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Whilst one of the things Demetrius had brought back with him from Vasiliadon had been the sole focus of Persephone life and existence for the last few days, it wasn't the only thing he had brought into her life.
Along with the letter that confirmed her sister to be alive, her House not yet extinguished from existence and her family not completely removed from her world, Demetrius had also brought back to the Dimitrou estate an individual of red hair and large eyes.
Whilst Persephone had - she had to admit - basically ignored the presence of the girl until now, it was upon the boat that would take them to Athenia that she was determined to rectify the matter.
Back in Taengea, Persephone had thought little of Olena's addition to their group. She had said nothing about whether or not the woman would join them, making no invitation that she should come along and no rebukes when she had boarded the ship, seemingly fused to Demetrius' side in the hopes of not being noticed.
Persephone had not intended to make the woman feel like a stowaway but, at the time, she had had more pressing concerns to attend to. Like her departure from the Dimitrou clan, her plans for arrival in Athenia and her own personal feelings to discover that someone she loved was indeed alive and waiting for her to come rescue her.
Wrestling with her guilt over leaving her sister and trying to cement the necessary plans to leave within forty-eight hours of receiving the letter from Aimias had taken all of her attention.
But now, they were on their way. At sea, and able to look towards the future in which they had approximately six days before they would reach her homeland. Six days that she couldn't spend the entire time bent over the edge of the ship and depositing her breakfast into the waves. Six days that she should probably utilise in getting to know those who travelled with her and building some trust. For trust, she was certain, would be in short supply back in Athenia.
As such, it was upon the second day of their journey, that Persephone had sent a deckhand to fetch Olena and bring her to the front of the ship, where Persephone had found herself able to stand without too much nausea. It was time to meet the little redhead and learn this new connection in her life...
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Whilst one of the things Demetrius had brought back with him from Vasiliadon had been the sole focus of Persephone life and existence for the last few days, it wasn't the only thing he had brought into her life.
Along with the letter that confirmed her sister to be alive, her House not yet extinguished from existence and her family not completely removed from her world, Demetrius had also brought back to the Dimitrou estate an individual of red hair and large eyes.
Whilst Persephone had - she had to admit - basically ignored the presence of the girl until now, it was upon the boat that would take them to Athenia that she was determined to rectify the matter.
Back in Taengea, Persephone had thought little of Olena's addition to their group. She had said nothing about whether or not the woman would join them, making no invitation that she should come along and no rebukes when she had boarded the ship, seemingly fused to Demetrius' side in the hopes of not being noticed.
Persephone had not intended to make the woman feel like a stowaway but, at the time, she had had more pressing concerns to attend to. Like her departure from the Dimitrou clan, her plans for arrival in Athenia and her own personal feelings to discover that someone she loved was indeed alive and waiting for her to come rescue her.
Wrestling with her guilt over leaving her sister and trying to cement the necessary plans to leave within forty-eight hours of receiving the letter from Aimias had taken all of her attention.
But now, they were on their way. At sea, and able to look towards the future in which they had approximately six days before they would reach her homeland. Six days that she couldn't spend the entire time bent over the edge of the ship and depositing her breakfast into the waves. Six days that she should probably utilise in getting to know those who travelled with her and building some trust. For trust, she was certain, would be in short supply back in Athenia.
As such, it was upon the second day of their journey, that Persephone had sent a deckhand to fetch Olena and bring her to the front of the ship, where Persephone had found herself able to stand without too much nausea. It was time to meet the little redhead and learn this new connection in her life...
Whilst one of the things Demetrius had brought back with him from Vasiliadon had been the sole focus of Persephone life and existence for the last few days, it wasn't the only thing he had brought into her life.
Along with the letter that confirmed her sister to be alive, her House not yet extinguished from existence and her family not completely removed from her world, Demetrius had also brought back to the Dimitrou estate an individual of red hair and large eyes.
Whilst Persephone had - she had to admit - basically ignored the presence of the girl until now, it was upon the boat that would take them to Athenia that she was determined to rectify the matter.
Back in Taengea, Persephone had thought little of Olena's addition to their group. She had said nothing about whether or not the woman would join them, making no invitation that she should come along and no rebukes when she had boarded the ship, seemingly fused to Demetrius' side in the hopes of not being noticed.
Persephone had not intended to make the woman feel like a stowaway but, at the time, she had had more pressing concerns to attend to. Like her departure from the Dimitrou clan, her plans for arrival in Athenia and her own personal feelings to discover that someone she loved was indeed alive and waiting for her to come rescue her.
Wrestling with her guilt over leaving her sister and trying to cement the necessary plans to leave within forty-eight hours of receiving the letter from Aimias had taken all of her attention.
But now, they were on their way. At sea, and able to look towards the future in which they had approximately six days before they would reach her homeland. Six days that she couldn't spend the entire time bent over the edge of the ship and depositing her breakfast into the waves. Six days that she should probably utilise in getting to know those who travelled with her and building some trust. For trust, she was certain, would be in short supply back in Athenia.
As such, it was upon the second day of their journey, that Persephone had sent a deckhand to fetch Olena and bring her to the front of the ship, where Persephone had found herself able to stand without too much nausea. It was time to meet the little redhead and learn this new connection in her life...
Olena tried her best to hide herself from scrutiny, wishing to be overlooked as much as possible. While Dima had promised her that she would not leave his side again, that didn’t do anything to lessen the fear in the pit of her stomach. The only thing that seemed to help was being with him as his shadow. And he didn’t seem to mind that she was constantly at his side, always within view of the man she had lost a decade earlier. Any time the Queen or her man were close, she would press herself into Dima, praying that they didn’t rip her from him and send her back to where she came from.
But it didn’t happen. When the fear was mostly gone, she was able to let herself go and simply appreciate being alone and safe with the love of her life again. She found it easy to relax when they were alone, sobering up enough to make jokes with him, no longer wanting the poppy to erase him from her mind. No, she wanted everything firmly in place, each memory precious and happy. It had been a long time since she had laughed in the bed of a man, but she and Dima would dissolve into laughter.
She felt no shame in how often they had come together, rediscovering the other’s body just like they had done in their youth. There was far too much joy in the relearning of him, and she found that his touch had a more profound effect than any man she had ever been with. He worshiped her, and she did her best to do so in kind a half a dozen times since reuniting. The two mostly spoke in their native tongue when together, which afforded them quite a bit of privacy in the open. She was happy, for the first time since Vera’s death. And she felt little to no shame for it.
None of their companions knew what a struggle it had been to get her on a boat in the first place. Boats has always been a place of torture for her. When she was taken from Dima, she had been raped by a man she later learned had been called Lukos. And only days later, she had been sold and raped repeatedly to make her more viable for a brothel. The last ship she’d been on had all but sank in the ocean by the wrath of Poseidon-- it was no wonder that Dima had chosen to drug her and carry her onto the ship instead of her screaming like a banshee. She had recovered, only able to stand the motion of the waters by pressing herself to his side.
So when the knock on their door broke through the silence of their morning, Olena panicked a bit. It took a bit for Dima to reassure her that nothing was going to happen, that the Queen was kind and would treat her fairly before she dressed in her only chiton and left Dima to rest within the comforts of their haven.
She was braiding her hair as she made her way to the front of the ship, using a tie to secure it over her shoulder as the girl came into view. For that was what she was-- a girl in Queen’s clothing. Beautiful and exotic looking, Olena couldn’t help but think how rich she could be simply selling her body. Men would certainly pay to have her, and would be repeat customers. But, no longer in the business of finding whores, the redhead simply stepped up to the rail of the ship, needing to grip onto its edge for sanity, just a foot or two away from the girl.
“You wanted to see me?” She asked cautiously, unsure exactly what she wanted from the former whore.
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Olena tried her best to hide herself from scrutiny, wishing to be overlooked as much as possible. While Dima had promised her that she would not leave his side again, that didn’t do anything to lessen the fear in the pit of her stomach. The only thing that seemed to help was being with him as his shadow. And he didn’t seem to mind that she was constantly at his side, always within view of the man she had lost a decade earlier. Any time the Queen or her man were close, she would press herself into Dima, praying that they didn’t rip her from him and send her back to where she came from.
