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The Athenian Harvest Festival is one of great cheer and celebration. A nation that can sustain itself with a vibrant diversity of produce creates a plethora of colour and scent every year when harvest time is brought to a close and the yield of the lands is brought to the capital. In past years there have been dancers, musicians, entertainers and celebrations over the new season of winter and this year is no different. A few smiles are more painted and there is significantly less product due to the hot summer but the Athenians of the land are eager to carry on as normal and see the Festival brought to its glory once more.
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The Athenian Harvest Festival is one of great cheer and celebration. A nation that can sustain itself with a vibrant diversity of produce creates a plethora of colour and scent every year when harvest time is brought to a close and the yield of the lands is brought to the capital. In past years there have been dancers, musicians, entertainers and celebrations over the new season of winter and this year is no different. A few smiles are more painted and there is significantly less product due to the hot summer but the Athenians of the land are eager to carry on as normal and see the Festival brought to its glory once more.
Resting On Golden Laurels Event - Athenia
The Athenian Harvest Festival is one of great cheer and celebration. A nation that can sustain itself with a vibrant diversity of produce creates a plethora of colour and scent every year when harvest time is brought to a close and the yield of the lands is brought to the capital. In past years there have been dancers, musicians, entertainers and celebrations over the new season of winter and this year is no different. A few smiles are more painted and there is significantly less product due to the hot summer but the Athenians of the land are eager to carry on as normal and see the Festival brought to its glory once more.
After so long of being in the palace, one would think Emilia would enjoy trips outside of the palati. And in truth, she did ... at least, up until that disastrous day at the Loutra. Ever since then, Emilia had been conscious about eyes on her. What did they think of her? Did everyone feel that way about her in athenia? Was she not living up to their expectations? What was she to do? Emilia had never felt as loss as she had right now, drawing a complete blank on what was her next step to be, other then to ask Elias. Yet the answers given to her by the Stravos lord seemed roundabout, words that she could never understand fully, no matter how hard she tried.
Emilia's answer to the question on whether she wanted to attend the Harvest festival had been neutral, but she found herself bundled upon the carriage to bring them to the Central Palateia before she knew it. Dressed in a chiton the color of burnt orange, it was decorated with a golden belt chinched at her waist, along with gold fibulae's in the shape of a swan over both shoulders. The remaining material flowed down her arms like a bright orange waterfall, whilst atop her loose brunette curls sat a tiara of wound ivy leaves that matched the bangles around both wrists. Looking like a vision of a harvest goddess, Emilia however, certainly didn't feel the way she dressed.
Instead, the look upon the princess's face was only a shadow of what she used to be. Perhaps that was why they no longer called her a the Meraki Princess? She had much on her mind, far more then the past seventeen years of her life, that it showed on her face. Smiling now felt like it took a huge effort, even as she peered out the carriage windows on the way to the location of the festival. Was it her imagination, or were there less laughter, less smiles and less joyous occasions now? Did they even have a reason to be happy anymore?
The princess wasn't even sure itself. But at the very least she knew, she couldn't keep pulling the long face. As they arrived, Emilia took a deep breathe, and arranged the burnt orange silken material around her legs just as the door to the vehicle opened. Waiting for the assisting hand of the footmen, the princess stepped down with the golden laced slippers, a smile somehow finding its way to her lips as the bright sunshine and vibrant colors hit her. She took a deep breathe, nostalgia hitting her as she recalled the various other Harvest festivals she had attended together with her sister and father, and the excitement stirred in her chest, everything else flying out of her head as the nerves hit her that she'd be facing the people of Athenia as likely a changed young lady. Would things have been different if Minas had not wanted to push for the change that much? Maybe.
But now, she could only make the best of the situation.
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After so long of being in the palace, one would think Emilia would enjoy trips outside of the palati. And in truth, she did ... at least, up until that disastrous day at the Loutra. Ever since then, Emilia had been conscious about eyes on her. What did they think of her? Did everyone feel that way about her in athenia? Was she not living up to their expectations? What was she to do? Emilia had never felt as loss as she had right now, drawing a complete blank on what was her next step to be, other then to ask Elias. Yet the answers given to her by the Stravos lord seemed roundabout, words that she could never understand fully, no matter how hard she tried.
Emilia's answer to the question on whether she wanted to attend the Harvest festival had been neutral, but she found herself bundled upon the carriage to bring them to the Central Palateia before she knew it. Dressed in a chiton the color of burnt orange, it was decorated with a golden belt chinched at her waist, along with gold fibulae's in the shape of a swan over both shoulders. The remaining material flowed down her arms like a bright orange waterfall, whilst atop her loose brunette curls sat a tiara of wound ivy leaves that matched the bangles around both wrists. Looking like a vision of a harvest goddess, Emilia however, certainly didn't feel the way she dressed.
Instead, the look upon the princess's face was only a shadow of what she used to be. Perhaps that was why they no longer called her a the Meraki Princess? She had much on her mind, far more then the past seventeen years of her life, that it showed on her face. Smiling now felt like it took a huge effort, even as she peered out the carriage windows on the way to the location of the festival. Was it her imagination, or were there less laughter, less smiles and less joyous occasions now? Did they even have a reason to be happy anymore?
The princess wasn't even sure itself. But at the very least she knew, she couldn't keep pulling the long face. As they arrived, Emilia took a deep breathe, and arranged the burnt orange silken material around her legs just as the door to the vehicle opened. Waiting for the assisting hand of the footmen, the princess stepped down with the golden laced slippers, a smile somehow finding its way to her lips as the bright sunshine and vibrant colors hit her. She took a deep breathe, nostalgia hitting her as she recalled the various other Harvest festivals she had attended together with her sister and father, and the excitement stirred in her chest, everything else flying out of her head as the nerves hit her that she'd be facing the people of Athenia as likely a changed young lady. Would things have been different if Minas had not wanted to push for the change that much? Maybe.
But now, she could only make the best of the situation.
After so long of being in the palace, one would think Emilia would enjoy trips outside of the palati. And in truth, she did ... at least, up until that disastrous day at the Loutra. Ever since then, Emilia had been conscious about eyes on her. What did they think of her? Did everyone feel that way about her in athenia? Was she not living up to their expectations? What was she to do? Emilia had never felt as loss as she had right now, drawing a complete blank on what was her next step to be, other then to ask Elias. Yet the answers given to her by the Stravos lord seemed roundabout, words that she could never understand fully, no matter how hard she tried.
Emilia's answer to the question on whether she wanted to attend the Harvest festival had been neutral, but she found herself bundled upon the carriage to bring them to the Central Palateia before she knew it. Dressed in a chiton the color of burnt orange, it was decorated with a golden belt chinched at her waist, along with gold fibulae's in the shape of a swan over both shoulders. The remaining material flowed down her arms like a bright orange waterfall, whilst atop her loose brunette curls sat a tiara of wound ivy leaves that matched the bangles around both wrists. Looking like a vision of a harvest goddess, Emilia however, certainly didn't feel the way she dressed.
Instead, the look upon the princess's face was only a shadow of what she used to be. Perhaps that was why they no longer called her a the Meraki Princess? She had much on her mind, far more then the past seventeen years of her life, that it showed on her face. Smiling now felt like it took a huge effort, even as she peered out the carriage windows on the way to the location of the festival. Was it her imagination, or were there less laughter, less smiles and less joyous occasions now? Did they even have a reason to be happy anymore?
The princess wasn't even sure itself. But at the very least she knew, she couldn't keep pulling the long face. As they arrived, Emilia took a deep breathe, and arranged the burnt orange silken material around her legs just as the door to the vehicle opened. Waiting for the assisting hand of the footmen, the princess stepped down with the golden laced slippers, a smile somehow finding its way to her lips as the bright sunshine and vibrant colors hit her. She took a deep breathe, nostalgia hitting her as she recalled the various other Harvest festivals she had attended together with her sister and father, and the excitement stirred in her chest, everything else flying out of her head as the nerves hit her that she'd be facing the people of Athenia as likely a changed young lady. Would things have been different if Minas had not wanted to push for the change that much? Maybe.
But now, she could only make the best of the situation.
Ismene stared down at the copper bangled bracelets around her wrists, a small smile hid the fact she was gritting her teeth as she bobbed her head softly in reply to the person standing before her who’d obviously confused her with Ariadne. It was a common problem when you were a twin but there were so many times that Ismene could stand the dull chatter that people often approached Ariadne with.
It wasn’t something she held against her sister, no one could hold anything against Ariadne even if they wanted to. If she hadn’t been Ismene’s sister, she’d have hated Ariadne with all of the passion of a green-eyed monster. Like Ismene, she was blessed with enchanting looks. Perfect golden-blonde hair, high cheekbones, a straight nose, and slightly upturned greyish-blue eyes. The difference was that Ismene was usually only smiling if she was laughing at someone while Ariadne had a warm sweetness that made people want to linger and simply bask in her presence. Ismene had not inherited that particular charm.
‘... and so I told the palace house staff that carnations really shouldn’t be placed in the grand foyer, especially those awful pink ones.’ The woman tittered. The piggy snort the woman pushed the curvy little blonde over the edge.
“I am sorry but who are you again?” Ismene settled unimpressed eyes on the woman, deciding not to disguise her crossness. The woman deserved it. This festival was supposed to be fun and she wanted to explore the various vendors, listen to musicians and entertainers and this boorish pest was preventing her fun.
‘Well… I never…’ Staring blandly at the woman as she gasped and sputtered about like a fish that had just jumped onto a shoreline and was now flopping about hoping to flop themselves back into the water again. If she narrowed her eyes just slightly she could almost picture a fish head on the robust woman’s body. It really was a disturbing image. Ismene’s lips pursed into a thin line and shook her head firmly.
“I think you must have me confused with my sister.” Ismene inspected her bangles, while she’d not said it, it was clearly a dismissal of the woman. The woman, whose name she’d still not received stared at her for a moment, but it was a moment too long. Ismene’s head came up and she cleared her throat simply staring down the woman until the lady made her excuses and scuttered away leaving Ismene in peace.
It was the second time in a very short time that mistake had been made and patience wasn’t exactly one of Ismene’s virtues.
Drawing her eyes around the central plateia at the entire affair of the festival, she didn’t want to admit it but it seemed somehow anti-climatical. Supplies and crops were precious and she could understand some of the pained expressions she glimpsed when people thought they were not seen. Shifting her weight, she turned slowly shifting from the vendors to people mingling within the crowd. But there were a couple of faces in particular that she was searching out. She’d told Lord Adrestus that she’d meet him here and… Ismene looked up at the sun using it to gauge the time. He is late.
With a heavy sigh, she rolled her eyes. Well, I am not waiting all day for him… he can come and find me when he deigns to finally show up. In an easy, rolling walk she started to weave through the vendors pausing occasionally to give a second look at wares before she kept on moving. The peachy toned chiton she wore wasn’t the most expensive fabric but it didn’t need to be. It dipped more deeply than her father would have approved of. But what was the fun of having a delightfully curve figure if it wasn’t meant to be admired? Hmmm? Her flaxen hair was streaked with a mixture of sandy blonde, wheat gold, and even deep warmed honey color; and was swept back into a loose ponytail that was decorated with delicate, finely woven wildflower headband.
Something sparkled and caught her eye. Pausing over a vendor’s table, her head bowed she fingered a bracelet and chewed on her lip. It was a beautiful piece maybe she could fashion something similar in design on her own for Ariadne. With a sigh, she stepped backward to continue on her path to the musician she’d heard playing.
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Check out their information page here.
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Ismene stared down at the copper bangled bracelets around her wrists, a small smile hid the fact she was gritting her teeth as she bobbed her head softly in reply to the person standing before her who’d obviously confused her with Ariadne. It was a common problem when you were a twin but there were so many times that Ismene could stand the dull chatter that people often approached Ariadne with.
It wasn’t something she held against her sister, no one could hold anything against Ariadne even if they wanted to. If she hadn’t been Ismene’s sister, she’d have hated Ariadne with all of the passion of a green-eyed monster. Like Ismene, she was blessed with enchanting looks. Perfect golden-blonde hair, high cheekbones, a straight nose, and slightly upturned greyish-blue eyes. The difference was that Ismene was usually only smiling if she was laughing at someone while Ariadne had a warm sweetness that made people want to linger and simply bask in her presence. Ismene had not inherited that particular charm.
‘... and so I told the palace house staff that carnations really shouldn’t be placed in the grand foyer, especially those awful pink ones.’ The woman tittered. The piggy snort the woman pushed the curvy little blonde over the edge.
“I am sorry but who are you again?” Ismene settled unimpressed eyes on the woman, deciding not to disguise her crossness. The woman deserved it. This festival was supposed to be fun and she wanted to explore the various vendors, listen to musicians and entertainers and this boorish pest was preventing her fun.
‘Well… I never…’ Staring blandly at the woman as she gasped and sputtered about like a fish that had just jumped onto a shoreline and was now flopping about hoping to flop themselves back into the water again. If she narrowed her eyes just slightly she could almost picture a fish head on the robust woman’s body. It really was a disturbing image. Ismene’s lips pursed into a thin line and shook her head firmly.
“I think you must have me confused with my sister.” Ismene inspected her bangles, while she’d not said it, it was clearly a dismissal of the woman. The woman, whose name she’d still not received stared at her for a moment, but it was a moment too long. Ismene’s head came up and she cleared her throat simply staring down the woman until the lady made her excuses and scuttered away leaving Ismene in peace.
It was the second time in a very short time that mistake had been made and patience wasn’t exactly one of Ismene’s virtues.
Drawing her eyes around the central plateia at the entire affair of the festival, she didn’t want to admit it but it seemed somehow anti-climatical. Supplies and crops were precious and she could understand some of the pained expressions she glimpsed when people thought they were not seen. Shifting her weight, she turned slowly shifting from the vendors to people mingling within the crowd. But there were a couple of faces in particular that she was searching out. She’d told Lord Adrestus that she’d meet him here and… Ismene looked up at the sun using it to gauge the time. He is late.
With a heavy sigh, she rolled her eyes. Well, I am not waiting all day for him… he can come and find me when he deigns to finally show up. In an easy, rolling walk she started to weave through the vendors pausing occasionally to give a second look at wares before she kept on moving. The peachy toned chiton she wore wasn’t the most expensive fabric but it didn’t need to be. It dipped more deeply than her father would have approved of. But what was the fun of having a delightfully curve figure if it wasn’t meant to be admired? Hmmm? Her flaxen hair was streaked with a mixture of sandy blonde, wheat gold, and even deep warmed honey color; and was swept back into a loose ponytail that was decorated with delicate, finely woven wildflower headband.
