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Stephanos’s brilliant smile only grew more radiant the more Nikos looked over the railing in with clearly dubious feelings about the whole endeavor. Luckily, this didn’t depend on Nikos’s desires. It depended on Stephanos’s. “I have no desire to have my fortune told, my prince. But it would be my pleasure to accompany you and Princess Xene to the fountain all the same.” Lord Nikos replied, to which Stephanos grinned.
“Good, good,” like it made any difference whatsoever. At least Nikos was smiling and once Nikos’s back was turned, Stephanos shot Achilleas a look that promised only the best of evenings. Though that probably depended on the point of view one took. It was definitely possible that Nikos would take this in good stride, but then, it was also possible that his horse would sprout wings and bark like a dog.
The walk through the gardens, with the flickering torches casting deep shadows was a pleasant one, even without the prospect before them. The moon was full and music wafted on the warm night air from the windows above, where whirling dancers and safer company still stayed. Stephanos’s grin had tempered itself back into a proper smile by the time they reached the fountain and he looked up at the god like the rest of them did.
“What is the story behind the fountain, your highness?” Achilleas asked, and Xene chorused her interest as well. Stephanos clapped his hands together, looking from Nikos, to Xene, to Achilleas, and then waved an arm expansively over the gently undulating water. It was black with night and with golden fire sliding over its surface and deeply netted with the reflection of stars overhead.
“It is a story we all should know, if we were move devout,” he grinned, raising his brows at them. “But I’ll be kind. I’ll tell you. Nikos, I will, of course, need your accompaniment. Stand here,” his hand hovered just above Nikos’s shoulder, not actually touching him, but ready to if Nikos didn’t stand where he was told. “Yes, just there. Now turn around. You’ll be our Narcissios, the son of Narcissus, so the tales go. Just as beautiful as his father, just as vain, but a little more clever. He would gaze into mirrors and pools, but rather than pine for himself, he pined for fame. He thought himself so clever and so handsome that he could have it, could he not? And so he begged Apollo to reveal to him his fate. Apollo appeared,”
And here Stephanos took an exaggerated step to be right beside Nikos, placing himself as the god of this story. “Apollo says to Narcissios, ‘Put thine face against the waters, and I swear all eyes will be drawn towards you and your name will be upon every tongue.’” A grin split his face. “Go on, Narcissios. Put your face to the water…” His blue eyes glittered as he waited for Nikos to bend down, waited for the man’s nose to touch the water and then “Oops!”
Stephanos danced onto the lip of the fountain in order to ‘get a better look’, lost his balance, and bodily fell into Nikos, tumbling the two of them into the fountain, doing absolutely nothing to save himself. His laughter rang across the courtyard and he didn’t immediately get up. “Forgive me, my lord! Such a clumsy god I am, it seems. Are you alright?” his tone was perfectly innocent but the laughter through which it came was not.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Stephanos’s brilliant smile only grew more radiant the more Nikos looked over the railing in with clearly dubious feelings about the whole endeavor. Luckily, this didn’t depend on Nikos’s desires. It depended on Stephanos’s. “I have no desire to have my fortune told, my prince. But it would be my pleasure to accompany you and Princess Xene to the fountain all the same.” Lord Nikos replied, to which Stephanos grinned.
“Good, good,” like it made any difference whatsoever. At least Nikos was smiling and once Nikos’s back was turned, Stephanos shot Achilleas a look that promised only the best of evenings. Though that probably depended on the point of view one took. It was definitely possible that Nikos would take this in good stride, but then, it was also possible that his horse would sprout wings and bark like a dog.
The walk through the gardens, with the flickering torches casting deep shadows was a pleasant one, even without the prospect before them. The moon was full and music wafted on the warm night air from the windows above, where whirling dancers and safer company still stayed. Stephanos’s grin had tempered itself back into a proper smile by the time they reached the fountain and he looked up at the god like the rest of them did.
“What is the story behind the fountain, your highness?” Achilleas asked, and Xene chorused her interest as well. Stephanos clapped his hands together, looking from Nikos, to Xene, to Achilleas, and then waved an arm expansively over the gently undulating water. It was black with night and with golden fire sliding over its surface and deeply netted with the reflection of stars overhead.
“It is a story we all should know, if we were move devout,” he grinned, raising his brows at them. “But I’ll be kind. I’ll tell you. Nikos, I will, of course, need your accompaniment. Stand here,” his hand hovered just above Nikos’s shoulder, not actually touching him, but ready to if Nikos didn’t stand where he was told. “Yes, just there. Now turn around. You’ll be our Narcissios, the son of Narcissus, so the tales go. Just as beautiful as his father, just as vain, but a little more clever. He would gaze into mirrors and pools, but rather than pine for himself, he pined for fame. He thought himself so clever and so handsome that he could have it, could he not? And so he begged Apollo to reveal to him his fate. Apollo appeared,”
And here Stephanos took an exaggerated step to be right beside Nikos, placing himself as the god of this story. “Apollo says to Narcissios, ‘Put thine face against the waters, and I swear all eyes will be drawn towards you and your name will be upon every tongue.’” A grin split his face. “Go on, Narcissios. Put your face to the water…” His blue eyes glittered as he waited for Nikos to bend down, waited for the man’s nose to touch the water and then “Oops!”
Stephanos danced onto the lip of the fountain in order to ‘get a better look’, lost his balance, and bodily fell into Nikos, tumbling the two of them into the fountain, doing absolutely nothing to save himself. His laughter rang across the courtyard and he didn’t immediately get up. “Forgive me, my lord! Such a clumsy god I am, it seems. Are you alright?” his tone was perfectly innocent but the laughter through which it came was not.
Stephanos’s brilliant smile only grew more radiant the more Nikos looked over the railing in with clearly dubious feelings about the whole endeavor. Luckily, this didn’t depend on Nikos’s desires. It depended on Stephanos’s. “I have no desire to have my fortune told, my prince. But it would be my pleasure to accompany you and Princess Xene to the fountain all the same.” Lord Nikos replied, to which Stephanos grinned.
“Good, good,” like it made any difference whatsoever. At least Nikos was smiling and once Nikos’s back was turned, Stephanos shot Achilleas a look that promised only the best of evenings. Though that probably depended on the point of view one took. It was definitely possible that Nikos would take this in good stride, but then, it was also possible that his horse would sprout wings and bark like a dog.
The walk through the gardens, with the flickering torches casting deep shadows was a pleasant one, even without the prospect before them. The moon was full and music wafted on the warm night air from the windows above, where whirling dancers and safer company still stayed. Stephanos’s grin had tempered itself back into a proper smile by the time they reached the fountain and he looked up at the god like the rest of them did.
“What is the story behind the fountain, your highness?” Achilleas asked, and Xene chorused her interest as well. Stephanos clapped his hands together, looking from Nikos, to Xene, to Achilleas, and then waved an arm expansively over the gently undulating water. It was black with night and with golden fire sliding over its surface and deeply netted with the reflection of stars overhead.
“It is a story we all should know, if we were move devout,” he grinned, raising his brows at them. “But I’ll be kind. I’ll tell you. Nikos, I will, of course, need your accompaniment. Stand here,” his hand hovered just above Nikos’s shoulder, not actually touching him, but ready to if Nikos didn’t stand where he was told. “Yes, just there. Now turn around. You’ll be our Narcissios, the son of Narcissus, so the tales go. Just as beautiful as his father, just as vain, but a little more clever. He would gaze into mirrors and pools, but rather than pine for himself, he pined for fame. He thought himself so clever and so handsome that he could have it, could he not? And so he begged Apollo to reveal to him his fate. Apollo appeared,”
And here Stephanos took an exaggerated step to be right beside Nikos, placing himself as the god of this story. “Apollo says to Narcissios, ‘Put thine face against the waters, and I swear all eyes will be drawn towards you and your name will be upon every tongue.’” A grin split his face. “Go on, Narcissios. Put your face to the water…” His blue eyes glittered as he waited for Nikos to bend down, waited for the man’s nose to touch the water and then “Oops!”
Stephanos danced onto the lip of the fountain in order to ‘get a better look’, lost his balance, and bodily fell into Nikos, tumbling the two of them into the fountain, doing absolutely nothing to save himself. His laughter rang across the courtyard and he didn’t immediately get up. “Forgive me, my lord! Such a clumsy god I am, it seems. Are you alright?” his tone was perfectly innocent but the laughter through which it came was not.
I should have kept my big mouth shut, Imma thought. Sara’s position in her family was precarious while her own was secure. She had no idea what it was like to be the illegitimate daughter of a prince. Achilleas was Sara’s half-brother. Maybe she was a reminder to him that his father was unfaithful to his mother. From what she had overheard, Sara’s father ignored his wife in favor of this mistress, and his wife hated his bastard children. Sara lived in the same manor as she did. Her life could not be easy. She also had an uncertain future. If her father died, she ...along with her mother and sister ... could be thrown out on the street with nothing but the clothes on her back.
Imma felt guilty for her uncharitable thoughts about her own family. Being the youngest in a brood of beautiful sisters was trivial compared to Sara’s situation. She was a legitimate member of House Leventi, and she would eventually make an advantageous marriage. The royal blood that ran through her veins would never be qustioned and doors would always open to her and not closed in her face. From now on, I will be thankful for what I have. I really have nothing to complain about.
Sara’s reassurances made her feel even more remorseful, but her words and the gentle hand on her shoulder gave her comfort. “I hope you’re right,” Imma sighed, “but I won’t hold my breath. I will take you up on your bet, though. I doubt anyone will be interested in me at all. Selene and Nana are still unmarried. No man in his right mind would pick me over them.” And here I am, complaining again. I must do better.
They spoke of other things then, and Imma cheered up considerably. There had always been an easy rapport between the two girls and they also shared some of the same interests. The youngest Leventi girl valued Sara’s friendship and she hoped that everything would go well with her in the future. Maybe she would be legitimized and become a princess. Even if she lost everything, Imma would not shun her and she would help her however she could.
“Yes, I’d like to have some of your cuttings. And you can take some of mine back with you. I’ll ask my parents if you can visit me.” Her gaze scanned the room, but she didn’t see either her mother or her father. She was about to ask Sara to join her in looked for them, but her friend had another, much more exciting idea. Using Sara’s hands for balance, she rose in one graceful movement, her sky-blue eyes sparkling with delight and mischief. “I’d love to dance with you. Look! The next dance is beginning. Let’s go!”
Pulling Sara toward the dance floor, she grinned at the brunette. “I’ll follow your lead. You know how horrible I am with directions.”
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I should have kept my big mouth shut, Imma thought. Sara’s position in her family was precarious while her own was secure. She had no idea what it was like to be the illegitimate daughter of a prince. Achilleas was Sara’s half-brother. Maybe she was a reminder to him that his father was unfaithful to his mother. From what she had overheard, Sara’s father ignored his wife in favor of this mistress, and his wife hated his bastard children. Sara lived in the same manor as she did. Her life could not be easy. She also had an uncertain future. If her father died, she ...along with her mother and sister ... could be thrown out on the street with nothing but the clothes on her back.
Imma felt guilty for her uncharitable thoughts about her own family. Being the youngest in a brood of beautiful sisters was trivial compared to Sara’s situation. She was a legitimate member of House Leventi, and she would eventually make an advantageous marriage. The royal blood that ran through her veins would never be qustioned and doors would always open to her and not closed in her face. From now on, I will be thankful for what I have. I really have nothing to complain about.
Sara’s reassurances made her feel even more remorseful, but her words and the gentle hand on her shoulder gave her comfort. “I hope you’re right,” Imma sighed, “but I won’t hold my breath. I will take you up on your bet, though. I doubt anyone will be interested in me at all. Selene and Nana are still unmarried. No man in his right mind would pick me over them.” And here I am, complaining again. I must do better.
They spoke of other things then, and Imma cheered up considerably. There had always been an easy rapport between the two girls and they also shared some of the same interests. The youngest Leventi girl valued Sara’s friendship and she hoped that everything would go well with her in the future. Maybe she would be legitimized and become a princess. Even if she lost everything, Imma would not shun her and she would help her however she could.
“Yes, I’d like to have some of your cuttings. And you can take some of mine back with you. I’ll ask my parents if you can visit me.” Her gaze scanned the room, but she didn’t see either her mother or her father. She was about to ask Sara to join her in looked for them, but her friend had another, much more exciting idea. Using Sara’s hands for balance, she rose in one graceful movement, her sky-blue eyes sparkling with delight and mischief. “I’d love to dance with you. Look! The next dance is beginning. Let’s go!”
Pulling Sara toward the dance floor, she grinned at the brunette. “I’ll follow your lead. You know how horrible I am with directions.”
I should have kept my big mouth shut, Imma thought. Sara’s position in her family was precarious while her own was secure. She had no idea what it was like to be the illegitimate daughter of a prince. Achilleas was Sara’s half-brother. Maybe she was a reminder to him that his father was unfaithful to his mother. From what she had overheard, Sara’s father ignored his wife in favor of this mistress, and his wife hated his bastard children. Sara lived in the same manor as she did. Her life could not be easy. She also had an uncertain future. If her father died, she ...along with her mother and sister ... could be thrown out on the street with nothing but the clothes on her back.
Imma felt guilty for her uncharitable thoughts about her own family. Being the youngest in a brood of beautiful sisters was trivial compared to Sara’s situation. She was a legitimate member of House Leventi, and she would eventually make an advantageous marriage. The royal blood that ran through her veins would never be qustioned and doors would always open to her and not closed in her face. From now on, I will be thankful for what I have. I really have nothing to complain about.
Sara’s reassurances made her feel even more remorseful, but her words and the gentle hand on her shoulder gave her comfort. “I hope you’re right,” Imma sighed, “but I won’t hold my breath. I will take you up on your bet, though. I doubt anyone will be interested in me at all. Selene and Nana are still unmarried. No man in his right mind would pick me over them.” And here I am, complaining again. I must do better.
They spoke of other things then, and Imma cheered up considerably. There had always been an easy rapport between the two girls and they also shared some of the same interests. The youngest Leventi girl valued Sara’s friendship and she hoped that everything would go well with her in the future. Maybe she would be legitimized and become a princess. Even if she lost everything, Imma would not shun her and she would help her however she could.
“Yes, I’d like to have some of your cuttings. And you can take some of mine back with you. I’ll ask my parents if you can visit me.” Her gaze scanned the room, but she didn’t see either her mother or her father. She was about to ask Sara to join her in looked for them, but her friend had another, much more exciting idea. Using Sara’s hands for balance, she rose in one graceful movement, her sky-blue eyes sparkling with delight and mischief. “I’d love to dance with you. Look! The next dance is beginning. Let’s go!”
Pulling Sara toward the dance floor, she grinned at the brunette. “I’ll follow your lead. You know how horrible I am with directions.”
