Gavriil was not a large man but his presence was so vast and his face so set that he could have been an eternal, craigy mountain. He regarded Theodora as she stormed towards them, not smiling when she came to an abrupt halt. His face was not unkind, but it wasn’t open, either. To him, there was nothing amusing whatsoever about what he was seeing, though his brother had a different take on that. Lord Dorotheos’s expression was bemused, if a very little disapproving.

”My lords,” Lady Theodora began in response to the question he did not ask. “I had a few too many glasses of wine at the party, wandered off, and got lost.” Gavriil’s eyes did not leave her face while she spoke, though he did note the advancing, taller shadows of the men behind her trailing closer. The prince’s reaction did not escape him but Gavriil didn’t react to it. His attention remained on Theodora as she launched into a rather tangled story that painted her in a bad light.

Drunk? In her mother’s presence? At a royal party? Enough to wander sloppily through the gardens to end up in vast fields that somehow let out at this side road?

“His Highness and Lord Achilleas found me and were kind enough to offer me an escort home. It seemed a little late to go back to the party.” Now Gavriil’s eyes did shift onto Stephanos and Achilleas, who were also supposed to be at the party. He noted Achilleas’s wet hair and Theodora’s bedraggled appearance. The prince was dry but smeared and looked the worse for wear. If Iason was involved, Gavriil would have liked further information but as he was not, he was content with not knowing at all.

He said nothing to any of this, merely standing with his hands behind his back, head slightly inclined, listening as Theodora plunged bravely on. “And then… yes, um. I did not take too kindly to His Highness’s idea of humor, and thought perhaps it was better if I just... walked a little ahead of them.” He waited a few seconds longer to see if there was more to this little tale but nothing else seemed to be forthcoming. Without a word, Gavriil stepped aside, opening an arm to usher her on her way.

“My brother and I were also on our way home. We are all going the same way, I think? Except for his highness, of course?”

At which point Stephanos eyed the palace like he had forgotten he lived there. Gavriil looked to Achilleas then. “It is late,” he said by way of telling them all they should not be loitering in streets in the dark looking guiltier than he’d seen anyone look. He didn’t believe a word of what Theodora had told him but she wasn’t his daughter and it wasn’t his responsibility to figure out what had happened in any case. What might be considered his responsibility now, though, was seeing that whatever tomfoolery had happened, that it was now at an end.

To be honest, Theodora wasn’t sure which was worse—allowing herself to be escorted home by Achilleas and the infuriating Stephanos or the two older men supervising her journey back to the Leventi manor. Her opinion on the issue, however, didn’t matter; her decision was made for her, Lord Gavriil gesturing for her to precede them. Though he didn’t really seem to buy her quickly concocted tale, at least he wasn’t asking any more questions. So, she supposed, it could be worse… all she could pray for at this point was that the Dimitrou lords did not say anything to her parents about this incident. And if they did, well, she would just have to make sure she gave Evelli and Georgios the same story she had just given them and hope for the best.

“Thank you, my lord,” she mumbled as she stepped in front of Gavriil, for what else could she really say? Of course, it would be too easy if she had just been permitted to walk home alone as she intended, but there was no polite way to refuse the offer of escort from a Head of House, and one so much older than her, as it was.

Stephanos was essentially dismissed, and at that, at least, Theodora could feel relieved. The sooner she could be rid of him at this point, the better. She wasn’t too keen on the idea of lying any further, especially when she would much rather he faced consequences for this. Unfortunately, she just wasn’t petty enough to single him out, not when it was all of their necks on the line. One day, though. One day.

Achilleas, on the other hand, she wasn’t as eager to see go, though he didn’t seem very thrilled at the idea of continuing the stroll with them. How awkward it would be for her to walk home with just Gavriil and Dorotheos; at least with Achilleas there, she wouldn’t be suffering this uncomfortable fate alone. He hadn’t been anything but pleasant to her that night, and though he had not stepped in to stop Stephanos’s very ungentlemanlike behavior, he hadn’t done anything to earn her ire, either. Even if she meant to dodge him for the next several weeks in order to avoid this awkward recollection altogether.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” she said by way of curt farewell to Stephanos, dropping into a quick curtsy before turning and eliminating him from her view entirely. At least she didn’t have to worry about any more antics on the rest of the way home; she doubted Lord Gavriil or Lord Dorotheos were much for pranks or teasing.

She did not wait to see if Achilleas followed or lagged behind before she started walking again; she had accepted Gavriil’s escort, but that didn’t mean she had to link arms or linger beside them. If they wanted to walk her home, they could watch her rear while it walked away. She didn’t want to prolong their conversation any longer than necessary, and she was more than ready to be home, locked in her room and away from all this, where she could pretend the whole night had never happened.

