't help it, he thought as he walked into the palace that day. While Nikolias couldn't help feeling a little bit of relief that maybe his son. Nikos, would stop grousing about his lot in life- at least temporarily- Nikolias himself had been trained from a young age not to think that the crown might someday land on top of his head. Perhaps it wouldn't anyway, but even so, heir successive was much closer than he'd ever dreamed of being.
He didn't like it. He would tolerate this- more for his son's sake than anything else- but didn't being heir successive instead of just a typical courtier and lord of a noble house likely mean a whole new group of people after your head? As if he didn't already feel enough like a fish out of water in the court anyway!
But here he was- because, for all his apprehension, Nikolias understood his duty. He still couldn't help thinking that maybe Irakles would have made a better choice for heir successive, had he lived. For all his faults, the man had certainly known how to comport himself. If he were given the opportunity to live two lifetimes himself, Nikolias doubted he'd be half as good.
He managed a polite nod to Fotios- well, as polite as possible, concerning their history as rivals. Not that he expected the man to see, since Nikolias was waiting to pay his respects to the new King Achilleas. Indeed, Fotios didn't seem inclined to stay much longer, at least for now.
He managed a soft, good-natured smile, too, for Princess Xene. He felt for her, as he had often at least felt like he was an outsider, especially in this room! He wouldn't have put anything past Stephanos- or any royal in general- but in his opinion, there were some things that didn't fit the theory that Stephanos had killed his father and brother. Yet, who could truly know the mind of a king, even an inexperienced king?
Actually, he might be able to ask Achilleas that question himself, now. But not today. All he knew was, he still felt like an outsider in some respects. Maybe he always would.
And just as he had this thought, Nikolias heard his name and snapped back to attention.
"Indeed, you have my defense if you should require it, your Majesty," he said with a bow.
Heir successive. Every time those words echoed through his head, he heard warning bells along with them. He couldn't help it, he thought as he walked into the palace that day. While Nikolias couldn't help feeling a little bit of relief that maybe his son. Nikos, would stop grousing about his lot in life- at least temporarily- Nikolias himself had been trained from a young age not to think that the crown might someday land on top of his head. Perhaps it wouldn't anyway, but even so, heir successive was much closer than he'd ever dreamed of being.
He didn't like it. He would tolerate this- more for his son's sake than anything else- but didn't being heir successive instead of just a typical courtier and lord of a noble house likely mean a whole new group of people after your head? As if he didn't already feel enough like a fish out of water in the court anyway!
But here he was- because, for all his apprehension, Nikolias understood his duty. He still couldn't help thinking that maybe Irakles would have made a better choice for heir successive, had he lived. For all his faults, the man had certainly known how to comport himself. If he were given the opportunity to live two lifetimes himself, Nikolias doubted he'd be half as good.
He managed a polite nod to Fotios- well, as polite as possible, concerning their history as rivals. Not that he expected the man to see, since Nikolias was waiting to pay his respects to the new King Achilleas. Indeed, Fotios didn't seem inclined to stay much longer, at least for now.
He managed a soft, good-natured smile, too, for Princess Xene. He felt for her, as he had often at least felt like he was an outsider, especially in this room! He wouldn't have put anything past Stephanos- or any royal in general- but in his opinion, there were some things that didn't fit the theory that Stephanos had killed his father and brother. Yet, who could truly know the mind of a king, even an inexperienced king?
Actually, he might be able to ask Achilleas that question himself, now. But not today. All he knew was, he still felt like an outsider in some respects. Maybe he always would.
And just as he had this thought, Nikolias heard his name and snapped back to attention.
"Indeed, you have my defense if you should require it, your Majesty," he said with a bow.
Curveball Third Place Takes Gold
At the sound of bells and horns, the select nobility who have been invited to the informal coronation of King Achilleas I are summoned to the Great Gallery where an aisle of procession divides the room in two, where his Majesty and his wife Queen Theodora will steadily walk and then kneel to receive their crowns whilst the Royal Houses line the two halves of the hall in respectful quiet over the affairs of state... Come one come all to witness the coronation of the new king...