But it didn’t happen. When the fear was mostly gone, she was able to let herself go and simply appreciate being alone and safe with the love of her life again. She found it easy to relax when they were alone, sobering up enough to make jokes with him, no longer wanting the poppy to erase him from her mind. No, she wanted everything firmly in place, each memory precious and happy. It had been a long time since she had laughed in the bed of a man, but she and Dima would dissolve into laughter.
She felt no shame in how often they had come together, rediscovering the other’s body just like they had done in their youth. There was far too much joy in the relearning of him, and she found that his touch had a more profound effect than any man she had ever been with. He worshiped her, and she did her best to do so in kind a half a dozen times since reuniting. The two mostly spoke in their native tongue when together, which afforded them quite a bit of privacy in the open. She was happy, for the first time since Vera’s death. And she felt little to no shame for it.
None of their companions knew what a struggle it had been to get her on a boat in the first place. Boats has always been a place of torture for her. When she was taken from Dima, she had been raped by a man she later learned had been called Lukos. And only days later, she had been sold and raped repeatedly to make her more viable for a brothel. The last ship she’d been on had all but sank in the ocean by the wrath of Poseidon-- it was no wonder that Dima had chosen to drug her and carry her onto the ship instead of her screaming like a banshee. She had recovered, only able to stand the motion of the waters by pressing herself to his side.
So when the knock on their door broke through the silence of their morning, Olena panicked a bit. It took a bit for Dima to reassure her that nothing was going to happen, that the Queen was kind and would treat her fairly before she dressed in her only chiton and left Dima to rest within the comforts of their haven.
She was braiding her hair as she made her way to the front of the ship, using a tie to secure it over her shoulder as the girl came into view. For that was what she was-- a girl in Queen’s clothing. Beautiful and exotic looking, Olena couldn’t help but think how rich she could be simply selling her body. Men would certainly pay to have her, and would be repeat customers. But, no longer in the business of finding whores, the redhead simply stepped up to the rail of the ship, needing to grip onto its edge for sanity, just a foot or two away from the girl.
“You wanted to see me?” She asked cautiously, unsure exactly what she wanted from the former whore.
Olena tried her best to hide herself from scrutiny, wishing to be overlooked as much as possible. While Dima had promised her that she would not leave his side again, that didn’t do anything to lessen the fear in the pit of her stomach. The only thing that seemed to help was being with him as his shadow. And he didn’t seem to mind that she was constantly at his side, always within view of the man she had lost a decade earlier. Any time the Queen or her man were close, she would press herself into Dima, praying that they didn’t rip her from him and send her back to where she came from.
But it didn’t happen. When the fear was mostly gone, she was able to let herself go and simply appreciate being alone and safe with the love of her life again. She found it easy to relax when they were alone, sobering up enough to make jokes with him, no longer wanting the poppy to erase him from her mind. No, she wanted everything firmly in place, each memory precious and happy. It had been a long time since she had laughed in the bed of a man, but she and Dima would dissolve into laughter.
She felt no shame in how often they had come together, rediscovering the other’s body just like they had done in their youth. There was far too much joy in the relearning of him, and she found that his touch had a more profound effect than any man she had ever been with. He worshiped her, and she did her best to do so in kind a half a dozen times since reuniting. The two mostly spoke in their native tongue when together, which afforded them quite a bit of privacy in the open. She was happy, for the first time since Vera’s death. And she felt little to no shame for it.
None of their companions knew what a struggle it had been to get her on a boat in the first place. Boats has always been a place of torture for her. When she was taken from Dima, she had been raped by a man she later learned had been called Lukos. And only days later, she had been sold and raped repeatedly to make her more viable for a brothel. The last ship she’d been on had all but sank in the ocean by the wrath of Poseidon-- it was no wonder that Dima had chosen to drug her and carry her onto the ship instead of her screaming like a banshee. She had recovered, only able to stand the motion of the waters by pressing herself to his side.
So when the knock on their door broke through the silence of their morning, Olena panicked a bit. It took a bit for Dima to reassure her that nothing was going to happen, that the Queen was kind and would treat her fairly before she dressed in her only chiton and left Dima to rest within the comforts of their haven.
She was braiding her hair as she made her way to the front of the ship, using a tie to secure it over her shoulder as the girl came into view. For that was what she was-- a girl in Queen’s clothing. Beautiful and exotic looking, Olena couldn’t help but think how rich she could be simply selling her body. Men would certainly pay to have her, and would be repeat customers. But, no longer in the business of finding whores, the redhead simply stepped up to the rail of the ship, needing to grip onto its edge for sanity, just a foot or two away from the girl.
“You wanted to see me?” She asked cautiously, unsure exactly what she wanted from the former whore.
Persephone wasn't entirely certain why she had summoned the girl. In the specificity of it at least. The girl was travelling with them, she needed to know more of her, understand her and decide what was to happen to her in the near future, provided it met with her own desires. This was everything that she knew. And when she had been a Princess and then Queen in her homeland, she would have never needed to perform such duties, with no-one ever allowed near her closest circle without being long term associates of hers. It was a situation that was new and foreign to her; needing to vet and establish a connection with someone without the third party of a servant or lady's maid to initiate it.
Whilst Chrysanthe had determined that she wished to journey with Persephone and learn to tend to her as a lady's maid, she was progressing herself within the role and Persephone could not yet trust her judgment in the ways she had not yet learnt. As such, the duty fell to Persephone herself to speak with the girl known as Olena and discover who she might be to them now and in the future.
And yet... the specifics of the meeting had not been formulated yet in her mind when the redhead joined her at the front of the ship.
Turning to look upon the girl whose features were pretty in a foreign sort of way but too wide to be considered truly beautiful by Athenian standards, Persephone's gaze trailed upon her figure and fell to the first query that came to mind.
"Is that the only gown you own?" She asked the girl, having never seen her wearing anything else.
It was hardly a significant question given the answers she was actually wanting from the girl, but Persephone's natural dignity and stance of authority learnt to her words a sense of power that made them appear fully intentional.
"You are Olena, are you not?" She asked a second question before a reply could be given to the first, in order to confirm the identity of the girl she had never spoken to directly - only seen as a shadow to Demetrius. She then waited on an answer to both queries, folding her hands demurely over her pelvis and showing no reaction to the rocking of the boat and the wind of the sea, despite her chiton and hair blowing in its breeze...
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Persephone wasn't entirely certain why she had summoned the girl. In the specificity of it at least. The girl was travelling with them, she needed to know more of her, understand her and decide what was to happen to her in the near future, provided it met with her own desires. This was everything that she knew. And when she had been a Princess and then Queen in her homeland, she would have never needed to perform such duties, with no-one ever allowed near her closest circle without being long term associates of hers. It was a situation that was new and foreign to her; needing to vet and establish a connection with someone without the third party of a servant or lady's maid to initiate it.
Whilst Chrysanthe had determined that she wished to journey with Persephone and learn to tend to her as a lady's maid, she was progressing herself within the role and Persephone could not yet trust her judgment in the ways she had not yet learnt. As such, the duty fell to Persephone herself to speak with the girl known as Olena and discover who she might be to them now and in the future.
And yet... the specifics of the meeting had not been formulated yet in her mind when the redhead joined her at the front of the ship.
Turning to look upon the girl whose features were pretty in a foreign sort of way but too wide to be considered truly beautiful by Athenian standards, Persephone's gaze trailed upon her figure and fell to the first query that came to mind.
"Is that the only gown you own?" She asked the girl, having never seen her wearing anything else.
It was hardly a significant question given the answers she was actually wanting from the girl, but Persephone's natural dignity and stance of authority learnt to her words a sense of power that made them appear fully intentional.
"You are Olena, are you not?" She asked a second question before a reply could be given to the first, in order to confirm the identity of the girl she had never spoken to directly - only seen as a shadow to Demetrius. She then waited on an answer to both queries, folding her hands demurely over her pelvis and showing no reaction to the rocking of the boat and the wind of the sea, despite her chiton and hair blowing in its breeze...