The sidelines of the party left behind, Sara laughed as Imma took the lead and began to pull her back towards the dance floor. Luckily for them both, it was an appropriate lively song and they were not the only same-sex couples taking each others’ hands and going out to be merry together. This was the point of the entire party, and something that Sara would remember forever -- the enjoyment of friends, family and the like. She caught sight of her father as she passed by with Imma, offering him a slight nod -- but not slowing enough so that he could deter her. She didn’t know what he might think of it. He had always been so stiff, so worried about family image. Perhaps he’d think her childish for drawing her friend out for a dance, or perhaps he would see it as a way to solidify relations with the Leventi family further.
Her father behind her, Sara turned her attention back to Imma and the dance that they would take part in. ”It’s not difficult.” She said. ”This one is a little less formal, luckily for us both.” She did however, draw Imma’s hands close before pushing her out again to make the blonde twirl in a circle. It was fun. She was having fun and all of the worry of being prim and proper, saying the right things or doing the right things seemed to dissipate and she allowed herself to have fun with her best friend.
She was breathless once it drew to an end -- bringing a hand to her brow as she tried to catch her breath. ”That was perfect.” She said, her voice wispy with how out of breath she was. Her carefully pinned hair had a few strands falling loose from it. And then suddenly, she straightened as she remembered something so very important. She had completely forgotten all about it when Achilleas had approached her to ask for a dance. She reached out to Imma, setting a hand on her shoulder and pulling her close to whisper in her ear. ”I’ll come right back.” She promised. ”I invited Alastor, he’s supposed to be waiting for me outside.”
Imma would know enough about Alastor. He was...well, she was not sure how to describe him. They’d met as young children, before he’d gone away to Athenia to pursue his passions as a scholar. And over the years, their friendship had...well, she was not sure how to describe it. She’d longed for his letters, had agreed to meeting in secret in her brother’s province, and ultimately enjoyed his company. He was home now, on one of his few reprieves from Athenia -- and she had invited him here tonight. Perhaps she lacked that authority, but she could sneak him in and then who would question his presence? Especially if she stayed near.
The brunette turned, setting her blue gaze on the doors leading out to the gardens. She had shown him a place where he could wait for her -- and she hurried now, holding up the rich burgundy of her chiton. She hurried out into the gardens, skirting the dark figures she could see at the fountain, and headed for the place where she had told him to be waiting. She approached the gate carefully, locked but not guarded. She opened it cautiously, careful not to let it shut behind her. Her gaze was trying to adjust the darkness here, and her voice was soft as she called out.
”Alastor?” She called, her voice a whisper in favor of trying not to get caught. ”Alastor, are you there?” She bit her lip, glancing around for a sign of him. Swathed in the rich hues of burgundy and gold, Sara looked far beyond her fifteen short years – and surprisingly it was not difficult at all to see the beauty of the woman she was becoming. The thick dark curls had been neatly pinned and tucked into an elegant style, sweeping off of her delicate neck to reveal the pale skin there. Tiny ivory blooms dotted her hair like stars, a personal touch that she had done herself. There was no doubt that in a few years, her beauty might rival her mother and sister if she were to care to try.
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The sidelines of the party left behind, Sara laughed as Imma took the lead and began to pull her back towards the dance floor. Luckily for them both, it was an appropriate lively song and they were not the only same-sex couples taking each others’ hands and going out to be merry together. This was the point of the entire party, and something that Sara would remember forever -- the enjoyment of friends, family and the like. She caught sight of her father as she passed by with Imma, offering him a slight nod -- but not slowing enough so that he could deter her. She didn’t know what he might think of it. He had always been so stiff, so worried about family image. Perhaps he’d think her childish for drawing her friend out for a dance, or perhaps he would see it as a way to solidify relations with the Leventi family further.
Her father behind her, Sara turned her attention back to Imma and the dance that they would take part in. ”It’s not difficult.” She said. ”This one is a little less formal, luckily for us both.” She did however, draw Imma’s hands close before pushing her out again to make the blonde twirl in a circle. It was fun. She was having fun and all of the worry of being prim and proper, saying the right things or doing the right things seemed to dissipate and she allowed herself to have fun with her best friend.
She was breathless once it drew to an end -- bringing a hand to her brow as she tried to catch her breath. ”That was perfect.” She said, her voice wispy with how out of breath she was. Her carefully pinned hair had a few strands falling loose from it. And then suddenly, she straightened as she remembered something so very important. She had completely forgotten all about it when Achilleas had approached her to ask for a dance. She reached out to Imma, setting a hand on her shoulder and pulling her close to whisper in her ear. ”I’ll come right back.” She promised. ”I invited Alastor, he’s supposed to be waiting for me outside.”
Imma would know enough about Alastor. He was...well, she was not sure how to describe him. They’d met as young children, before he’d gone away to Athenia to pursue his passions as a scholar. And over the years, their friendship had...well, she was not sure how to describe it. She’d longed for his letters, had agreed to meeting in secret in her brother’s province, and ultimately enjoyed his company. He was home now, on one of his few reprieves from Athenia -- and she had invited him here tonight. Perhaps she lacked that authority, but she could sneak him in and then who would question his presence? Especially if she stayed near.
The brunette turned, setting her blue gaze on the doors leading out to the gardens. She had shown him a place where he could wait for her -- and she hurried now, holding up the rich burgundy of her chiton. She hurried out into the gardens, skirting the dark figures she could see at the fountain, and headed for the place where she had told him to be waiting. She approached the gate carefully, locked but not guarded. She opened it cautiously, careful not to let it shut behind her. Her gaze was trying to adjust the darkness here, and her voice was soft as she called out.
”Alastor?” She called, her voice a whisper in favor of trying not to get caught. ”Alastor, are you there?” She bit her lip, glancing around for a sign of him. Swathed in the rich hues of burgundy and gold, Sara looked far beyond her fifteen short years – and surprisingly it was not difficult at all to see the beauty of the woman she was becoming. The thick dark curls had been neatly pinned and tucked into an elegant style, sweeping off of her delicate neck to reveal the pale skin there. Tiny ivory blooms dotted her hair like stars, a personal touch that she had done herself. There was no doubt that in a few years, her beauty might rival her mother and sister if she were to care to try.
The sidelines of the party left behind, Sara laughed as Imma took the lead and began to pull her back towards the dance floor. Luckily for them both, it was an appropriate lively song and they were not the only same-sex couples taking each others’ hands and going out to be merry together. This was the point of the entire party, and something that Sara would remember forever -- the enjoyment of friends, family and the like. She caught sight of her father as she passed by with Imma, offering him a slight nod -- but not slowing enough so that he could deter her. She didn’t know what he might think of it. He had always been so stiff, so worried about family image. Perhaps he’d think her childish for drawing her friend out for a dance, or perhaps he would see it as a way to solidify relations with the Leventi family further.
Her father behind her, Sara turned her attention back to Imma and the dance that they would take part in. ”It’s not difficult.” She said. ”This one is a little less formal, luckily for us both.” She did however, draw Imma’s hands close before pushing her out again to make the blonde twirl in a circle. It was fun. She was having fun and all of the worry of being prim and proper, saying the right things or doing the right things seemed to dissipate and she allowed herself to have fun with her best friend.
She was breathless once it drew to an end -- bringing a hand to her brow as she tried to catch her breath. ”That was perfect.” She said, her voice wispy with how out of breath she was. Her carefully pinned hair had a few strands falling loose from it. And then suddenly, she straightened as she remembered something so very important. She had completely forgotten all about it when Achilleas had approached her to ask for a dance. She reached out to Imma, setting a hand on her shoulder and pulling her close to whisper in her ear. ”I’ll come right back.” She promised. ”I invited Alastor, he’s supposed to be waiting for me outside.”
Imma would know enough about Alastor. He was...well, she was not sure how to describe him. They’d met as young children, before he’d gone away to Athenia to pursue his passions as a scholar. And over the years, their friendship had...well, she was not sure how to describe it. She’d longed for his letters, had agreed to meeting in secret in her brother’s province, and ultimately enjoyed his company. He was home now, on one of his few reprieves from Athenia -- and she had invited him here tonight. Perhaps she lacked that authority, but she could sneak him in and then who would question his presence? Especially if she stayed near.
The brunette turned, setting her blue gaze on the doors leading out to the gardens. She had shown him a place where he could wait for her -- and she hurried now, holding up the rich burgundy of her chiton. She hurried out into the gardens, skirting the dark figures she could see at the fountain, and headed for the place where she had told him to be waiting. She approached the gate carefully, locked but not guarded. She opened it cautiously, careful not to let it shut behind her. Her gaze was trying to adjust the darkness here, and her voice was soft as she called out.
”Alastor?” She called, her voice a whisper in favor of trying not to get caught. ”Alastor, are you there?” She bit her lip, glancing around for a sign of him. Swathed in the rich hues of burgundy and gold, Sara looked far beyond her fifteen short years – and surprisingly it was not difficult at all to see the beauty of the woman she was becoming. The thick dark curls had been neatly pinned and tucked into an elegant style, sweeping off of her delicate neck to reveal the pale skin there. Tiny ivory blooms dotted her hair like stars, a personal touch that she had done herself. There was no doubt that in a few years, her beauty might rival her mother and sister if she were to care to try.
Oh, shit.
Alastor didn't think that just a bit of cannabis wafting throughout his room would cause such a stir in him. Often enough in Athenia, when he did this, there would be a portcullis, and several people to share the fun with. Cannabis was one of the few things that helped Alastor mellow out and learn to enjoy the moment. He brought some with him on the trip from Athenia and it'd helped loosen the stress of the journey over. Now? Alastor took to it alone to let the world fall away so that he could enjoy the night with Sara without the nerves. He wanted her to smile and not be concerned about him, already taking enough of a risk in inviting him to begin with.
You can do this, he assured himself as he batted at the air, trying to coax the smoke out of the room and through the porticullis that was in the adjacent one. But, one could not tame smoke, and all the tussle with it caused was for him to inhale more and more of it. Not yet dressed, with his hair a mess and his stomach growling, Alastor was far too ill-prepared. After all, Sara had invited him to quite the event! He felt a hum of anticipation vibrate against his lips, the sensation bringing a sense of pleasure that rolled into laughter. Every feeling was extended, every moment drawn out as time seemed to pour sluggishly through a sieve. And yet... he knew that if he wasn't careful, that sieve would loosen and the sands would flow faster until he lost track of everything completely.
Get yourself together. Get ready. You've already taken your bath, you're clean... Just wash your face and put on some clothes. Try to impress her!
There was the stronger voice within Alastor that knocked on the door, a bravery allowed to flourish with the partaking of the cannabis. He always felt stronger, if slower. More resolute, but also with less conviction. Everything that the cannabis brought to him, it also took something away, serving as a double-edged blade that he'd weighed the consequences of ahead of time. It was worth it, to make Sara happy, to risk drawing her ire for showing up intoxicated.
It's not like it's alcohol. I can still think... slower, but that's fine. I've always thought faster than what was good for me, he assured himself as he splashed clean water from a wooden bowl against his face. Perfumed with flower petals, he brushed it over his arms, and into his hair, intent on drowning out the scent of the cannabis. But, there was no hiding the mottled red spider webs in his eyes. Once he'd washed up properly, he threw on a chiton, dyed a rich crimson but worn slightly with age. It was passed down from Xenatos, and while the cut was a quality one, it was slightly too large for Alastor, and he had to tie it with an additional fibulae at the waist for it to properly fit to him. Then, he threw on a himation, dyed obsidian and smoothed to a fine texture. A gift from a professor who'd taken a shine to Alastor, he wore it proudly now.
Quite pleased with his little ensemble, he threw together a simple pair of reed sandals and made his way to the gate. Alastor made good time on his trek to Archontiko Mikaelidas, altogether satisfied and happy to be included. He found it strange, for it to be unguarded, but he supposed it scarcely mattered since all of the important people were inside the archontiko itself.
"Alastor? Alastor, are you there?" he heard a familiar voice call out. He wore a goofy smile upon his lips as he felt the tick in his chest pick up a beat. Sara was dressed in a lovely ensemble, and he was becoming more and more aware of just how pretty she looked. He'd always thought her to be cute, but this? It was funny how both of them were adults now, a thought that was laid by the wayside by the grandeur of the archontiko behind them. It was Alastor that reached for Sara's hand, threading through the gate as he flashed a grin at the girl. He hoped that the cover of darkness would hide the redness in his eyes, then slowed his pace.
"Of course I am. I promised you I'd show up, didn't I? Promises are important," he reasoned, a faint echo of memory at the promise he'd made to her all those years ago. He shrugged off the thought, his smile growing as he said,
"Lead the way, my lady," a playful sort of lilt in his voice.
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Oh, shit.
Alastor didn't think that just a bit of cannabis wafting throughout his room would cause such a stir in him. Often enough in Athenia, when he did this, there would be a portcullis, and several people to share the fun with. Cannabis was one of the few things that helped Alastor mellow out and learn to enjoy the moment. He brought some with him on the trip from Athenia and it'd helped loosen the stress of the journey over. Now? Alastor took to it alone to let the world fall away so that he could enjoy the night with Sara without the nerves. He wanted her to smile and not be concerned about him, already taking enough of a risk in inviting him to begin with.
You can do this, he assured himself as he batted at the air, trying to coax the smoke out of the room and through the porticullis that was in the adjacent one. But, one could not tame smoke, and all the tussle with it caused was for him to inhale more and more of it. Not yet dressed, with his hair a mess and his stomach growling, Alastor was far too ill-prepared. After all, Sara had invited him to quite the event! He felt a hum of anticipation vibrate against his lips, the sensation bringing a sense of pleasure that rolled into laughter. Every feeling was extended, every moment drawn out as time seemed to pour sluggishly through a sieve. And yet... he knew that if he wasn't careful, that sieve would loosen and the sands would flow faster until he lost track of everything completely.
Get yourself together. Get ready. You've already taken your bath, you're clean... Just wash your face and put on some clothes. Try to impress her!
There was the stronger voice within Alastor that knocked on the door, a bravery allowed to flourish with the partaking of the cannabis. He always felt stronger, if slower. More resolute, but also with less conviction. Everything that the cannabis brought to him, it also took something away, serving as a double-edged blade that he'd weighed the consequences of ahead of time. It was worth it, to make Sara happy, to risk drawing her ire for showing up intoxicated.
It's not like it's alcohol. I can still think... slower, but that's fine. I've always thought faster than what was good for me, he assured himself as he splashed clean water from a wooden bowl against his face. Perfumed with flower petals, he brushed it over his arms, and into his hair, intent on drowning out the scent of the cannabis. But, there was no hiding the mottled red spider webs in his eyes. Once he'd washed up properly, he threw on a chiton, dyed a rich crimson but worn slightly with age. It was passed down from Xenatos, and while the cut was a quality one, it was slightly too large for Alastor, and he had to tie it with an additional fibulae at the waist for it to properly fit to him. Then, he threw on a himation, dyed obsidian and smoothed to a fine texture. A gift from a professor who'd taken a shine to Alastor, he wore it proudly now.