JD
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At the sound of bells and horns, the select nobility who have been invited to the informal coronation of King Achilleas I are summoned to the Great Gallery where an aisle of procession divides the room in two, where his Majesty and his wife Queen Theodora will steadily walk and then kneel to receive their crowns whilst the Royal Houses line the two halves of the hall in respectful quiet over the affairs of state... Come one come all to witness the coronation of the new king...
Curveball Third Place Takes Gold
At the sound of bells and horns, the select nobility who have been invited to the informal coronation of King Achilleas I are summoned to the Great Gallery where an aisle of procession divides the room in two, where his Majesty and his wife Queen Theodora will steadily walk and then kneel to receive their crowns whilst the Royal Houses line the two halves of the hall in respectful quiet over the affairs of state... Come one come all to witness the coronation of the new king...
Xene could feel nothing but pleasure at the acceptance of her gifts, though she said little more by way of wishes to the couple. That much was assumed. The events of the wedding had been tragic, but here, there was little room for sadness. Only joy. Because her favored cousin was becoming King. Surely, at the cost of her own brother's crown, that fact truly stung her, but if anyone was deserving of such a title, it was Achilleas. Her gaze drifted back to Theodora when the Queen accepted the gift, the princess' own serene smile never melting off of delicately painted lips.
But it was the words of Lord Fotios that had the princess slowly trailing her gaze back to the older man. Her entire being heated at once, though she did not allow the flush to settle upon her skin. The princess, instead, gave the man a slow, accepting bow of her head, acknowleding that she understood him, though it would merely appear as if she was thankful that he had not needed a gift at all. "I am pleased that your majesties approve of my gifts. You two deserve everything and more," the princess affirmed gently before taking a few steps back in order to give the two some space.
Xene was more than grateful that Lord Fotios had decided to separate from the situation, and the princess only paused to give the King and Queen a slow bow of reverence before she caught the look in Fotios' eye. She could read a room. She did not need her lover to tell her that she should follow him, but she wanted him to tell her to follow him. While Fotios wanted the King and Queen to have a moment alone together, Xene simply wanted to find herself in the orbit of Lord Fotios. To any outside observer, the two were simply friends and confidants. It was not the first time that Xene would have found herself on the arm of a Lord. She was a courtier at heart and she enjoyed the game that came with making connections.
For this reason, she gave no rejection of the silent request, giving Achilleas and Theodora one last nod of her head before slowly trailing after Lord Fotios with enough time to catch the gaze of the now visiting Lord Nikolias. Pausing, she bowed to him as she would any other lord, "Lord Condos," Xene said delicately as both a greeting and a temporary farewell before slipping out into the antechamber. And then the two of them were alone, Xene's gaze trailing along the length of Fotios' form. Her mind slowly drifted to the thought of wine, but she was sure there would be enough of that after the crowning of Achilleas and Theodora.
"Are you so sure I could not have gotten you something as well, Lord Leventi?" the princess asked with her usual teasing lilt. They held more weight with Fotios, but the performer knew how to measure her steps. It was easy to play when no one truly noticed the difference except the players involved in the game. "I feel remiss to know that I misjudged my King and Queen's company," she added, pausing gracefully at his side.
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Xene could feel nothing but pleasure at the acceptance of her gifts, though she said little more by way of wishes to the couple. That much was assumed. The events of the wedding had been tragic, but here, there was little room for sadness. Only joy. Because her favored cousin was becoming King. Surely, at the cost of her own brother's crown, that fact truly stung her, but if anyone was deserving of such a title, it was Achilleas. Her gaze drifted back to Theodora when the Queen accepted the gift, the princess' own serene smile never melting off of delicately painted lips.
But it was the words of Lord Fotios that had the princess slowly trailing her gaze back to the older man. Her entire being heated at once, though she did not allow the flush to settle upon her skin. The princess, instead, gave the man a slow, accepting bow of her head, acknowleding that she understood him, though it would merely appear as if she was thankful that he had not needed a gift at all. "I am pleased that your majesties approve of my gifts. You two deserve everything and more," the princess affirmed gently before taking a few steps back in order to give the two some space.