Persephone wasn't entirely certain why she had summoned the girl. In the specificity of it at least. The girl was travelling with them, she needed to know more of her, understand her and decide what was to happen to her in the near future, provided it met with her own desires. This was everything that she knew. And when she had been a Princess and then Queen in her homeland, she would have never needed to perform such duties, with no-one ever allowed near her closest circle without being long term associates of hers. It was a situation that was new and foreign to her; needing to vet and establish a connection with someone without the third party of a servant or lady's maid to initiate it.
Whilst Chrysanthe had determined that she wished to journey with Persephone and learn to tend to her as a lady's maid, she was progressing herself within the role and Persephone could not yet trust her judgment in the ways she had not yet learnt. As such, the duty fell to Persephone herself to speak with the girl known as Olena and discover who she might be to them now and in the future.
And yet... the specifics of the meeting had not been formulated yet in her mind when the redhead joined her at the front of the ship.
Turning to look upon the girl whose features were pretty in a foreign sort of way but too wide to be considered truly beautiful by Athenian standards, Persephone's gaze trailed upon her figure and fell to the first query that came to mind.
"Is that the only gown you own?" She asked the girl, having never seen her wearing anything else.
It was hardly a significant question given the answers she was actually wanting from the girl, but Persephone's natural dignity and stance of authority learnt to her words a sense of power that made them appear fully intentional.
"You are Olena, are you not?" She asked a second question before a reply could be given to the first, in order to confirm the identity of the girl she had never spoken to directly - only seen as a shadow to Demetrius. She then waited on an answer to both queries, folding her hands demurely over her pelvis and showing no reaction to the rocking of the boat and the wind of the sea, despite her chiton and hair blowing in its breeze...
The Queen was not the only one who was confused about her purpose there. Olena couldn’t really imagine why she would take any interest in the girl who Demetrius had brought with. Maybe she was just curious about her, and what her intentions were. The young Queen was most likely just trying to figure out who she was, since it seemed as if there was little else to do on the ship.
That didn’t mean that Olena was happy about it.
Olena hadn’t gotten much of a chance to see the Queen up close, but at the girl turned to greet her, it was easy to see just how beautiful she was. It was hard to not look at her, to judge her based on how she would do in a brothel. Good bone structure, with an exotic look to her dark features. She would have done well as a whore, but instead the Gods had made her a Queen. If only she had been so lucky.
Although her initial comment didn’t seem very royal.
Looking down at the drab but clean dress, Olena tried not to feel insulted by her comment. It was not a very appealing color against her skin, but it was better than the tatters Dima had found her in almost a week ago. ”One of the maids of the Dimitriou house gifted it to me. I do not own anything else.” The leather bracelet, woven by Dima when they were children, was the only other possession she had. Her shoulders lifted into a shrug, ”I cannot help that.”
She continued on, asking her name as if she didn’t know it. ”I am. Dima tells me you are a Queen in this country.” Her accent had mellowed out with her time in Greece, but it was still very apparent that she was foreign. ”You will have to forgive my lack of social grace-- whores do not often meet Queens.” There was no reason for her to hide her former profession. ”I hope that does not offend.” Where most would have looked sheepish about the statement, Olena’s chin angled upward, as if asking Persephone to challenge her. ”Though, that life is in the past now that I have Dima.”
Her heart warmed at the thought of the man below, a man who had spent his entire adult life looking for her. And finally, after all the heartbreak and torture, they were back together again. Something she never thought would happen. She still pinched herself every morning to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming. But it seemed as if their lives were still in the hands of others, and Olena wasn’t quite sure what that would mean for her and Dima.
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The Queen was not the only one who was confused about her purpose there. Olena couldn’t really imagine why she would take any interest in the girl who Demetrius had brought with. Maybe she was just curious about her, and what her intentions were. The young Queen was most likely just trying to figure out who she was, since it seemed as if there was little else to do on the ship.
That didn’t mean that Olena was happy about it.
Olena hadn’t gotten much of a chance to see the Queen up close, but at the girl turned to greet her, it was easy to see just how beautiful she was. It was hard to not look at her, to judge her based on how she would do in a brothel. Good bone structure, with an exotic look to her dark features. She would have done well as a whore, but instead the Gods had made her a Queen. If only she had been so lucky.
Although her initial comment didn’t seem very royal.
Looking down at the drab but clean dress, Olena tried not to feel insulted by her comment. It was not a very appealing color against her skin, but it was better than the tatters Dima had found her in almost a week ago. ”One of the maids of the Dimitriou house gifted it to me. I do not own anything else.” The leather bracelet, woven by Dima when they were children, was the only other possession she had. Her shoulders lifted into a shrug, ”I cannot help that.”
She continued on, asking her name as if she didn’t know it. ”I am. Dima tells me you are a Queen in this country.” Her accent had mellowed out with her time in Greece, but it was still very apparent that she was foreign. ”You will have to forgive my lack of social grace-- whores do not often meet Queens.” There was no reason for her to hide her former profession. ”I hope that does not offend.” Where most would have looked sheepish about the statement, Olena’s chin angled upward, as if asking Persephone to challenge her. ”Though, that life is in the past now that I have Dima.”
Her heart warmed at the thought of the man below, a man who had spent his entire adult life looking for her. And finally, after all the heartbreak and torture, they were back together again. Something she never thought would happen. She still pinched herself every morning to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming. But it seemed as if their lives were still in the hands of others, and Olena wasn’t quite sure what that would mean for her and Dima.
The Queen was not the only one who was confused about her purpose there. Olena couldn’t really imagine why she would take any interest in the girl who Demetrius had brought with. Maybe she was just curious about her, and what her intentions were. The young Queen was most likely just trying to figure out who she was, since it seemed as if there was little else to do on the ship.
That didn’t mean that Olena was happy about it.
Olena hadn’t gotten much of a chance to see the Queen up close, but at the girl turned to greet her, it was easy to see just how beautiful she was. It was hard to not look at her, to judge her based on how she would do in a brothel. Good bone structure, with an exotic look to her dark features. She would have done well as a whore, but instead the Gods had made her a Queen. If only she had been so lucky.
Although her initial comment didn’t seem very royal.
Looking down at the drab but clean dress, Olena tried not to feel insulted by her comment. It was not a very appealing color against her skin, but it was better than the tatters Dima had found her in almost a week ago. ”One of the maids of the Dimitriou house gifted it to me. I do not own anything else.” The leather bracelet, woven by Dima when they were children, was the only other possession she had. Her shoulders lifted into a shrug, ”I cannot help that.”
She continued on, asking her name as if she didn’t know it. ”I am. Dima tells me you are a Queen in this country.” Her accent had mellowed out with her time in Greece, but it was still very apparent that she was foreign. ”You will have to forgive my lack of social grace-- whores do not often meet Queens.” There was no reason for her to hide her former profession. ”I hope that does not offend.” Where most would have looked sheepish about the statement, Olena’s chin angled upward, as if asking Persephone to challenge her. ”Though, that life is in the past now that I have Dima.”
Her heart warmed at the thought of the man below, a man who had spent his entire adult life looking for her. And finally, after all the heartbreak and torture, they were back together again. Something she never thought would happen. She still pinched herself every morning to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming. But it seemed as if their lives were still in the hands of others, and Olena wasn’t quite sure what that would mean for her and Dima.
Persephone had no idea what to make of the girl before her. She had never met a woman of her... background before. And she had certainly never had to handle her in direct one-on-one conversation before. Not that she felt that someone of her... profession, should be considered as anything less than another trader or merchant.
Whilst she had been born royal, it was the lesson her father had taught her over and again that a King or a Queen was a job as much as it was a privilege. It was not the trophy to be earnt by the task that could produce the trophy of self-worth and satisfaction. To rule was to perform a role in service to others. It was no better or worse than any other such as a merchant, a trader or even, if one was generous with their definitions... a whore.
The only difference was that a monarch had to choose to perform their service in the efforts of helping others. It was often that those who performed other such roles were forced into it as a means to survive. It was why, according to her mother, so many of the ruling classes turned selfish - for they were not forced to work at the threat of suffrage. Instead, they were expected to choose the harder path for the sake of others. A rarity that was worth its uniqueness.