Something sparkled and caught her eye. Pausing over a vendor’s table, her head bowed she fingered a bracelet and chewed on her lip. It was a beautiful piece maybe she could fashion something similar in design on her own for Ariadne. With a sigh, she stepped backward to continue on her path to the musician she’d heard playing.
Ismene stared down at the copper bangled bracelets around her wrists, a small smile hid the fact she was gritting her teeth as she bobbed her head softly in reply to the person standing before her who’d obviously confused her with Ariadne. It was a common problem when you were a twin but there were so many times that Ismene could stand the dull chatter that people often approached Ariadne with.
It wasn’t something she held against her sister, no one could hold anything against Ariadne even if they wanted to. If she hadn’t been Ismene’s sister, she’d have hated Ariadne with all of the passion of a green-eyed monster. Like Ismene, she was blessed with enchanting looks. Perfect golden-blonde hair, high cheekbones, a straight nose, and slightly upturned greyish-blue eyes. The difference was that Ismene was usually only smiling if she was laughing at someone while Ariadne had a warm sweetness that made people want to linger and simply bask in her presence. Ismene had not inherited that particular charm.
‘... and so I told the palace house staff that carnations really shouldn’t be placed in the grand foyer, especially those awful pink ones.’ The woman tittered. The piggy snort the woman pushed the curvy little blonde over the edge.
“I am sorry but who are you again?” Ismene settled unimpressed eyes on the woman, deciding not to disguise her crossness. The woman deserved it. This festival was supposed to be fun and she wanted to explore the various vendors, listen to musicians and entertainers and this boorish pest was preventing her fun.
‘Well… I never…’ Staring blandly at the woman as she gasped and sputtered about like a fish that had just jumped onto a shoreline and was now flopping about hoping to flop themselves back into the water again. If she narrowed her eyes just slightly she could almost picture a fish head on the robust woman’s body. It really was a disturbing image. Ismene’s lips pursed into a thin line and shook her head firmly.
“I think you must have me confused with my sister.” Ismene inspected her bangles, while she’d not said it, it was clearly a dismissal of the woman. The woman, whose name she’d still not received stared at her for a moment, but it was a moment too long. Ismene’s head came up and she cleared her throat simply staring down the woman until the lady made her excuses and scuttered away leaving Ismene in peace.
It was the second time in a very short time that mistake had been made and patience wasn’t exactly one of Ismene’s virtues.
Drawing her eyes around the central plateia at the entire affair of the festival, she didn’t want to admit it but it seemed somehow anti-climatical. Supplies and crops were precious and she could understand some of the pained expressions she glimpsed when people thought they were not seen. Shifting her weight, she turned slowly shifting from the vendors to people mingling within the crowd. But there were a couple of faces in particular that she was searching out. She’d told Lord Adrestus that she’d meet him here and… Ismene looked up at the sun using it to gauge the time. He is late.
With a heavy sigh, she rolled her eyes. Well, I am not waiting all day for him… he can come and find me when he deigns to finally show up. In an easy, rolling walk she started to weave through the vendors pausing occasionally to give a second look at wares before she kept on moving. The peachy toned chiton she wore wasn’t the most expensive fabric but it didn’t need to be. It dipped more deeply than her father would have approved of. But what was the fun of having a delightfully curve figure if it wasn’t meant to be admired? Hmmm? Her flaxen hair was streaked with a mixture of sandy blonde, wheat gold, and even deep warmed honey color; and was swept back into a loose ponytail that was decorated with delicate, finely woven wildflower headband.
Something sparkled and caught her eye. Pausing over a vendor’s table, her head bowed she fingered a bracelet and chewed on her lip. It was a beautiful piece maybe she could fashion something similar in design on her own for Ariadne. With a sigh, she stepped backward to continue on her path to the musician she’d heard playing.
The day before made him want to pack up and leave the minute his father stopped speaking. You need to settle down, Adrestus and you need to be making sure you will be ready when I can no longer be Baron, Adrestus rang through his ears as he let out a tired sigh. Adrestus didn't know what he wanted. His father was acting like he had been ignoring them all and doing nothing all of his life. It was the opposite. Adrestus had been working for his family, keeping the wealth from his trading business within his family and deepening their connection with the outside world. How could his father think that he had been simply playing around?! Just because he didn't sit down with books and interact with politics, didn't mean he wasn't loyal to his family. Did father think he was going to run away? As if…. Adrestus cringed at the memory of how he reacted to his father yesterday. He regretted the eye roll that had caused his father to be even more upset. He regretted that he had made his father think that he wasn't taking anything seriously… Adrestus was. He was here in Athenia, wasn't he? He was listening to his father… Adrestus didn't like being accused of not caring and felt as though his father was taking things much too seriously. But of course, today, Adrestus was expected to deal with the consequences. He was allowed to go to the festival, but… tomorrow, he would be re-starting his training to make sure he'd be prepared to become baron when the time arose.
Fuck.
Adrestus didn't dare to protest, seeing as his father was already angry, but he couldn't help feel his own rage. It was as if nothing he had done counted for anything; his father only cared about what he wanted. Adrestus got dressed for the festival- wearing light colors, and making sure he looked like the noble he was. Gods help him if his father found out he looked like a sailor at the festival, and he was sure he'd be punished even harsher. He was told that he shouldn't drink, shouldn't party, and to be prepared to have a clear head for tomorrow he'd be studying. Adrestus wanted to throw the rules back in Father's face, but he quietly accepted. He knew full well that he'd be drinking. He knew that Ismene was going to be there with him, so even with the rules, he wasn't planning to get completely intoxicated, but he wasn't going to be dry. There was no way. He got ready to go, and once he was, he left his family's home where he was staying while in Athenia.
He arrived at the harvest festival and smiled to try to rest his nerves. He felt angry at his father and restless about what was going to happen tomorrow. He was sure he could convince his father to put his punishment off by some time, but… everything was up in the air. For now, he planned to enjoy the festival fully. But first, he had to find Ismene. He was sure she was already here- he had been busy getting ready and trying to control his anger in his whole situation. He glanced over at the venders, but nothing stood out to him. He wondered if he should get something for his sister Cyrene…. Probably, but that was something he should do for later.
He glanced through the crowds and ran his fingers through his hair. He noticed Emilia and, while he wanted to greet her, he was increasingly getting worried that he couldn't find his friend. Adrestus let out a sigh, trying to get the image of Hector killing him for losing Ismene even before he got to the festival. He started to move faster, and finally, he found her. Adrestus let out a laugh and walked over to Ismene, and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Ismene, I'm here," Adrestus spoke, relieved to have found his friend. Now the party could start. He moved closer to her, glancing around again."I saw Princess Emilia back there, we should greet her highness some time tonight," He couldn't imagine what she was going through and the least they could do was go say hello and wish her well. He wondered who else was there…. He glanced over at the musician Ismene had been watching, before looking back to his friend. "You want to grab something to eat?" He asked, wondering what they wanted to do first. He was a little hungry, but he also increasingly wanted to get access to a drink. He couldn't get his father's words out of his head from yesterday, and all he wanted to do was to enjoy himself. "Also, I would like to find some wine… My father was ridiculous yesterday."
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The day before made him want to pack up and leave the minute his father stopped speaking. You need to settle down, Adrestus and you need to be making sure you will be ready when I can no longer be Baron, Adrestus rang through his ears as he let out a tired sigh. Adrestus didn't know what he wanted. His father was acting like he had been ignoring them all and doing nothing all of his life. It was the opposite. Adrestus had been working for his family, keeping the wealth from his trading business within his family and deepening their connection with the outside world. How could his father think that he had been simply playing around?! Just because he didn't sit down with books and interact with politics, didn't mean he wasn't loyal to his family. Did father think he was going to run away? As if…. Adrestus cringed at the memory of how he reacted to his father yesterday. He regretted the eye roll that had caused his father to be even more upset. He regretted that he had made his father think that he wasn't taking anything seriously… Adrestus was. He was here in Athenia, wasn't he? He was listening to his father… Adrestus didn't like being accused of not caring and felt as though his father was taking things much too seriously. But of course, today, Adrestus was expected to deal with the consequences. He was allowed to go to the festival, but… tomorrow, he would be re-starting his training to make sure he'd be prepared to become baron when the time arose.
Fuck.
Adrestus didn't dare to protest, seeing as his father was already angry, but he couldn't help feel his own rage. It was as if nothing he had done counted for anything; his father only cared about what he wanted. Adrestus got dressed for the festival- wearing light colors, and making sure he looked like the noble he was. Gods help him if his father found out he looked like a sailor at the festival, and he was sure he'd be punished even harsher. He was told that he shouldn't drink, shouldn't party, and to be prepared to have a clear head for tomorrow he'd be studying. Adrestus wanted to throw the rules back in Father's face, but he quietly accepted. He knew full well that he'd be drinking. He knew that Ismene was going to be there with him, so even with the rules, he wasn't planning to get completely intoxicated, but he wasn't going to be dry. There was no way. He got ready to go, and once he was, he left his family's home where he was staying while in Athenia.
He arrived at the harvest festival and smiled to try to rest his nerves. He felt angry at his father and restless about what was going to happen tomorrow. He was sure he could convince his father to put his punishment off by some time, but… everything was up in the air. For now, he planned to enjoy the festival fully. But first, he had to find Ismene. He was sure she was already here- he had been busy getting ready and trying to control his anger in his whole situation. He glanced over at the venders, but nothing stood out to him. He wondered if he should get something for his sister Cyrene…. Probably, but that was something he should do for later.
He glanced through the crowds and ran his fingers through his hair. He noticed Emilia and, while he wanted to greet her, he was increasingly getting worried that he couldn't find his friend. Adrestus let out a sigh, trying to get the image of Hector killing him for losing Ismene even before he got to the festival. He started to move faster, and finally, he found her. Adrestus let out a laugh and walked over to Ismene, and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Ismene, I'm here," Adrestus spoke, relieved to have found his friend. Now the party could start. He moved closer to her, glancing around again."I saw Princess Emilia back there, we should greet her highness some time tonight," He couldn't imagine what she was going through and the least they could do was go say hello and wish her well. He wondered who else was there…. He glanced over at the musician Ismene had been watching, before looking back to his friend. "You want to grab something to eat?" He asked, wondering what they wanted to do first. He was a little hungry, but he also increasingly wanted to get access to a drink. He couldn't get his father's words out of his head from yesterday, and all he wanted to do was to enjoy himself. "Also, I would like to find some wine… My father was ridiculous yesterday."
The day before made him want to pack up and leave the minute his father stopped speaking. You need to settle down, Adrestus and you need to be making sure you will be ready when I can no longer be Baron, Adrestus rang through his ears as he let out a tired sigh. Adrestus didn't know what he wanted. His father was acting like he had been ignoring them all and doing nothing all of his life. It was the opposite. Adrestus had been working for his family, keeping the wealth from his trading business within his family and deepening their connection with the outside world. How could his father think that he had been simply playing around?! Just because he didn't sit down with books and interact with politics, didn't mean he wasn't loyal to his family. Did father think he was going to run away? As if…. Adrestus cringed at the memory of how he reacted to his father yesterday. He regretted the eye roll that had caused his father to be even more upset. He regretted that he had made his father think that he wasn't taking anything seriously… Adrestus was. He was here in Athenia, wasn't he? He was listening to his father… Adrestus didn't like being accused of not caring and felt as though his father was taking things much too seriously. But of course, today, Adrestus was expected to deal with the consequences. He was allowed to go to the festival, but… tomorrow, he would be re-starting his training to make sure he'd be prepared to become baron when the time arose.
Fuck.
Adrestus didn't dare to protest, seeing as his father was already angry, but he couldn't help feel his own rage. It was as if nothing he had done counted for anything; his father only cared about what he wanted. Adrestus got dressed for the festival- wearing light colors, and making sure he looked like the noble he was. Gods help him if his father found out he looked like a sailor at the festival, and he was sure he'd be punished even harsher. He was told that he shouldn't drink, shouldn't party, and to be prepared to have a clear head for tomorrow he'd be studying. Adrestus wanted to throw the rules back in Father's face, but he quietly accepted. He knew full well that he'd be drinking. He knew that Ismene was going to be there with him, so even with the rules, he wasn't planning to get completely intoxicated, but he wasn't going to be dry. There was no way. He got ready to go, and once he was, he left his family's home where he was staying while in Athenia.
He arrived at the harvest festival and smiled to try to rest his nerves. He felt angry at his father and restless about what was going to happen tomorrow. He was sure he could convince his father to put his punishment off by some time, but… everything was up in the air. For now, he planned to enjoy the festival fully. But first, he had to find Ismene. He was sure she was already here- he had been busy getting ready and trying to control his anger in his whole situation. He glanced over at the venders, but nothing stood out to him. He wondered if he should get something for his sister Cyrene…. Probably, but that was something he should do for later.
He glanced through the crowds and ran his fingers through his hair. He noticed Emilia and, while he wanted to greet her, he was increasingly getting worried that he couldn't find his friend. Adrestus let out a sigh, trying to get the image of Hector killing him for losing Ismene even before he got to the festival. He started to move faster, and finally, he found her. Adrestus let out a laugh and walked over to Ismene, and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Ismene, I'm here," Adrestus spoke, relieved to have found his friend. Now the party could start. He moved closer to her, glancing around again."I saw Princess Emilia back there, we should greet her highness some time tonight," He couldn't imagine what she was going through and the least they could do was go say hello and wish her well. He wondered who else was there…. He glanced over at the musician Ismene had been watching, before looking back to his friend. "You want to grab something to eat?" He asked, wondering what they wanted to do first. He was a little hungry, but he also increasingly wanted to get access to a drink. He couldn't get his father's words out of his head from yesterday, and all he wanted to do was to enjoy himself. "Also, I would like to find some wine… My father was ridiculous yesterday."
There was absolutely nothing mediocre about the way Ismene lived her life. It was simple she had a focus and an intensity that was unique to her. Even being disinterested or bored was done with intensity. Staring at the musician intently, she let herself become lost in the song. She wasn’t particularly passionate about music or a lot of types of art, she sketched a little but most of her sketching was more of the technical variety, not the artistic. Like a carpenter, she intricately sketched designs only hers were of the body or plants. There was no beauty in her drawings only truth, but perhaps if you could find beauty in truth you could find beauty in her drawings.
The music she was drawn too less for the sounds of it but rather the stories that were woven within them. It was like watching a play only the words were woven in a pleasant melody. It was complex like some puzzle but beautiful nonetheless. So lost was she that she didn’t hear the footsteps come up behind her, only felt the fingers that softly nudged her shoulder. She’d never been particularly jumpy, even when startled, her body would freeze instead of jerking or jumping away from the threat. Even if she had of been startled, the instant the familiar voice said her name she would have softened.