Xene was more than grateful that Lord Fotios had decided to separate from the situation, and the princess only paused to give the King and Queen a slow bow of reverence before she caught the look in Fotios' eye. She could read a room. She did not need her lover to tell her that she should follow him, but she wanted him to tell her to follow him. While Fotios wanted the King and Queen to have a moment alone together, Xene simply wanted to find herself in the orbit of Lord Fotios. To any outside observer, the two were simply friends and confidants. It was not the first time that Xene would have found herself on the arm of a Lord. She was a courtier at heart and she enjoyed the game that came with making connections.
For this reason, she gave no rejection of the silent request, giving Achilleas and Theodora one last nod of her head before slowly trailing after Lord Fotios with enough time to catch the gaze of the now visiting Lord Nikolias. Pausing, she bowed to him as she would any other lord, "Lord Condos," Xene said delicately as both a greeting and a temporary farewell before slipping out into the antechamber. And then the two of them were alone, Xene's gaze trailing along the length of Fotios' form. Her mind slowly drifted to the thought of wine, but she was sure there would be enough of that after the crowning of Achilleas and Theodora.
"Are you so sure I could not have gotten you something as well, Lord Leventi?" the princess asked with her usual teasing lilt. They held more weight with Fotios, but the performer knew how to measure her steps. It was easy to play when no one truly noticed the difference except the players involved in the game. "I feel remiss to know that I misjudged my King and Queen's company," she added, pausing gracefully at his side.
Xene could feel nothing but pleasure at the acceptance of her gifts, though she said little more by way of wishes to the couple. That much was assumed. The events of the wedding had been tragic, but here, there was little room for sadness. Only joy. Because her favored cousin was becoming King. Surely, at the cost of her own brother's crown, that fact truly stung her, but if anyone was deserving of such a title, it was Achilleas. Her gaze drifted back to Theodora when the Queen accepted the gift, the princess' own serene smile never melting off of delicately painted lips.
But it was the words of Lord Fotios that had the princess slowly trailing her gaze back to the older man. Her entire being heated at once, though she did not allow the flush to settle upon her skin. The princess, instead, gave the man a slow, accepting bow of her head, acknowleding that she understood him, though it would merely appear as if she was thankful that he had not needed a gift at all. "I am pleased that your majesties approve of my gifts. You two deserve everything and more," the princess affirmed gently before taking a few steps back in order to give the two some space.
Xene was more than grateful that Lord Fotios had decided to separate from the situation, and the princess only paused to give the King and Queen a slow bow of reverence before she caught the look in Fotios' eye. She could read a room. She did not need her lover to tell her that she should follow him, but she wanted him to tell her to follow him. While Fotios wanted the King and Queen to have a moment alone together, Xene simply wanted to find herself in the orbit of Lord Fotios. To any outside observer, the two were simply friends and confidants. It was not the first time that Xene would have found herself on the arm of a Lord. She was a courtier at heart and she enjoyed the game that came with making connections.
For this reason, she gave no rejection of the silent request, giving Achilleas and Theodora one last nod of her head before slowly trailing after Lord Fotios with enough time to catch the gaze of the now visiting Lord Nikolias. Pausing, she bowed to him as she would any other lord, "Lord Condos," Xene said delicately as both a greeting and a temporary farewell before slipping out into the antechamber. And then the two of them were alone, Xene's gaze trailing along the length of Fotios' form. Her mind slowly drifted to the thought of wine, but she was sure there would be enough of that after the crowning of Achilleas and Theodora.
"Are you so sure I could not have gotten you something as well, Lord Leventi?" the princess asked with her usual teasing lilt. They held more weight with Fotios, but the performer knew how to measure her steps. It was easy to play when no one truly noticed the difference except the players involved in the game. "I feel remiss to know that I misjudged my King and Queen's company," she added, pausing gracefully at his side.