On the flipside of this, Persephone found it hard to squash down her distaste for Olena's admitted profession. Only recently had she been brave enough to share her body with another and that had been solely with the man whom she was to marry. She could not imagine going through such an intimate and... in many ways... scary experience with someone she did not whole heartedly trust - let alone a stranger. The idea that this woman had managed to do so set her apart in Persephone's mind as someone she might struggle to understand...
Then again... she had few whom she might call friend now. And she could do worse than a woman whom - as she understood it - had loved unconditionally and held faith in a man for so long without hope. Whilst she might have given her body to others, her loyalty of heart - however confusing that juxtaposition was to Persephone - was a trait she could at least find admiration for.
Swallowing when she realised that her question had offended the girl and chastising herself internally for her lack of careful social etiquette, Persephone gave herself a mental shake. Simply because this girl was low born didn't mean that she deserved to be spoken to in such a manner.
Raising a hand to her collarbone, Persephone shook her head softly, the lengths of her hair that hung loose around her face, rough and a little wavy from the sea salt, swaying to hit her in either cheek.
"I did not mean to offend." She told the girl, the fingers of her other hand plucking at the soft and expensive gown that she herself wore beneath the cloak she wore for warmth against the sea spray. "I only wished to know if you required something more." She offered, turning her tone softer and - she hoped - kinder.
Putting aside any offense that the young girl clearly didn't mean by her entire lack of etiquette in curtseys or gestures of respect to a Queen, Persephone felt the girl's assessment of her seem almost undercutting. As if her status as Queen was mere nothing - a simple statement of casual reference made by a brothel girl who saw her as nothing more than a body and a person.
It was humbling to say the least.
When the girl spoke of how her life selling her body was now over thanks to her reunion with Dima, Persephone felt her lips curl a little in a sympathetic joy. There was something about the girl that was so pure in her emotions that it was almost contagious to watch.
"What are your plans together once we reach Athenia?" She asked the girl, her eyes turning curious and her figure straight and true - the carriage of a royal.
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Persephone had no idea what to make of the girl before her. She had never met a woman of her... background before. And she had certainly never had to handle her in direct one-on-one conversation before. Not that she felt that someone of her... profession, should be considered as anything less than another trader or merchant.
Whilst she had been born royal, it was the lesson her father had taught her over and again that a King or a Queen was a job as much as it was a privilege. It was not the trophy to be earnt by the task that could produce the trophy of self-worth and satisfaction. To rule was to perform a role in service to others. It was no better or worse than any other such as a merchant, a trader or even, if one was generous with their definitions... a whore.
The only difference was that a monarch had to choose to perform their service in the efforts of helping others. It was often that those who performed other such roles were forced into it as a means to survive. It was why, according to her mother, so many of the ruling classes turned selfish - for they were not forced to work at the threat of suffrage. Instead, they were expected to choose the harder path for the sake of others. A rarity that was worth its uniqueness.
On the flipside of this, Persephone found it hard to squash down her distaste for Olena's admitted profession. Only recently had she been brave enough to share her body with another and that had been solely with the man whom she was to marry. She could not imagine going through such an intimate and... in many ways... scary experience with someone she did not whole heartedly trust - let alone a stranger. The idea that this woman had managed to do so set her apart in Persephone's mind as someone she might struggle to understand...
Then again... she had few whom she might call friend now. And she could do worse than a woman whom - as she understood it - had loved unconditionally and held faith in a man for so long without hope. Whilst she might have given her body to others, her loyalty of heart - however confusing that juxtaposition was to Persephone - was a trait she could at least find admiration for.
Swallowing when she realised that her question had offended the girl and chastising herself internally for her lack of careful social etiquette, Persephone gave herself a mental shake. Simply because this girl was low born didn't mean that she deserved to be spoken to in such a manner.
Raising a hand to her collarbone, Persephone shook her head softly, the lengths of her hair that hung loose around her face, rough and a little wavy from the sea salt, swaying to hit her in either cheek.
"I did not mean to offend." She told the girl, the fingers of her other hand plucking at the soft and expensive gown that she herself wore beneath the cloak she wore for warmth against the sea spray. "I only wished to know if you required something more." She offered, turning her tone softer and - she hoped - kinder.
Putting aside any offense that the young girl clearly didn't mean by her entire lack of etiquette in curtseys or gestures of respect to a Queen, Persephone felt the girl's assessment of her seem almost undercutting. As if her status as Queen was mere nothing - a simple statement of casual reference made by a brothel girl who saw her as nothing more than a body and a person.
It was humbling to say the least.
When the girl spoke of how her life selling her body was now over thanks to her reunion with Dima, Persephone felt her lips curl a little in a sympathetic joy. There was something about the girl that was so pure in her emotions that it was almost contagious to watch.
"What are your plans together once we reach Athenia?" She asked the girl, her eyes turning curious and her figure straight and true - the carriage of a royal.
Persephone had no idea what to make of the girl before her. She had never met a woman of her... background before. And she had certainly never had to handle her in direct one-on-one conversation before. Not that she felt that someone of her... profession, should be considered as anything less than another trader or merchant.
Whilst she had been born royal, it was the lesson her father had taught her over and again that a King or a Queen was a job as much as it was a privilege. It was not the trophy to be earnt by the task that could produce the trophy of self-worth and satisfaction. To rule was to perform a role in service to others. It was no better or worse than any other such as a merchant, a trader or even, if one was generous with their definitions... a whore.
The only difference was that a monarch had to choose to perform their service in the efforts of helping others. It was often that those who performed other such roles were forced into it as a means to survive. It was why, according to her mother, so many of the ruling classes turned selfish - for they were not forced to work at the threat of suffrage. Instead, they were expected to choose the harder path for the sake of others. A rarity that was worth its uniqueness.
On the flipside of this, Persephone found it hard to squash down her distaste for Olena's admitted profession. Only recently had she been brave enough to share her body with another and that had been solely with the man whom she was to marry. She could not imagine going through such an intimate and... in many ways... scary experience with someone she did not whole heartedly trust - let alone a stranger. The idea that this woman had managed to do so set her apart in Persephone's mind as someone she might struggle to understand...
Then again... she had few whom she might call friend now. And she could do worse than a woman whom - as she understood it - had loved unconditionally and held faith in a man for so long without hope. Whilst she might have given her body to others, her loyalty of heart - however confusing that juxtaposition was to Persephone - was a trait she could at least find admiration for.
Swallowing when she realised that her question had offended the girl and chastising herself internally for her lack of careful social etiquette, Persephone gave herself a mental shake. Simply because this girl was low born didn't mean that she deserved to be spoken to in such a manner.
Raising a hand to her collarbone, Persephone shook her head softly, the lengths of her hair that hung loose around her face, rough and a little wavy from the sea salt, swaying to hit her in either cheek.
"I did not mean to offend." She told the girl, the fingers of her other hand plucking at the soft and expensive gown that she herself wore beneath the cloak she wore for warmth against the sea spray. "I only wished to know if you required something more." She offered, turning her tone softer and - she hoped - kinder.
Putting aside any offense that the young girl clearly didn't mean by her entire lack of etiquette in curtseys or gestures of respect to a Queen, Persephone felt the girl's assessment of her seem almost undercutting. As if her status as Queen was mere nothing - a simple statement of casual reference made by a brothel girl who saw her as nothing more than a body and a person.
It was humbling to say the least.
When the girl spoke of how her life selling her body was now over thanks to her reunion with Dima, Persephone felt her lips curl a little in a sympathetic joy. There was something about the girl that was so pure in her emotions that it was almost contagious to watch.
"What are your plans together once we reach Athenia?" She asked the girl, her eyes turning curious and her figure straight and true - the carriage of a royal.
She wished she could live in such blissful ignorance, to assume that most of those who were in the sex trade were there by choice. Olena would have picked any other life for herself, forced into it by captivity. She was used to people looking down at her, because it was obvious to those who looked that she sold herself for money. But they often assumed she kept the money herself.
Did they know that she was stolen from her home as a youth? That she had done nothing to deserve the life she’d been forced into? She doubted it, and she rarely told anyone that information. If they wished to think themselves better, simply because they were born under a more favorable star, she let them. She owed no one an explanation.