‘Ismene, I'm here.’ Leaning her head backward, she threw a golden smile up at him as she replied cheekily, “So I see.” Her wet-ash grey eyes softened, “I’m glad you finally made it. I was worried you had broken my record for never having been stood up before.” The corner of her lip lifted into a teasingly sardonic smirk as she fickly turned her attention away from the musician and onto Lord Adrestus as he shifted closer and glanced about, ‘I saw Princess Emilia back there, we should greet her highness some time tonight.’ A quick glance in the same direction, she sighed inwardly and nodded in agreement. Ismene wasn’t quite ready to share her newly returned friend with anyone else but if that was what he wanted of her… she’d play nicely. She liked the younger princess, although they had never run quite in the same circles. Her sister was much better at running in those circles than she was.
Flicking her glance back to Lord Adrestus, she tried not to snicker a little as she reached out and teasingly gave a little tug on the fabric covering his chest, “Look at you all cleaned up! You are positively adorable. I would never have guessed you be a co-conspirator to mischief all dressed up like that.” Without shifting a second glance at the musician, her teasing smile widened. Oh, she knew exactly why he was ready to go get something to eat. Now, the real question was… Is he going to let me have a glass of wine too?
The curvy little blonde pulled her eyes away from him as she slowly looked over the nearby vendors of the festival. As he spoke of his father, her teasing evaporated and became more serious. ‘Also, I would like to find some wine… My father was ridiculous yesterday.’ Ismene frowned and fixed her friend with a sympathetic look as she reached out and gave his forearm a squeeze.
“Let’s get you some wine and see if we can make today a better day,” She offered, and her hand slipped politely back to her side. He wasn’t even home for a month and his father was already badgering him again. “And after you are nice and intoxicated I will pull some of those sordid sailor stories that I am not supposed to hear about from you…”
Ismene threw him another faint smile, “You know I am here if you need to talk or you need an expert to help you plan your runaway. But drinks first, you should never runaway hungry or thirsty. So lead the way because yes. I am famished. Feed me. Give me wine.” She batted her lashes prettily at him with a practiced coyness that she’d learned since he’d been gone. The corner of her mouth lifted again, showing off a dimple as she added cheekily, “Please.” She teased and added blinking her devious grey eyes innocently at him, “See, I do have manners. Don’t listen to what my father tells you about me… It’s lies. All lies.”
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There was absolutely nothing mediocre about the way Ismene lived her life. It was simple she had a focus and an intensity that was unique to her. Even being disinterested or bored was done with intensity. Staring at the musician intently, she let herself become lost in the song. She wasn’t particularly passionate about music or a lot of types of art, she sketched a little but most of her sketching was more of the technical variety, not the artistic. Like a carpenter, she intricately sketched designs only hers were of the body or plants. There was no beauty in her drawings only truth, but perhaps if you could find beauty in truth you could find beauty in her drawings.
The music she was drawn too less for the sounds of it but rather the stories that were woven within them. It was like watching a play only the words were woven in a pleasant melody. It was complex like some puzzle but beautiful nonetheless. So lost was she that she didn’t hear the footsteps come up behind her, only felt the fingers that softly nudged her shoulder. She’d never been particularly jumpy, even when startled, her body would freeze instead of jerking or jumping away from the threat. Even if she had of been startled, the instant the familiar voice said her name she would have softened.
‘Ismene, I'm here.’ Leaning her head backward, she threw a golden smile up at him as she replied cheekily, “So I see.” Her wet-ash grey eyes softened, “I’m glad you finally made it. I was worried you had broken my record for never having been stood up before.” The corner of her lip lifted into a teasingly sardonic smirk as she fickly turned her attention away from the musician and onto Lord Adrestus as he shifted closer and glanced about, ‘I saw Princess Emilia back there, we should greet her highness some time tonight.’ A quick glance in the same direction, she sighed inwardly and nodded in agreement. Ismene wasn’t quite ready to share her newly returned friend with anyone else but if that was what he wanted of her… she’d play nicely. She liked the younger princess, although they had never run quite in the same circles. Her sister was much better at running in those circles than she was.
Flicking her glance back to Lord Adrestus, she tried not to snicker a little as she reached out and teasingly gave a little tug on the fabric covering his chest, “Look at you all cleaned up! You are positively adorable. I would never have guessed you be a co-conspirator to mischief all dressed up like that.” Without shifting a second glance at the musician, her teasing smile widened. Oh, she knew exactly why he was ready to go get something to eat. Now, the real question was… Is he going to let me have a glass of wine too?
The curvy little blonde pulled her eyes away from him as she slowly looked over the nearby vendors of the festival. As he spoke of his father, her teasing evaporated and became more serious. ‘Also, I would like to find some wine… My father was ridiculous yesterday.’ Ismene frowned and fixed her friend with a sympathetic look as she reached out and gave his forearm a squeeze.
“Let’s get you some wine and see if we can make today a better day,” She offered, and her hand slipped politely back to her side. He wasn’t even home for a month and his father was already badgering him again. “And after you are nice and intoxicated I will pull some of those sordid sailor stories that I am not supposed to hear about from you…”
Ismene threw him another faint smile, “You know I am here if you need to talk or you need an expert to help you plan your runaway. But drinks first, you should never runaway hungry or thirsty. So lead the way because yes. I am famished. Feed me. Give me wine.” She batted her lashes prettily at him with a practiced coyness that she’d learned since he’d been gone. The corner of her mouth lifted again, showing off a dimple as she added cheekily, “Please.” She teased and added blinking her devious grey eyes innocently at him, “See, I do have manners. Don’t listen to what my father tells you about me… It’s lies. All lies.”
There was absolutely nothing mediocre about the way Ismene lived her life. It was simple she had a focus and an intensity that was unique to her. Even being disinterested or bored was done with intensity. Staring at the musician intently, she let herself become lost in the song. She wasn’t particularly passionate about music or a lot of types of art, she sketched a little but most of her sketching was more of the technical variety, not the artistic. Like a carpenter, she intricately sketched designs only hers were of the body or plants. There was no beauty in her drawings only truth, but perhaps if you could find beauty in truth you could find beauty in her drawings.
The music she was drawn too less for the sounds of it but rather the stories that were woven within them. It was like watching a play only the words were woven in a pleasant melody. It was complex like some puzzle but beautiful nonetheless. So lost was she that she didn’t hear the footsteps come up behind her, only felt the fingers that softly nudged her shoulder. She’d never been particularly jumpy, even when startled, her body would freeze instead of jerking or jumping away from the threat. Even if she had of been startled, the instant the familiar voice said her name she would have softened.
‘Ismene, I'm here.’ Leaning her head backward, she threw a golden smile up at him as she replied cheekily, “So I see.” Her wet-ash grey eyes softened, “I’m glad you finally made it. I was worried you had broken my record for never having been stood up before.” The corner of her lip lifted into a teasingly sardonic smirk as she fickly turned her attention away from the musician and onto Lord Adrestus as he shifted closer and glanced about, ‘I saw Princess Emilia back there, we should greet her highness some time tonight.’ A quick glance in the same direction, she sighed inwardly and nodded in agreement. Ismene wasn’t quite ready to share her newly returned friend with anyone else but if that was what he wanted of her… she’d play nicely. She liked the younger princess, although they had never run quite in the same circles. Her sister was much better at running in those circles than she was.
Flicking her glance back to Lord Adrestus, she tried not to snicker a little as she reached out and teasingly gave a little tug on the fabric covering his chest, “Look at you all cleaned up! You are positively adorable. I would never have guessed you be a co-conspirator to mischief all dressed up like that.” Without shifting a second glance at the musician, her teasing smile widened. Oh, she knew exactly why he was ready to go get something to eat. Now, the real question was… Is he going to let me have a glass of wine too?
The curvy little blonde pulled her eyes away from him as she slowly looked over the nearby vendors of the festival. As he spoke of his father, her teasing evaporated and became more serious. ‘Also, I would like to find some wine… My father was ridiculous yesterday.’ Ismene frowned and fixed her friend with a sympathetic look as she reached out and gave his forearm a squeeze.
“Let’s get you some wine and see if we can make today a better day,” She offered, and her hand slipped politely back to her side. He wasn’t even home for a month and his father was already badgering him again. “And after you are nice and intoxicated I will pull some of those sordid sailor stories that I am not supposed to hear about from you…”
Ismene threw him another faint smile, “You know I am here if you need to talk or you need an expert to help you plan your runaway. But drinks first, you should never runaway hungry or thirsty. So lead the way because yes. I am famished. Feed me. Give me wine.” She batted her lashes prettily at him with a practiced coyness that she’d learned since he’d been gone. The corner of her mouth lifted again, showing off a dimple as she added cheekily, “Please.” She teased and added blinking her devious grey eyes innocently at him, “See, I do have manners. Don’t listen to what my father tells you about me… It’s lies. All lies.”
The past few weeks had been difficult for Ariadne. She had always been emotional from a young girl, but had grown better at hiding her sad emotions as she grew older. Yet, since her return home, she had been prone to tears lurking at the edges of her eyes. She was anxious and tired from worrying for her friend. Persephone had been missing for some time now and Ari had no idea what had happened to her. Nobody had. Of course, many were saying that she was dead in an attempt to further shift the politics away from the Xanthos family. She had no doubt that Emilia would not be allowed to rule at all – she would be lucky if she was simply demoted to nobility. Ari feared for worse.
So, she had to hope that Persephone was alive and was coming back to Athenia. Ari knew that her friend would return if she could. She wondered what was keeping the queen away. When it was time for the annual harvest festival, Ari jumped at the chance to go along with her sister. Although she wasn’t excited for the actual activities of the day – they seemed unimportant – she was looking forward to the chance to see her friends and see how life in the capital was for them. She was worried sick for her friends and also wanted to check up on the princess if she could.
When they arrived, Ismene was quick to dart off, looking for Adre who had promised to meet her there. Ari too, went her separate way, looking for anyone she knew. It didn’t take her long before she saw Princess Emilia standing alone. Well, not completely alone, Ari noted the men standing casually near her, almost as if they were guarding her. Perhaps she was just being paranoid, but couldn’t be sure.
Nobody else had approached the princess yet and Ari wanted to take advantage of that in order to have a real conversation, perhaps. Although the two of them were not as close as she was with Persephone, they were of similar ages and had spent much of their lives near each other in the palace. She was concerned for the other girl, hoping that she was being treated all right.
Weaving her way through the crowd, Ari made her way to Emilia’s side. “Hello, Emilia,” she said, smiling warmly, reaching out to grip the girl’s arm in greeting and reassurance. “How are you doing?”
It seemed like such a trivial question – not enough to cover what felt like the direness of their situation. Yet, she knew no other way to ask it. What words could convey the deeper meaning of her question? “It’s lovely to see you,” she said, squeezing the princess’ arm gently, hoping her gentle touch could say more than her words. “I’ve been missing my life at the palace.” Of course she meant the old lives that they had all had, but didn’t dare say as much here. “It’s nice to be home, but easy to grow bored.”
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The past few weeks had been difficult for Ariadne. She had always been emotional from a young girl, but had grown better at hiding her sad emotions as she grew older. Yet, since her return home, she had been prone to tears lurking at the edges of her eyes. She was anxious and tired from worrying for her friend. Persephone had been missing for some time now and Ari had no idea what had happened to her. Nobody had. Of course, many were saying that she was dead in an attempt to further shift the politics away from the Xanthos family. She had no doubt that Emilia would not be allowed to rule at all – she would be lucky if she was simply demoted to nobility. Ari feared for worse.
So, she had to hope that Persephone was alive and was coming back to Athenia. Ari knew that her friend would return if she could. She wondered what was keeping the queen away. When it was time for the annual harvest festival, Ari jumped at the chance to go along with her sister. Although she wasn’t excited for the actual activities of the day – they seemed unimportant – she was looking forward to the chance to see her friends and see how life in the capital was for them. She was worried sick for her friends and also wanted to check up on the princess if she could.
When they arrived, Ismene was quick to dart off, looking for Adre who had promised to meet her there. Ari too, went her separate way, looking for anyone she knew. It didn’t take her long before she saw Princess Emilia standing alone. Well, not completely alone, Ari noted the men standing casually near her, almost as if they were guarding her. Perhaps she was just being paranoid, but couldn’t be sure.
Nobody else had approached the princess yet and Ari wanted to take advantage of that in order to have a real conversation, perhaps. Although the two of them were not as close as she was with Persephone, they were of similar ages and had spent much of their lives near each other in the palace. She was concerned for the other girl, hoping that she was being treated all right.
Weaving her way through the crowd, Ari made her way to Emilia’s side. “Hello, Emilia,” she said, smiling warmly, reaching out to grip the girl’s arm in greeting and reassurance. “How are you doing?”
It seemed like such a trivial question – not enough to cover what felt like the direness of their situation. Yet, she knew no other way to ask it. What words could convey the deeper meaning of her question? “It’s lovely to see you,” she said, squeezing the princess’ arm gently, hoping her gentle touch could say more than her words. “I’ve been missing my life at the palace.” Of course she meant the old lives that they had all had, but didn’t dare say as much here. “It’s nice to be home, but easy to grow bored.”
The past few weeks had been difficult for Ariadne. She had always been emotional from a young girl, but had grown better at hiding her sad emotions as she grew older. Yet, since her return home, she had been prone to tears lurking at the edges of her eyes. She was anxious and tired from worrying for her friend. Persephone had been missing for some time now and Ari had no idea what had happened to her. Nobody had. Of course, many were saying that she was dead in an attempt to further shift the politics away from the Xanthos family. She had no doubt that Emilia would not be allowed to rule at all – she would be lucky if she was simply demoted to nobility. Ari feared for worse.
So, she had to hope that Persephone was alive and was coming back to Athenia. Ari knew that her friend would return if she could. She wondered what was keeping the queen away. When it was time for the annual harvest festival, Ari jumped at the chance to go along with her sister. Although she wasn’t excited for the actual activities of the day – they seemed unimportant – she was looking forward to the chance to see her friends and see how life in the capital was for them. She was worried sick for her friends and also wanted to check up on the princess if she could.
When they arrived, Ismene was quick to dart off, looking for Adre who had promised to meet her there. Ari too, went her separate way, looking for anyone she knew. It didn’t take her long before she saw Princess Emilia standing alone. Well, not completely alone, Ari noted the men standing casually near her, almost as if they were guarding her. Perhaps she was just being paranoid, but couldn’t be sure.