Though Achilleas might have quietly resented the additional presence during their morning meal, perhaps it was actually a good thing. Conversation with Lord Fotios kept his mind from straying too the event ahead, and his conflicted feelings over the whole affair. Conflicted? Reluctant perhaps would have been a truer description towards the Mikaelidas man’s most honest emotion pertaining to his official ascension to the throne of Taengea.
It was not fear of responsibility that stirred such a feeling: Achilleas had long been used to that, both in his role as Baron and as Commander. Responsibility was a thing he bore well. He was conscientious and careful in his decisions, his hesitation only ever due to a want to be thorough rather than being meek or cowardly. And he was honoured, truly, to fulfill such a role for Taengea and her people.
Even the whirlwind since the death of his father was not what troubled him, for it had barely begun to sink in, but what he would have been fretting about, were it not for the Leventi Lord steering conversation that drew his mind in other directions, was the very fact that the crown belonged to his cousin. Perhaps not on paper, not since that hasty rewriting of the line of succession, but in his mind, there was little doubt. Stephanos was no traitor. And so like in so many other things, Achilleas would quietly do what was expected from him, whilst pushing aside his own feelings in the matter.
He gave a nod at Fotios’ reassurance, for he thought that was its intent, that there were good men remaining who would not see Taengea fall should things take an ill turn on his own mission. And then when his cousin Xene joined them, there was yet further distraction in her sweet gesture of a gift. Achilleas watched Theodora as she opened hers and sent a tentative smile towards the Princess. He truly hoped that his cousin would be some assistance to his wife when he was away and made a mental note to speak to Xene of it before he departed. She had led from the front for long enough that she could steer Theodora in courtly matters that might have been daunting otherwise.
When both the Leventi Lord and the Princess excused themselves, Achilleas was gracious in dismissing them, secretly glad to have a little quiet before the performance element of the day commenced. He had turned toward Theodora and reached for her hand, fingers closing around hers and mouth opening to address her just when the Lord Condos was announced. It seemed peace was not to be theirs this morning, and the king closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath before raising a smile for the Condos Head of House. It did not quite reach his eyes.
“My Lord Condos,” he said, with a nod, not standing but gesturing for the man to sit if he so wished. “It is good to know there are those remaining close to home who will defend Taengea as fervently as I would.”
Which was hardly true, the younger man thought as he looked up the Condos Lord. Whilst he had always thought the Head of House to be a fair sort of man, he was not revered as one with great military prowess, and Nikos had never even been to war. The blue gaze of the Mikaelidas man rested upon the other with a little reserve, and who could blame him after the events with that pretend ‘son’ who had appeared to him before the wedding? There was no way of knowing if the older Condos knew of it, or was even involved, but it played on Achilleas’ mind now, and so he was a little guarded. It was probably a good thing then, that there were but a few scant moments to make small talk with the nobleman before Petros had appeared at the door to inform the King and Queen that they needed to make any last-minute preparations for the ceremony. The great gallery was filled with people, and perhaps the Lord Condos might like to go and take his seat now?
Rising to his feet as the other man was ushered out, in an uncharacteristically expressive moment, Achilleas rolled his eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry,” he said to Theodora in their few remaining moments before things would get underway. “I had hoped we would have a little time to ourselves at least before all this began.”
He traced the edge of her jaw with a single digit, almost afraid to touch because she was perfectly put together and smiled, though it was tight-lipped and not entirely convincing. So soon on the heels of their wedding, it was difficult not to be taken back to the day and all that gone with it. His gaze strafed hers. “Are you ready?”
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Though Achilleas might have quietly resented the additional presence during their morning meal, perhaps it was actually a good thing. Conversation with Lord Fotios kept his mind from straying too the event ahead, and his conflicted feelings over the whole affair. Conflicted? Reluctant perhaps would have been a truer description towards the Mikaelidas man’s most honest emotion pertaining to his official ascension to the throne of Taengea.
It was not fear of responsibility that stirred such a feeling: Achilleas had long been used to that, both in his role as Baron and as Commander. Responsibility was a thing he bore well. He was conscientious and careful in his decisions, his hesitation only ever due to a want to be thorough rather than being meek or cowardly. And he was honoured, truly, to fulfill such a role for Taengea and her people.