And yet, the woman in front of her was offering kindness, trying to be more than the stereotypical royal. Olena took a breath, trying to calm her immediate defenses of herself to accept that not everyone was looking to make gold off her body. The fact that she had asked few questions of her, had let her on the ship and had kept her with Olena had been the most kindness she’d received since her sister died.
So she bit back her desire to further judge, to turn down a kind word in favor of feeling better. As much as she wanted to prove herself, Olena was realistic. This woman held her fate within her hands, could easily return her to the slaver who she’d been freed from. Or could sell her the moment they landed. What had her mother once told her? Respect can earn more than gold with the right people? She looked down at the dress, at the darkened water spots from the splash of the sea. ”If you wish to give, I would not say no.”
While she didn’t owe her the truth, Olena was torn. She knew no one, had no connections, save for Dmytros. If she wished to truly change, she would need her own allies. Hiding behind Dima was not an option forever. ”I do not think we have thought that far ahead. We are still marvaling in the reunion of our past to think of what the future may hold. We were stolen from our home as children, sold to others for their own purposes. My life has not been my own for a very long time.” She let her cheeks flush, ”We are still getting to know each other after 16 years of separation. But I hope to stay with him, for I have loved him too long to be parted from him again. So if he is to be in your service, I suppose I will have to be as well.”
It was a bit of a challenge, putting her fate in the hands of another woman. But there was kindness in her eyes, and maybe she would take pity on the lovers and keep them together.
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She wished she could live in such blissful ignorance, to assume that most of those who were in the sex trade were there by choice. Olena would have picked any other life for herself, forced into it by captivity. She was used to people looking down at her, because it was obvious to those who looked that she sold herself for money. But they often assumed she kept the money herself.
Did they know that she was stolen from her home as a youth? That she had done nothing to deserve the life she’d been forced into? She doubted it, and she rarely told anyone that information. If they wished to think themselves better, simply because they were born under a more favorable star, she let them. She owed no one an explanation.
And yet, the woman in front of her was offering kindness, trying to be more than the stereotypical royal. Olena took a breath, trying to calm her immediate defenses of herself to accept that not everyone was looking to make gold off her body. The fact that she had asked few questions of her, had let her on the ship and had kept her with Olena had been the most kindness she’d received since her sister died.
So she bit back her desire to further judge, to turn down a kind word in favor of feeling better. As much as she wanted to prove herself, Olena was realistic. This woman held her fate within her hands, could easily return her to the slaver who she’d been freed from. Or could sell her the moment they landed. What had her mother once told her? Respect can earn more than gold with the right people? She looked down at the dress, at the darkened water spots from the splash of the sea. ”If you wish to give, I would not say no.”
While she didn’t owe her the truth, Olena was torn. She knew no one, had no connections, save for Dmytros. If she wished to truly change, she would need her own allies. Hiding behind Dima was not an option forever. ”I do not think we have thought that far ahead. We are still marvaling in the reunion of our past to think of what the future may hold. We were stolen from our home as children, sold to others for their own purposes. My life has not been my own for a very long time.” She let her cheeks flush, ”We are still getting to know each other after 16 years of separation. But I hope to stay with him, for I have loved him too long to be parted from him again. So if he is to be in your service, I suppose I will have to be as well.”
It was a bit of a challenge, putting her fate in the hands of another woman. But there was kindness in her eyes, and maybe she would take pity on the lovers and keep them together.
She wished she could live in such blissful ignorance, to assume that most of those who were in the sex trade were there by choice. Olena would have picked any other life for herself, forced into it by captivity. She was used to people looking down at her, because it was obvious to those who looked that she sold herself for money. But they often assumed she kept the money herself.
Did they know that she was stolen from her home as a youth? That she had done nothing to deserve the life she’d been forced into? She doubted it, and she rarely told anyone that information. If they wished to think themselves better, simply because they were born under a more favorable star, she let them. She owed no one an explanation.
And yet, the woman in front of her was offering kindness, trying to be more than the stereotypical royal. Olena took a breath, trying to calm her immediate defenses of herself to accept that not everyone was looking to make gold off her body. The fact that she had asked few questions of her, had let her on the ship and had kept her with Olena had been the most kindness she’d received since her sister died.
So she bit back her desire to further judge, to turn down a kind word in favor of feeling better. As much as she wanted to prove herself, Olena was realistic. This woman held her fate within her hands, could easily return her to the slaver who she’d been freed from. Or could sell her the moment they landed. What had her mother once told her? Respect can earn more than gold with the right people? She looked down at the dress, at the darkened water spots from the splash of the sea. ”If you wish to give, I would not say no.”
While she didn’t owe her the truth, Olena was torn. She knew no one, had no connections, save for Dmytros. If she wished to truly change, she would need her own allies. Hiding behind Dima was not an option forever. ”I do not think we have thought that far ahead. We are still marvaling in the reunion of our past to think of what the future may hold. We were stolen from our home as children, sold to others for their own purposes. My life has not been my own for a very long time.” She let her cheeks flush, ”We are still getting to know each other after 16 years of separation. But I hope to stay with him, for I have loved him too long to be parted from him again. So if he is to be in your service, I suppose I will have to be as well.”
It was a bit of a challenge, putting her fate in the hands of another woman. But there was kindness in her eyes, and maybe she would take pity on the lovers and keep them together.
The woman before her was a little intriguing to Persephone. A woman who, by all rights sat at the bottom of the social ladder in every possible way and yet held herself and spoke in a manner that betrayed pride and determination in every line of her features and every syllable of her address. Persephone had been raised for so many years being told that what was within was worth nothing if you could not show it upon your surface and impose it upon others, that she was surprised to note the way in which this woman's integrity had withstood for so long and now captured her attention, despite her surface never showing it in her profession. To the world, she was the lowest. To herself she was an independent means of authority.
Persephone had never known it to be that way around in her own life.
And so, the young woman with the fiery hair made Persephone curious and gave an immediate sense of respect. Like discovering a wild animal that growled defensively but would not attack unless provoked. You could fear the animal, you could accept that you neither knew nor understood what sparked it to be so protective of itself. But you also could not help but notice its scars and admire the strength it still held despite them.
As far as Persephone could tell, what she had originally assumed to be a simple trader profession of body for coin, was the scarring that Olena now bore for all the world to see. Yet, here she stood, still growling.
"I do not know if Demetrius will stay within my employ." She told the girl, knowing that truth would serve her better with anyone that had been taught by life to be so distrusting. "In truth, he is not truly within it now, as I have only the power to give him - and yourself - shelter and food, rather than salary." She had no coin of her own until she returned to Athenia and could claim it for herself.
Looking out towards the horizon that would, in a few days, yield the beginnings of the Athenian landscape, Persephone then turned back to Olena, her long, dark tresses flickering in the wind.
"I journey to Athenia on a delicate and dangerous endeavour." She said, again with as much honesty as she could muster. "So much so that I do not wish to request anyone to journey with me. Until now being a part of my retinue has been a better choice than nothing, but once we reach Athenia, where Demetrius will have connections and the ability to take up work once more... I would encourage you to choose the path that would see you happiest. To journey with me would be unlikely to yield the comfortable and happy life that I feel the two of you must deserve after so many years apart."
Whilst Persephone needed all the support she could find in her immediate future, she was not about to con two people who had no other options into becoming her guard and servant. Trust was more important than anything else in those she now journeyed with and if she were to force those around her to join in her course, any trust developed would be built upon cracked foundations. Resentment would be all that was needed to break those cracks wide open somewhere in the future – most likely at the worst time when she or her sister were placed in danger. And she would not risk that. If anyone was to journey with her now, it had to be of their own choice.
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The woman before her was a little intriguing to Persephone. A woman who, by all rights sat at the bottom of the social ladder in every possible way and yet held herself and spoke in a manner that betrayed pride and determination in every line of her features and every syllable of her address. Persephone had been raised for so many years being told that what was within was worth nothing if you could not show it upon your surface and impose it upon others, that she was surprised to note the way in which this woman's integrity had withstood for so long and now captured her attention, despite her surface never showing it in her profession. To the world, she was the lowest. To herself she was an independent means of authority.
Persephone had never known it to be that way around in her own life.