Nobody else had approached the princess yet and Ari wanted to take advantage of that in order to have a real conversation, perhaps. Although the two of them were not as close as she was with Persephone, they were of similar ages and had spent much of their lives near each other in the palace. She was concerned for the other girl, hoping that she was being treated all right.
Weaving her way through the crowd, Ari made her way to Emilia’s side. “Hello, Emilia,” she said, smiling warmly, reaching out to grip the girl’s arm in greeting and reassurance. “How are you doing?”
It seemed like such a trivial question – not enough to cover what felt like the direness of their situation. Yet, she knew no other way to ask it. What words could convey the deeper meaning of her question? “It’s lovely to see you,” she said, squeezing the princess’ arm gently, hoping her gentle touch could say more than her words. “I’ve been missing my life at the palace.” Of course she meant the old lives that they had all had, but didn’t dare say as much here. “It’s nice to be home, but easy to grow bored.”
Much like every outing that tore the youngest Stravos away from her books and ledgers, Danae was not too entirely thrilled to be attending the harvest festival.
Which was, truthfully, a bit understandable. In addition to Danae just generally being at that age where girls like her could be grumpy over the smallest of slights; she was also the sort of person who just generally did not take much of an interest in the fruits, flowers, and honey that would be on display. It was just a mark of her luxurious upbringing. After all, from the moment she was born, these sorts of things just appeared in the Stravos household. Fetching the vegetables that would appear on the dinner table was one that regelated to servants and it was her personal opinion that the harvest festival -- despite all the fanfare and entertainment that came with it-- was just a glorified version of the shopping trip that Circenia would send a slave on. There was no point for an upper-class girl such as herself being all excited about a trip to the market.
However, that wasn’t considering that upper-class girls like Danae could have ulterior motives when attending events like this.
It was no secret that the populace of Athenia was struggling in the wake of the disappearance of Persephone and that her brother was attempting to fill the power vacuum that had been left in the girl’s wake. They blamed Elias for the struggles that the kingdom ad been facing, culminating in the attack on the Stravos manor. (Danae thanked her lucky stars that she had been with her cousin Daniil that evening and was safely away from the conflict.) However, that event had been a wake-up call for the Stravos family and reminded them of the need to have the people on their side. That was what made the Harvest festival crucial to the anchors. This was a celebration that brought food into the capital, a city that was starving only a few scant weeks ago. The Stravos family needed to do everything in their power to remind the people who had brought this produce into the city and ceased the ever insistent rumbling in their stomachs. That was why every Stravos would need to make an appearance today, even the daughters who thought that it would be better if they spent the day hunched over a ledger.
Danae knew full well that every member of the Stravos family had a part to play today and hers was simple enough. She needed to stay close to Emilia. It would be where Danae would be best served, after all. The princess was only a few months older than herself and the city was still reeling over the macabre discovery at the Loutra -- a discovery that Danae had made. She had been the one to find the body and had spent the whole morning in a mess of tears as a result. (Nevermind, the fact that barely any of her tears had been shed for Emilia, who Danae had initially believed was in the water.) However, given that Danae had not revealed this to anyone, it stood to reason that the weeping had been out of concern for the Princess. This, in turn, might suggest to anyone who didn’t know any better that the girls were close. It wasn’t true, but the mere appearance of this being so should be utilized by the Stravos family.
So, that’s why Danae arrived at the festival separately from the rest of her family. It was her task to find Emilia as soon as the palati’s carriage appeared and she should spend the day with her, ensuring that the girl would be shadowed … but of course, not in a way that would arouse any sort of suspicion. That had been the plan anyways until Danae stepped out of her transportation to discover that Emilia was already there.
The girl quietly pursed her lips in frustration as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her burgundy chiton. It took everything within her not to scowl, but instead hide the annoyance of learning that Emilia may already be wandering about on her own, behind a mask… and it was quite a pretty mask indeed as onlookers might notice as the youngest Stravos’s eyes scanned over the crowds, searching for her charge. In recent weeks, Danae had learned with her mother how to apply different forms of makeup. The results of this were on full display today. Danae’s cheeks had a light rosy hue to them that nicely compliment the slightest hint of lipstick. She had needed some help with her eyeshadow, colored perfectly to match her dress, but beyond that, it had all been done by Danae’s own hand… with Circenia’s supervision, of course.
In addition to the makeup that Danae normally did not wear, she also took another big leap from the standard that she normally set for her own personal appearance. This morning, Danae forwent the hairpieces that had been staples of her wardrobe the past few months. Instead, her hair was tied back in an elaborate design that had been pulled together with a golden laurel. This wasn’t done by Danae, of course -- she simply didn’t have the talent to accomplish this sort of thing. However, the fact that she allowed it at all (especially as the design could do only so much to conceal the fact that her hair was much shorter than it had been only a few months prior) was quite a change from the girl who used to fight vehemently against any sort of alterations to her appearance.
This was truly a different Danae.
The girl tried not to think of these changes as her eyes scanned about the market. After all, she was far too worried that if she focused on it, that worries and concerns about something not being right would creep in. Danae needed to distract herself. Luckily though, it did not take long for the Stravosi to catch a glimpse of the bright orange chiton that belonged to her cousin. Quickly the pout of disappointment faded into a light smile as Danae grabbed a hold of her skirt and crossed the distance between the girl she was to spend the day with.
Before Danae approached Emilia though, she was not pleased to see that the girl was already in the company of another… and it was someone that Emilia should not be conversing with at public events like this. From the moment that Danae laid eyes on the interloper, she recognized her to be Adriane of Arcana, Persephone’s former retainer.
This was not an ideal situation, to say the least.
The Stravos family had spent the last few weeks doing everything in their power to severe the connection between Emilia and her sister. They needed the princess to rely on the Stravos, after all, not the foolish whim that the cowardly Queen would return. That was the whole purpose of Danae needing to be with Emilia. She needed to get the princess away from this other girl. Quickly. Before Adriane put any silly ideas in Emilia’s head.
Picking up the pace slightly, Danae’s first move was to subtly severe the physical connection between Adri and the Princess. Danae accomplished this when she greeted Emilia, pulling the girl into an embrace, “ Cousin! It’s so lovely to see you!” The words were cheery and for once, held no thinly coated hint of malice. It truly appeared that Danae was nothing short of elated to run into Emilia at the market. This was further cemented by the next giddy statement to leave her lips, “ Elias said that you might be attending the festival today. I didn’t let myself get my hopes up, of course, given everything that has happened…” At this point, Danae stepped out of the hug that she had engulfed Emilia in as it had served its purpose and Adri no longer was touching the girl’s arm. It was unlikely thought that either girl would realize that this was what Danae was doing as the hug appeared to be little more than two cousins greeting each other.
Being this close to Emilia though allowed for Danae to see how worn down the girl was. That was due to Danae’s own family, of course, but she wasn’t going to allow the girl to focus on that. Not when she needed to get rid of Adri. In truth… Danae didn’t quite know how she was going to do that. Not when her usual method would have been to outright dismiss them. That wasn’t possible here with so many people watching. She would need a new strategy for handling the former lady-in-waiting.
That was when Danae recalled the words she had overheard as she approached Emilia. The girls were reminiscing about how life had been before the Senate meeting. That was a period that Danae and her family were hoping that Emilia would remember with the misery of knowing that Persephone would later abandon her to save her own skin.
Perhaps if Danae could drive that connection home, Emilia might turn against Adri on her own?
“ How are you faring after well… everything?” Danae asked in a somewhat gentler tone, her words clearly referencing that day at the Loutra. She was sure that the gentle Emilia had been a wreck afterward. After all, Danae doubted that even the strongest of men would be able to cope with seeing a corpse meant to look like themselves and as far as Danae was concerned, Emilia was quite the fragile flower. Her tone softened as she spoke her next words, “ You are so brave you know for coming out here after that...I didn’t think that I would be strong enough for such a thing myself, but my mother didn’t want me moping about the manor. Especially not today, not when we all should be focused on the future.”
The Stravos girl knew that she was pushing it. Emilia was not familiar with this bubbly, happy, Chara-esque version of Danae. Everything about the sixteen-year-old was a complete and total change from what Emilia knew. It was a good change, don’t get Danae wrong, but still a change. If the Stravos girl was in her cousin’s shoes, she would be suspicious of Danae’s intentions… as she rightfully should be. Beneath the makeup and the kind words, that hateful girl who had been endlessly jealous of Emilia remained, but it had to be hidden away in order to help her family. She had to play the part of a good noble girl and all the things that came with it, no matter how much she hated it.
However, she knew that Emilia would not be ready for such large changes in Danae’s appearance and demeanor. She would need to explain those away if she wanted to have Emilia eventually turn Adri away of her own volition. Danae needed to regain Emilia’s trust. So, after a moment, Danae allowed her smile to falter for a second as she reached for Emilia’s hands to gently squeeze them as Danae tried to manipulate the other girl’s kind-hearted nature and annoying tendency to see the good in people.
Taking a deep breath in, showing that the girl was going to be serious, Danae said in a hushed voice, “ Emilia, I know that this isn’t probably the best place for this, but I want you to know that I’m sorry for everything.” Danae started to say in a truly apologetic tone, “ I wasn’t the nicest cousin. I had a lot of anger that I wasn’t dealing with, but I am now… and if you’re willing… I want to start over and try again. Even if it’s just for today.” Did Danae truly mean any of this? Absolutely not. There was still a fire burning bright with the jealousy and hatred Danae had for her. However, she was hoping that Emilia would be naive enough to take her words at face value and not press her too deeply. That and trust that the mere fact that Danae was wearing makeup that she had applied herself would be enough of an indication that she was trying to turn over a new leaf.
“ Come, let us explore the market and find some flowers to liven up the palati. I’m sure between the three of us we can find something suitable.” She said turning to address Adri for the first time. Danae was sure that the girls would be suspicious, but given that Danae had shown no outward signs of her family’s intentions and had even invited Adriane to join them, (If only to keep an eye on the pair until Danae could gain Emilia’s trust enough to turn the Princess against her) she was positive that neither girl had the grounds to deny Danae without appearing to be rude. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it bought Danae time to think on her feet and discouraged any more chatter about life when Perse was around.
But would Danae’s idea to kill Emilia with kindness work?
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Much like every outing that tore the youngest Stravos away from her books and ledgers, Danae was not too entirely thrilled to be attending the harvest festival.
Which was, truthfully, a bit understandable. In addition to Danae just generally being at that age where girls like her could be grumpy over the smallest of slights; she was also the sort of person who just generally did not take much of an interest in the fruits, flowers, and honey that would be on display. It was just a mark of her luxurious upbringing. After all, from the moment she was born, these sorts of things just appeared in the Stravos household. Fetching the vegetables that would appear on the dinner table was one that regelated to servants and it was her personal opinion that the harvest festival -- despite all the fanfare and entertainment that came with it-- was just a glorified version of the shopping trip that Circenia would send a slave on. There was no point for an upper-class girl such as herself being all excited about a trip to the market.
However, that wasn’t considering that upper-class girls like Danae could have ulterior motives when attending events like this.
It was no secret that the populace of Athenia was struggling in the wake of the disappearance of Persephone and that her brother was attempting to fill the power vacuum that had been left in the girl’s wake. They blamed Elias for the struggles that the kingdom ad been facing, culminating in the attack on the Stravos manor. (Danae thanked her lucky stars that she had been with her cousin Daniil that evening and was safely away from the conflict.) However, that event had been a wake-up call for the Stravos family and reminded them of the need to have the people on their side. That was what made the Harvest festival crucial to the anchors. This was a celebration that brought food into the capital, a city that was starving only a few scant weeks ago. The Stravos family needed to do everything in their power to remind the people who had brought this produce into the city and ceased the ever insistent rumbling in their stomachs. That was why every Stravos would need to make an appearance today, even the daughters who thought that it would be better if they spent the day hunched over a ledger.
Danae knew full well that every member of the Stravos family had a part to play today and hers was simple enough. She needed to stay close to Emilia. It would be where Danae would be best served, after all. The princess was only a few months older than herself and the city was still reeling over the macabre discovery at the Loutra -- a discovery that Danae had made. She had been the one to find the body and had spent the whole morning in a mess of tears as a result. (Nevermind, the fact that barely any of her tears had been shed for Emilia, who Danae had initially believed was in the water.) However, given that Danae had not revealed this to anyone, it stood to reason that the weeping had been out of concern for the Princess. This, in turn, might suggest to anyone who didn’t know any better that the girls were close. It wasn’t true, but the mere appearance of this being so should be utilized by the Stravos family.
So, that’s why Danae arrived at the festival separately from the rest of her family. It was her task to find Emilia as soon as the palati’s carriage appeared and she should spend the day with her, ensuring that the girl would be shadowed … but of course, not in a way that would arouse any sort of suspicion. That had been the plan anyways until Danae stepped out of her transportation to discover that Emilia was already there.
The girl quietly pursed her lips in frustration as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her burgundy chiton. It took everything within her not to scowl, but instead hide the annoyance of learning that Emilia may already be wandering about on her own, behind a mask… and it was quite a pretty mask indeed as onlookers might notice as the youngest Stravos’s eyes scanned over the crowds, searching for her charge. In recent weeks, Danae had learned with her mother how to apply different forms of makeup. The results of this were on full display today. Danae’s cheeks had a light rosy hue to them that nicely compliment the slightest hint of lipstick. She had needed some help with her eyeshadow, colored perfectly to match her dress, but beyond that, it had all been done by Danae’s own hand… with Circenia’s supervision, of course.
In addition to the makeup that Danae normally did not wear, she also took another big leap from the standard that she normally set for her own personal appearance. This morning, Danae forwent the hairpieces that had been staples of her wardrobe the past few months. Instead, her hair was tied back in an elaborate design that had been pulled together with a golden laurel. This wasn’t done by Danae, of course -- she simply didn’t have the talent to accomplish this sort of thing. However, the fact that she allowed it at all (especially as the design could do only so much to conceal the fact that her hair was much shorter than it had been only a few months prior) was quite a change from the girl who used to fight vehemently against any sort of alterations to her appearance.
This was truly a different Danae.
The girl tried not to think of these changes as her eyes scanned about the market. After all, she was far too worried that if she focused on it, that worries and concerns about something not being right would creep in. Danae needed to distract herself. Luckily though, it did not take long for the Stravosi to catch a glimpse of the bright orange chiton that belonged to her cousin. Quickly the pout of disappointment faded into a light smile as Danae grabbed a hold of her skirt and crossed the distance between the girl she was to spend the day with.