Quite pleased with his little ensemble, he threw together a simple pair of reed sandals and made his way to the gate. Alastor made good time on his trek to Archontiko Mikaelidas, altogether satisfied and happy to be included. He found it strange, for it to be unguarded, but he supposed it scarcely mattered since all of the important people were inside the archontiko itself.
"Alastor? Alastor, are you there?" he heard a familiar voice call out. He wore a goofy smile upon his lips as he felt the tick in his chest pick up a beat. Sara was dressed in a lovely ensemble, and he was becoming more and more aware of just how pretty she looked. He'd always thought her to be cute, but this? It was funny how both of them were adults now, a thought that was laid by the wayside by the grandeur of the archontiko behind them. It was Alastor that reached for Sara's hand, threading through the gate as he flashed a grin at the girl. He hoped that the cover of darkness would hide the redness in his eyes, then slowed his pace.
"Of course I am. I promised you I'd show up, didn't I? Promises are important," he reasoned, a faint echo of memory at the promise he'd made to her all those years ago. He shrugged off the thought, his smile growing as he said,
"Lead the way, my lady," a playful sort of lilt in his voice.
Oh, shit.
Alastor didn't think that just a bit of cannabis wafting throughout his room would cause such a stir in him. Often enough in Athenia, when he did this, there would be a portcullis, and several people to share the fun with. Cannabis was one of the few things that helped Alastor mellow out and learn to enjoy the moment. He brought some with him on the trip from Athenia and it'd helped loosen the stress of the journey over. Now? Alastor took to it alone to let the world fall away so that he could enjoy the night with Sara without the nerves. He wanted her to smile and not be concerned about him, already taking enough of a risk in inviting him to begin with.
You can do this, he assured himself as he batted at the air, trying to coax the smoke out of the room and through the porticullis that was in the adjacent one. But, one could not tame smoke, and all the tussle with it caused was for him to inhale more and more of it. Not yet dressed, with his hair a mess and his stomach growling, Alastor was far too ill-prepared. After all, Sara had invited him to quite the event! He felt a hum of anticipation vibrate against his lips, the sensation bringing a sense of pleasure that rolled into laughter. Every feeling was extended, every moment drawn out as time seemed to pour sluggishly through a sieve. And yet... he knew that if he wasn't careful, that sieve would loosen and the sands would flow faster until he lost track of everything completely.
Get yourself together. Get ready. You've already taken your bath, you're clean... Just wash your face and put on some clothes. Try to impress her!
There was the stronger voice within Alastor that knocked on the door, a bravery allowed to flourish with the partaking of the cannabis. He always felt stronger, if slower. More resolute, but also with less conviction. Everything that the cannabis brought to him, it also took something away, serving as a double-edged blade that he'd weighed the consequences of ahead of time. It was worth it, to make Sara happy, to risk drawing her ire for showing up intoxicated.
It's not like it's alcohol. I can still think... slower, but that's fine. I've always thought faster than what was good for me, he assured himself as he splashed clean water from a wooden bowl against his face. Perfumed with flower petals, he brushed it over his arms, and into his hair, intent on drowning out the scent of the cannabis. But, there was no hiding the mottled red spider webs in his eyes. Once he'd washed up properly, he threw on a chiton, dyed a rich crimson but worn slightly with age. It was passed down from Xenatos, and while the cut was a quality one, it was slightly too large for Alastor, and he had to tie it with an additional fibulae at the waist for it to properly fit to him. Then, he threw on a himation, dyed obsidian and smoothed to a fine texture. A gift from a professor who'd taken a shine to Alastor, he wore it proudly now.
Quite pleased with his little ensemble, he threw together a simple pair of reed sandals and made his way to the gate. Alastor made good time on his trek to Archontiko Mikaelidas, altogether satisfied and happy to be included. He found it strange, for it to be unguarded, but he supposed it scarcely mattered since all of the important people were inside the archontiko itself.
"Alastor? Alastor, are you there?" he heard a familiar voice call out. He wore a goofy smile upon his lips as he felt the tick in his chest pick up a beat. Sara was dressed in a lovely ensemble, and he was becoming more and more aware of just how pretty she looked. He'd always thought her to be cute, but this? It was funny how both of them were adults now, a thought that was laid by the wayside by the grandeur of the archontiko behind them. It was Alastor that reached for Sara's hand, threading through the gate as he flashed a grin at the girl. He hoped that the cover of darkness would hide the redness in his eyes, then slowed his pace.
"Of course I am. I promised you I'd show up, didn't I? Promises are important," he reasoned, a faint echo of memory at the promise he'd made to her all those years ago. He shrugged off the thought, his smile growing as he said,
"Lead the way, my lady," a playful sort of lilt in his voice.
’ I have to express to you, Lord Nikos, that having your fortune told is a rather pointed delight. In another lifetime, I think I could have been one.’
Nikos lifted a brow and tilted his gaze to the princess. ”A fortune teller? An interesting thought, Princess Xene. I imagine that would be an interesting, but burdensome life indeed.” Nikos’ gaze wandered the garden as they walked, admiring the flowers and plants they passed. He really wanted to get back inside – back in the light and away from the prince and his certainly devious plans.
‘What is the story behind the fountain, your highness?’ Of course Achilleas would encourage Stephanos in this ruse.
’Oh. Yes. I want to hear a story.’ The princess as well? Oh, come on!
’It is a story we all should know, if we were move devout…’
Prince Stephanos began to sound excited as he started in one his little tale. Nikos was prepared to listen and follow along with the charade… until Stephanos insisted that he would need him to help with the telling. With Stephanos’ hand hovering about his shoulder, Nik let his gaze shift from the prince, to his sister, to Achilleas. Finally, he looked back to the prince, his blue eyes narrowed suspiciously on the man. Nik had no doubt that the prince would lay that hovering hand on his shoulder and force him into obeying the ‘suggestion.’ Oh, how he despised being trapped and forced by such things as station. One day. One day he would be prince and then king and he would not be compelled by such fools as Stephanos. He let out an audible breath, out through his nose, and moved to stand where Stephanos had instructed.
’ Yes, just there. Now turn around. You’ll be our Narcissios, the son of Narcissus, so the tales go. …’
A tic started in the baron’s clenched jaw; his fists balled up at his sides. But again, he did as he was told. As Stephanos continued weaving his little tale, Nikos’ thoughts were focused on how to escape this situation. At least with his back turned to the other three, Nikos could allow the aggravation he was feeling cloud his expression. Then Stephanos was standing next to him. Nikos turned his head to look at the prince as he was attempting to emulate the god Apollo. Arrogant. ’ Apollo says to Narcissios, ‘Put thine face against the waters, and I swear all eyes will be drawn towards you and your name will be upon every tongue.’ ‘
”Really, your highness, this is not –" Nikos turned to face Stephanos; the baron tried to protest, to decline. But the prince was hearing none of that it seemed.
’Go on, Narcissios. Put your face to the water…’
Nikos narrowed his eyes dangerously as he once again faced the fountain. He bent at the waist, bracing himself with his hands on the ledge, and peered into the water. He bent his elbows and slowly lowered his face so close to the surface that his nose was very nearly piercing the surface. Nikos heard the shuffle of feet to his left and suddenly he was sailing face first into the water, his breath knocked from his lungs from the impact of something slamming into him. Soaked through, and sputtering from water surging up his nose, Nikos came managing to bring himself to a sitting position in the slow churning fountain. The sound of mocking laughter filled his ears as he wiped the water from his face. He cut a glaring look to Stephanos. ”We both know that was no accident, your highness.” Nikos scrambled to his feet and sloshed through the water to the edge of the fountain. He wanted desperately to tackle the prince and send him under the water. Maybe hold him there a while. His temper was fuming, and he very nearly gave in to it and did just that. But he looked up as he started to turn back for the prince and his eyes landed on Achilleas and Xene. Witnesses. Did he really care? His father’s face popped into his mind. His voice telling him that his ambitions and temper were going to cost him his head one day.
Growling under his breath, Nikos pulled himself from the fountain. Once on dry ground again, he looked down at his ruined chiton. ”I hope you’ve all had your fun. Though next time I pray that it will not be at your expense that someone finds a laugh.” As he spoke, Nikos gathered a handful of the flowing fabric of his chiton and wrung out a might bit of water. His jaw was clenched tight, the muscles working in his cheek. He dropped the fabric and let his hard gaze land on each of them. ”If you all will excuse me. I seem to be in need of a change of clothes.” He forced a curt bow. Oh, how he despised his cousins. Standing back to his full height, Nikos turned on his heel to leave them to their laughter. He would get them back for this. Everyone always seemed to underestimate Nikos of Condos. He would always find a way.
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’ I have to express to you, Lord Nikos, that having your fortune told is a rather pointed delight. In another lifetime, I think I could have been one.’
Nikos lifted a brow and tilted his gaze to the princess. ”A fortune teller? An interesting thought, Princess Xene. I imagine that would be an interesting, but burdensome life indeed.” Nikos’ gaze wandered the garden as they walked, admiring the flowers and plants they passed. He really wanted to get back inside – back in the light and away from the prince and his certainly devious plans.
‘What is the story behind the fountain, your highness?’ Of course Achilleas would encourage Stephanos in this ruse.
’Oh. Yes. I want to hear a story.’ The princess as well? Oh, come on!
’It is a story we all should know, if we were move devout…’
Prince Stephanos began to sound excited as he started in one his little tale. Nikos was prepared to listen and follow along with the charade… until Stephanos insisted that he would need him to help with the telling. With Stephanos’ hand hovering about his shoulder, Nik let his gaze shift from the prince, to his sister, to Achilleas. Finally, he looked back to the prince, his blue eyes narrowed suspiciously on the man. Nik had no doubt that the prince would lay that hovering hand on his shoulder and force him into obeying the ‘suggestion.’ Oh, how he despised being trapped and forced by such things as station. One day. One day he would be prince and then king and he would not be compelled by such fools as Stephanos. He let out an audible breath, out through his nose, and moved to stand where Stephanos had instructed.
’ Yes, just there. Now turn around. You’ll be our Narcissios, the son of Narcissus, so the tales go. …’
A tic started in the baron’s clenched jaw; his fists balled up at his sides. But again, he did as he was told. As Stephanos continued weaving his little tale, Nikos’ thoughts were focused on how to escape this situation. At least with his back turned to the other three, Nikos could allow the aggravation he was feeling cloud his expression. Then Stephanos was standing next to him. Nikos turned his head to look at the prince as he was attempting to emulate the god Apollo. Arrogant. ’ Apollo says to Narcissios, ‘Put thine face against the waters, and I swear all eyes will be drawn towards you and your name will be upon every tongue.’ ‘
”Really, your highness, this is not –" Nikos turned to face Stephanos; the baron tried to protest, to decline. But the prince was hearing none of that it seemed.
’Go on, Narcissios. Put your face to the water…’
Nikos narrowed his eyes dangerously as he once again faced the fountain. He bent at the waist, bracing himself with his hands on the ledge, and peered into the water. He bent his elbows and slowly lowered his face so close to the surface that his nose was very nearly piercing the surface. Nikos heard the shuffle of feet to his left and suddenly he was sailing face first into the water, his breath knocked from his lungs from the impact of something slamming into him. Soaked through, and sputtering from water surging up his nose, Nikos came managing to bring himself to a sitting position in the slow churning fountain. The sound of mocking laughter filled his ears as he wiped the water from his face. He cut a glaring look to Stephanos. ”We both know that was no accident, your highness.” Nikos scrambled to his feet and sloshed through the water to the edge of the fountain. He wanted desperately to tackle the prince and send him under the water. Maybe hold him there a while. His temper was fuming, and he very nearly gave in to it and did just that. But he looked up as he started to turn back for the prince and his eyes landed on Achilleas and Xene. Witnesses. Did he really care? His father’s face popped into his mind. His voice telling him that his ambitions and temper were going to cost him his head one day.
Growling under his breath, Nikos pulled himself from the fountain. Once on dry ground again, he looked down at his ruined chiton. ”I hope you’ve all had your fun. Though next time I pray that it will not be at your expense that someone finds a laugh.” As he spoke, Nikos gathered a handful of the flowing fabric of his chiton and wrung out a might bit of water. His jaw was clenched tight, the muscles working in his cheek. He dropped the fabric and let his hard gaze land on each of them. ”If you all will excuse me. I seem to be in need of a change of clothes.” He forced a curt bow. Oh, how he despised his cousins. Standing back to his full height, Nikos turned on his heel to leave them to their laughter. He would get them back for this. Everyone always seemed to underestimate Nikos of Condos. He would always find a way.
’ I have to express to you, Lord Nikos, that having your fortune told is a rather pointed delight. In another lifetime, I think I could have been one.’
Nikos lifted a brow and tilted his gaze to the princess. ”A fortune teller? An interesting thought, Princess Xene. I imagine that would be an interesting, but burdensome life indeed.” Nikos’ gaze wandered the garden as they walked, admiring the flowers and plants they passed. He really wanted to get back inside – back in the light and away from the prince and his certainly devious plans.
‘What is the story behind the fountain, your highness?’ Of course Achilleas would encourage Stephanos in this ruse.
’Oh. Yes. I want to hear a story.’ The princess as well? Oh, come on!
’It is a story we all should know, if we were move devout…’
Prince Stephanos began to sound excited as he started in one his little tale. Nikos was prepared to listen and follow along with the charade… until Stephanos insisted that he would need him to help with the telling. With Stephanos’ hand hovering about his shoulder, Nik let his gaze shift from the prince, to his sister, to Achilleas. Finally, he looked back to the prince, his blue eyes narrowed suspiciously on the man. Nik had no doubt that the prince would lay that hovering hand on his shoulder and force him into obeying the ‘suggestion.’ Oh, how he despised being trapped and forced by such things as station. One day. One day he would be prince and then king and he would not be compelled by such fools as Stephanos. He let out an audible breath, out through his nose, and moved to stand where Stephanos had instructed.
’ Yes, just there. Now turn around. You’ll be our Narcissios, the son of Narcissus, so the tales go. …’
A tic started in the baron’s clenched jaw; his fists balled up at his sides. But again, he did as he was told. As Stephanos continued weaving his little tale, Nikos’ thoughts were focused on how to escape this situation. At least with his back turned to the other three, Nikos could allow the aggravation he was feeling cloud his expression. Then Stephanos was standing next to him. Nikos turned his head to look at the prince as he was attempting to emulate the god Apollo. Arrogant. ’ Apollo says to Narcissios, ‘Put thine face against the waters, and I swear all eyes will be drawn towards you and your name will be upon every tongue.’ ‘
”Really, your highness, this is not –" Nikos turned to face Stephanos; the baron tried to protest, to decline. But the prince was hearing none of that it seemed.