And so, the young woman with the fiery hair made Persephone curious and gave an immediate sense of respect. Like discovering a wild animal that growled defensively but would not attack unless provoked. You could fear the animal, you could accept that you neither knew nor understood what sparked it to be so protective of itself. But you also could not help but notice its scars and admire the strength it still held despite them.
As far as Persephone could tell, what she had originally assumed to be a simple trader profession of body for coin, was the scarring that Olena now bore for all the world to see. Yet, here she stood, still growling.
"I do not know if Demetrius will stay within my employ." She told the girl, knowing that truth would serve her better with anyone that had been taught by life to be so distrusting. "In truth, he is not truly within it now, as I have only the power to give him - and yourself - shelter and food, rather than salary." She had no coin of her own until she returned to Athenia and could claim it for herself.
Looking out towards the horizon that would, in a few days, yield the beginnings of the Athenian landscape, Persephone then turned back to Olena, her long, dark tresses flickering in the wind.
"I journey to Athenia on a delicate and dangerous endeavour." She said, again with as much honesty as she could muster. "So much so that I do not wish to request anyone to journey with me. Until now being a part of my retinue has been a better choice than nothing, but once we reach Athenia, where Demetrius will have connections and the ability to take up work once more... I would encourage you to choose the path that would see you happiest. To journey with me would be unlikely to yield the comfortable and happy life that I feel the two of you must deserve after so many years apart."
Whilst Persephone needed all the support she could find in her immediate future, she was not about to con two people who had no other options into becoming her guard and servant. Trust was more important than anything else in those she now journeyed with and if she were to force those around her to join in her course, any trust developed would be built upon cracked foundations. Resentment would be all that was needed to break those cracks wide open somewhere in the future – most likely at the worst time when she or her sister were placed in danger. And she would not risk that. If anyone was to journey with her now, it had to be of their own choice.
The woman before her was a little intriguing to Persephone. A woman who, by all rights sat at the bottom of the social ladder in every possible way and yet held herself and spoke in a manner that betrayed pride and determination in every line of her features and every syllable of her address. Persephone had been raised for so many years being told that what was within was worth nothing if you could not show it upon your surface and impose it upon others, that she was surprised to note the way in which this woman's integrity had withstood for so long and now captured her attention, despite her surface never showing it in her profession. To the world, she was the lowest. To herself she was an independent means of authority.
Persephone had never known it to be that way around in her own life.
And so, the young woman with the fiery hair made Persephone curious and gave an immediate sense of respect. Like discovering a wild animal that growled defensively but would not attack unless provoked. You could fear the animal, you could accept that you neither knew nor understood what sparked it to be so protective of itself. But you also could not help but notice its scars and admire the strength it still held despite them.
As far as Persephone could tell, what she had originally assumed to be a simple trader profession of body for coin, was the scarring that Olena now bore for all the world to see. Yet, here she stood, still growling.
"I do not know if Demetrius will stay within my employ." She told the girl, knowing that truth would serve her better with anyone that had been taught by life to be so distrusting. "In truth, he is not truly within it now, as I have only the power to give him - and yourself - shelter and food, rather than salary." She had no coin of her own until she returned to Athenia and could claim it for herself.
Looking out towards the horizon that would, in a few days, yield the beginnings of the Athenian landscape, Persephone then turned back to Olena, her long, dark tresses flickering in the wind.
"I journey to Athenia on a delicate and dangerous endeavour." She said, again with as much honesty as she could muster. "So much so that I do not wish to request anyone to journey with me. Until now being a part of my retinue has been a better choice than nothing, but once we reach Athenia, where Demetrius will have connections and the ability to take up work once more... I would encourage you to choose the path that would see you happiest. To journey with me would be unlikely to yield the comfortable and happy life that I feel the two of you must deserve after so many years apart."
Whilst Persephone needed all the support she could find in her immediate future, she was not about to con two people who had no other options into becoming her guard and servant. Trust was more important than anything else in those she now journeyed with and if she were to force those around her to join in her course, any trust developed would be built upon cracked foundations. Resentment would be all that was needed to break those cracks wide open somewhere in the future – most likely at the worst time when she or her sister were placed in danger. And she would not risk that. If anyone was to journey with her now, it had to be of their own choice.
She knew she had fight within her. Her sister used to tease her that it was the only reason she’d lived as long as she had. For it took a woman made of fire and steel to endure the kind of torturous life that she had lived and not be completely broken by it. Of course, those words were said before her sister had died, before she was even sick. Her sister had been her biggest believer in her strength, but in the end, it couldn’t save her. Like the rest of her family, her sister died a painful death, with Olena ending up the one with the debts.
The redhead was good at judging men. Most often than not, they wore their emotions upon their face without secrecy. They had little reason to, for usually they could handle the reactions of others with brute force, if necessary. And while men were not against lying, women were far better at hiding their true intentions. She could hardly stand a coy woman who felt they needed to bat their lashes and then stab others in the back. Perhaps that was why she had so few friends to protect her after her senator died.
She didn’t trust those who grew up in court, as that was where the game was learned. In another life, she had found herself a part of those courtly ways, and she still didn’t find herself willing to become a part of them. And while she was quick to assume that anyone who bore a title was lying, Olena couldn’t help but notice the vulnerability in this woman in front of her. Dima had told her a bit of the past, that history had not been kind to her either. And just because Olena’s struggles were probably more difficult, it didn’t make it less for the person who was experiencing what she was. So Olena swallowed down her judgment and listened.
”In truth, that is more than we have ever had together.” Life had separated them, sending them down different paths to unite them now. And she was hellbent on staying with him, however that would happen. ”Whatever he chooses, I shall follow. He is not a man to stray away from danger, and I neither am I.” She gave a shrug, as if her own strength was nothing compared to that of the man she loved. ”As long as you wish to give your kindness, even if it is just in company, I will do my best to assist.” Olena stayed away from the word ‘serve’, for it had always meant something so negative for her.
The wind caught her hair, sending the red waves over her face. She brushed them back, and couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in a long time, there was no fear on this boat. Not when Dima was so close. Not when she was certain that she was safe with those on board. The scent of the sea air brought no chill to her core, even though it was cold. It was odd, the feeling of contentment. ”I am certain that we would be happy, as long as we were together. So as long as you do not plan on separating us, I see no reason that you could not count us among friends.” Her eyes danced in amusement. ”I have not had an ally in a long time. I do not think that it would be a bad thing, no?”
Her hands moved back to her hips, ”I am not gently bred like you. I won’t know when to bow and my mouth has been known to speak without thinking. But, so long as you are willing to teach, I would be willing to learn.” She didn’t know why she was in such a challenging mood. But all her dice were on the table. The only thing for her to lose was Dima, and the lady in front of her hadn’t seemed keen on taking that way. So Olena was showing her true colors. Loyal. Strong. Fierce. Her knowledge may not have been the conventional kind, but it was not to be taken for granted. ”For as long as Dima is at your side, I will be, too.” She held out her hand, striking up an accord with the lady. Dima would ultimately decide what would happen between her and the Queen. But, there was no reason that she couldn’t be useful while in her company.
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She knew she had fight within her. Her sister used to tease her that it was the only reason she’d lived as long as she had. For it took a woman made of fire and steel to endure the kind of torturous life that she had lived and not be completely broken by it. Of course, those words were said before her sister had died, before she was even sick. Her sister had been her biggest believer in her strength, but in the end, it couldn’t save her. Like the rest of her family, her sister died a painful death, with Olena ending up the one with the debts.
The redhead was good at judging men. Most often than not, they wore their emotions upon their face without secrecy. They had little reason to, for usually they could handle the reactions of others with brute force, if necessary. And while men were not against lying, women were far better at hiding their true intentions. She could hardly stand a coy woman who felt they needed to bat their lashes and then stab others in the back. Perhaps that was why she had so few friends to protect her after her senator died.
She didn’t trust those who grew up in court, as that was where the game was learned. In another life, she had found herself a part of those courtly ways, and she still didn’t find herself willing to become a part of them. And while she was quick to assume that anyone who bore a title was lying, Olena couldn’t help but notice the vulnerability in this woman in front of her. Dima had told her a bit of the past, that history had not been kind to her either. And just because Olena’s struggles were probably more difficult, it didn’t make it less for the person who was experiencing what she was. So Olena swallowed down her judgment and listened.