Before Danae approached Emilia though, she was not pleased to see that the girl was already in the company of another… and it was someone that Emilia should not be conversing with at public events like this. From the moment that Danae laid eyes on the interloper, she recognized her to be Adriane of Arcana, Persephone’s former retainer.
This was not an ideal situation, to say the least.
The Stravos family had spent the last few weeks doing everything in their power to severe the connection between Emilia and her sister. They needed the princess to rely on the Stravos, after all, not the foolish whim that the cowardly Queen would return. That was the whole purpose of Danae needing to be with Emilia. She needed to get the princess away from this other girl. Quickly. Before Adriane put any silly ideas in Emilia’s head.
Picking up the pace slightly, Danae’s first move was to subtly severe the physical connection between Adri and the Princess. Danae accomplished this when she greeted Emilia, pulling the girl into an embrace, “ Cousin! It’s so lovely to see you!” The words were cheery and for once, held no thinly coated hint of malice. It truly appeared that Danae was nothing short of elated to run into Emilia at the market. This was further cemented by the next giddy statement to leave her lips, “ Elias said that you might be attending the festival today. I didn’t let myself get my hopes up, of course, given everything that has happened…” At this point, Danae stepped out of the hug that she had engulfed Emilia in as it had served its purpose and Adri no longer was touching the girl’s arm. It was unlikely thought that either girl would realize that this was what Danae was doing as the hug appeared to be little more than two cousins greeting each other.
Being this close to Emilia though allowed for Danae to see how worn down the girl was. That was due to Danae’s own family, of course, but she wasn’t going to allow the girl to focus on that. Not when she needed to get rid of Adri. In truth… Danae didn’t quite know how she was going to do that. Not when her usual method would have been to outright dismiss them. That wasn’t possible here with so many people watching. She would need a new strategy for handling the former lady-in-waiting.
That was when Danae recalled the words she had overheard as she approached Emilia. The girls were reminiscing about how life had been before the Senate meeting. That was a period that Danae and her family were hoping that Emilia would remember with the misery of knowing that Persephone would later abandon her to save her own skin.
Perhaps if Danae could drive that connection home, Emilia might turn against Adri on her own?
“ How are you faring after well… everything?” Danae asked in a somewhat gentler tone, her words clearly referencing that day at the Loutra. She was sure that the gentle Emilia had been a wreck afterward. After all, Danae doubted that even the strongest of men would be able to cope with seeing a corpse meant to look like themselves and as far as Danae was concerned, Emilia was quite the fragile flower. Her tone softened as she spoke her next words, “ You are so brave you know for coming out here after that...I didn’t think that I would be strong enough for such a thing myself, but my mother didn’t want me moping about the manor. Especially not today, not when we all should be focused on the future.”
The Stravos girl knew that she was pushing it. Emilia was not familiar with this bubbly, happy, Chara-esque version of Danae. Everything about the sixteen-year-old was a complete and total change from what Emilia knew. It was a good change, don’t get Danae wrong, but still a change. If the Stravos girl was in her cousin’s shoes, she would be suspicious of Danae’s intentions… as she rightfully should be. Beneath the makeup and the kind words, that hateful girl who had been endlessly jealous of Emilia remained, but it had to be hidden away in order to help her family. She had to play the part of a good noble girl and all the things that came with it, no matter how much she hated it.
However, she knew that Emilia would not be ready for such large changes in Danae’s appearance and demeanor. She would need to explain those away if she wanted to have Emilia eventually turn Adri away of her own volition. Danae needed to regain Emilia’s trust. So, after a moment, Danae allowed her smile to falter for a second as she reached for Emilia’s hands to gently squeeze them as Danae tried to manipulate the other girl’s kind-hearted nature and annoying tendency to see the good in people.
Taking a deep breath in, showing that the girl was going to be serious, Danae said in a hushed voice, “ Emilia, I know that this isn’t probably the best place for this, but I want you to know that I’m sorry for everything.” Danae started to say in a truly apologetic tone, “ I wasn’t the nicest cousin. I had a lot of anger that I wasn’t dealing with, but I am now… and if you’re willing… I want to start over and try again. Even if it’s just for today.” Did Danae truly mean any of this? Absolutely not. There was still a fire burning bright with the jealousy and hatred Danae had for her. However, she was hoping that Emilia would be naive enough to take her words at face value and not press her too deeply. That and trust that the mere fact that Danae was wearing makeup that she had applied herself would be enough of an indication that she was trying to turn over a new leaf.
“ Come, let us explore the market and find some flowers to liven up the palati. I’m sure between the three of us we can find something suitable.” She said turning to address Adri for the first time. Danae was sure that the girls would be suspicious, but given that Danae had shown no outward signs of her family’s intentions and had even invited Adriane to join them, (If only to keep an eye on the pair until Danae could gain Emilia’s trust enough to turn the Princess against her) she was positive that neither girl had the grounds to deny Danae without appearing to be rude. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it bought Danae time to think on her feet and discouraged any more chatter about life when Perse was around.
But would Danae’s idea to kill Emilia with kindness work?
Much like every outing that tore the youngest Stravos away from her books and ledgers, Danae was not too entirely thrilled to be attending the harvest festival.
Which was, truthfully, a bit understandable. In addition to Danae just generally being at that age where girls like her could be grumpy over the smallest of slights; she was also the sort of person who just generally did not take much of an interest in the fruits, flowers, and honey that would be on display. It was just a mark of her luxurious upbringing. After all, from the moment she was born, these sorts of things just appeared in the Stravos household. Fetching the vegetables that would appear on the dinner table was one that regelated to servants and it was her personal opinion that the harvest festival -- despite all the fanfare and entertainment that came with it-- was just a glorified version of the shopping trip that Circenia would send a slave on. There was no point for an upper-class girl such as herself being all excited about a trip to the market.
However, that wasn’t considering that upper-class girls like Danae could have ulterior motives when attending events like this.
It was no secret that the populace of Athenia was struggling in the wake of the disappearance of Persephone and that her brother was attempting to fill the power vacuum that had been left in the girl’s wake. They blamed Elias for the struggles that the kingdom ad been facing, culminating in the attack on the Stravos manor. (Danae thanked her lucky stars that she had been with her cousin Daniil that evening and was safely away from the conflict.) However, that event had been a wake-up call for the Stravos family and reminded them of the need to have the people on their side. That was what made the Harvest festival crucial to the anchors. This was a celebration that brought food into the capital, a city that was starving only a few scant weeks ago. The Stravos family needed to do everything in their power to remind the people who had brought this produce into the city and ceased the ever insistent rumbling in their stomachs. That was why every Stravos would need to make an appearance today, even the daughters who thought that it would be better if they spent the day hunched over a ledger.
Danae knew full well that every member of the Stravos family had a part to play today and hers was simple enough. She needed to stay close to Emilia. It would be where Danae would be best served, after all. The princess was only a few months older than herself and the city was still reeling over the macabre discovery at the Loutra -- a discovery that Danae had made. She had been the one to find the body and had spent the whole morning in a mess of tears as a result. (Nevermind, the fact that barely any of her tears had been shed for Emilia, who Danae had initially believed was in the water.) However, given that Danae had not revealed this to anyone, it stood to reason that the weeping had been out of concern for the Princess. This, in turn, might suggest to anyone who didn’t know any better that the girls were close. It wasn’t true, but the mere appearance of this being so should be utilized by the Stravos family.
So, that’s why Danae arrived at the festival separately from the rest of her family. It was her task to find Emilia as soon as the palati’s carriage appeared and she should spend the day with her, ensuring that the girl would be shadowed … but of course, not in a way that would arouse any sort of suspicion. That had been the plan anyways until Danae stepped out of her transportation to discover that Emilia was already there.
The girl quietly pursed her lips in frustration as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her burgundy chiton. It took everything within her not to scowl, but instead hide the annoyance of learning that Emilia may already be wandering about on her own, behind a mask… and it was quite a pretty mask indeed as onlookers might notice as the youngest Stravos’s eyes scanned over the crowds, searching for her charge. In recent weeks, Danae had learned with her mother how to apply different forms of makeup. The results of this were on full display today. Danae’s cheeks had a light rosy hue to them that nicely compliment the slightest hint of lipstick. She had needed some help with her eyeshadow, colored perfectly to match her dress, but beyond that, it had all been done by Danae’s own hand… with Circenia’s supervision, of course.
In addition to the makeup that Danae normally did not wear, she also took another big leap from the standard that she normally set for her own personal appearance. This morning, Danae forwent the hairpieces that had been staples of her wardrobe the past few months. Instead, her hair was tied back in an elaborate design that had been pulled together with a golden laurel. This wasn’t done by Danae, of course -- she simply didn’t have the talent to accomplish this sort of thing. However, the fact that she allowed it at all (especially as the design could do only so much to conceal the fact that her hair was much shorter than it had been only a few months prior) was quite a change from the girl who used to fight vehemently against any sort of alterations to her appearance.
This was truly a different Danae.
The girl tried not to think of these changes as her eyes scanned about the market. After all, she was far too worried that if she focused on it, that worries and concerns about something not being right would creep in. Danae needed to distract herself. Luckily though, it did not take long for the Stravosi to catch a glimpse of the bright orange chiton that belonged to her cousin. Quickly the pout of disappointment faded into a light smile as Danae grabbed a hold of her skirt and crossed the distance between the girl she was to spend the day with.
Before Danae approached Emilia though, she was not pleased to see that the girl was already in the company of another… and it was someone that Emilia should not be conversing with at public events like this. From the moment that Danae laid eyes on the interloper, she recognized her to be Adriane of Arcana, Persephone’s former retainer.
This was not an ideal situation, to say the least.
The Stravos family had spent the last few weeks doing everything in their power to severe the connection between Emilia and her sister. They needed the princess to rely on the Stravos, after all, not the foolish whim that the cowardly Queen would return. That was the whole purpose of Danae needing to be with Emilia. She needed to get the princess away from this other girl. Quickly. Before Adriane put any silly ideas in Emilia’s head.
Picking up the pace slightly, Danae’s first move was to subtly severe the physical connection between Adri and the Princess. Danae accomplished this when she greeted Emilia, pulling the girl into an embrace, “ Cousin! It’s so lovely to see you!” The words were cheery and for once, held no thinly coated hint of malice. It truly appeared that Danae was nothing short of elated to run into Emilia at the market. This was further cemented by the next giddy statement to leave her lips, “ Elias said that you might be attending the festival today. I didn’t let myself get my hopes up, of course, given everything that has happened…” At this point, Danae stepped out of the hug that she had engulfed Emilia in as it had served its purpose and Adri no longer was touching the girl’s arm. It was unlikely thought that either girl would realize that this was what Danae was doing as the hug appeared to be little more than two cousins greeting each other.
Being this close to Emilia though allowed for Danae to see how worn down the girl was. That was due to Danae’s own family, of course, but she wasn’t going to allow the girl to focus on that. Not when she needed to get rid of Adri. In truth… Danae didn’t quite know how she was going to do that. Not when her usual method would have been to outright dismiss them. That wasn’t possible here with so many people watching. She would need a new strategy for handling the former lady-in-waiting.
That was when Danae recalled the words she had overheard as she approached Emilia. The girls were reminiscing about how life had been before the Senate meeting. That was a period that Danae and her family were hoping that Emilia would remember with the misery of knowing that Persephone would later abandon her to save her own skin.
Perhaps if Danae could drive that connection home, Emilia might turn against Adri on her own?
“ How are you faring after well… everything?” Danae asked in a somewhat gentler tone, her words clearly referencing that day at the Loutra. She was sure that the gentle Emilia had been a wreck afterward. After all, Danae doubted that even the strongest of men would be able to cope with seeing a corpse meant to look like themselves and as far as Danae was concerned, Emilia was quite the fragile flower. Her tone softened as she spoke her next words, “ You are so brave you know for coming out here after that...I didn’t think that I would be strong enough for such a thing myself, but my mother didn’t want me moping about the manor. Especially not today, not when we all should be focused on the future.”
The Stravos girl knew that she was pushing it. Emilia was not familiar with this bubbly, happy, Chara-esque version of Danae. Everything about the sixteen-year-old was a complete and total change from what Emilia knew. It was a good change, don’t get Danae wrong, but still a change. If the Stravos girl was in her cousin’s shoes, she would be suspicious of Danae’s intentions… as she rightfully should be. Beneath the makeup and the kind words, that hateful girl who had been endlessly jealous of Emilia remained, but it had to be hidden away in order to help her family. She had to play the part of a good noble girl and all the things that came with it, no matter how much she hated it.
However, she knew that Emilia would not be ready for such large changes in Danae’s appearance and demeanor. She would need to explain those away if she wanted to have Emilia eventually turn Adri away of her own volition. Danae needed to regain Emilia’s trust. So, after a moment, Danae allowed her smile to falter for a second as she reached for Emilia’s hands to gently squeeze them as Danae tried to manipulate the other girl’s kind-hearted nature and annoying tendency to see the good in people.
Taking a deep breath in, showing that the girl was going to be serious, Danae said in a hushed voice, “ Emilia, I know that this isn’t probably the best place for this, but I want you to know that I’m sorry for everything.” Danae started to say in a truly apologetic tone, “ I wasn’t the nicest cousin. I had a lot of anger that I wasn’t dealing with, but I am now… and if you’re willing… I want to start over and try again. Even if it’s just for today.” Did Danae truly mean any of this? Absolutely not. There was still a fire burning bright with the jealousy and hatred Danae had for her. However, she was hoping that Emilia would be naive enough to take her words at face value and not press her too deeply. That and trust that the mere fact that Danae was wearing makeup that she had applied herself would be enough of an indication that she was trying to turn over a new leaf.
“ Come, let us explore the market and find some flowers to liven up the palati. I’m sure between the three of us we can find something suitable.” She said turning to address Adri for the first time. Danae was sure that the girls would be suspicious, but given that Danae had shown no outward signs of her family’s intentions and had even invited Adriane to join them, (If only to keep an eye on the pair until Danae could gain Emilia’s trust enough to turn the Princess against her) she was positive that neither girl had the grounds to deny Danae without appearing to be rude. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it bought Danae time to think on her feet and discouraged any more chatter about life when Perse was around.
But would Danae’s idea to kill Emilia with kindness work?
After everything, it was such a breath of fresh air to see at least some happiness and joy to come from a festival. After weaks of starvation, of hungry mouths and angry people, an event such as this could be a balm to wounded hearts and minds. Greeks were social creatures. Even Keikelius himself enjoyed some modicum of social interaction with the people of Athenia. Most people were dirt under foot, but the Stravos would not win the throne by being cruel to the people. Ignoring their needs and desires was a one way ticket to another riot, and Keikelius was absolutely positive that they could not risk another.