He wasn’t quite in panic mode yet. Stephanos didn’t have near the same aversion to getting into trouble, or rather, being found to be in trouble[/i] as Achilleas did. Too many times had already happened in his life that found him on the wrong side of ‘acceptable’ that he was nearly used to it now. And, of course, his parents weren’t as hard on him as Achilleas’s father was. Prince Irakles was a tyrant, so far as Stephanos was concerned and he thanked his lucky stars that he hadn’t been born into that side of the Mikaelidas clan.

“We thought that...given the..wine, Lady Theodora might be better off at home,” Achilleas was saying. Stephanos twitched. Now Achilleas was lying, too?? The world had gone mad. He wasn’t going to correct any of this, of course. As long as it got them out of this situation, he’d prod Achilleas about it later. For the time being, he was perfectly willing to go along with this version of events and it seemed like Lord Gavriil was, too. Or, at least he didn’t say anything. Stephanos was, however, a little unnerved by the way the Lord’s eyes settled on each of them with that piercing blue way he had, as though he was taking his soul and measuring it. When the lord’s gaze moved away, Stephanos frowned and put a hand on his chest. He honestly felt like he’d come short of whatever measurement had taken place, though it was hard to be sure. Lord Gavriil’s next action left him a little confounded.

He’d been dismissed. Stephanos blinked, trying to figure out if he should put the lord in his place or if he’d end up on his ass trying to do it. He rather suspected that he wouldn’t win in a verbal spar. Just when he was about to shrug and head towards the deliciously warm baths, Achilleas had to go and ruin it with that ‘cousin?’ plea. Stephanos didn’t want to. He didn’t want to turn and see his cousin’s face...but he did. And his own eyes crinkled up, his brows came down, his mouth screwed itself up in that Do-I-Have-To? face. There, right where he’d known it would be, was Achilleas looking so panicked, so forlorn, so alone, like a kicked puppy, and Stephanos couldn’t turn him down.

Sigh.

“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his head where his hair was still silky and bird-poop-less. “I was coming with Achilleas for a um...a….sleepover. To...discuss…” uh. “Horses.” Man. He was usually a much better liar but he was off his game at the moment. It ended up not mattering. Lord Gavriil either didn’t hear him or literally pretended not to because Stephanos found himself speaking to the lord’s back, rather than his face. Wow. Did Iason have to deal with this? Was that why Iason was so shy? Or did none of the Dimitrous speak much anyway?

On the way, Stephanos elbowed Achilleas in the ribs. “This is awkward,” he hissed. And now he was going to have to spend the night because he sure as Hades wasn’t walking back to the palati with bird poop still in his hair. With another sigh, he rolled his neck and worked his shoulders, restless in the extreme. He was still waiting for some sort of shoe to drop and he couldn’t even appreciate Theodora’s fine posterior. She was too far ahead and blocked by Lord Gavriil and Lord Dorotheos, who, and he didn’t think anyone would disagree, were not as fine looking.

The abrupt departure of the Dimitrou lords, though, had him frowning as the gate clanged closed, nearly literally in his face. He clicked his tongue and looked at the other two. “So...I don’t think we’re in trouble….Theodora, I don’t suppose you’d let Achilleas and I make it up to you by having a drink with us in his kitchens, would you? We can all wash up and then meet back there for like a late supper or something?”

The walk back had cooled his head a little bit and he was now feeling very slightly guilty about rubbing bird poop on her dress. She wasn’t so bad...he guessed. This was the olive branch he was offering as he folded his arms and wandered on past the Dimitrou gates towards the Leventi and Mikaelidas manors.

Oh, thank the gods this was almost over. She could now see the Leventi manor, just a few dozen yards away. Theodora released a long breath of relief as they drew closer, the baths calling her name. She was just about to keep walking that way until she heard Lord Gavriil bid them farewell, turning to see he and his brother bowing in the direction of Stephanos. That was… that was it? “Have a good night, my lords…” she echoed Achilleas's words, looking a little bewildered. Watching them leave and walk through their own gates, Theodora blinked a few times in confusion. After they went to the trouble of escorting them home, after they gave them such disapproving looks, they weren’t even going to ensure they each went back to their own respective homes with their tails tucked between their legs? Either they were awfully trusting of the younger trio, or they simply didn’t care. Theo was leaning toward the latter.

Unfortunately, their departure left her alone with Achilleas and Stephanos again, who, apparently, had not left them at the palati like she thought. For a moment, she nearly dismissed them from her notice to keep walking like she intended, but the prince’s voice was drawing her back—dark gaze annoyed as she glanced over her shoulder. As embarrassed and frustrated as she was, she couldn’t just ignore a prince, no matter how much she wanted to.