’Go on, Narcissios. Put your face to the water…’
Nikos narrowed his eyes dangerously as he once again faced the fountain. He bent at the waist, bracing himself with his hands on the ledge, and peered into the water. He bent his elbows and slowly lowered his face so close to the surface that his nose was very nearly piercing the surface. Nikos heard the shuffle of feet to his left and suddenly he was sailing face first into the water, his breath knocked from his lungs from the impact of something slamming into him. Soaked through, and sputtering from water surging up his nose, Nikos came managing to bring himself to a sitting position in the slow churning fountain. The sound of mocking laughter filled his ears as he wiped the water from his face. He cut a glaring look to Stephanos. ”We both know that was no accident, your highness.” Nikos scrambled to his feet and sloshed through the water to the edge of the fountain. He wanted desperately to tackle the prince and send him under the water. Maybe hold him there a while. His temper was fuming, and he very nearly gave in to it and did just that. But he looked up as he started to turn back for the prince and his eyes landed on Achilleas and Xene. Witnesses. Did he really care? His father’s face popped into his mind. His voice telling him that his ambitions and temper were going to cost him his head one day.
Growling under his breath, Nikos pulled himself from the fountain. Once on dry ground again, he looked down at his ruined chiton. ”I hope you’ve all had your fun. Though next time I pray that it will not be at your expense that someone finds a laugh.” As he spoke, Nikos gathered a handful of the flowing fabric of his chiton and wrung out a might bit of water. His jaw was clenched tight, the muscles working in his cheek. He dropped the fabric and let his hard gaze land on each of them. ”If you all will excuse me. I seem to be in need of a change of clothes.” He forced a curt bow. Oh, how he despised his cousins. Standing back to his full height, Nikos turned on his heel to leave them to their laughter. He would get them back for this. Everyone always seemed to underestimate Nikos of Condos. He would always find a way.
Imma’s grin faded a bit when they passed Sara’s father. He was even scarier than her Uncle Fotios and she was glad that he did not cast a disapproving glance their way. If he had, she would probably have dropped her best friend’s hand and ran back to the solace of her corner. She felt quite daring as they approached the dance floor. This would be the first dance she had ever taken part in and she was happy that Sara was her partner and not some nobleman her mother would want her to impress. It was most likely Sara’s first dance too. What better way to learn than to practice together?
They weren’t the only two girls dancing with each other. There were some men partnering on another too. There were no unwritten rules for Greek dances that specified one could only dance with a person of the opposite sex. Most of them were quite informal and the point was to have fun, no matter who you were with. Imma wondered if her sisters or parents saw her. She couldn’t spot any of them in the crowd, which was just as well. “Yes,” I know this one,” she told Sara. “It’s a good one to start with."
She laughed when Sara twirled her around. Her platinum curls fanned out behind her and bounced merrily against her back. Stepping close to her friend, she returned the favor so that Sara could spin happily in a circle. The dance was quite thrilling, and Imma leapt, hopped, and whirled with more enthusiasm than grace. She noticed a few spectators looking their way, hopefully in admiration or even envy. Imma had always avoided dancing before, but she found it so much fun she definitely wanted to do it again and again and again.
The dance came to an end too soon. “Yes, it was.” she agreed. “I think you are the best dance partner I will ever have. Perhaps we can do this at every ball we attend.” Imma’s porcelain cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of rose from the exertion, and errant ringlets had escaped from her coiffure to bounce over her shoulders. She was about to suggest that they go find some refreshments when Sara pulled her close and whispered in her ear.
“So I’ll finally get to meet the mysterious Alastor?” she teased her friend. “I can hardly wait.” Imma had heard a lot about the boy over the years but she had never even seen him from a distance. As a little girl, she had thought that he was Sara’s imaginary friend, but the two of them had long since grown out of such childish games. Indicating a table laden with delicacies, she added: “I’ll be over there. All that dancing made me hungry.”
She watched Sara’s retreating back, wondering if she and Alastor were just friends or if they fancied each other. I guess I’ll soon find out.
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Imma’s grin faded a bit when they passed Sara’s father. He was even scarier than her Uncle Fotios and she was glad that he did not cast a disapproving glance their way. If he had, she would probably have dropped her best friend’s hand and ran back to the solace of her corner. She felt quite daring as they approached the dance floor. This would be the first dance she had ever taken part in and she was happy that Sara was her partner and not some nobleman her mother would want her to impress. It was most likely Sara’s first dance too. What better way to learn than to practice together?
They weren’t the only two girls dancing with each other. There were some men partnering on another too. There were no unwritten rules for Greek dances that specified one could only dance with a person of the opposite sex. Most of them were quite informal and the point was to have fun, no matter who you were with. Imma wondered if her sisters or parents saw her. She couldn’t spot any of them in the crowd, which was just as well. “Yes,” I know this one,” she told Sara. “It’s a good one to start with."
She laughed when Sara twirled her around. Her platinum curls fanned out behind her and bounced merrily against her back. Stepping close to her friend, she returned the favor so that Sara could spin happily in a circle. The dance was quite thrilling, and Imma leapt, hopped, and whirled with more enthusiasm than grace. She noticed a few spectators looking their way, hopefully in admiration or even envy. Imma had always avoided dancing before, but she found it so much fun she definitely wanted to do it again and again and again.
The dance came to an end too soon. “Yes, it was.” she agreed. “I think you are the best dance partner I will ever have. Perhaps we can do this at every ball we attend.” Imma’s porcelain cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of rose from the exertion, and errant ringlets had escaped from her coiffure to bounce over her shoulders. She was about to suggest that they go find some refreshments when Sara pulled her close and whispered in her ear.
“So I’ll finally get to meet the mysterious Alastor?” she teased her friend. “I can hardly wait.” Imma had heard a lot about the boy over the years but she had never even seen him from a distance. As a little girl, she had thought that he was Sara’s imaginary friend, but the two of them had long since grown out of such childish games. Indicating a table laden with delicacies, she added: “I’ll be over there. All that dancing made me hungry.”
She watched Sara’s retreating back, wondering if she and Alastor were just friends or if they fancied each other. I guess I’ll soon find out.
Imma’s grin faded a bit when they passed Sara’s father. He was even scarier than her Uncle Fotios and she was glad that he did not cast a disapproving glance their way. If he had, she would probably have dropped her best friend’s hand and ran back to the solace of her corner. She felt quite daring as they approached the dance floor. This would be the first dance she had ever taken part in and she was happy that Sara was her partner and not some nobleman her mother would want her to impress. It was most likely Sara’s first dance too. What better way to learn than to practice together?
They weren’t the only two girls dancing with each other. There were some men partnering on another too. There were no unwritten rules for Greek dances that specified one could only dance with a person of the opposite sex. Most of them were quite informal and the point was to have fun, no matter who you were with. Imma wondered if her sisters or parents saw her. She couldn’t spot any of them in the crowd, which was just as well. “Yes,” I know this one,” she told Sara. “It’s a good one to start with."
She laughed when Sara twirled her around. Her platinum curls fanned out behind her and bounced merrily against her back. Stepping close to her friend, she returned the favor so that Sara could spin happily in a circle. The dance was quite thrilling, and Imma leapt, hopped, and whirled with more enthusiasm than grace. She noticed a few spectators looking their way, hopefully in admiration or even envy. Imma had always avoided dancing before, but she found it so much fun she definitely wanted to do it again and again and again.
The dance came to an end too soon. “Yes, it was.” she agreed. “I think you are the best dance partner I will ever have. Perhaps we can do this at every ball we attend.” Imma’s porcelain cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of rose from the exertion, and errant ringlets had escaped from her coiffure to bounce over her shoulders. She was about to suggest that they go find some refreshments when Sara pulled her close and whispered in her ear.
“So I’ll finally get to meet the mysterious Alastor?” she teased her friend. “I can hardly wait.” Imma had heard a lot about the boy over the years but she had never even seen him from a distance. As a little girl, she had thought that he was Sara’s imaginary friend, but the two of them had long since grown out of such childish games. Indicating a table laden with delicacies, she added: “I’ll be over there. All that dancing made me hungry.”
She watched Sara’s retreating back, wondering if she and Alastor were just friends or if they fancied each other. I guess I’ll soon find out.
If Lord Nikos had been a more pleasant fellow then Achilleas would likely have felt obliged to at least politely suggest to his cousin that this was one of his patented bad ideas. But there was no love lost between he and the Condos heir, and so for once, Achilleas let his more sensible side be silenced, even went so far as to set Stephanos up nicely to tell his story. He did keep a fair few paces back from the edge of the fountain, far enough that he could claim plausible deniability for actually having a hand in whatever was to transpire. Possibly.
The Princess Xene played along too, their combined efforts dovetailing to give Steph exactly the opening he needed, and Achilleas could not help but think how perfectly cast Nikos was as Narcissios. Vain and clever. Add in smarmy and you had a displeasing combination if ever there was one.
Lord Nikos clearly knew he was being set up, but there was a certain helplessness when it was a prince of the realm imploring you to play along, and for a flicker, Achilleas hesitated. The Condos Lord looked less than amused already, and if he was annoyed now, he was going to be furious by the time Stephanos was done.
Perhaps they shouldn’t....
‘“Go on, Narcissios. Put your face to the water’
“Stephanos” he opened his mouth to caution his cousin that moment too late, the sound of a splash and the cascade of water droplets heralding the prince’s and Nikos’ descent into the fountain, and Achilleas bit back a shock of laughter even though he knew it had been coming. Stephanos looked so absurdly pleased with himself and Nikos...well, Nikos did not.
Achilleas tensed because for a moment he wondered if the Condos Lord was about to take leave of his senses and launch himself at the prince. He would have been on him and hauling him off before he could do any real damage but that would change the flavour of the evening to something he would rather avoid. The Mikaedldas Lord had a taken a half step forward, halting when Nikos glanced at him and then Xene and seemed to gather some control of himself, slopping wetly from the fountain and wringing out his drenched clothes. He looked like he’d been for a swim, water running in rivulets down his face, that artfully coiffed hair slapping wetly across his forehead.
It was a hard-won battled for Achilleas to keep his expression neutral, his lips pressed together tightly as the man scolded them. Not until the bedraggled lord had moved to stomp off did he speak, calling out a half-hearted ‘Lord Condos...wait. I can have the staff find you something dry to wear if you wish” He supposed it was the least he could do, he supposed. And he did not wish for the other man to go complaining about how ungraciously he’d been treated in his father’s house. “You too” he added to Stephanos, eyeing the soggy prince.
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If Lord Nikos had been a more pleasant fellow then Achilleas would likely have felt obliged to at least politely suggest to his cousin that this was one of his patented bad ideas. But there was no love lost between he and the Condos heir, and so for once, Achilleas let his more sensible side be silenced, even went so far as to set Stephanos up nicely to tell his story. He did keep a fair few paces back from the edge of the fountain, far enough that he could claim plausible deniability for actually having a hand in whatever was to transpire. Possibly.
The Princess Xene played along too, their combined efforts dovetailing to give Steph exactly the opening he needed, and Achilleas could not help but think how perfectly cast Nikos was as Narcissios. Vain and clever. Add in smarmy and you had a displeasing combination if ever there was one.
Lord Nikos clearly knew he was being set up, but there was a certain helplessness when it was a prince of the realm imploring you to play along, and for a flicker, Achilleas hesitated. The Condos Lord looked less than amused already, and if he was annoyed now, he was going to be furious by the time Stephanos was done.
Perhaps they shouldn’t....
‘“Go on, Narcissios. Put your face to the water’
“Stephanos” he opened his mouth to caution his cousin that moment too late, the sound of a splash and the cascade of water droplets heralding the prince’s and Nikos’ descent into the fountain, and Achilleas bit back a shock of laughter even though he knew it had been coming. Stephanos looked so absurdly pleased with himself and Nikos...well, Nikos did not.
Achilleas tensed because for a moment he wondered if the Condos Lord was about to take leave of his senses and launch himself at the prince. He would have been on him and hauling him off before he could do any real damage but that would change the flavour of the evening to something he would rather avoid. The Mikaedldas Lord had a taken a half step forward, halting when Nikos glanced at him and then Xene and seemed to gather some control of himself, slopping wetly from the fountain and wringing out his drenched clothes. He looked like he’d been for a swim, water running in rivulets down his face, that artfully coiffed hair slapping wetly across his forehead.
It was a hard-won battled for Achilleas to keep his expression neutral, his lips pressed together tightly as the man scolded them. Not until the bedraggled lord had moved to stomp off did he speak, calling out a half-hearted ‘Lord Condos...wait. I can have the staff find you something dry to wear if you wish” He supposed it was the least he could do, he supposed. And he did not wish for the other man to go complaining about how ungraciously he’d been treated in his father’s house. “You too” he added to Stephanos, eyeing the soggy prince.
If Lord Nikos had been a more pleasant fellow then Achilleas would likely have felt obliged to at least politely suggest to his cousin that this was one of his patented bad ideas. But there was no love lost between he and the Condos heir, and so for once, Achilleas let his more sensible side be silenced, even went so far as to set Stephanos up nicely to tell his story. He did keep a fair few paces back from the edge of the fountain, far enough that he could claim plausible deniability for actually having a hand in whatever was to transpire. Possibly.
The Princess Xene played along too, their combined efforts dovetailing to give Steph exactly the opening he needed, and Achilleas could not help but think how perfectly cast Nikos was as Narcissios. Vain and clever. Add in smarmy and you had a displeasing combination if ever there was one.
Lord Nikos clearly knew he was being set up, but there was a certain helplessness when it was a prince of the realm imploring you to play along, and for a flicker, Achilleas hesitated. The Condos Lord looked less than amused already, and if he was annoyed now, he was going to be furious by the time Stephanos was done.
Perhaps they shouldn’t....
‘“Go on, Narcissios. Put your face to the water’
“Stephanos” he opened his mouth to caution his cousin that moment too late, the sound of a splash and the cascade of water droplets heralding the prince’s and Nikos’ descent into the fountain, and Achilleas bit back a shock of laughter even though he knew it had been coming. Stephanos looked so absurdly pleased with himself and Nikos...well, Nikos did not.
Achilleas tensed because for a moment he wondered if the Condos Lord was about to take leave of his senses and launch himself at the prince. He would have been on him and hauling him off before he could do any real damage but that would change the flavour of the evening to something he would rather avoid. The Mikaedldas Lord had a taken a half step forward, halting when Nikos glanced at him and then Xene and seemed to gather some control of himself, slopping wetly from the fountain and wringing out his drenched clothes. He looked like he’d been for a swim, water running in rivulets down his face, that artfully coiffed hair slapping wetly across his forehead.
It was a hard-won battled for Achilleas to keep his expression neutral, his lips pressed together tightly as the man scolded them. Not until the bedraggled lord had moved to stomp off did he speak, calling out a half-hearted ‘Lord Condos...wait. I can have the staff find you something dry to wear if you wish” He supposed it was the least he could do, he supposed. And he did not wish for the other man to go complaining about how ungraciously he’d been treated in his father’s house. “You too” he added to Stephanos, eyeing the soggy prince.
Admittedly, Xene had not pictured a joke so cruel as the one that her brother was playing. But she was often one that liked to be attached to Stephanos' hip regardless of what the prince was doing at the time. She had been part of numerous pranks, but she didn't ever recall wishing such embarrassment on any members of the court. Not like this. And so publically. But she was in no place to scold her brother in the way that Achilleas might. She was keen on simply listening to the story, giving an almost serene smile to Lord Nikos until it faltered just the slightest bit when Stephanos instructed the man to put his face to the water.