”In truth, that is more than we have ever had together.” Life had separated them, sending them down different paths to unite them now. And she was hellbent on staying with him, however that would happen. ”Whatever he chooses, I shall follow. He is not a man to stray away from danger, and I neither am I.” She gave a shrug, as if her own strength was nothing compared to that of the man she loved. ”As long as you wish to give your kindness, even if it is just in company, I will do my best to assist.” Olena stayed away from the word ‘serve’, for it had always meant something so negative for her.
The wind caught her hair, sending the red waves over her face. She brushed them back, and couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in a long time, there was no fear on this boat. Not when Dima was so close. Not when she was certain that she was safe with those on board. The scent of the sea air brought no chill to her core, even though it was cold. It was odd, the feeling of contentment. ”I am certain that we would be happy, as long as we were together. So as long as you do not plan on separating us, I see no reason that you could not count us among friends.” Her eyes danced in amusement. ”I have not had an ally in a long time. I do not think that it would be a bad thing, no?”
Her hands moved back to her hips, ”I am not gently bred like you. I won’t know when to bow and my mouth has been known to speak without thinking. But, so long as you are willing to teach, I would be willing to learn.” She didn’t know why she was in such a challenging mood. But all her dice were on the table. The only thing for her to lose was Dima, and the lady in front of her hadn’t seemed keen on taking that way. So Olena was showing her true colors. Loyal. Strong. Fierce. Her knowledge may not have been the conventional kind, but it was not to be taken for granted. ”For as long as Dima is at your side, I will be, too.” She held out her hand, striking up an accord with the lady. Dima would ultimately decide what would happen between her and the Queen. But, there was no reason that she couldn’t be useful while in her company.
She knew she had fight within her. Her sister used to tease her that it was the only reason she’d lived as long as she had. For it took a woman made of fire and steel to endure the kind of torturous life that she had lived and not be completely broken by it. Of course, those words were said before her sister had died, before she was even sick. Her sister had been her biggest believer in her strength, but in the end, it couldn’t save her. Like the rest of her family, her sister died a painful death, with Olena ending up the one with the debts.
The redhead was good at judging men. Most often than not, they wore their emotions upon their face without secrecy. They had little reason to, for usually they could handle the reactions of others with brute force, if necessary. And while men were not against lying, women were far better at hiding their true intentions. She could hardly stand a coy woman who felt they needed to bat their lashes and then stab others in the back. Perhaps that was why she had so few friends to protect her after her senator died.
She didn’t trust those who grew up in court, as that was where the game was learned. In another life, she had found herself a part of those courtly ways, and she still didn’t find herself willing to become a part of them. And while she was quick to assume that anyone who bore a title was lying, Olena couldn’t help but notice the vulnerability in this woman in front of her. Dima had told her a bit of the past, that history had not been kind to her either. And just because Olena’s struggles were probably more difficult, it didn’t make it less for the person who was experiencing what she was. So Olena swallowed down her judgment and listened.
”In truth, that is more than we have ever had together.” Life had separated them, sending them down different paths to unite them now. And she was hellbent on staying with him, however that would happen. ”Whatever he chooses, I shall follow. He is not a man to stray away from danger, and I neither am I.” She gave a shrug, as if her own strength was nothing compared to that of the man she loved. ”As long as you wish to give your kindness, even if it is just in company, I will do my best to assist.” Olena stayed away from the word ‘serve’, for it had always meant something so negative for her.
The wind caught her hair, sending the red waves over her face. She brushed them back, and couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in a long time, there was no fear on this boat. Not when Dima was so close. Not when she was certain that she was safe with those on board. The scent of the sea air brought no chill to her core, even though it was cold. It was odd, the feeling of contentment. ”I am certain that we would be happy, as long as we were together. So as long as you do not plan on separating us, I see no reason that you could not count us among friends.” Her eyes danced in amusement. ”I have not had an ally in a long time. I do not think that it would be a bad thing, no?”
Her hands moved back to her hips, ”I am not gently bred like you. I won’t know when to bow and my mouth has been known to speak without thinking. But, so long as you are willing to teach, I would be willing to learn.” She didn’t know why she was in such a challenging mood. But all her dice were on the table. The only thing for her to lose was Dima, and the lady in front of her hadn’t seemed keen on taking that way. So Olena was showing her true colors. Loyal. Strong. Fierce. Her knowledge may not have been the conventional kind, but it was not to be taken for granted. ”For as long as Dima is at your side, I will be, too.” She held out her hand, striking up an accord with the lady. Dima would ultimately decide what would happen between her and the Queen. But, there was no reason that she couldn’t be useful while in her company.
Persephone watched the young woman and witnessed her determination and assurances. She nodded as the redhead spoke, explaining her position and her desires. Had the words come from anyone else, Persephone might have called them 'quaint' or 'small-minded', All Olena wished to do and be was beside Demetrius. So simple. When Persephone had been raised to dream big and think in grandeur.
Yet, coming from Olena, on the movement of a confident tongue and from the spirit of one who had suffered much in life, Persephone saw such a simple - no, so singular a desire - to perhaps be a mark of wisdom. For when everything was taken from your life... did you not learn which cut the deepest with its absence? Did you not learn which was to be the most important in life? It was a lesson that Olena had clearly mastered and that Persephone had been given a glimpse of in the last month or so. And it was in that moment, that she thought the young women before her to have much that she could learn from. Just as she could offer her something in return...
Persephone did not respond to each of Olena's requirements for alliance. She nodded slowly and waited until she had completely finished speaking before she offered her own judgement, reaching out as she did so to make the vow formal.
"I have no intention of separating anyone from those that they love." She told the woman, with a soft shake of her head and a firm gaze. "And it may be optimistic of me - or perhaps even naive - but I do not believe that anyone should seek to give unto others anything but kindness." She smiled as her fingers closed around Olena's. "So, perhaps, despite our differences Lady Olena... We might find some common ground after all?"
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Persephone watched the young woman and witnessed her determination and assurances. She nodded as the redhead spoke, explaining her position and her desires. Had the words come from anyone else, Persephone might have called them 'quaint' or 'small-minded', All Olena wished to do and be was beside Demetrius. So simple. When Persephone had been raised to dream big and think in grandeur.
Yet, coming from Olena, on the movement of a confident tongue and from the spirit of one who had suffered much in life, Persephone saw such a simple - no, so singular a desire - to perhaps be a mark of wisdom. For when everything was taken from your life... did you not learn which cut the deepest with its absence? Did you not learn which was to be the most important in life? It was a lesson that Olena had clearly mastered and that Persephone had been given a glimpse of in the last month or so. And it was in that moment, that she thought the young women before her to have much that she could learn from. Just as she could offer her something in return...
Persephone did not respond to each of Olena's requirements for alliance. She nodded slowly and waited until she had completely finished speaking before she offered her own judgement, reaching out as she did so to make the vow formal.
"I have no intention of separating anyone from those that they love." She told the woman, with a soft shake of her head and a firm gaze. "And it may be optimistic of me - or perhaps even naive - but I do not believe that anyone should seek to give unto others anything but kindness." She smiled as her fingers closed around Olena's. "So, perhaps, despite our differences Lady Olena... We might find some common ground after all?"
Persephone watched the young woman and witnessed her determination and assurances. She nodded as the redhead spoke, explaining her position and her desires. Had the words come from anyone else, Persephone might have called them 'quaint' or 'small-minded', All Olena wished to do and be was beside Demetrius. So simple. When Persephone had been raised to dream big and think in grandeur.
Yet, coming from Olena, on the movement of a confident tongue and from the spirit of one who had suffered much in life, Persephone saw such a simple - no, so singular a desire - to perhaps be a mark of wisdom. For when everything was taken from your life... did you not learn which cut the deepest with its absence? Did you not learn which was to be the most important in life? It was a lesson that Olena had clearly mastered and that Persephone had been given a glimpse of in the last month or so. And it was in that moment, that she thought the young women before her to have much that she could learn from. Just as she could offer her something in return...