Her look was incredulous when he asked if she would accompany them back to the Mikaelidas manor for a drink, a scathing refusal lingering just on the tip of her tongue. Did he really think she wanted to spend any more time with them after what had just happened? Was he mad? She had been perfectly content to walk off and leave them on her own in the middle of the night, and now he was asking her to stay? Her brows drawing together as she opened her mouth to deny him, she closed it again when Achilleas added his own voice to his cousin’s.

Pleading blue eyes met hers, and some of the irritation softened from her own features as her lips pursed in consideration. Damn it, why did he have to look at her like that? How was she supposed to storm off in grand fashion when he made that face? It would feel like kicking a puppy, and she felt a little bit of guilt creep up her spine. Maybe she had acted a little gracelessly at the pool, even if she had been so embarrassed. Really, none of this had been anyone’s fault but nature’s—well, barring the bird poop rubbed into her chiton, anyway. Achilleas’s chiton. The chiton she was wearing. Whatever.

Sighing deeply, Theodora nodded once in defeat. “Fine,” she conceded. “One drink, that’s it.” It would give her an excuse to avoid her parents for a while, anyway; if Lord Gavriil and Lord Dorotheos had left the party, surely Georgios and Evelli wouldn’t be long after. And while she thought she might be able to dodge around them, what if they arrived home at the same time and bumped into each other? Somehow, it seemed she had managed to avoid too much trouble for this incident, but would that hold? Then again, perhaps the Dimitrou lords would tell her parents, anyway, and if she was already in trouble, why not make it worse by continuing to remain unchaperoned in the young men’s presence? Either way, she couldn’t really win.

“I’ll meet you in twenty minutes,” she said before she did walk away to sneak into the house so she could change. “This is a bad idea,” she muttered under her breath as she retreated, cursing herself for giving in to a big dumb pair of pretty blue eyes.

Achilleas smiled a quietly satisfied sort of smile when Theodora begrudgingly accepted their invitation, his demeanour that much brighter as he led Stephanos around to the back of the archontiko. He didn’t like feeling as if people were unhappy with him in general, and had been particularly dismayed at the notion of Theodora being so. This was a much better resolution.

That his cousin was less excited about the notion than he was not hard to see, and Achilleas let him gripe about it. He couldn’t be unhappy about the fact that Stephanos hadn’t taken a shine to Theodora. Girls who Stephanos took a shine to tended to shine back, and he knew he didn’t want that. The fact that he had a vested interest in whom she did or didn't like was a thought that he pushed away, for now, quietly opening the door that led into the cool tiled scullery and stepping inside.

There wasn’t anyone about, the large oaken table cleaned down, the fire gasping its last breaths in the grate, and as Stephanos went about trying to revive it, Achilleas slipped quickly through to his rooms to get himself something to wear that wasn’t so ridiculous looking. When he got back to find the Prince sitting and watching the logs sputter and spark as they caught, Achilleas came to stand beside him just in time to hear the 1I hope you know what you’re doing, she’s a right princess.'

For a moment, he froze, feeling called out and not quite knowing how to respond. What was he doing? He was just...being courteous. Yes, that was it. Achilleas didn’t dally with the young ladies of court. It wasn’t worth risking upsetting someone and incurring his father’s wrath. He was kept busy enough with the barony and other things. Besides, if he was that desperate for someone to warm his bed, some women would do so without attaching any expectation to it in exchange for a few coin. He really didn’t know what he was doing with Theodora. He just couldn’t seem to help himself.

Stalling for time, he flicked the drying cloth he’d picked up on his way from his room toward Stephanos and then moved to pick up the jug of water from the side as if he hadn’t heard the Prince’s comment at all “I thought you might want to wash the bird shit out of your hair” he commented lightly, taking a fraction too long with the water so he could get his answer straight.

“And I’m not doing anything other than being nice. It doesn’t do to part company on a quarrel, you know. Besides, her Uncle is one of my Father’s closest friends. The last thing I need is him getting wind of the idea that we’ve somehow offended Theodora of Leventi.”

He offered over the jug of water to his cousin and then disappeared into the cool stone pantry to select an amphora of wine, sniffing one and rejecting it in favour of another before he re-emerged and set it down on the table with a thunk. Finding where the cups were stored was a little more of a task, but soon he’d found three and laid them out too. Now all they needed was their company. And for his cousin not to ask any more awkward questions.

Stephanos’s attention was absorbed by the entrancing dance of fire as it crawled out beneath the logs, the yellow flames flickering a bit as though looking around, then appearing to notice the log and slither up its sides. A cloth landed on him, then, and he jumped. The cloth hand landed on Stephanos’s shoulder and he took it, looking at it, rather than his cousin as the man spoke. “I thought you might want to wash the bird shit out of your hair.”