Achilleas' and Xene's words were a mirrored utterance of "Stephanos," which fell on deaf ears. Once Stephanos got something into it his mind, it was often hard to turn him away. Besides, they'd let him get too far with his little joke and Xene was forced to look on with a mixed expression of both amusement and sudden horror of how far the three of them had gone to make a point. While Stephanos was likely to see the amusement that settled on Xene's features, she did not voice her own laughter. As funny as she found the situation, she felt equally riddled with guilt that this had happened at all.
The amusement faded and she put a neutral expression on her own features, noting with a sudden rush of her heartbeat that Nikos of Condos looked about ready to murder her brother in cold blood. But the only thing that had stopped him was the fact that both she and Achilleas were standing there. Silently, she stepped a little toward Nikos, just as Achilleas did, before turning to look at her elder brother. Generally supportive, Xene was also a voice of reason where Stephanos sometimes had none of his own.
"Don't you think that was a little too far over the line?" Xene asked in a hushed tone as Achilleas called after Nikos, offering him a new chiton to wear for the rest of the night. The most harrowing part was that Lord Nikos would not be able to hide that he had fallen into the fountain, nor was he likely to admit that anyone pushed him into it, either. If Lord Nikos were to keep his own honor, he would likely have to admit that he was taking a walk by the fountain and fell in on his own accord. That alone was embarrassing to admit when you were a noble.
As soon as Nikos was out of earshot, Xene sighed through her nose, "It was amusing, Steph," she soothed her earlier words, "But the enemies you make now are enemies we have in the future," she glanced back toward where Nikos had stormed off and frowned a little deeper. "Maybe one day I'll push you into a fountain and see how you like it," the princess huffed, glancing toward Achilleas. "Don't act like you or aren't complicit in this either," she muttered, shaking her golden curls. "We're just terrible people, I'm afraid. Yes, you too," she motioned at Achilleas. "Terrible," she enunciated in a teasing manner that immediately lightened the mood.
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Admittedly, Xene had not pictured a joke so cruel as the one that her brother was playing. But she was often one that liked to be attached to Stephanos' hip regardless of what the prince was doing at the time. She had been part of numerous pranks, but she didn't ever recall wishing such embarrassment on any members of the court. Not like this. And so publically. But she was in no place to scold her brother in the way that Achilleas might. She was keen on simply listening to the story, giving an almost serene smile to Lord Nikos until it faltered just the slightest bit when Stephanos instructed the man to put his face to the water.
Achilleas' and Xene's words were a mirrored utterance of "Stephanos," which fell on deaf ears. Once Stephanos got something into it his mind, it was often hard to turn him away. Besides, they'd let him get too far with his little joke and Xene was forced to look on with a mixed expression of both amusement and sudden horror of how far the three of them had gone to make a point. While Stephanos was likely to see the amusement that settled on Xene's features, she did not voice her own laughter. As funny as she found the situation, she felt equally riddled with guilt that this had happened at all.
The amusement faded and she put a neutral expression on her own features, noting with a sudden rush of her heartbeat that Nikos of Condos looked about ready to murder her brother in cold blood. But the only thing that had stopped him was the fact that both she and Achilleas were standing there. Silently, she stepped a little toward Nikos, just as Achilleas did, before turning to look at her elder brother. Generally supportive, Xene was also a voice of reason where Stephanos sometimes had none of his own.
"Don't you think that was a little too far over the line?" Xene asked in a hushed tone as Achilleas called after Nikos, offering him a new chiton to wear for the rest of the night. The most harrowing part was that Lord Nikos would not be able to hide that he had fallen into the fountain, nor was he likely to admit that anyone pushed him into it, either. If Lord Nikos were to keep his own honor, he would likely have to admit that he was taking a walk by the fountain and fell in on his own accord. That alone was embarrassing to admit when you were a noble.
As soon as Nikos was out of earshot, Xene sighed through her nose, "It was amusing, Steph," she soothed her earlier words, "But the enemies you make now are enemies we have in the future," she glanced back toward where Nikos had stormed off and frowned a little deeper. "Maybe one day I'll push you into a fountain and see how you like it," the princess huffed, glancing toward Achilleas. "Don't act like you or aren't complicit in this either," she muttered, shaking her golden curls. "We're just terrible people, I'm afraid. Yes, you too," she motioned at Achilleas. "Terrible," she enunciated in a teasing manner that immediately lightened the mood.
Admittedly, Xene had not pictured a joke so cruel as the one that her brother was playing. But she was often one that liked to be attached to Stephanos' hip regardless of what the prince was doing at the time. She had been part of numerous pranks, but she didn't ever recall wishing such embarrassment on any members of the court. Not like this. And so publically. But she was in no place to scold her brother in the way that Achilleas might. She was keen on simply listening to the story, giving an almost serene smile to Lord Nikos until it faltered just the slightest bit when Stephanos instructed the man to put his face to the water.
Achilleas' and Xene's words were a mirrored utterance of "Stephanos," which fell on deaf ears. Once Stephanos got something into it his mind, it was often hard to turn him away. Besides, they'd let him get too far with his little joke and Xene was forced to look on with a mixed expression of both amusement and sudden horror of how far the three of them had gone to make a point. While Stephanos was likely to see the amusement that settled on Xene's features, she did not voice her own laughter. As funny as she found the situation, she felt equally riddled with guilt that this had happened at all.
The amusement faded and she put a neutral expression on her own features, noting with a sudden rush of her heartbeat that Nikos of Condos looked about ready to murder her brother in cold blood. But the only thing that had stopped him was the fact that both she and Achilleas were standing there. Silently, she stepped a little toward Nikos, just as Achilleas did, before turning to look at her elder brother. Generally supportive, Xene was also a voice of reason where Stephanos sometimes had none of his own.
"Don't you think that was a little too far over the line?" Xene asked in a hushed tone as Achilleas called after Nikos, offering him a new chiton to wear for the rest of the night. The most harrowing part was that Lord Nikos would not be able to hide that he had fallen into the fountain, nor was he likely to admit that anyone pushed him into it, either. If Lord Nikos were to keep his own honor, he would likely have to admit that he was taking a walk by the fountain and fell in on his own accord. That alone was embarrassing to admit when you were a noble.
As soon as Nikos was out of earshot, Xene sighed through her nose, "It was amusing, Steph," she soothed her earlier words, "But the enemies you make now are enemies we have in the future," she glanced back toward where Nikos had stormed off and frowned a little deeper. "Maybe one day I'll push you into a fountain and see how you like it," the princess huffed, glancing toward Achilleas. "Don't act like you or aren't complicit in this either," she muttered, shaking her golden curls. "We're just terrible people, I'm afraid. Yes, you too," she motioned at Achilleas. "Terrible," she enunciated in a teasing manner that immediately lightened the mood.
Her eyes strained to see in the darkness, to cut through the blackness in search of a shape that she was not even sure was there. Her fingers gripped the iron of the gate, worried about accidentally locking herself out of the archontikos and having to go around the front to be let back in. She jumped with a gasp, her hair standing on end in fear as something reached out of the darkness to touch her hand -- and she worried for a split second that it might be some kind of spider or something, but then she heard Alastor’s voice. The fear fled her, and she felt her shoulder droop in relief as she looked up into the face of the boy that she had loved for as long as she could remember.
His grin warmed her, and she threaded her fingers through his as she pulled him to her for an embrace. Perhaps it was improper, perhaps it was forward but she could not help herself. Alastor had been a dear friend since her childhood, and now -- well, she wasn’t sure she could admit the feelings that she had for him. She was not sure that he felt the same, so she relied heavily on their years of friendship as a buffer between her feelings and admitting them to him.
”You scared me.” She said on a sigh, sounding simultaneously amused and annoyed. The annoyance was more at herself than anything, getting so scared by something as small as a touch. She was not sure of the unfamiliar smell that had entangled itself on him, mixing with what she knew uniquely belonged to him -- but it was not particularly overpowering.
”Promises are important.” She agreed, her arms still around his middle. The racing beat of her heart was finally starting to slow down, and she rocked back on her heels, giving his shoulder a playful shove before turning back towards the lights of the party.
She caught his hand again when he asked her to lead the way, drawing him with her back to the crowd. However, her pace was unhurried as she wanted to savor a little time alone with him before having to share his attention. ”I’m glad that you made it.” She said, a smile in her voice. ”The strangest thing happened.” She covered her mouth with her free hand to hide her laughter. ”Achilleas asked me to dance.” She looked back and up at him, raising her eyebrows in the shadows of the garden. Her voice was low so she wouldn’t be overheard, but it was no secret that her eldest brother had always held her at arm's length.
She was about to speak again when she heard a loud splash, her attention drawn where the fountains were. Glancing at Alastor, she raised a finger to her lips and quietly crept to a place where they could watch without being seen. It would require them to stand quite close to make it work, but the shrubbery should hide them both. The teenagers were just in time to see Lord Nikos Condos sitting in the fountain, surrounded by members of the Mikaelidas family. Her gaze flickered back to Alastor again, and she put a hand on his arm, a little unsure if they should be seeing this.
The young lord made his way out of the fountain, making a wet departure, before Sara tugged on her friend's arm to draw him away.
”We probably should keep that to ourselves.” She said in a hushed tone, before ushering them both off to the party. The image would bother her though, unsure what would prompt such a scene.
When they had reached the archways that would take them back inside, Sara turned to look at Alastor in the better light. She smiled, tilting her head a little. ”I think this is the fanciest thing I’ve ever seen you wear.” She said, tucking her hands behind her back. ”You clean up well, actually.” Sneaking him in had been a good idea.
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Her eyes strained to see in the darkness, to cut through the blackness in search of a shape that she was not even sure was there. Her fingers gripped the iron of the gate, worried about accidentally locking herself out of the archontikos and having to go around the front to be let back in. She jumped with a gasp, her hair standing on end in fear as something reached out of the darkness to touch her hand -- and she worried for a split second that it might be some kind of spider or something, but then she heard Alastor’s voice. The fear fled her, and she felt her shoulder droop in relief as she looked up into the face of the boy that she had loved for as long as she could remember.
His grin warmed her, and she threaded her fingers through his as she pulled him to her for an embrace. Perhaps it was improper, perhaps it was forward but she could not help herself. Alastor had been a dear friend since her childhood, and now -- well, she wasn’t sure she could admit the feelings that she had for him. She was not sure that he felt the same, so she relied heavily on their years of friendship as a buffer between her feelings and admitting them to him.
”You scared me.” She said on a sigh, sounding simultaneously amused and annoyed. The annoyance was more at herself than anything, getting so scared by something as small as a touch. She was not sure of the unfamiliar smell that had entangled itself on him, mixing with what she knew uniquely belonged to him -- but it was not particularly overpowering.
”Promises are important.” She agreed, her arms still around his middle. The racing beat of her heart was finally starting to slow down, and she rocked back on her heels, giving his shoulder a playful shove before turning back towards the lights of the party.
She caught his hand again when he asked her to lead the way, drawing him with her back to the crowd. However, her pace was unhurried as she wanted to savor a little time alone with him before having to share his attention. ”I’m glad that you made it.” She said, a smile in her voice. ”The strangest thing happened.” She covered her mouth with her free hand to hide her laughter. ”Achilleas asked me to dance.” She looked back and up at him, raising her eyebrows in the shadows of the garden. Her voice was low so she wouldn’t be overheard, but it was no secret that her eldest brother had always held her at arm's length.
She was about to speak again when she heard a loud splash, her attention drawn where the fountains were. Glancing at Alastor, she raised a finger to her lips and quietly crept to a place where they could watch without being seen. It would require them to stand quite close to make it work, but the shrubbery should hide them both. The teenagers were just in time to see Lord Nikos Condos sitting in the fountain, surrounded by members of the Mikaelidas family. Her gaze flickered back to Alastor again, and she put a hand on his arm, a little unsure if they should be seeing this.
The young lord made his way out of the fountain, making a wet departure, before Sara tugged on her friend's arm to draw him away.
”We probably should keep that to ourselves.” She said in a hushed tone, before ushering them both off to the party. The image would bother her though, unsure what would prompt such a scene.
When they had reached the archways that would take them back inside, Sara turned to look at Alastor in the better light. She smiled, tilting her head a little. ”I think this is the fanciest thing I’ve ever seen you wear.” She said, tucking her hands behind her back. ”You clean up well, actually.” Sneaking him in had been a good idea.
Her eyes strained to see in the darkness, to cut through the blackness in search of a shape that she was not even sure was there. Her fingers gripped the iron of the gate, worried about accidentally locking herself out of the archontikos and having to go around the front to be let back in. She jumped with a gasp, her hair standing on end in fear as something reached out of the darkness to touch her hand -- and she worried for a split second that it might be some kind of spider or something, but then she heard Alastor’s voice. The fear fled her, and she felt her shoulder droop in relief as she looked up into the face of the boy that she had loved for as long as she could remember.
His grin warmed her, and she threaded her fingers through his as she pulled him to her for an embrace. Perhaps it was improper, perhaps it was forward but she could not help herself. Alastor had been a dear friend since her childhood, and now -- well, she wasn’t sure she could admit the feelings that she had for him. She was not sure that he felt the same, so she relied heavily on their years of friendship as a buffer between her feelings and admitting them to him.
”You scared me.” She said on a sigh, sounding simultaneously amused and annoyed. The annoyance was more at herself than anything, getting so scared by something as small as a touch. She was not sure of the unfamiliar smell that had entangled itself on him, mixing with what she knew uniquely belonged to him -- but it was not particularly overpowering.
”Promises are important.” She agreed, her arms still around his middle. The racing beat of her heart was finally starting to slow down, and she rocked back on her heels, giving his shoulder a playful shove before turning back towards the lights of the party.
She caught his hand again when he asked her to lead the way, drawing him with her back to the crowd. However, her pace was unhurried as she wanted to savor a little time alone with him before having to share his attention. ”I’m glad that you made it.” She said, a smile in her voice. ”The strangest thing happened.” She covered her mouth with her free hand to hide her laughter. ”Achilleas asked me to dance.” She looked back and up at him, raising her eyebrows in the shadows of the garden. Her voice was low so she wouldn’t be overheard, but it was no secret that her eldest brother had always held her at arm's length.
She was about to speak again when she heard a loud splash, her attention drawn where the fountains were. Glancing at Alastor, she raised a finger to her lips and quietly crept to a place where they could watch without being seen. It would require them to stand quite close to make it work, but the shrubbery should hide them both. The teenagers were just in time to see Lord Nikos Condos sitting in the fountain, surrounded by members of the Mikaelidas family. Her gaze flickered back to Alastor again, and she put a hand on his arm, a little unsure if they should be seeing this.
The young lord made his way out of the fountain, making a wet departure, before Sara tugged on her friend's arm to draw him away.