Even the whirlwind since the death of his father was not what troubled him, for it had barely begun to sink in, but what he would have been fretting about, were it not for the Leventi Lord steering conversation that drew his mind in other directions, was the very fact that the crown belonged to his cousin. Perhaps not on paper, not since that hasty rewriting of the line of succession, but in his mind, there was little doubt. Stephanos was no traitor. And so like in so many other things, Achilleas would quietly do what was expected from him, whilst pushing aside his own feelings in the matter.
He gave a nod at Fotios’ reassurance, for he thought that was its intent, that there were good men remaining who would not see Taengea fall should things take an ill turn on his own mission. And then when his cousin Xene joined them, there was yet further distraction in her sweet gesture of a gift. Achilleas watched Theodora as she opened hers and sent a tentative smile towards the Princess. He truly hoped that his cousin would be some assistance to his wife when he was away and made a mental note to speak to Xene of it before he departed. She had led from the front for long enough that she could steer Theodora in courtly matters that might have been daunting otherwise.
When both the Leventi Lord and the Princess excused themselves, Achilleas was gracious in dismissing them, secretly glad to have a little quiet before the performance element of the day commenced. He had turned toward Theodora and reached for her hand, fingers closing around hers and mouth opening to address her just when the Lord Condos was announced. It seemed peace was not to be theirs this morning, and the king closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath before raising a smile for the Condos Head of House. It did not quite reach his eyes.
“My Lord Condos,” he said, with a nod, not standing but gesturing for the man to sit if he so wished. “It is good to know there are those remaining close to home who will defend Taengea as fervently as I would.”
Which was hardly true, the younger man thought as he looked up the Condos Lord. Whilst he had always thought the Head of House to be a fair sort of man, he was not revered as one with great military prowess, and Nikos had never even been to war. The blue gaze of the Mikaelidas man rested upon the other with a little reserve, and who could blame him after the events with that pretend ‘son’ who had appeared to him before the wedding? There was no way of knowing if the older Condos knew of it, or was even involved, but it played on Achilleas’ mind now, and so he was a little guarded. It was probably a good thing then, that there were but a few scant moments to make small talk with the nobleman before Petros had appeared at the door to inform the King and Queen that they needed to make any last-minute preparations for the ceremony. The great gallery was filled with people, and perhaps the Lord Condos might like to go and take his seat now?
Rising to his feet as the other man was ushered out, in an uncharacteristically expressive moment, Achilleas rolled his eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry,” he said to Theodora in their few remaining moments before things would get underway. “I had hoped we would have a little time to ourselves at least before all this began.”
He traced the edge of her jaw with a single digit, almost afraid to touch because she was perfectly put together and smiled, though it was tight-lipped and not entirely convincing. So soon on the heels of their wedding, it was difficult not to be taken back to the day and all that gone with it. His gaze strafed hers. “Are you ready?”
Though Achilleas might have quietly resented the additional presence during their morning meal, perhaps it was actually a good thing. Conversation with Lord Fotios kept his mind from straying too the event ahead, and his conflicted feelings over the whole affair. Conflicted? Reluctant perhaps would have been a truer description towards the Mikaelidas man’s most honest emotion pertaining to his official ascension to the throne of Taengea.
It was not fear of responsibility that stirred such a feeling: Achilleas had long been used to that, both in his role as Baron and as Commander. Responsibility was a thing he bore well. He was conscientious and careful in his decisions, his hesitation only ever due to a want to be thorough rather than being meek or cowardly. And he was honoured, truly, to fulfill such a role for Taengea and her people.
Even the whirlwind since the death of his father was not what troubled him, for it had barely begun to sink in, but what he would have been fretting about, were it not for the Leventi Lord steering conversation that drew his mind in other directions, was the very fact that the crown belonged to his cousin. Perhaps not on paper, not since that hasty rewriting of the line of succession, but in his mind, there was little doubt. Stephanos was no traitor. And so like in so many other things, Achilleas would quietly do what was expected from him, whilst pushing aside his own feelings in the matter.