“I suppose...they say it’s good luck to have a bird poop on you but it’s not brought me luck thus far.” He waited for the water, which he’d assumed was forthcoming quickly, only to find Achilleas babying it while talking. Stephanos stood up in the midst of Achilleas’s speech, moving to the table where the food was prepared and waiting for his cousin to bring over the jug, which he eventually did.

“And I’m not doing anything other than being nice. It doesn’t do to part company on a quarrel, you know. Besides, her Uncle is one of my Father’s closest friends. The last thing I need is him getting wind of the idea that we’ve somehow offended Theodora of Leventi.”

“Uh huh…” Stephanos dipped the rag into the water and rang it out, watching the drops squeeze satisfyingly out of the twist and into the bowl. “And her gorgeous face has nothing to do with it?” he checked as he ducked his head down to rub the cloth over it. In two rubs, he realized he shouldn’t have removed so much excess water and had to dip the rag again so that he could get a real wash going. “I don’t suppose you have soap somewhere abouts?”

He looked out to find Achilleas gone, though he could hear him messing around in the pantry. Stephanos made an impatient noise and wicked off his hair. Wandering around the kitchen with the rag on his head, water dripping onto his shoulders and down his neck, he spotted a bar of lard soap sitting near a wash bucket. That’d do.

The prince squatted down and took the soap to his hair, whirling it around a few times until it was nice and bubbly-sudsy. Then he dropped the brick back where he’d found it and went back to the wash basin to find Achilleas had thumped wine down on the table. “That’s the way,” Stephanos grinned. “You’re such a gentleman,” he said as he rinsed his hair.

He didn’t notice the door opening but he felt the change in the air as a cool draft wafted against him. He glanced at her from where he was bent over the wash basin and gave her a brief nod as she slipped into the room. He was mostly done anyway. She moved towards them and Stephanos straightened up, leaving the rag in a pile. His hair still stuck up in gold tufts but they were clean now, rather than white with bird poop.

“I think we can all agree not to swim together again, huh?” She sounded like she was attempting a tease but it came out half hearted.

Stephanos shrugged and took the jug to pour himself wine. He then decided to fill the cups of the other two and pushed their glasses towards them. “Oh, I don’t know,” he mused. “I think some horses, a creek, afternoon ride...that might fix a lot. Picnic? Who knows? Maybe,” and here he winked, his teasing stronger than hers at the moment. “Maybe Achilleas might get bird poop on him next time. You should be so lucky, cousin.”

Theodora was quietly relieved that no one seemed to be angry when she arrived; after all, she had just told a prince she hoped a bird shit in his mouth, so she wasn’t exactly expecting fuzzy warmth on her entrance. The Leventi girl knew her sassy tongue had a tendency to get her in trouble, and time would never really come to temper that trait, either. She typically felt bad and apologized after the fact, but it didn’t stop her tongue wagging in the first place.

Then again, he also deserved it after rubbing it on her dress. That was rude.

But she was here to play nice now, so she wasn’t going to mention it again. Smiling at Achilleas when he pulled the chair out for her, she swept her skirt out of the way and sat down. “An afternoon ride and a picnic sound lovely, but I think I can do without the creek,” she replied to the prince’s tease with a lop-sided smirk of her own. There was even a little flutter in her belly at his wink, but she quickly shook it off. Gods help her if she was charmed that easily. “That, or I’ll just dip my toes in. I think I’ve learned my lesson for a while.”

Taking up the glass of wine in front of her, she busied her nervous hands by wrapping them around it, drawing it up to her mouth and taking a long swallow. ‘You were not caught making your way out again then?’ Glancing over at Achilleas and setting the cup back down, she shook her head. Obviously not, or she wouldn’t be here, but she kept that bit to herself. Her snark had already gotten her into enough shit tonight, and Achilleas was hardly deserving of it. He hadn’t done anything.

‘You… thought quickly on your feet before,’ he went on, and she smirked again. “Try growing up with four sisters, and you’ll learn to lie too. Little bitches always blaming everyone for everything.” Chuckling, she shook her head. “I hope it doesn’t hurt us later, too. Lord Gavriil did not seem that concerned, though. Hopefully he’ll just write it off as drunken nonsense and never mention it again.”

Though, she would remain mortified by his intrusion as long as she lived. Really, could he have walked up at a worse time? Okay, yes. At least he hadn’t seen them galivanting about in the water practically nude. They surely would not have gotten off without consequence then.

Glancing somewhat anxiously down the adjacent hall, she took another swallow of her wine. “We aren’t going to get caught down here, are we? Does any of your family typically keep late hours, Achilleas?”