”We probably should keep that to ourselves.” She said in a hushed tone, before ushering them both off to the party. The image would bother her though, unsure what would prompt such a scene.
When they had reached the archways that would take them back inside, Sara turned to look at Alastor in the better light. She smiled, tilting her head a little. ”I think this is the fanciest thing I’ve ever seen you wear.” She said, tucking her hands behind her back. ”You clean up well, actually.” Sneaking him in had been a good idea.
It was moments like this that Stephanos lived for: the utter outrage of people like Nikos through something that was utterly harmless. The only thing he’d wounded on the baron was the man’s pride but that tended to make it all the more insulting. As they floundered up and Stephanos laughed, Nikos didn’t seem to find the ‘accident’ very funny at all and savagely told him so. Stephanos splashed water at Nikos’s back as the baron sloshed and waded his way to the fountain’s edge.
“Have a care,” he said innocently. “Don’t slip.”
Nikos didn’t appear to be listening. He was looking down at his ruined chiton - the one that had given Stephanos this idea in the first place and said, ”I hope you’ve all had your fun. Though next time I pray that it will not be at your expense that someone finds a laugh.”
Stephanos frowned and made an ‘ooo’ sound, looking from Nikos to Achilleas to Xene, and then back again. The nerve that Nikos had finally worked up was impressive but Stephanos didn’t punish him for it. Lord Nikos had every right to be mad and insulted...and Stephanos was loving every second of it. However, all he’d wanted to do was ruin Nikos’s night. He wasn’t interested in an actual fight over it.
”If you all will excuse me. I seem to be in need of a change of clothes.” Nikos said sourly and Stephanos had to bite his fist to avoid answering that. Water dripped from his chin and he grinned around his knuckles at Xene and Achilleas, then shifted his attention back to Nikos. An unpincely snorting sound that did nothing to assure anyone of either his rank nor his military prowess abilities. At the moment, he was about where he’d been as a teen in maturity.
”Lord Condos...wait. I can have the staff find you something dry to wear if you wish” Achilleas called after Nikos and then glanced back at Stephanos, who was only just now standing up and beaming. He couldn’t have looked any more self satisfied than if he’d just been informed he was the father of a healthy (legitimate) boy. “You too” Achilleas added.
“Thank you, my lord. You are the epitome of kindness and thought.” Stephanos swept into a graceful, albeit drenched bow and then straightened back up, looking for praise from his sister. He didn’t get what he wanted, though. Instead, he got a scolding and his smile faded a little.
“Don't you think that was a little too far over the line?”
“By a toe if it was at all,” he moved to the fountain’s edge and sat down on it as he brought one leg over and then the other. He crossed his arms and shivered a little, keeping up a noble attitude as he watched Nikos storm away. “Besides, the room was too hot. Look at him now. Nice and chill.” To emphasize that, Stephanos shivered involuntarily. “I did him a favor,” he said through a bit of a tremor.
Xene didn’t seem inclined to laugh like he’d wanted her to. Instead she chose to preach and Stephanos sighed loudly, rolling his eyes away from her to stare at a rosebush, and sighed pointedly when she mentioned enemies. “As if he’d have the nerve,” he griped back.
“Maybe one day I'll push you into a fountain and see how you like it,” Xene chided.
“Make it a hot day and I would,” Stephanos’s stubborn streak came to the fore. He didn’t like when Achilleas lectured him and he certainly wouldn’t take it from his own sibling. When Xene took to chiding Achilleas, that was where Stephanos had to draw the line and he stood up, pointing.
“Ey, ey, ey. This man was listening to a story. And taking a walk in a garden. And now he’s getting two sopping wet people some clothes. You’re a hero, Achilleas. Don’t let her bully you.” He started to follow in the wet footsteps of Nikos and then turned to the two of them. “On the off chance my brother asks what happened, can we stick really close to the ‘it was an accident’ part?”
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It was moments like this that Stephanos lived for: the utter outrage of people like Nikos through something that was utterly harmless. The only thing he’d wounded on the baron was the man’s pride but that tended to make it all the more insulting. As they floundered up and Stephanos laughed, Nikos didn’t seem to find the ‘accident’ very funny at all and savagely told him so. Stephanos splashed water at Nikos’s back as the baron sloshed and waded his way to the fountain’s edge.
“Have a care,” he said innocently. “Don’t slip.”
Nikos didn’t appear to be listening. He was looking down at his ruined chiton - the one that had given Stephanos this idea in the first place and said, ”I hope you’ve all had your fun. Though next time I pray that it will not be at your expense that someone finds a laugh.”
Stephanos frowned and made an ‘ooo’ sound, looking from Nikos to Achilleas to Xene, and then back again. The nerve that Nikos had finally worked up was impressive but Stephanos didn’t punish him for it. Lord Nikos had every right to be mad and insulted...and Stephanos was loving every second of it. However, all he’d wanted to do was ruin Nikos’s night. He wasn’t interested in an actual fight over it.
”If you all will excuse me. I seem to be in need of a change of clothes.” Nikos said sourly and Stephanos had to bite his fist to avoid answering that. Water dripped from his chin and he grinned around his knuckles at Xene and Achilleas, then shifted his attention back to Nikos. An unpincely snorting sound that did nothing to assure anyone of either his rank nor his military prowess abilities. At the moment, he was about where he’d been as a teen in maturity.
”Lord Condos...wait. I can have the staff find you something dry to wear if you wish” Achilleas called after Nikos and then glanced back at Stephanos, who was only just now standing up and beaming. He couldn’t have looked any more self satisfied than if he’d just been informed he was the father of a healthy (legitimate) boy. “You too” Achilleas added.
“Thank you, my lord. You are the epitome of kindness and thought.” Stephanos swept into a graceful, albeit drenched bow and then straightened back up, looking for praise from his sister. He didn’t get what he wanted, though. Instead, he got a scolding and his smile faded a little.
“Don't you think that was a little too far over the line?”
“By a toe if it was at all,” he moved to the fountain’s edge and sat down on it as he brought one leg over and then the other. He crossed his arms and shivered a little, keeping up a noble attitude as he watched Nikos storm away. “Besides, the room was too hot. Look at him now. Nice and chill.” To emphasize that, Stephanos shivered involuntarily. “I did him a favor,” he said through a bit of a tremor.
Xene didn’t seem inclined to laugh like he’d wanted her to. Instead she chose to preach and Stephanos sighed loudly, rolling his eyes away from her to stare at a rosebush, and sighed pointedly when she mentioned enemies. “As if he’d have the nerve,” he griped back.
“Maybe one day I'll push you into a fountain and see how you like it,” Xene chided.
“Make it a hot day and I would,” Stephanos’s stubborn streak came to the fore. He didn’t like when Achilleas lectured him and he certainly wouldn’t take it from his own sibling. When Xene took to chiding Achilleas, that was where Stephanos had to draw the line and he stood up, pointing.
“Ey, ey, ey. This man was listening to a story. And taking a walk in a garden. And now he’s getting two sopping wet people some clothes. You’re a hero, Achilleas. Don’t let her bully you.” He started to follow in the wet footsteps of Nikos and then turned to the two of them. “On the off chance my brother asks what happened, can we stick really close to the ‘it was an accident’ part?”
It was moments like this that Stephanos lived for: the utter outrage of people like Nikos through something that was utterly harmless. The only thing he’d wounded on the baron was the man’s pride but that tended to make it all the more insulting. As they floundered up and Stephanos laughed, Nikos didn’t seem to find the ‘accident’ very funny at all and savagely told him so. Stephanos splashed water at Nikos’s back as the baron sloshed and waded his way to the fountain’s edge.
“Have a care,” he said innocently. “Don’t slip.”
Nikos didn’t appear to be listening. He was looking down at his ruined chiton - the one that had given Stephanos this idea in the first place and said, ”I hope you’ve all had your fun. Though next time I pray that it will not be at your expense that someone finds a laugh.”
Stephanos frowned and made an ‘ooo’ sound, looking from Nikos to Achilleas to Xene, and then back again. The nerve that Nikos had finally worked up was impressive but Stephanos didn’t punish him for it. Lord Nikos had every right to be mad and insulted...and Stephanos was loving every second of it. However, all he’d wanted to do was ruin Nikos’s night. He wasn’t interested in an actual fight over it.
”If you all will excuse me. I seem to be in need of a change of clothes.” Nikos said sourly and Stephanos had to bite his fist to avoid answering that. Water dripped from his chin and he grinned around his knuckles at Xene and Achilleas, then shifted his attention back to Nikos. An unpincely snorting sound that did nothing to assure anyone of either his rank nor his military prowess abilities. At the moment, he was about where he’d been as a teen in maturity.
”Lord Condos...wait. I can have the staff find you something dry to wear if you wish” Achilleas called after Nikos and then glanced back at Stephanos, who was only just now standing up and beaming. He couldn’t have looked any more self satisfied than if he’d just been informed he was the father of a healthy (legitimate) boy. “You too” Achilleas added.
“Thank you, my lord. You are the epitome of kindness and thought.” Stephanos swept into a graceful, albeit drenched bow and then straightened back up, looking for praise from his sister. He didn’t get what he wanted, though. Instead, he got a scolding and his smile faded a little.
“Don't you think that was a little too far over the line?”
“By a toe if it was at all,” he moved to the fountain’s edge and sat down on it as he brought one leg over and then the other. He crossed his arms and shivered a little, keeping up a noble attitude as he watched Nikos storm away. “Besides, the room was too hot. Look at him now. Nice and chill.” To emphasize that, Stephanos shivered involuntarily. “I did him a favor,” he said through a bit of a tremor.
Xene didn’t seem inclined to laugh like he’d wanted her to. Instead she chose to preach and Stephanos sighed loudly, rolling his eyes away from her to stare at a rosebush, and sighed pointedly when she mentioned enemies. “As if he’d have the nerve,” he griped back.
“Maybe one day I'll push you into a fountain and see how you like it,” Xene chided.
“Make it a hot day and I would,” Stephanos’s stubborn streak came to the fore. He didn’t like when Achilleas lectured him and he certainly wouldn’t take it from his own sibling. When Xene took to chiding Achilleas, that was where Stephanos had to draw the line and he stood up, pointing.
“Ey, ey, ey. This man was listening to a story. And taking a walk in a garden. And now he’s getting two sopping wet people some clothes. You’re a hero, Achilleas. Don’t let her bully you.” He started to follow in the wet footsteps of Nikos and then turned to the two of them. “On the off chance my brother asks what happened, can we stick really close to the ‘it was an accident’ part?”
As Imma was heaping food upon her plate, she heard a huge splash, followed by laughter. One golden eyebrow arched upwards. Had somebody fallen into the fountain? Maybe one of her sisters had too much to drink and was now soaked to the skin. Wouldn’t that be amusing? Leaving her plate on the table, she walked toward the sounds and hid herself behind a tall flowering bush. Parting the leaves, she peered out.
No, it wasn’t one of her sisters. Prince Stephanos and Lord Nikos were sitting in the fountain. Prince Achilleas and Princess Xene were standing beside it. The two sopping men looked ridiculous and she couldn’t resist a chuckle. Luckily, nobody heard the bush laughing at them. Imma wondered what had happened. Had it been an accident or had they been pushed in the water? A prank, perhaps? Most likely, since Lord Nikos climbed out of the fountain and stormed off, presumably to find dry clothes.
The blonde Leventi couldn’t help noticing the way his chiton clung to his body as he passed her hiding place. She might be young and innocent, but she wasn’t blind. He had a very fine figure as well as a handsome face. Imma watched his retreating back and then went back to the refreshment table to finish filling her plate. Her eyes widened as she neared it. The plate was gone! Somebody had taken her food! She looked around for the culprit, but there were a lot of people eating. It was impossible to tell which plate had been hers.
Not that it mattered. There were other plates and plenty of food. Imma filled another one and took a glass of fruit juice from the tray of a servant who stopped in front of her. She wanted wine, but she didn’t drink it often and didn’t want to wind up falling into a fountain herself. It was better to stick to fruit juice tonight.
She went back to her corner, which was thankfully still vacant, and sat down on the same chair as before. Another dance was starting and she was surprised when an attractive young noble that she didn’t recognize asked her to dance. He had a nice smile and was fashionably dressed. She politely declined and he left, only to return a few moments later with a plate of his own.
They ate together, exchanging small talk. Imma was surprised how easy it was to talk to him. When they were both done, a servant collected their plates and glasses. When he asked her to dance again, she accepted. It was a lively dance and he was an excellent partner. She didn’t even turn the wrong way once. After the music died down, he thanked her and excused himself to speak with a friend. I didn’t even ask his name, she thought. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.
Back to her corner she went, smiling happily to herself.
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As Imma was heaping food upon her plate, she heard a huge splash, followed by laughter. One golden eyebrow arched upwards. Had somebody fallen into the fountain? Maybe one of her sisters had too much to drink and was now soaked to the skin. Wouldn’t that be amusing? Leaving her plate on the table, she walked toward the sounds and hid herself behind a tall flowering bush. Parting the leaves, she peered out.
No, it wasn’t one of her sisters. Prince Stephanos and Lord Nikos were sitting in the fountain. Prince Achilleas and Princess Xene were standing beside it. The two sopping men looked ridiculous and she couldn’t resist a chuckle. Luckily, nobody heard the bush laughing at them. Imma wondered what had happened. Had it been an accident or had they been pushed in the water? A prank, perhaps? Most likely, since Lord Nikos climbed out of the fountain and stormed off, presumably to find dry clothes.
The blonde Leventi couldn’t help noticing the way his chiton clung to his body as he passed her hiding place. She might be young and innocent, but she wasn’t blind. He had a very fine figure as well as a handsome face. Imma watched his retreating back and then went back to the refreshment table to finish filling her plate. Her eyes widened as she neared it. The plate was gone! Somebody had taken her food! She looked around for the culprit, but there were a lot of people eating. It was impossible to tell which plate had been hers.
Not that it mattered. There were other plates and plenty of food. Imma filled another one and took a glass of fruit juice from the tray of a servant who stopped in front of her. She wanted wine, but she didn’t drink it often and didn’t want to wind up falling into a fountain herself. It was better to stick to fruit juice tonight.
She went back to her corner, which was thankfully still vacant, and sat down on the same chair as before. Another dance was starting and she was surprised when an attractive young noble that she didn’t recognize asked her to dance. He had a nice smile and was fashionably dressed. She politely declined and he left, only to return a few moments later with a plate of his own.
They ate together, exchanging small talk. Imma was surprised how easy it was to talk to him. When they were both done, a servant collected their plates and glasses. When he asked her to dance again, she accepted. It was a lively dance and he was an excellent partner. She didn’t even turn the wrong way once. After the music died down, he thanked her and excused himself to speak with a friend. I didn’t even ask his name, she thought. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.
Back to her corner she went, smiling happily to herself.