Eyes would quickly start to look from Emilia to whoever stood at Emilia's shoulder. Elias. And they could not have that. This festival needed to go off without any anger or frustration and the tensions that still seemed taunt and ready to snap needed to to be quelled before they could get out of hand.
Keikelius was playing his part well. Keeping himself distanced from the part of his family that supported Elias so publically, the man easily schooled his features to remain impassive, or at the very least displeasured at having to be here. He was still the Lord of the Stravos family, but no one would believe his pseudo-betrayal of his own family if he was shown to be in cahoots with the other side. Keikelius already had one thing going for him. His very blatant and very pointed support of Persephone's claim to the throne at the Senate vote would work in his favor.
And he could use that favor to curry more with the young princess. Princess Emilia was the only person he was keeping an eye out for at today's festivities. As a senator, it would not be out of the realm of propriety to approach the young woman who was supposedly the current head of Athenia. As Keikelius trailed through the market, pointedly not wearing clothing of Stravos color as a silent mark against his own name and his own family, the lord weaved in and out of the market stalls. Pretending to be interested in whatever goods were being presented to him, the lord kept his gaze cast about here and there before focusing on the items in front of him. Many of these things he would be interested in for his wife of Chara.
But only when Elias had successfully taken the throne and peace had been restored to the Kingdom.
It just so happened that Keikelius was in luck, catching sight of both his daughter, a servant, and the young princess herself. Together. It couldn't have worked out more perfectly even if Keikelius had planned it himself. Releasing his attention from the salesman at the current market stall, the lord stepped away and slowly toward the small group of three ladies. He stopped in front of them, giving a very low bow to Princess Emilia. His gaze took on an almost kind, sympathetic glint, or as close to one as Keikelius could manage. "My dear princess Emilia," the man hummed low and reverent, "I am so pleased to see you in public. How are you feeling?" he asked slowly, giving an almost shriveling look toward his own daughter.
It was all a game. A game she would be more than aware of by now. To feign betrayal was his game, and he would win at it, especially if it brought their enemies closer. Starting with Emilia.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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After everything, it was such a breath of fresh air to see at least some happiness and joy to come from a festival. After weaks of starvation, of hungry mouths and angry people, an event such as this could be a balm to wounded hearts and minds. Greeks were social creatures. Even Keikelius himself enjoyed some modicum of social interaction with the people of Athenia. Most people were dirt under foot, but the Stravos would not win the throne by being cruel to the people. Ignoring their needs and desires was a one way ticket to another riot, and Keikelius was absolutely positive that they could not risk another.
Eyes would quickly start to look from Emilia to whoever stood at Emilia's shoulder. Elias. And they could not have that. This festival needed to go off without any anger or frustration and the tensions that still seemed taunt and ready to snap needed to to be quelled before they could get out of hand.
Keikelius was playing his part well. Keeping himself distanced from the part of his family that supported Elias so publically, the man easily schooled his features to remain impassive, or at the very least displeasured at having to be here. He was still the Lord of the Stravos family, but no one would believe his pseudo-betrayal of his own family if he was shown to be in cahoots with the other side. Keikelius already had one thing going for him. His very blatant and very pointed support of Persephone's claim to the throne at the Senate vote would work in his favor.
And he could use that favor to curry more with the young princess. Princess Emilia was the only person he was keeping an eye out for at today's festivities. As a senator, it would not be out of the realm of propriety to approach the young woman who was supposedly the current head of Athenia. As Keikelius trailed through the market, pointedly not wearing clothing of Stravos color as a silent mark against his own name and his own family, the lord weaved in and out of the market stalls. Pretending to be interested in whatever goods were being presented to him, the lord kept his gaze cast about here and there before focusing on the items in front of him. Many of these things he would be interested in for his wife of Chara.
But only when Elias had successfully taken the throne and peace had been restored to the Kingdom.
It just so happened that Keikelius was in luck, catching sight of both his daughter, a servant, and the young princess herself. Together. It couldn't have worked out more perfectly even if Keikelius had planned it himself. Releasing his attention from the salesman at the current market stall, the lord stepped away and slowly toward the small group of three ladies. He stopped in front of them, giving a very low bow to Princess Emilia. His gaze took on an almost kind, sympathetic glint, or as close to one as Keikelius could manage. "My dear princess Emilia," the man hummed low and reverent, "I am so pleased to see you in public. How are you feeling?" he asked slowly, giving an almost shriveling look toward his own daughter.
It was all a game. A game she would be more than aware of by now. To feign betrayal was his game, and he would win at it, especially if it brought their enemies closer. Starting with Emilia.
After everything, it was such a breath of fresh air to see at least some happiness and joy to come from a festival. After weaks of starvation, of hungry mouths and angry people, an event such as this could be a balm to wounded hearts and minds. Greeks were social creatures. Even Keikelius himself enjoyed some modicum of social interaction with the people of Athenia. Most people were dirt under foot, but the Stravos would not win the throne by being cruel to the people. Ignoring their needs and desires was a one way ticket to another riot, and Keikelius was absolutely positive that they could not risk another.
Eyes would quickly start to look from Emilia to whoever stood at Emilia's shoulder. Elias. And they could not have that. This festival needed to go off without any anger or frustration and the tensions that still seemed taunt and ready to snap needed to to be quelled before they could get out of hand.
Keikelius was playing his part well. Keeping himself distanced from the part of his family that supported Elias so publically, the man easily schooled his features to remain impassive, or at the very least displeasured at having to be here. He was still the Lord of the Stravos family, but no one would believe his pseudo-betrayal of his own family if he was shown to be in cahoots with the other side. Keikelius already had one thing going for him. His very blatant and very pointed support of Persephone's claim to the throne at the Senate vote would work in his favor.
And he could use that favor to curry more with the young princess. Princess Emilia was the only person he was keeping an eye out for at today's festivities. As a senator, it would not be out of the realm of propriety to approach the young woman who was supposedly the current head of Athenia. As Keikelius trailed through the market, pointedly not wearing clothing of Stravos color as a silent mark against his own name and his own family, the lord weaved in and out of the market stalls. Pretending to be interested in whatever goods were being presented to him, the lord kept his gaze cast about here and there before focusing on the items in front of him. Many of these things he would be interested in for his wife of Chara.
But only when Elias had successfully taken the throne and peace had been restored to the Kingdom.
It just so happened that Keikelius was in luck, catching sight of both his daughter, a servant, and the young princess herself. Together. It couldn't have worked out more perfectly even if Keikelius had planned it himself. Releasing his attention from the salesman at the current market stall, the lord stepped away and slowly toward the small group of three ladies. He stopped in front of them, giving a very low bow to Princess Emilia. His gaze took on an almost kind, sympathetic glint, or as close to one as Keikelius could manage. "My dear princess Emilia," the man hummed low and reverent, "I am so pleased to see you in public. How are you feeling?" he asked slowly, giving an almost shriveling look toward his own daughter.
It was all a game. A game she would be more than aware of by now. To feign betrayal was his game, and he would win at it, especially if it brought their enemies closer. Starting with Emilia.
There came a point where second-hand gossip and rumours became obsolete, and Cicero had to set his general distaste for people aside and be around them. The Harvest Festival seemed an obvious event for the Master of Secrets to show his face and make nice with those whose lives were part of the tangled web of Athenian politics that Cicero himself had a hand in weaving. Most of the nobility would be in attendance, and the man found a need to take a wider view of everything. It was surprising how much could be learnt from a couple of hours spent pretending to pay attention to whomever Elysia was chatting too, whilst surreptitiously listening to everything else going around them.
This was why the man was pacing irritably in the entryway to their home, unable to fathom what his dear wife could still be doing in the process of readying herself for the event. She could not append the delay to being mithered by the children for they had been spirited away by the nanny over an hour ago, and he had been growing more fractious ever since. His time was a commodity, and one not best spent waiting for Elysia to decree herself ready.
Turning his face so it was directed up the marble stairway to the second floor of their home, his words left little to the imagination when it came to his dwindling patience.
“I am LEAVING in the time it takes Thassos to bring the carriage around, Elysia. If you’re not down here by then you can make your own way.”
It would not be the first time it had happened, nor certainly not the last. Cicero was a man who kept very much to his own schedule, and if those around him did not...well then that was their issue not his own.
Thankfully - because his wife was truly a treasure at smoothing the man’s rough edges and calming those that he managed to ruffle- Elysia did put in an appearance before he had stepped out of the front door, and Cicero shot her a pointed look as he let her go before him to climb into the waiting carriage.His posture was rigid though, and his irritation at the delay easy enough for the woman to read as they settled opposite one another in the carriage that would transport them to the central plateia. He remained press-lipped and silent until they were underway, at which point his focus snapped to their destination.
“Let us hope there are no further riots today. Should things turn awry though, head for this address.” And he pressed a piece of parchment into his wife’s hand. Not nobility, they were hardly likely to be the target of further insurgency, but still, Cicero was a man who planned. There was too much unrest in the city for them to be complacent.
He didn’t say anything further on the matter, trusted his wife well enough not to ask questions she didn’t need to and went on without a pause. “We will see the Princess today, which will be interesting.”
And no doubt, there would be a trail of Stravos guard dogs trailing her wake lest the girl dare step a foot out of line. “She likes you doesn’t she? It’d be novel to know what tales she has been fed. We should speak with her”
He said we because Cicero’s forte was not communicating with teenage girls in all their silliness, and he had no qualms about admitting it. But that was why he was so lucky in having the wife that he did.
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There came a point where second-hand gossip and rumours became obsolete, and Cicero had to set his general distaste for people aside and be around them. The Harvest Festival seemed an obvious event for the Master of Secrets to show his face and make nice with those whose lives were part of the tangled web of Athenian politics that Cicero himself had a hand in weaving. Most of the nobility would be in attendance, and the man found a need to take a wider view of everything. It was surprising how much could be learnt from a couple of hours spent pretending to pay attention to whomever Elysia was chatting too, whilst surreptitiously listening to everything else going around them.
This was why the man was pacing irritably in the entryway to their home, unable to fathom what his dear wife could still be doing in the process of readying herself for the event. She could not append the delay to being mithered by the children for they had been spirited away by the nanny over an hour ago, and he had been growing more fractious ever since. His time was a commodity, and one not best spent waiting for Elysia to decree herself ready.
Turning his face so it was directed up the marble stairway to the second floor of their home, his words left little to the imagination when it came to his dwindling patience.
“I am LEAVING in the time it takes Thassos to bring the carriage around, Elysia. If you’re not down here by then you can make your own way.”
It would not be the first time it had happened, nor certainly not the last. Cicero was a man who kept very much to his own schedule, and if those around him did not...well then that was their issue not his own.
Thankfully - because his wife was truly a treasure at smoothing the man’s rough edges and calming those that he managed to ruffle- Elysia did put in an appearance before he had stepped out of the front door, and Cicero shot her a pointed look as he let her go before him to climb into the waiting carriage.His posture was rigid though, and his irritation at the delay easy enough for the woman to read as they settled opposite one another in the carriage that would transport them to the central plateia. He remained press-lipped and silent until they were underway, at which point his focus snapped to their destination.
“Let us hope there are no further riots today. Should things turn awry though, head for this address.” And he pressed a piece of parchment into his wife’s hand. Not nobility, they were hardly likely to be the target of further insurgency, but still, Cicero was a man who planned. There was too much unrest in the city for them to be complacent.
He didn’t say anything further on the matter, trusted his wife well enough not to ask questions she didn’t need to and went on without a pause. “We will see the Princess today, which will be interesting.”
And no doubt, there would be a trail of Stravos guard dogs trailing her wake lest the girl dare step a foot out of line. “She likes you doesn’t she? It’d be novel to know what tales she has been fed. We should speak with her”
He said we because Cicero’s forte was not communicating with teenage girls in all their silliness, and he had no qualms about admitting it. But that was why he was so lucky in having the wife that he did.
There came a point where second-hand gossip and rumours became obsolete, and Cicero had to set his general distaste for people aside and be around them. The Harvest Festival seemed an obvious event for the Master of Secrets to show his face and make nice with those whose lives were part of the tangled web of Athenian politics that Cicero himself had a hand in weaving. Most of the nobility would be in attendance, and the man found a need to take a wider view of everything. It was surprising how much could be learnt from a couple of hours spent pretending to pay attention to whomever Elysia was chatting too, whilst surreptitiously listening to everything else going around them.
This was why the man was pacing irritably in the entryway to their home, unable to fathom what his dear wife could still be doing in the process of readying herself for the event. She could not append the delay to being mithered by the children for they had been spirited away by the nanny over an hour ago, and he had been growing more fractious ever since. His time was a commodity, and one not best spent waiting for Elysia to decree herself ready.
Turning his face so it was directed up the marble stairway to the second floor of their home, his words left little to the imagination when it came to his dwindling patience.
“I am LEAVING in the time it takes Thassos to bring the carriage around, Elysia. If you’re not down here by then you can make your own way.”
It would not be the first time it had happened, nor certainly not the last. Cicero was a man who kept very much to his own schedule, and if those around him did not...well then that was their issue not his own.
Thankfully - because his wife was truly a treasure at smoothing the man’s rough edges and calming those that he managed to ruffle- Elysia did put in an appearance before he had stepped out of the front door, and Cicero shot her a pointed look as he let her go before him to climb into the waiting carriage.His posture was rigid though, and his irritation at the delay easy enough for the woman to read as they settled opposite one another in the carriage that would transport them to the central plateia. He remained press-lipped and silent until they were underway, at which point his focus snapped to their destination.
“Let us hope there are no further riots today. Should things turn awry though, head for this address.” And he pressed a piece of parchment into his wife’s hand. Not nobility, they were hardly likely to be the target of further insurgency, but still, Cicero was a man who planned. There was too much unrest in the city for them to be complacent.
He didn’t say anything further on the matter, trusted his wife well enough not to ask questions she didn’t need to and went on without a pause. “We will see the Princess today, which will be interesting.”
And no doubt, there would be a trail of Stravos guard dogs trailing her wake lest the girl dare step a foot out of line. “She likes you doesn’t she? It’d be novel to know what tales she has been fed. We should speak with her”
He said we because Cicero’s forte was not communicating with teenage girls in all their silliness, and he had no qualms about admitting it. But that was why he was so lucky in having the wife that he did.
People were already milling about by the time Emilia made her exit from the carriage, but the eyes immediately tossed in her direction made the brunette suddenly feel very self conscious, the kind she had almost never felt before. Emilia had always been very much beloved by the people of Athenia. Something about her smile was at the same time beguiling and charming, that there was few who did not fall victim to her easy laughter and smile. In part due to her young age, somehow Emilia had become easily the most well protected of ladies in Athenia, but it had also made her the most gulliblle and innocent, believing life to hold no hardships - until today.