He gave a nod at Fotios’ reassurance, for he thought that was its intent, that there were good men remaining who would not see Taengea fall should things take an ill turn on his own mission. And then when his cousin Xene joined them, there was yet further distraction in her sweet gesture of a gift. Achilleas watched Theodora as she opened hers and sent a tentative smile towards the Princess. He truly hoped that his cousin would be some assistance to his wife when he was away and made a mental note to speak to Xene of it before he departed. She had led from the front for long enough that she could steer Theodora in courtly matters that might have been daunting otherwise.
When both the Leventi Lord and the Princess excused themselves, Achilleas was gracious in dismissing them, secretly glad to have a little quiet before the performance element of the day commenced. He had turned toward Theodora and reached for her hand, fingers closing around hers and mouth opening to address her just when the Lord Condos was announced. It seemed peace was not to be theirs this morning, and the king closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath before raising a smile for the Condos Head of House. It did not quite reach his eyes.
“My Lord Condos,” he said, with a nod, not standing but gesturing for the man to sit if he so wished. “It is good to know there are those remaining close to home who will defend Taengea as fervently as I would.”
Which was hardly true, the younger man thought as he looked up the Condos Lord. Whilst he had always thought the Head of House to be a fair sort of man, he was not revered as one with great military prowess, and Nikos had never even been to war. The blue gaze of the Mikaelidas man rested upon the other with a little reserve, and who could blame him after the events with that pretend ‘son’ who had appeared to him before the wedding? There was no way of knowing if the older Condos knew of it, or was even involved, but it played on Achilleas’ mind now, and so he was a little guarded. It was probably a good thing then, that there were but a few scant moments to make small talk with the nobleman before Petros had appeared at the door to inform the King and Queen that they needed to make any last-minute preparations for the ceremony. The great gallery was filled with people, and perhaps the Lord Condos might like to go and take his seat now?
Rising to his feet as the other man was ushered out, in an uncharacteristically expressive moment, Achilleas rolled his eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry,” he said to Theodora in their few remaining moments before things would get underway. “I had hoped we would have a little time to ourselves at least before all this began.”
He traced the edge of her jaw with a single digit, almost afraid to touch because she was perfectly put together and smiled, though it was tight-lipped and not entirely convincing. So soon on the heels of their wedding, it was difficult not to be taken back to the day and all that gone with it. His gaze strafed hers. “Are you ready?”
Looking to the Princess Xene as the two of them left the main chambers of the royal quarters in each other’s company, his stare seemed all the more potent from the deliberate inches he had left between them. Never stepped in a manner that took him into the personal space of the princess and only ever touching her in a manner that was befitting of a courtier's escort of the most available male, it was the dichotomy of the physical and the messages sent by his eyes that was the temptation. Never once did he seem to act on the interest that only she would read in his features. Making it feel all the more a forbidden exchange.
This particular look was one of amusement. Patronising only in the way a loved one can be without causing offense. A sort of affectionate reproach for the way in which the princess continued the subtlety despite the two of them being the only individuals in the room.
His lips parting on an exhale of acceptance over her little game, the tip of his tongue wetting the seam between them, one of Fotios' brows rose in consideration.
"If your contrition causes you so much disconcertion, princess, I'm sure I can think of a manner in which you could redress any deficit."
The words were calmly spoken but hinted at volumes of depth beneath as Fotios offered an arm in a respectable manner befitting that of his station and of hers.
"But perhaps such things are left for later times..." He added, making it clear that his offer to escort her was not to some scandalous moment of intimacy but a more public affair. "...for now, we must welcome a King, I think."
And upon her acceptance of his touch, Fotios was happy to guide the two of them to the Great Gallery of the royal palati. It was there that they would be forced to part ways and his wife and family would be waiting for him. Yet, given that the princess was otherwise along in her passage down the corridors, Fotios's actions would have been considered rude if he did not at least offer her an arm. So, whilst the connection they now made was significant to themselves, it would mean little to those who were not aware of the deeper and more private relationship between the two of them...