As Imma was heaping food upon her plate, she heard a huge splash, followed by laughter. One golden eyebrow arched upwards. Had somebody fallen into the fountain? Maybe one of her sisters had too much to drink and was now soaked to the skin. Wouldn’t that be amusing? Leaving her plate on the table, she walked toward the sounds and hid herself behind a tall flowering bush. Parting the leaves, she peered out.
No, it wasn’t one of her sisters. Prince Stephanos and Lord Nikos were sitting in the fountain. Prince Achilleas and Princess Xene were standing beside it. The two sopping men looked ridiculous and she couldn’t resist a chuckle. Luckily, nobody heard the bush laughing at them. Imma wondered what had happened. Had it been an accident or had they been pushed in the water? A prank, perhaps? Most likely, since Lord Nikos climbed out of the fountain and stormed off, presumably to find dry clothes.
The blonde Leventi couldn’t help noticing the way his chiton clung to his body as he passed her hiding place. She might be young and innocent, but she wasn’t blind. He had a very fine figure as well as a handsome face. Imma watched his retreating back and then went back to the refreshment table to finish filling her plate. Her eyes widened as she neared it. The plate was gone! Somebody had taken her food! She looked around for the culprit, but there were a lot of people eating. It was impossible to tell which plate had been hers.
Not that it mattered. There were other plates and plenty of food. Imma filled another one and took a glass of fruit juice from the tray of a servant who stopped in front of her. She wanted wine, but she didn’t drink it often and didn’t want to wind up falling into a fountain herself. It was better to stick to fruit juice tonight.
She went back to her corner, which was thankfully still vacant, and sat down on the same chair as before. Another dance was starting and she was surprised when an attractive young noble that she didn’t recognize asked her to dance. He had a nice smile and was fashionably dressed. She politely declined and he left, only to return a few moments later with a plate of his own.
They ate together, exchanging small talk. Imma was surprised how easy it was to talk to him. When they were both done, a servant collected their plates and glasses. When he asked her to dance again, she accepted. It was a lively dance and he was an excellent partner. She didn’t even turn the wrong way once. After the music died down, he thanked her and excused himself to speak with a friend. I didn’t even ask his name, she thought. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.
Back to her corner she went, smiling happily to herself.
Maybe Alastor wasn't thinking as well as he should've been. He'd frightened his good friend and he'd shown up to an event he wasn't really invited to in a mindset not altogether... correct for the occasion. But, what he did do was loosen himself up. He felt a swell of confidence, or maybe it was indifference? Either way, he didn't think the stares of high-brow attendees would faze him. He was keen on getting out of the dark, and heading into the manor with Sara. Everything was turning out just fine. They hadn't been caught out in the first few moments, and she shoved him playfully rather than reacting so negatively to his sneaking up on her.
Alastor, by Sara's tone, couldn't tell if she was on the same page as him in terms of that statement, but she agreed nonetheless and she led him along. The hug lasted a moment longer than he expected, but he didn't complain, pleased by her eagerness to see him that only grew more evident as she spoke. Of course she'd say it. It was almost an obligatory convention, but the small chatter she made afterwards is what drew his attention. The idea of her distant older brother doing much with her was strange, but not so much when he reflected on her letters in the past.
"That's nice of him, isn't it?" he answered, about to move on to a different tangent before that loud sploosh interrupted his thoughts. Not exactly the most graceful of people, the idea of needing to prowl and sneak wasn't exactly his cup of tea... He was apprehensive as they wandered towards it, just in time to see the body of an unfamiliar lord fall into a fountain. There were people he did recognize. Lord Achilleas of Mikaelidas was, perhaps, the only one. Alastor, after all, had been away far too long. Not as well-informed as he might've liked about the context of the situation, it just looked like a bunch of bullying that the man was complicit in.
He's not... actively participating. It looks like the other one. Is that another Mikaelidas?
It only made sense. The Leventis, from what he understood, had very few male heirs to their name. Who was the man in the fountain?
"I only recognized your brother... I've been away too long, haven't I?" he muttered, a frown built upon his features. But, there wasn't much else to say about it all. With his brain rightfully fuzzy from the interference of the cannabis and the familiar, pleasant tingles rolling through his body with his every motion... it was much easier to get distracted by other things. They headed inside together, and Alastor offered a wider smile when she mentioned his chiton and how well he cleaned up. Compliments were very... rare, for Alastor. The flush threatened to break across his features, just stayed just at his ears as he sought to laugh it off.
Compliments are... nice? I dunno...
"I try my best. Showing up and looking like the help would be a good way to get kicked out," he reasoned, trying to deflect the notion of compliment altogether. Alastor let his gaze flicker about, taking in the grandeur of their surroundings before he asked Sara,
"What now?"
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Maybe Alastor wasn't thinking as well as he should've been. He'd frightened his good friend and he'd shown up to an event he wasn't really invited to in a mindset not altogether... correct for the occasion. But, what he did do was loosen himself up. He felt a swell of confidence, or maybe it was indifference? Either way, he didn't think the stares of high-brow attendees would faze him. He was keen on getting out of the dark, and heading into the manor with Sara. Everything was turning out just fine. They hadn't been caught out in the first few moments, and she shoved him playfully rather than reacting so negatively to his sneaking up on her.
Alastor, by Sara's tone, couldn't tell if she was on the same page as him in terms of that statement, but she agreed nonetheless and she led him along. The hug lasted a moment longer than he expected, but he didn't complain, pleased by her eagerness to see him that only grew more evident as she spoke. Of course she'd say it. It was almost an obligatory convention, but the small chatter she made afterwards is what drew his attention. The idea of her distant older brother doing much with her was strange, but not so much when he reflected on her letters in the past.
"That's nice of him, isn't it?" he answered, about to move on to a different tangent before that loud sploosh interrupted his thoughts. Not exactly the most graceful of people, the idea of needing to prowl and sneak wasn't exactly his cup of tea... He was apprehensive as they wandered towards it, just in time to see the body of an unfamiliar lord fall into a fountain. There were people he did recognize. Lord Achilleas of Mikaelidas was, perhaps, the only one. Alastor, after all, had been away far too long. Not as well-informed as he might've liked about the context of the situation, it just looked like a bunch of bullying that the man was complicit in.
He's not... actively participating. It looks like the other one. Is that another Mikaelidas?
It only made sense. The Leventis, from what he understood, had very few male heirs to their name. Who was the man in the fountain?
"I only recognized your brother... I've been away too long, haven't I?" he muttered, a frown built upon his features. But, there wasn't much else to say about it all. With his brain rightfully fuzzy from the interference of the cannabis and the familiar, pleasant tingles rolling through his body with his every motion... it was much easier to get distracted by other things. They headed inside together, and Alastor offered a wider smile when she mentioned his chiton and how well he cleaned up. Compliments were very... rare, for Alastor. The flush threatened to break across his features, just stayed just at his ears as he sought to laugh it off.
Compliments are... nice? I dunno...
"I try my best. Showing up and looking like the help would be a good way to get kicked out," he reasoned, trying to deflect the notion of compliment altogether. Alastor let his gaze flicker about, taking in the grandeur of their surroundings before he asked Sara,
"What now?"
Maybe Alastor wasn't thinking as well as he should've been. He'd frightened his good friend and he'd shown up to an event he wasn't really invited to in a mindset not altogether... correct for the occasion. But, what he did do was loosen himself up. He felt a swell of confidence, or maybe it was indifference? Either way, he didn't think the stares of high-brow attendees would faze him. He was keen on getting out of the dark, and heading into the manor with Sara. Everything was turning out just fine. They hadn't been caught out in the first few moments, and she shoved him playfully rather than reacting so negatively to his sneaking up on her.
Alastor, by Sara's tone, couldn't tell if she was on the same page as him in terms of that statement, but she agreed nonetheless and she led him along. The hug lasted a moment longer than he expected, but he didn't complain, pleased by her eagerness to see him that only grew more evident as she spoke. Of course she'd say it. It was almost an obligatory convention, but the small chatter she made afterwards is what drew his attention. The idea of her distant older brother doing much with her was strange, but not so much when he reflected on her letters in the past.
"That's nice of him, isn't it?" he answered, about to move on to a different tangent before that loud sploosh interrupted his thoughts. Not exactly the most graceful of people, the idea of needing to prowl and sneak wasn't exactly his cup of tea... He was apprehensive as they wandered towards it, just in time to see the body of an unfamiliar lord fall into a fountain. There were people he did recognize. Lord Achilleas of Mikaelidas was, perhaps, the only one. Alastor, after all, had been away far too long. Not as well-informed as he might've liked about the context of the situation, it just looked like a bunch of bullying that the man was complicit in.
He's not... actively participating. It looks like the other one. Is that another Mikaelidas?
It only made sense. The Leventis, from what he understood, had very few male heirs to their name. Who was the man in the fountain?
"I only recognized your brother... I've been away too long, haven't I?" he muttered, a frown built upon his features. But, there wasn't much else to say about it all. With his brain rightfully fuzzy from the interference of the cannabis and the familiar, pleasant tingles rolling through his body with his every motion... it was much easier to get distracted by other things. They headed inside together, and Alastor offered a wider smile when she mentioned his chiton and how well he cleaned up. Compliments were very... rare, for Alastor. The flush threatened to break across his features, just stayed just at his ears as he sought to laugh it off.
Compliments are... nice? I dunno...
"I try my best. Showing up and looking like the help would be a good way to get kicked out," he reasoned, trying to deflect the notion of compliment altogether. Alastor let his gaze flicker about, taking in the grandeur of their surroundings before he asked Sara,
"What now?"
She too had recognized her brother right away, along with everyone else standing in that group. A result of her upbringing within the noble house Mikaelidas even if she had never truly been one of them. She had averted her gaze which made her just as much part of things as any of them, but she would not dare breathe a word of it. ”It’s better to pretend that you didn’t see it.” She murmured to Alastor as she led him up the steps towards the lights that danced through the windows, stopping at the top. She was cast in half light, half shadow and she reached nervously to pick at her own appearance. She was accustomed to keeping quiet about things that she was not supposed to have seen. She knew things that no other soul ever could. Not even Alastor.
But she did not wish to dwell on those things now.
She reached up, her fingers absently adjusting the fibulae at his chest without much thought to the action. He was her friend, and she had tidied his appearance on more than one occasion. ”Well yes.” She agreed about his assessment of not looking like the help. ”Always thinking three steps ahead.” He never did know how to accept her compliments. She’d drawn quite close to him, pausing once she’d fixed what she had needed to. Her gaze swept up to his from beneath her lashes, and she flushed as she took a step back.
She cleared her throat, gesturing to the party going on indoors. ”I’d like to introduce you to Imma of Leventi, if that’s alright? She’s my best friend.” She felt heat flare again. ”Well, other than you of course.” She smiled, feeling odd and out of place as she turned and led him inside. The party was just as grand as she had left it a little while ago. She was a vision, moving across the floor with purpose -- clearly more at ease now, even though her insides were twisted with nerves. She wondered if she should have said anything to him about how to behave here, but surely he knew enough about formal events? He simply needed to look the part. She doubted anyone would question him.
Sara chatted happily at him as they walked the perimeter of the dancing floor. Her heart was doing strange things as she considered the possibility that he might ask her to dance. She’d yet to notice his red eyes, but she found that she actually couldn’t quite meet his gaze now that there was enough light to do so.
She found Imma in nearly the same place as she had left her, the blonde smiling as if something had occurred while she was away. Her own smile was nervous. She’d told Imma quite a bit about Alastor -- but even she did not know the depths for which Sara’s affections ran for him. They had been childhood friends, and it wasn’t until recently that Sara had felt something stronger. She was not quite sure of that feeling just yet, but already it was coloring this evening and she was working hard to not think too long on it.
”Alastor, may I present the Lady Imma of Leventi.” She said, hoping that the pair of them would actually get along. She paused, having to think of how to address Alastor. He was common, not typically addressed by a family name. She did not have the luxury of being addressed by the Mikaelidas name, so hopefully he would not think of her words as a slight. ”Imma, this is Alastor of Vasiliadon. He joins us tonight all the way from Athenia where he is studying to become a scholar, isn’t that right?”
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She too had recognized her brother right away, along with everyone else standing in that group. A result of her upbringing within the noble house Mikaelidas even if she had never truly been one of them. She had averted her gaze which made her just as much part of things as any of them, but she would not dare breathe a word of it. ”It’s better to pretend that you didn’t see it.” She murmured to Alastor as she led him up the steps towards the lights that danced through the windows, stopping at the top. She was cast in half light, half shadow and she reached nervously to pick at her own appearance. She was accustomed to keeping quiet about things that she was not supposed to have seen. She knew things that no other soul ever could. Not even Alastor.
But she did not wish to dwell on those things now.
She reached up, her fingers absently adjusting the fibulae at his chest without much thought to the action. He was her friend, and she had tidied his appearance on more than one occasion. ”Well yes.” She agreed about his assessment of not looking like the help. ”Always thinking three steps ahead.” He never did know how to accept her compliments. She’d drawn quite close to him, pausing once she’d fixed what she had needed to. Her gaze swept up to his from beneath her lashes, and she flushed as she took a step back.
She cleared her throat, gesturing to the party going on indoors. ”I’d like to introduce you to Imma of Leventi, if that’s alright? She’s my best friend.” She felt heat flare again. ”Well, other than you of course.” She smiled, feeling odd and out of place as she turned and led him inside. The party was just as grand as she had left it a little while ago. She was a vision, moving across the floor with purpose -- clearly more at ease now, even though her insides were twisted with nerves. She wondered if she should have said anything to him about how to behave here, but surely he knew enough about formal events? He simply needed to look the part. She doubted anyone would question him.
Sara chatted happily at him as they walked the perimeter of the dancing floor. Her heart was doing strange things as she considered the possibility that he might ask her to dance. She’d yet to notice his red eyes, but she found that she actually couldn’t quite meet his gaze now that there was enough light to do so.
She found Imma in nearly the same place as she had left her, the blonde smiling as if something had occurred while she was away. Her own smile was nervous. She’d told Imma quite a bit about Alastor -- but even she did not know the depths for which Sara’s affections ran for him. They had been childhood friends, and it wasn’t until recently that Sara had felt something stronger. She was not quite sure of that feeling just yet, but already it was coloring this evening and she was working hard to not think too long on it.
”Alastor, may I present the Lady Imma of Leventi.” She said, hoping that the pair of them would actually get along. She paused, having to think of how to address Alastor. He was common, not typically addressed by a family name. She did not have the luxury of being addressed by the Mikaelidas name, so hopefully he would not think of her words as a slight. ”Imma, this is Alastor of Vasiliadon. He joins us tonight all the way from Athenia where he is studying to become a scholar, isn’t that right?”
She too had recognized her brother right away, along with everyone else standing in that group. A result of her upbringing within the noble house Mikaelidas even if she had never truly been one of them. She had averted her gaze which made her just as much part of things as any of them, but she would not dare breathe a word of it. ”It’s better to pretend that you didn’t see it.” She murmured to Alastor as she led him up the steps towards the lights that danced through the windows, stopping at the top. She was cast in half light, half shadow and she reached nervously to pick at her own appearance. She was accustomed to keeping quiet about things that she was not supposed to have seen. She knew things that no other soul ever could. Not even Alastor.