Not at all prepared for how to deal with the occasionally animosity filled gazes from those who believe her irresponsible after Persephone's dissapearance, Emilia's hands suddenly turned clammy, even as her lady's maid came to stand by her. Not that the young woman's assistance would be helpful, for Demetra was simply a young commoner hired by Elias to accompany her, all her old entourage had either been killed in the insurgent attempt, or had been fired.
Biting her bottom lip as the people only made surreptious, suspicious nods instead of previously where they would greet her with happy nods and cheerful greetings, Emilia's face brightened when a warm hello made her turn, and teh familiar face of Ariadne made itself seen to her irises. One of her sister's former ladies in waiting, Ariadne had been similiarly dismissed by Elias after the whole insurgent attack, and to see the familiar face gave some sense of comfort to Emilia.
The princess returned the greeting with a brush of her hand to Ariadne's, as she replied. "We've missed all of you too," she murmured, refering to her sister's entourage. That her sister was gone was already a loss deeply felt, only magnified when the whole half a dozen was gone along with her. "Perhaps you could come visit?" Ariadne had only been a few years her elder, that Emilia often found herself enjoying conversation with the blonde.
Yet before a reply could be given, the form of Danae came barelling in between herself and the one she called a friend, catching Emilia quite by surprise when her cousin gave her a warm embrace, cheery with none of the malice Emilia had begun detecting in her cousin ever since that fateful day. It wasn't as if Danae had ever been extremely close to her, for her cousin did not visit often, but Emilia had always welcomed Danae whenever she came. They were family afterall, and her father doted on her aunt. Still, warmth from the usually stoic Danae was uncharacteristic, and had Emilia furrowing her brow in question as she spoke.
Reminded of what had happened at the Loutra only made Emilia blanch, but she tried to compose herself by quickly nodding, as she casted a glance over at Ariadne, wondering if the girl knew what had happened. Afterall, it was her father who had been part of handling the body, and Emilia couldn't help but wonder if Hector had told his daughters what had occured.
It would appear however, that Danae had found a spurt of either adrenaline or compassion, Emilia wasn't sure which, as the words of apology came tumbling out quicker then Emilia could respond to, up till her invitation to find flowers. Left with little else to do but nod, the princess simply nodded and motioned at Ariadne to come along (for she sorely needed a friendly face), before falling in step next to Danae. "Have you met, Danae? This is Ariadne, one of my sister's lady's maids before...." she trailed off, and failing to find the proper words,merely backtracked and wore a watery smile. "Anyway, its been a while since I last met her. Would you like to bring some flowers back to Hector, Ariadne? I haven't seen him since, either." she murmured, a friendly grin to Ariadne with the last question.
Drawing to a halt in front of a stall which had particularly vibrant blooms of hyacinth's and lilies, as well as bright red carnations which drew attention everywhere, Emilia was just about to reach for it when yet another voice made her turn, and a wary smile reached her lips when she recognized its owner. "Uncle Keikelius," she murmured, just as cautious of him as she was of Elias up till lately. Her uncle had never been the closest to her, and neither did he own the warm, comforting aura her father had, so Emilia had always felt the need to be on her best behaviour in regards to Keikelius. And old habits die hard. Emilia quickly disentangled her arms from Danae and Ariadne to do a respectful curtsy, before responding. "Things are alright." As they can be, she supposed, even though they have yet to move forward with hosting a Senate. "But perhaps some assistance would be useful from you, uncle?" she asked, for the first time voicing out, even if it was done in a very hesitant, uncertain tone.
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People were already milling about by the time Emilia made her exit from the carriage, but the eyes immediately tossed in her direction made the brunette suddenly feel very self conscious, the kind she had almost never felt before. Emilia had always been very much beloved by the people of Athenia. Something about her smile was at the same time beguiling and charming, that there was few who did not fall victim to her easy laughter and smile. In part due to her young age, somehow Emilia had become easily the most well protected of ladies in Athenia, but it had also made her the most gulliblle and innocent, believing life to hold no hardships - until today.
Not at all prepared for how to deal with the occasionally animosity filled gazes from those who believe her irresponsible after Persephone's dissapearance, Emilia's hands suddenly turned clammy, even as her lady's maid came to stand by her. Not that the young woman's assistance would be helpful, for Demetra was simply a young commoner hired by Elias to accompany her, all her old entourage had either been killed in the insurgent attempt, or had been fired.
Biting her bottom lip as the people only made surreptious, suspicious nods instead of previously where they would greet her with happy nods and cheerful greetings, Emilia's face brightened when a warm hello made her turn, and teh familiar face of Ariadne made itself seen to her irises. One of her sister's former ladies in waiting, Ariadne had been similiarly dismissed by Elias after the whole insurgent attack, and to see the familiar face gave some sense of comfort to Emilia.
The princess returned the greeting with a brush of her hand to Ariadne's, as she replied. "We've missed all of you too," she murmured, refering to her sister's entourage. That her sister was gone was already a loss deeply felt, only magnified when the whole half a dozen was gone along with her. "Perhaps you could come visit?" Ariadne had only been a few years her elder, that Emilia often found herself enjoying conversation with the blonde.
Yet before a reply could be given, the form of Danae came barelling in between herself and the one she called a friend, catching Emilia quite by surprise when her cousin gave her a warm embrace, cheery with none of the malice Emilia had begun detecting in her cousin ever since that fateful day. It wasn't as if Danae had ever been extremely close to her, for her cousin did not visit often, but Emilia had always welcomed Danae whenever she came. They were family afterall, and her father doted on her aunt. Still, warmth from the usually stoic Danae was uncharacteristic, and had Emilia furrowing her brow in question as she spoke.
Reminded of what had happened at the Loutra only made Emilia blanch, but she tried to compose herself by quickly nodding, as she casted a glance over at Ariadne, wondering if the girl knew what had happened. Afterall, it was her father who had been part of handling the body, and Emilia couldn't help but wonder if Hector had told his daughters what had occured.
It would appear however, that Danae had found a spurt of either adrenaline or compassion, Emilia wasn't sure which, as the words of apology came tumbling out quicker then Emilia could respond to, up till her invitation to find flowers. Left with little else to do but nod, the princess simply nodded and motioned at Ariadne to come along (for she sorely needed a friendly face), before falling in step next to Danae. "Have you met, Danae? This is Ariadne, one of my sister's lady's maids before...." she trailed off, and failing to find the proper words,merely backtracked and wore a watery smile. "Anyway, its been a while since I last met her. Would you like to bring some flowers back to Hector, Ariadne? I haven't seen him since, either." she murmured, a friendly grin to Ariadne with the last question.
Drawing to a halt in front of a stall which had particularly vibrant blooms of hyacinth's and lilies, as well as bright red carnations which drew attention everywhere, Emilia was just about to reach for it when yet another voice made her turn, and a wary smile reached her lips when she recognized its owner. "Uncle Keikelius," she murmured, just as cautious of him as she was of Elias up till lately. Her uncle had never been the closest to her, and neither did he own the warm, comforting aura her father had, so Emilia had always felt the need to be on her best behaviour in regards to Keikelius. And old habits die hard. Emilia quickly disentangled her arms from Danae and Ariadne to do a respectful curtsy, before responding. "Things are alright." As they can be, she supposed, even though they have yet to move forward with hosting a Senate. "But perhaps some assistance would be useful from you, uncle?" she asked, for the first time voicing out, even if it was done in a very hesitant, uncertain tone.
People were already milling about by the time Emilia made her exit from the carriage, but the eyes immediately tossed in her direction made the brunette suddenly feel very self conscious, the kind she had almost never felt before. Emilia had always been very much beloved by the people of Athenia. Something about her smile was at the same time beguiling and charming, that there was few who did not fall victim to her easy laughter and smile. In part due to her young age, somehow Emilia had become easily the most well protected of ladies in Athenia, but it had also made her the most gulliblle and innocent, believing life to hold no hardships - until today.
Not at all prepared for how to deal with the occasionally animosity filled gazes from those who believe her irresponsible after Persephone's dissapearance, Emilia's hands suddenly turned clammy, even as her lady's maid came to stand by her. Not that the young woman's assistance would be helpful, for Demetra was simply a young commoner hired by Elias to accompany her, all her old entourage had either been killed in the insurgent attempt, or had been fired.
Biting her bottom lip as the people only made surreptious, suspicious nods instead of previously where they would greet her with happy nods and cheerful greetings, Emilia's face brightened when a warm hello made her turn, and teh familiar face of Ariadne made itself seen to her irises. One of her sister's former ladies in waiting, Ariadne had been similiarly dismissed by Elias after the whole insurgent attack, and to see the familiar face gave some sense of comfort to Emilia.
The princess returned the greeting with a brush of her hand to Ariadne's, as she replied. "We've missed all of you too," she murmured, refering to her sister's entourage. That her sister was gone was already a loss deeply felt, only magnified when the whole half a dozen was gone along with her. "Perhaps you could come visit?" Ariadne had only been a few years her elder, that Emilia often found herself enjoying conversation with the blonde.
Yet before a reply could be given, the form of Danae came barelling in between herself and the one she called a friend, catching Emilia quite by surprise when her cousin gave her a warm embrace, cheery with none of the malice Emilia had begun detecting in her cousin ever since that fateful day. It wasn't as if Danae had ever been extremely close to her, for her cousin did not visit often, but Emilia had always welcomed Danae whenever she came. They were family afterall, and her father doted on her aunt. Still, warmth from the usually stoic Danae was uncharacteristic, and had Emilia furrowing her brow in question as she spoke.
Reminded of what had happened at the Loutra only made Emilia blanch, but she tried to compose herself by quickly nodding, as she casted a glance over at Ariadne, wondering if the girl knew what had happened. Afterall, it was her father who had been part of handling the body, and Emilia couldn't help but wonder if Hector had told his daughters what had occured.
It would appear however, that Danae had found a spurt of either adrenaline or compassion, Emilia wasn't sure which, as the words of apology came tumbling out quicker then Emilia could respond to, up till her invitation to find flowers. Left with little else to do but nod, the princess simply nodded and motioned at Ariadne to come along (for she sorely needed a friendly face), before falling in step next to Danae. "Have you met, Danae? This is Ariadne, one of my sister's lady's maids before...." she trailed off, and failing to find the proper words,merely backtracked and wore a watery smile. "Anyway, its been a while since I last met her. Would you like to bring some flowers back to Hector, Ariadne? I haven't seen him since, either." she murmured, a friendly grin to Ariadne with the last question.
Drawing to a halt in front of a stall which had particularly vibrant blooms of hyacinth's and lilies, as well as bright red carnations which drew attention everywhere, Emilia was just about to reach for it when yet another voice made her turn, and a wary smile reached her lips when she recognized its owner. "Uncle Keikelius," she murmured, just as cautious of him as she was of Elias up till lately. Her uncle had never been the closest to her, and neither did he own the warm, comforting aura her father had, so Emilia had always felt the need to be on her best behaviour in regards to Keikelius. And old habits die hard. Emilia quickly disentangled her arms from Danae and Ariadne to do a respectful curtsy, before responding. "Things are alright." As they can be, she supposed, even though they have yet to move forward with hosting a Senate. "But perhaps some assistance would be useful from you, uncle?" she asked, for the first time voicing out, even if it was done in a very hesitant, uncertain tone.
Hero had never been to a festival outside of Arcana before and so far, her high expectations were well-met as the vendors supplied many a crop and cloth. The girl of sixteen bobbed from one vendor to another, the coins in her basket clinking together as she swung it side to side aimlessly. Unfortunately for her, she was without chaperone - earlier, she arrived with her two friends Ariadne and Ismene, duplicates of each other with dissimilar temperaments. Ariadne shared similar traits with the former princess she was named after: Reliable with the faintest traces of grace, the older woman did her name justice by serving and remaining loyal to the Royal Princess Persephone. As for Ismene, she's beautiful as she was spirited and often stopped by to tend to Hero's grandfather's war wounds. She knew Ismene more than she knew Ariadne, but ever since the Princess's disappearance, Ariadne returned to Arcana which potentially can help Hero get to know her a little better. And the trip to the festival would've helped with that - if the fisherwoman hadn't run off...
Blending into the crowd, Hero's bright blue eyes widened as she passed the diverse vendors. Lightly bobbing her head to the cheerful music as her eyes flicked from merchant to merchant. Immediately, one stall in particular caught her gaze. At the stall, a handsome young man balanced a palette in one hand and a thick brush in the other. He looked to be highly educated, but still struggling to make ends meet based on the splattered colors coating his chiton. He was swinging his brush on a sitting person's face. eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Eager to spectate this oddity, Hero approached the stall and stopped as soon as she reached the man and the client. Finished with his work, he warned the person not to touch their face before dismissing them once paid. As the client stood, the sixteen year old gasped loudly. There was a beautiful shade of red around their cheek shaped like a small circle, with a thin brown stick sitting it along with a green leaf dangling from the stick. "My, what a beautiful apple~!" Hero exclaimed, smiling as the stranger nodded towards her and walked off. Before the man could welcome her she immediately lunged forward to plop down on the chair, setting her basket on her lap.
"I want one just like theirs - except the fruit should be grapes-- maybe an apple?" Hero pondered on the choice, pinching her thin cheek. Decisions, decisions. "No... how about - No wait, a crayfish wouldn't be appropriate for this festival would it? Oh never mind that-- Oh! It can be a fig? But then a fig would look as if I had a bruise- not sure how Isi would react to that. Hmph, oh right! How about an orange? Can you do an orange?"
The painter raised an eyebrow in response, taken aback by her indecisiveness. With a nod, he instructed her to close her eyes and dipped his brush into the palette in preparation. "My Gods this is exciting," She exclaimed, beginning to shut her eyes but left one as slightly agape. "I've never had my face painted before and it makes me wonder if this is always done in this providence, or anywhere for that matter. But I never left Arcana until today so I wouldn't know - would you?" The painter parried her rambling with a grunt, requesting that she shut her eye. "Oops, sorry!" And her eye closed, following with her excitement and mouth. She giggled as the brush made contact with her left temple, the prickling bristles poked at her skin as she did her best to hold in her laughter. Fortunately for her, the tickling brush reverted into cold slime and earned silent pursed-lip disgust. The brush swept near her eyebrow, making a large circle around her eye stopping once it reached her lower eyelids. The process repeated itself four times until the brush strokes became slimier than before. Hero was accustomed to slime and all things wet as she was a seamonger, but nothing felt more unpleasant than having a squid latch itself onto your face. And that was what having her face painted felt like.