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Looking to the Princess Xene as the two of them left the main chambers of the royal quarters in each other’s company, his stare seemed all the more potent from the deliberate inches he had left between them. Never stepped in a manner that took him into the personal space of the princess and only ever touching her in a manner that was befitting of a courtier's escort of the most available male, it was the dichotomy of the physical and the messages sent by his eyes that was the temptation. Never once did he seem to act on the interest that only she would read in his features. Making it feel all the more a forbidden exchange.
This particular look was one of amusement. Patronising only in the way a loved one can be without causing offense. A sort of affectionate reproach for the way in which the princess continued the subtlety despite the two of them being the only individuals in the room.
His lips parting on an exhale of acceptance over her little game, the tip of his tongue wetting the seam between them, one of Fotios' brows rose in consideration.
"If your contrition causes you so much disconcertion, princess, I'm sure I can think of a manner in which you could redress any deficit."
The words were calmly spoken but hinted at volumes of depth beneath as Fotios offered an arm in a respectable manner befitting that of his station and of hers.
"But perhaps such things are left for later times..." He added, making it clear that his offer to escort her was not to some scandalous moment of intimacy but a more public affair. "...for now, we must welcome a King, I think."
And upon her acceptance of his touch, Fotios was happy to guide the two of them to the Great Gallery of the royal palati. It was there that they would be forced to part ways and his wife and family would be waiting for him. Yet, given that the princess was otherwise along in her passage down the corridors, Fotios's actions would have been considered rude if he did not at least offer her an arm. So, whilst the connection they now made was significant to themselves, it would mean little to those who were not aware of the deeper and more private relationship between the two of them...
Looking to the Princess Xene as the two of them left the main chambers of the royal quarters in each other’s company, his stare seemed all the more potent from the deliberate inches he had left between them. Never stepped in a manner that took him into the personal space of the princess and only ever touching her in a manner that was befitting of a courtier's escort of the most available male, it was the dichotomy of the physical and the messages sent by his eyes that was the temptation. Never once did he seem to act on the interest that only she would read in his features. Making it feel all the more a forbidden exchange.
This particular look was one of amusement. Patronising only in the way a loved one can be without causing offense. A sort of affectionate reproach for the way in which the princess continued the subtlety despite the two of them being the only individuals in the room.
His lips parting on an exhale of acceptance over her little game, the tip of his tongue wetting the seam between them, one of Fotios' brows rose in consideration.
"If your contrition causes you so much disconcertion, princess, I'm sure I can think of a manner in which you could redress any deficit."
The words were calmly spoken but hinted at volumes of depth beneath as Fotios offered an arm in a respectable manner befitting that of his station and of hers.
"But perhaps such things are left for later times..." He added, making it clear that his offer to escort her was not to some scandalous moment of intimacy but a more public affair. "...for now, we must welcome a King, I think."
And upon her acceptance of his touch, Fotios was happy to guide the two of them to the Great Gallery of the royal palati. It was there that they would be forced to part ways and his wife and family would be waiting for him. Yet, given that the princess was otherwise along in her passage down the corridors, Fotios's actions would have been considered rude if he did not at least offer her an arm. So, whilst the connection they now made was significant to themselves, it would mean little to those who were not aware of the deeper and more private relationship between the two of them...
Nikolias knew that despite his cordial enough words, Achilleas was likely fooling nobody, at least not where he was concerned. Most if not all of the nobles knew that before this, his house hadn't really been anything special, despite being so close to royalty for so long. And while Nikolias had to agree, in theory, at least, that he would defend Taengea as well as he could, what did that mean for a man who couldn't stand the sight of blood...well, not human blood. Animals were another story; at least you could eat them, whereas war just seemed like a waste of time and money to the Condos lord. Though he had heard tales that places existed where cannibalism was common, even encouraged as a way to bring luck and strength in war...but best not to think about that!
He nodded, though, understanding at least in part why the new king's smile did not reach his eyes. Nikolias himself had had nothing to do with that whole charade, and he wondered, privately, if Irakles might not have been a better choice for a victim of such a prank, had he been alive. He knew if he'd been told he had another child this late in life, it would have come as quite a shock. And anyway, now that Achilleas was crowned, wouldn't an illegitimate child of his be more likely to show up now?