Persephone did not respond to each of Olena's requirements for alliance. She nodded slowly and waited until she had completely finished speaking before she offered her own judgement, reaching out as she did so to make the vow formal.
"I have no intention of separating anyone from those that they love." She told the woman, with a soft shake of her head and a firm gaze. "And it may be optimistic of me - or perhaps even naive - but I do not believe that anyone should seek to give unto others anything but kindness." She smiled as her fingers closed around Olena's. "So, perhaps, despite our differences Lady Olena... We might find some common ground after all?"
She tried to remember, from a time not so long ago, what it was like to be called a lady. When she was with her Senator, openly involved with the man alongside a wife who hated her, she was given courtesy, had a maid who helped her and seemed to care for her. Even with the open animosity in the house, Olena still felt like she was more than what she really was. Perhaps now, with a Queen calling her a lady instead of just those around her, she would really be more.
There was much she would need to learn, for how long had it been since she had to dress anyone but herself, but she was willing to try. If it meant a better life for her and Dima, one spent together, then it was something she would do without a second thought. ”I will hold you to that, My Queen.” She said with a smile, hoping that it was apparent that she would. At this point in her life, Olena would not be parted from him. After thinking he was dead, after trying to live life without him, she knew that doing so felt impossible. Just the idea of being without him made her sweat. So if this lady was going to promise not to separate the two, then Olena was determined to make her keep her end of the bargain.
”I shall try to make sure you do not regret it.” Her ears pinkened sheepishly, knowing that her honest, open opinions could often get her in trouble. ”It has been a long time since I have had to be worried about guarding my tongue. But my mum taught me to keep my mouth shut when I need to, and so I shall.” She grinned, her bright eyes dancing in the sun. There was a bit of a racing in her heart as she thought of what her life may look like in the near future.
And that future so solidly included Dima.
With another squeeze of her hand, Olena let it fall to the side. ”I should get back to his side. Ships make us both nervous, and I do not wish to cause him worry with my absence.” She should have bowed, or made a more appropriate exit. But the news brought her happiness, and she was too excited to tell him about their conversation. She simply smiled and turned, her feet light against the wood of the ship as she headed down below to share her good fortune with her love.
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She tried to remember, from a time not so long ago, what it was like to be called a lady. When she was with her Senator, openly involved with the man alongside a wife who hated her, she was given courtesy, had a maid who helped her and seemed to care for her. Even with the open animosity in the house, Olena still felt like she was more than what she really was. Perhaps now, with a Queen calling her a lady instead of just those around her, she would really be more.
There was much she would need to learn, for how long had it been since she had to dress anyone but herself, but she was willing to try. If it meant a better life for her and Dima, one spent together, then it was something she would do without a second thought. ”I will hold you to that, My Queen.” She said with a smile, hoping that it was apparent that she would. At this point in her life, Olena would not be parted from him. After thinking he was dead, after trying to live life without him, she knew that doing so felt impossible. Just the idea of being without him made her sweat. So if this lady was going to promise not to separate the two, then Olena was determined to make her keep her end of the bargain.
”I shall try to make sure you do not regret it.” Her ears pinkened sheepishly, knowing that her honest, open opinions could often get her in trouble. ”It has been a long time since I have had to be worried about guarding my tongue. But my mum taught me to keep my mouth shut when I need to, and so I shall.” She grinned, her bright eyes dancing in the sun. There was a bit of a racing in her heart as she thought of what her life may look like in the near future.
And that future so solidly included Dima.
With another squeeze of her hand, Olena let it fall to the side. ”I should get back to his side. Ships make us both nervous, and I do not wish to cause him worry with my absence.” She should have bowed, or made a more appropriate exit. But the news brought her happiness, and she was too excited to tell him about their conversation. She simply smiled and turned, her feet light against the wood of the ship as she headed down below to share her good fortune with her love.
She tried to remember, from a time not so long ago, what it was like to be called a lady. When she was with her Senator, openly involved with the man alongside a wife who hated her, she was given courtesy, had a maid who helped her and seemed to care for her. Even with the open animosity in the house, Olena still felt like she was more than what she really was. Perhaps now, with a Queen calling her a lady instead of just those around her, she would really be more.
There was much she would need to learn, for how long had it been since she had to dress anyone but herself, but she was willing to try. If it meant a better life for her and Dima, one spent together, then it was something she would do without a second thought. ”I will hold you to that, My Queen.” She said with a smile, hoping that it was apparent that she would. At this point in her life, Olena would not be parted from him. After thinking he was dead, after trying to live life without him, she knew that doing so felt impossible. Just the idea of being without him made her sweat. So if this lady was going to promise not to separate the two, then Olena was determined to make her keep her end of the bargain.
”I shall try to make sure you do not regret it.” Her ears pinkened sheepishly, knowing that her honest, open opinions could often get her in trouble. ”It has been a long time since I have had to be worried about guarding my tongue. But my mum taught me to keep my mouth shut when I need to, and so I shall.” She grinned, her bright eyes dancing in the sun. There was a bit of a racing in her heart as she thought of what her life may look like in the near future.
And that future so solidly included Dima.
With another squeeze of her hand, Olena let it fall to the side. ”I should get back to his side. Ships make us both nervous, and I do not wish to cause him worry with my absence.” She should have bowed, or made a more appropriate exit. But the news brought her happiness, and she was too excited to tell him about their conversation. She simply smiled and turned, her feet light against the wood of the ship as she headed down below to share her good fortune with her love.
Persephone allowed Olena to leave her company and return to her man with a look that risked appearing sentimental and protective. It was a curious thing, to witness a woman who appeared so monumentally confident in herself - so entirely worldly wise - and yet simultaneously felt a little broken... fragile. There was a part of Persephone that would always play the compassionate older sister or defender of those around her, regardless of whether she held the power and authority to do so anymore.
With a simple nod of respect and acceptance of Olena's acceptance of a position with her and determination that she would do her best, Persephone watched the fiery-haired young woman depart and head back to Demetrius below deck before turning to gaze out at the horizon - a practice that she found helped ease her nausea upon the waves.
Perhaps she would find some allies in her attempts to rescue her sister after all. And they might, after ensuring that Emilia was safe and cared for, return back to Taengea and live peacefully in Chaoedia. She was sure that Iason wouldn't mind if she brought with her a sister and a few ladies maids. The more the merrier in their little barony... at least, that was what she hoped.
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Persephone allowed Olena to leave her company and return to her man with a look that risked appearing sentimental and protective. It was a curious thing, to witness a woman who appeared so monumentally confident in herself - so entirely worldly wise - and yet simultaneously felt a little broken... fragile. There was a part of Persephone that would always play the compassionate older sister or defender of those around her, regardless of whether she held the power and authority to do so anymore.
With a simple nod of respect and acceptance of Olena's acceptance of a position with her and determination that she would do her best, Persephone watched the fiery-haired young woman depart and head back to Demetrius below deck before turning to gaze out at the horizon - a practice that she found helped ease her nausea upon the waves.
Perhaps she would find some allies in her attempts to rescue her sister after all. And they might, after ensuring that Emilia was safe and cared for, return back to Taengea and live peacefully in Chaoedia. She was sure that Iason wouldn't mind if she brought with her a sister and a few ladies maids. The more the merrier in their little barony... at least, that was what she hoped.
Persephone allowed Olena to leave her company and return to her man with a look that risked appearing sentimental and protective. It was a curious thing, to witness a woman who appeared so monumentally confident in herself - so entirely worldly wise - and yet simultaneously felt a little broken... fragile. There was a part of Persephone that would always play the compassionate older sister or defender of those around her, regardless of whether she held the power and authority to do so anymore.
With a simple nod of respect and acceptance of Olena's acceptance of a position with her and determination that she would do her best, Persephone watched the fiery-haired young woman depart and head back to Demetrius below deck before turning to gaze out at the horizon - a practice that she found helped ease her nausea upon the waves.
Perhaps she would find some allies in her attempts to rescue her sister after all. And they might, after ensuring that Emilia was safe and cared for, return back to Taengea and live peacefully in Chaoedia. She was sure that Iason wouldn't mind if she brought with her a sister and a few ladies maids. The more the merrier in their little barony... at least, that was what she hoped.