But she did not wish to dwell on those things now.
She reached up, her fingers absently adjusting the fibulae at his chest without much thought to the action. He was her friend, and she had tidied his appearance on more than one occasion. ”Well yes.” She agreed about his assessment of not looking like the help. ”Always thinking three steps ahead.” He never did know how to accept her compliments. She’d drawn quite close to him, pausing once she’d fixed what she had needed to. Her gaze swept up to his from beneath her lashes, and she flushed as she took a step back.
She cleared her throat, gesturing to the party going on indoors. ”I’d like to introduce you to Imma of Leventi, if that’s alright? She’s my best friend.” She felt heat flare again. ”Well, other than you of course.” She smiled, feeling odd and out of place as she turned and led him inside. The party was just as grand as she had left it a little while ago. She was a vision, moving across the floor with purpose -- clearly more at ease now, even though her insides were twisted with nerves. She wondered if she should have said anything to him about how to behave here, but surely he knew enough about formal events? He simply needed to look the part. She doubted anyone would question him.
Sara chatted happily at him as they walked the perimeter of the dancing floor. Her heart was doing strange things as she considered the possibility that he might ask her to dance. She’d yet to notice his red eyes, but she found that she actually couldn’t quite meet his gaze now that there was enough light to do so.
She found Imma in nearly the same place as she had left her, the blonde smiling as if something had occurred while she was away. Her own smile was nervous. She’d told Imma quite a bit about Alastor -- but even she did not know the depths for which Sara’s affections ran for him. They had been childhood friends, and it wasn’t until recently that Sara had felt something stronger. She was not quite sure of that feeling just yet, but already it was coloring this evening and she was working hard to not think too long on it.
”Alastor, may I present the Lady Imma of Leventi.” She said, hoping that the pair of them would actually get along. She paused, having to think of how to address Alastor. He was common, not typically addressed by a family name. She did not have the luxury of being addressed by the Mikaelidas name, so hopefully he would not think of her words as a slight. ”Imma, this is Alastor of Vasiliadon. He joins us tonight all the way from Athenia where he is studying to become a scholar, isn’t that right?”
’Lord Condos… wait. I can have the staff find you something dry to wear is you wish.’
Nikos was fuming, was barely able to control himself. The only thing that kept him from losing his temper all together was his friend’s – his captain’s - voice in his mind. Petros had reminded the lord, before Nikos had left the barony to travel to the city, to not do anything too rash. Petros knew how Nikos felt about his royal cousins, and the Doralis captain knew too, how easy it was at times for Nikos to lose control of himself.
There were too many witnesses about. He’d never get away with attacking the prince.
Nikos almost didn’t stop when Achilleas called out for him. In fact, he took a few more steps even after the offer of dry clothes. But the sight of people – other nobles – milling about near the manor back up the path, made him pause. The proud Condos looked down at his sopping wet clothes. He couldn’t go trapsing through the party looking like this. He turned on his heel and inclined his head to the Mikaelidas lord. ”That would be… much appreciated,” Nikos ground out through his clenched teeth. It was the least his hated cousins could do after showing him such disrespect. Even as he stood there, Nikos chewed at the inside of his cheek to keep himself from speaking anything more until he was… calmer and thinking more rationally. But at Stephanos’ words of exaggerated gratitude towards Achilleas, Nikos couldn’t hold back a derisive snort. Petros had been right. He should have stayed in Doralis. At least there he’d have the company of Arete, the merchant girl he’d been regularly inviting back to his bed, to occupy his time. But Nikos had been unwilling to skip the party, as it would have shed an unfavorable light on the Condos name to not attend an event put on by the royal family. Reputation is everything, after all.
With that though in mind, Nikos was finally able to somewhat settle his rage. He lifted his voice towards his Mikaelidas cousins, as it seemed the Princess Xene was scolding the two men. A smirk accompanied his call – though he did wish the woman had scolded them before he’d been pushed into a fountain! – ”The chill of the night is creeping through these wet clothes. I shall wait for your… gracious hospitality back at the manor.” He gave a bow towards the princess. ”Enjoy the rest of your night, your highness.” With that Nikos turned on his heels and headed off towards the house, still irritated and mad, but more in control of his faculties.
He slowed as he neared the closest doors back inside. Taking a few deep breaths, he forced that signature charming smile onto his face, waving off the questioning and concerned looks of a young couple who’d just cone outside. ”I either should drink less wine or take better care of where I step. Has that fountain always been in that same place?” he laughed brightly, and the couple shook their heads as they wandered off down the path. Nikos’s smile disappeared as they did, and he turned a harder gaze upon the now approaching prince and lord. ”May want to hurry, your highness, wouldn’t want you to catch a fever.” If only we could be so lucky, Nikos thought to himself.
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’Lord Condos… wait. I can have the staff find you something dry to wear is you wish.’
Nikos was fuming, was barely able to control himself. The only thing that kept him from losing his temper all together was his friend’s – his captain’s - voice in his mind. Petros had reminded the lord, before Nikos had left the barony to travel to the city, to not do anything too rash. Petros knew how Nikos felt about his royal cousins, and the Doralis captain knew too, how easy it was at times for Nikos to lose control of himself.
There were too many witnesses about. He’d never get away with attacking the prince.
Nikos almost didn’t stop when Achilleas called out for him. In fact, he took a few more steps even after the offer of dry clothes. But the sight of people – other nobles – milling about near the manor back up the path, made him pause. The proud Condos looked down at his sopping wet clothes. He couldn’t go trapsing through the party looking like this. He turned on his heel and inclined his head to the Mikaelidas lord. ”That would be… much appreciated,” Nikos ground out through his clenched teeth. It was the least his hated cousins could do after showing him such disrespect. Even as he stood there, Nikos chewed at the inside of his cheek to keep himself from speaking anything more until he was… calmer and thinking more rationally. But at Stephanos’ words of exaggerated gratitude towards Achilleas, Nikos couldn’t hold back a derisive snort. Petros had been right. He should have stayed in Doralis. At least there he’d have the company of Arete, the merchant girl he’d been regularly inviting back to his bed, to occupy his time. But Nikos had been unwilling to skip the party, as it would have shed an unfavorable light on the Condos name to not attend an event put on by the royal family. Reputation is everything, after all.
With that though in mind, Nikos was finally able to somewhat settle his rage. He lifted his voice towards his Mikaelidas cousins, as it seemed the Princess Xene was scolding the two men. A smirk accompanied his call – though he did wish the woman had scolded them before he’d been pushed into a fountain! – ”The chill of the night is creeping through these wet clothes. I shall wait for your… gracious hospitality back at the manor.” He gave a bow towards the princess. ”Enjoy the rest of your night, your highness.” With that Nikos turned on his heels and headed off towards the house, still irritated and mad, but more in control of his faculties.
He slowed as he neared the closest doors back inside. Taking a few deep breaths, he forced that signature charming smile onto his face, waving off the questioning and concerned looks of a young couple who’d just cone outside. ”I either should drink less wine or take better care of where I step. Has that fountain always been in that same place?” he laughed brightly, and the couple shook their heads as they wandered off down the path. Nikos’s smile disappeared as they did, and he turned a harder gaze upon the now approaching prince and lord. ”May want to hurry, your highness, wouldn’t want you to catch a fever.” If only we could be so lucky, Nikos thought to himself.
’Lord Condos… wait. I can have the staff find you something dry to wear is you wish.’
Nikos was fuming, was barely able to control himself. The only thing that kept him from losing his temper all together was his friend’s – his captain’s - voice in his mind. Petros had reminded the lord, before Nikos had left the barony to travel to the city, to not do anything too rash. Petros knew how Nikos felt about his royal cousins, and the Doralis captain knew too, how easy it was at times for Nikos to lose control of himself.
There were too many witnesses about. He’d never get away with attacking the prince.
Nikos almost didn’t stop when Achilleas called out for him. In fact, he took a few more steps even after the offer of dry clothes. But the sight of people – other nobles – milling about near the manor back up the path, made him pause. The proud Condos looked down at his sopping wet clothes. He couldn’t go trapsing through the party looking like this. He turned on his heel and inclined his head to the Mikaelidas lord. ”That would be… much appreciated,” Nikos ground out through his clenched teeth. It was the least his hated cousins could do after showing him such disrespect. Even as he stood there, Nikos chewed at the inside of his cheek to keep himself from speaking anything more until he was… calmer and thinking more rationally. But at Stephanos’ words of exaggerated gratitude towards Achilleas, Nikos couldn’t hold back a derisive snort. Petros had been right. He should have stayed in Doralis. At least there he’d have the company of Arete, the merchant girl he’d been regularly inviting back to his bed, to occupy his time. But Nikos had been unwilling to skip the party, as it would have shed an unfavorable light on the Condos name to not attend an event put on by the royal family. Reputation is everything, after all.
With that though in mind, Nikos was finally able to somewhat settle his rage. He lifted his voice towards his Mikaelidas cousins, as it seemed the Princess Xene was scolding the two men. A smirk accompanied his call – though he did wish the woman had scolded them before he’d been pushed into a fountain! – ”The chill of the night is creeping through these wet clothes. I shall wait for your… gracious hospitality back at the manor.” He gave a bow towards the princess. ”Enjoy the rest of your night, your highness.” With that Nikos turned on his heels and headed off towards the house, still irritated and mad, but more in control of his faculties.
He slowed as he neared the closest doors back inside. Taking a few deep breaths, he forced that signature charming smile onto his face, waving off the questioning and concerned looks of a young couple who’d just cone outside. ”I either should drink less wine or take better care of where I step. Has that fountain always been in that same place?” he laughed brightly, and the couple shook their heads as they wandered off down the path. Nikos’s smile disappeared as they did, and he turned a harder gaze upon the now approaching prince and lord. ”May want to hurry, your highness, wouldn’t want you to catch a fever.” If only we could be so lucky, Nikos thought to himself.
Sara had been gone a long time. Maybe she decided not to introduce me to Alastor for some reason. Or he doesn’t want to meet me. Perhaps he had been turned away. He was a commoner, after all. Her best friend’s formidable father probably had guards at the door to keep the rabble away. Not that Alastor was rabble, but Lord Irakles would think he was.
Years ago, she had thought that Alastor was Sara’s imaginary friend since she had never seen him. But the things that she had told her about him did not seem made up. They just traveled in different circles. As a member of one of Taengea’s most influential royal families, Imma had only been allowed to socialize with other nobles. There was no way somebody like Alastor could have gotten past the defenses set around her.
Sara had more freedom, being only half-royal. Imma had envied her until she was old enough to understand her situation. Later, at the Scholeio, she had met the children of wealthy common families who were able to afford the tuition, and had found them to be much the same as the nobles she had grown up with. The only times she interacted with the poorer members of society was when she gave coins to hungry street children. Alastor, she knew, was a member of a poorer peasant family.
If he had been turned away, perhaps Sara had gone with him. After Imma danced with another handsome young man and returned to her corner again, she finally saw her friend walking toward her in the company of a dark-haired boy. So he had not been turned away at the door. Sara had told her how smart he was many times. Maybe he had fooled the guards into letting him in. Or maybe there weren’t any guards at the door at all.
Sara introduced the two of them. Imma sensed that she was very fond of him in the way only a best friend could. “I’m delighted to meet you, Alastor,” she said, smiling warmly. “Sara has told me so much about you.” She grinned at the other girl. “All of it good, of course.”
Her sky blue eyes widened. “You’re a scholar? How intriguing! What is Athenia like? I have never been away from Taengea and I envy you for being able to travel.”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Sara had been gone a long time. Maybe she decided not to introduce me to Alastor for some reason. Or he doesn’t want to meet me. Perhaps he had been turned away. He was a commoner, after all. Her best friend’s formidable father probably had guards at the door to keep the rabble away. Not that Alastor was rabble, but Lord Irakles would think he was.
Years ago, she had thought that Alastor was Sara’s imaginary friend since she had never seen him. But the things that she had told her about him did not seem made up. They just traveled in different circles. As a member of one of Taengea’s most influential royal families, Imma had only been allowed to socialize with other nobles. There was no way somebody like Alastor could have gotten past the defenses set around her.
Sara had more freedom, being only half-royal. Imma had envied her until she was old enough to understand her situation. Later, at the Scholeio, she had met the children of wealthy common families who were able to afford the tuition, and had found them to be much the same as the nobles she had grown up with. The only times she interacted with the poorer members of society was when she gave coins to hungry street children. Alastor, she knew, was a member of a poorer peasant family.
If he had been turned away, perhaps Sara had gone with him. After Imma danced with another handsome young man and returned to her corner again, she finally saw her friend walking toward her in the company of a dark-haired boy. So he had not been turned away at the door. Sara had told her how smart he was many times. Maybe he had fooled the guards into letting him in. Or maybe there weren’t any guards at the door at all.
Sara introduced the two of them. Imma sensed that she was very fond of him in the way only a best friend could. “I’m delighted to meet you, Alastor,” she said, smiling warmly. “Sara has told me so much about you.” She grinned at the other girl. “All of it good, of course.”
Her sky blue eyes widened. “You’re a scholar? How intriguing! What is Athenia like? I have never been away from Taengea and I envy you for being able to travel.”
Sara had been gone a long time. Maybe she decided not to introduce me to Alastor for some reason. Or he doesn’t want to meet me. Perhaps he had been turned away. He was a commoner, after all. Her best friend’s formidable father probably had guards at the door to keep the rabble away. Not that Alastor was rabble, but Lord Irakles would think he was.
Years ago, she had thought that Alastor was Sara’s imaginary friend since she had never seen him. But the things that she had told her about him did not seem made up. They just traveled in different circles. As a member of one of Taengea’s most influential royal families, Imma had only been allowed to socialize with other nobles. There was no way somebody like Alastor could have gotten past the defenses set around her.
Sara had more freedom, being only half-royal. Imma had envied her until she was old enough to understand her situation. Later, at the Scholeio, she had met the children of wealthy common families who were able to afford the tuition, and had found them to be much the same as the nobles she had grown up with. The only times she interacted with the poorer members of society was when she gave coins to hungry street children. Alastor, she knew, was a member of a poorer peasant family.
If he had been turned away, perhaps Sara had gone with him. After Imma danced with another handsome young man and returned to her corner again, she finally saw her friend walking toward her in the company of a dark-haired boy. So he had not been turned away at the door. Sara had told her how smart he was many times. Maybe he had fooled the guards into letting him in. Or maybe there weren’t any guards at the door at all.
Sara introduced the two of them. Imma sensed that she was very fond of him in the way only a best friend could. “I’m delighted to meet you, Alastor,” she said, smiling warmly. “Sara has told me so much about you.” She grinned at the other girl. “All of it good, of course.”
Her sky blue eyes widened. “You’re a scholar? How intriguing! What is Athenia like? I have never been away from Taengea and I envy you for being able to travel.”