Even though he had been none too pleased with Nikos, he thought that telling the king that would probably not help his cause; rightly or no, everybody was suspected of something sometimes, it seemed.
Nikolias did wish there were some way he could restore some honor to House Condos, though. He had promised his father long ago that he'd try to bring glory to their house, but so far didn't seem any closer to accomplishing that goal the older he got. And the fact that he was currently heir successive was probably at least somewhat due to chance, not his earning the position on his own merit.
Would he ever be more than a man whom others saw as honorable but more than a little strange? He thought not, but to say one doubted oneself almost seemed like saying that one was not really Greek. He bowed politely to the king again and went to take his seat among the other nobles.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Nikolias knew that despite his cordial enough words, Achilleas was likely fooling nobody, at least not where he was concerned. Most if not all of the nobles knew that before this, his house hadn't really been anything special, despite being so close to royalty for so long. And while Nikolias had to agree, in theory, at least, that he would defend Taengea as well as he could, what did that mean for a man who couldn't stand the sight of blood...well, not human blood. Animals were another story; at least you could eat them, whereas war just seemed like a waste of time and money to the Condos lord. Though he had heard tales that places existed where cannibalism was common, even encouraged as a way to bring luck and strength in war...but best not to think about that!
He nodded, though, understanding at least in part why the new king's smile did not reach his eyes. Nikolias himself had had nothing to do with that whole charade, and he wondered, privately, if Irakles might not have been a better choice for a victim of such a prank, had he been alive. He knew if he'd been told he had another child this late in life, it would have come as quite a shock. And anyway, now that Achilleas was crowned, wouldn't an illegitimate child of his be more likely to show up now?
Even though he had been none too pleased with Nikos, he thought that telling the king that would probably not help his cause; rightly or no, everybody was suspected of something sometimes, it seemed.
Nikolias did wish there were some way he could restore some honor to House Condos, though. He had promised his father long ago that he'd try to bring glory to their house, but so far didn't seem any closer to accomplishing that goal the older he got. And the fact that he was currently heir successive was probably at least somewhat due to chance, not his earning the position on his own merit.
Would he ever be more than a man whom others saw as honorable but more than a little strange? He thought not, but to say one doubted oneself almost seemed like saying that one was not really Greek. He bowed politely to the king again and went to take his seat among the other nobles.
Nikolias knew that despite his cordial enough words, Achilleas was likely fooling nobody, at least not where he was concerned. Most if not all of the nobles knew that before this, his house hadn't really been anything special, despite being so close to royalty for so long. And while Nikolias had to agree, in theory, at least, that he would defend Taengea as well as he could, what did that mean for a man who couldn't stand the sight of blood...well, not human blood. Animals were another story; at least you could eat them, whereas war just seemed like a waste of time and money to the Condos lord. Though he had heard tales that places existed where cannibalism was common, even encouraged as a way to bring luck and strength in war...but best not to think about that!
He nodded, though, understanding at least in part why the new king's smile did not reach his eyes. Nikolias himself had had nothing to do with that whole charade, and he wondered, privately, if Irakles might not have been a better choice for a victim of such a prank, had he been alive. He knew if he'd been told he had another child this late in life, it would have come as quite a shock. And anyway, now that Achilleas was crowned, wouldn't an illegitimate child of his be more likely to show up now?
Even though he had been none too pleased with Nikos, he thought that telling the king that would probably not help his cause; rightly or no, everybody was suspected of something sometimes, it seemed.
Nikolias did wish there were some way he could restore some honor to House Condos, though. He had promised his father long ago that he'd try to bring glory to their house, but so far didn't seem any closer to accomplishing that goal the older he got. And the fact that he was currently heir successive was probably at least somewhat due to chance, not his earning the position on his own merit.
Would he ever be more than a man whom others saw as honorable but more than a little strange? He thought not, but to say one doubted oneself almost seemed like saying that one was not really Greek. He bowed politely to the king again and went to take his seat among the other nobles.