Finally, the painter finished and the young woman released a sigh of relief. Opening her eyes, she stuck her hand into her basket and begun to fish for coins. Scooping up half of her coins, she placed it in the man's hand. "Thank you, have a good last harvest!" She called as she left the stall looking a bit different than before. The facial painting enhanced her appearance a little bit: It was of an open orange, the rim of the fruit was a darker orange color whilst the circle under it was white, with the middle section being yellow and cut into the size of seven sliced pies. The fruit was shaped like a crescent moon around her left eye, with bright green spots dotted above it like patches of grass with a few yellow spots for complement. She was wearing a loose fitted white chiton and her best tan sandals, which looked slightly worn out but concealed by long chiton. Her dark blonde hair fell into waves over her shoulders and stopped at the middle her back, but was neatly dressed - gods forbid Ismene and her grandmother would let her out in public looking the way she usually did.
"Hm, now where is Ariadne and Isi?" Hero thought aloud, sliding her basket around her arm and pulling the handle up to rest onto her tanned shoulder. Knowing them, they were either together or separated - separated only for an hour or so before remaining back with each other. Looking from stall to stall, a loud growl sounding as if it came from the hellish pits of Tartarus caused her to halt in her tracks. Her hand flew to her belly, clutching the white cloth that created her chiton. Now she really had to find them! Hungry and a bit lost, she quickened her steps and gazes. Not before long, a familiar colored-chiton caused her to rush over to the crowded destination. She was quick to stop herself as the owner of the gown was occupied with people that looked wealthier and more important than she. With a sigh, Hero continued her search and after a minute or so, she found Ismene who was conversing with a familiar but unfamiliar man.
"Ismene!" Hero waved, darting over to her in mere excitement. "Thank the gods I found you, I was worried that I lost you and Ariadne." Without skipping a beat, she gestured towards her facial painting of the crescent-shaped orange. "Look what I got Ismene! Isn't it pretty? I never knew such a thing existed - it's practically genius! Which is why it's so bad that I have to wipe it off, hope the bathouse here isn't as full as this festival." Her gaze landed on the man. "Oh I am so rude! Where are my manners? I'm Ismene--" With how many times she's said her friend's name during her gab, it was no wonder she'd flub on her introduction. She shook her head, her wavy hair flying with it before landing back onto her shoulders. "No, no, she's Ismene. I'm Hero! Her friend, and who might you be?"
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Hero had never been to a festival outside of Arcana before and so far, her high expectations were well-met as the vendors supplied many a crop and cloth. The girl of sixteen bobbed from one vendor to another, the coins in her basket clinking together as she swung it side to side aimlessly. Unfortunately for her, she was without chaperone - earlier, she arrived with her two friends Ariadne and Ismene, duplicates of each other with dissimilar temperaments. Ariadne shared similar traits with the former princess she was named after: Reliable with the faintest traces of grace, the older woman did her name justice by serving and remaining loyal to the Royal Princess Persephone. As for Ismene, she's beautiful as she was spirited and often stopped by to tend to Hero's grandfather's war wounds. She knew Ismene more than she knew Ariadne, but ever since the Princess's disappearance, Ariadne returned to Arcana which potentially can help Hero get to know her a little better. And the trip to the festival would've helped with that - if the fisherwoman hadn't run off...
Blending into the crowd, Hero's bright blue eyes widened as she passed the diverse vendors. Lightly bobbing her head to the cheerful music as her eyes flicked from merchant to merchant. Immediately, one stall in particular caught her gaze. At the stall, a handsome young man balanced a palette in one hand and a thick brush in the other. He looked to be highly educated, but still struggling to make ends meet based on the splattered colors coating his chiton. He was swinging his brush on a sitting person's face. eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Eager to spectate this oddity, Hero approached the stall and stopped as soon as she reached the man and the client. Finished with his work, he warned the person not to touch their face before dismissing them once paid. As the client stood, the sixteen year old gasped loudly. There was a beautiful shade of red around their cheek shaped like a small circle, with a thin brown stick sitting it along with a green leaf dangling from the stick. "My, what a beautiful apple~!" Hero exclaimed, smiling as the stranger nodded towards her and walked off. Before the man could welcome her she immediately lunged forward to plop down on the chair, setting her basket on her lap.
"I want one just like theirs - except the fruit should be grapes-- maybe an apple?" Hero pondered on the choice, pinching her thin cheek. Decisions, decisions. "No... how about - No wait, a crayfish wouldn't be appropriate for this festival would it? Oh never mind that-- Oh! It can be a fig? But then a fig would look as if I had a bruise- not sure how Isi would react to that. Hmph, oh right! How about an orange? Can you do an orange?"
The painter raised an eyebrow in response, taken aback by her indecisiveness. With a nod, he instructed her to close her eyes and dipped his brush into the palette in preparation. "My Gods this is exciting," She exclaimed, beginning to shut her eyes but left one as slightly agape. "I've never had my face painted before and it makes me wonder if this is always done in this providence, or anywhere for that matter. But I never left Arcana until today so I wouldn't know - would you?" The painter parried her rambling with a grunt, requesting that she shut her eye. "Oops, sorry!" And her eye closed, following with her excitement and mouth. She giggled as the brush made contact with her left temple, the prickling bristles poked at her skin as she did her best to hold in her laughter. Fortunately for her, the tickling brush reverted into cold slime and earned silent pursed-lip disgust. The brush swept near her eyebrow, making a large circle around her eye stopping once it reached her lower eyelids. The process repeated itself four times until the brush strokes became slimier than before. Hero was accustomed to slime and all things wet as she was a seamonger, but nothing felt more unpleasant than having a squid latch itself onto your face. And that was what having her face painted felt like.
Finally, the painter finished and the young woman released a sigh of relief. Opening her eyes, she stuck her hand into her basket and begun to fish for coins. Scooping up half of her coins, she placed it in the man's hand. "Thank you, have a good last harvest!" She called as she left the stall looking a bit different than before. The facial painting enhanced her appearance a little bit: It was of an open orange, the rim of the fruit was a darker orange color whilst the circle under it was white, with the middle section being yellow and cut into the size of seven sliced pies. The fruit was shaped like a crescent moon around her left eye, with bright green spots dotted above it like patches of grass with a few yellow spots for complement. She was wearing a loose fitted white chiton and her best tan sandals, which looked slightly worn out but concealed by long chiton. Her dark blonde hair fell into waves over her shoulders and stopped at the middle her back, but was neatly dressed - gods forbid Ismene and her grandmother would let her out in public looking the way she usually did.
"Hm, now where is Ariadne and Isi?" Hero thought aloud, sliding her basket around her arm and pulling the handle up to rest onto her tanned shoulder. Knowing them, they were either together or separated - separated only for an hour or so before remaining back with each other. Looking from stall to stall, a loud growl sounding as if it came from the hellish pits of Tartarus caused her to halt in her tracks. Her hand flew to her belly, clutching the white cloth that created her chiton. Now she really had to find them! Hungry and a bit lost, she quickened her steps and gazes. Not before long, a familiar colored-chiton caused her to rush over to the crowded destination. She was quick to stop herself as the owner of the gown was occupied with people that looked wealthier and more important than she. With a sigh, Hero continued her search and after a minute or so, she found Ismene who was conversing with a familiar but unfamiliar man.
"Ismene!" Hero waved, darting over to her in mere excitement. "Thank the gods I found you, I was worried that I lost you and Ariadne." Without skipping a beat, she gestured towards her facial painting of the crescent-shaped orange. "Look what I got Ismene! Isn't it pretty? I never knew such a thing existed - it's practically genius! Which is why it's so bad that I have to wipe it off, hope the bathouse here isn't as full as this festival." Her gaze landed on the man. "Oh I am so rude! Where are my manners? I'm Ismene--" With how many times she's said her friend's name during her gab, it was no wonder she'd flub on her introduction. She shook her head, her wavy hair flying with it before landing back onto her shoulders. "No, no, she's Ismene. I'm Hero! Her friend, and who might you be?"
Hero had never been to a festival outside of Arcana before and so far, her high expectations were well-met as the vendors supplied many a crop and cloth. The girl of sixteen bobbed from one vendor to another, the coins in her basket clinking together as she swung it side to side aimlessly. Unfortunately for her, she was without chaperone - earlier, she arrived with her two friends Ariadne and Ismene, duplicates of each other with dissimilar temperaments. Ariadne shared similar traits with the former princess she was named after: Reliable with the faintest traces of grace, the older woman did her name justice by serving and remaining loyal to the Royal Princess Persephone. As for Ismene, she's beautiful as she was spirited and often stopped by to tend to Hero's grandfather's war wounds. She knew Ismene more than she knew Ariadne, but ever since the Princess's disappearance, Ariadne returned to Arcana which potentially can help Hero get to know her a little better. And the trip to the festival would've helped with that - if the fisherwoman hadn't run off...
Blending into the crowd, Hero's bright blue eyes widened as she passed the diverse vendors. Lightly bobbing her head to the cheerful music as her eyes flicked from merchant to merchant. Immediately, one stall in particular caught her gaze. At the stall, a handsome young man balanced a palette in one hand and a thick brush in the other. He looked to be highly educated, but still struggling to make ends meet based on the splattered colors coating his chiton. He was swinging his brush on a sitting person's face. eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Eager to spectate this oddity, Hero approached the stall and stopped as soon as she reached the man and the client. Finished with his work, he warned the person not to touch their face before dismissing them once paid. As the client stood, the sixteen year old gasped loudly. There was a beautiful shade of red around their cheek shaped like a small circle, with a thin brown stick sitting it along with a green leaf dangling from the stick. "My, what a beautiful apple~!" Hero exclaimed, smiling as the stranger nodded towards her and walked off. Before the man could welcome her she immediately lunged forward to plop down on the chair, setting her basket on her lap.
"I want one just like theirs - except the fruit should be grapes-- maybe an apple?" Hero pondered on the choice, pinching her thin cheek. Decisions, decisions. "No... how about - No wait, a crayfish wouldn't be appropriate for this festival would it? Oh never mind that-- Oh! It can be a fig? But then a fig would look as if I had a bruise- not sure how Isi would react to that. Hmph, oh right! How about an orange? Can you do an orange?"
The painter raised an eyebrow in response, taken aback by her indecisiveness. With a nod, he instructed her to close her eyes and dipped his brush into the palette in preparation. "My Gods this is exciting," She exclaimed, beginning to shut her eyes but left one as slightly agape. "I've never had my face painted before and it makes me wonder if this is always done in this providence, or anywhere for that matter. But I never left Arcana until today so I wouldn't know - would you?" The painter parried her rambling with a grunt, requesting that she shut her eye. "Oops, sorry!" And her eye closed, following with her excitement and mouth. She giggled as the brush made contact with her left temple, the prickling bristles poked at her skin as she did her best to hold in her laughter. Fortunately for her, the tickling brush reverted into cold slime and earned silent pursed-lip disgust. The brush swept near her eyebrow, making a large circle around her eye stopping once it reached her lower eyelids. The process repeated itself four times until the brush strokes became slimier than before. Hero was accustomed to slime and all things wet as she was a seamonger, but nothing felt more unpleasant than having a squid latch itself onto your face. And that was what having her face painted felt like.
Finally, the painter finished and the young woman released a sigh of relief. Opening her eyes, she stuck her hand into her basket and begun to fish for coins. Scooping up half of her coins, she placed it in the man's hand. "Thank you, have a good last harvest!" She called as she left the stall looking a bit different than before. The facial painting enhanced her appearance a little bit: It was of an open orange, the rim of the fruit was a darker orange color whilst the circle under it was white, with the middle section being yellow and cut into the size of seven sliced pies. The fruit was shaped like a crescent moon around her left eye, with bright green spots dotted above it like patches of grass with a few yellow spots for complement. She was wearing a loose fitted white chiton and her best tan sandals, which looked slightly worn out but concealed by long chiton. Her dark blonde hair fell into waves over her shoulders and stopped at the middle her back, but was neatly dressed - gods forbid Ismene and her grandmother would let her out in public looking the way she usually did.
"Hm, now where is Ariadne and Isi?" Hero thought aloud, sliding her basket around her arm and pulling the handle up to rest onto her tanned shoulder. Knowing them, they were either together or separated - separated only for an hour or so before remaining back with each other. Looking from stall to stall, a loud growl sounding as if it came from the hellish pits of Tartarus caused her to halt in her tracks. Her hand flew to her belly, clutching the white cloth that created her chiton. Now she really had to find them! Hungry and a bit lost, she quickened her steps and gazes. Not before long, a familiar colored-chiton caused her to rush over to the crowded destination. She was quick to stop herself as the owner of the gown was occupied with people that looked wealthier and more important than she. With a sigh, Hero continued her search and after a minute or so, she found Ismene who was conversing with a familiar but unfamiliar man.
"Ismene!" Hero waved, darting over to her in mere excitement. "Thank the gods I found you, I was worried that I lost you and Ariadne." Without skipping a beat, she gestured towards her facial painting of the crescent-shaped orange. "Look what I got Ismene! Isn't it pretty? I never knew such a thing existed - it's practically genius! Which is why it's so bad that I have to wipe it off, hope the bathouse here isn't as full as this festival." Her gaze landed on the man. "Oh I am so rude! Where are my manners? I'm Ismene--" With how many times she's said her friend's name during her gab, it was no wonder she'd flub on her introduction. She shook her head, her wavy hair flying with it before landing back onto her shoulders. "No, no, she's Ismene. I'm Hero! Her friend, and who might you be?"
Cicero’s deep bellow echoed through the upper hallway, bouncing off the marble walls and floors. Elysia leaned closer to the mirror of her vanity, running her fingers through her hair. She scrutinized her features, making a pouty shape with her lips. “Hmmm,” she hummed to herself, pulling a tendril of hair down to frame her face just so. Satisfied with this final touch, she whirled around and swept out of the room. Descending the staircase, she smiled serenely at him, as though his restless energy wasn’t ruffling in the least, and presented herself to him in a vision of white linen with delicate silver braided into her hair. She didn’t react to his annoyance when he looked at her.
Her husband purposefully stood aside, a clear indication that he wanted her to go first. Without a word, she walked ahead of him and climbed into the carriage. The carriage leaned hard on its left wheels as Cicero climbed in, then righted itself. Elysia smoothed the wrinkles in her dress, then laid one hand over the other and looked out the window as the carriage lurched into motion.
"Let us hope there are no further riots today. Should things turn awry though, head for this address." Cicero’s deep voice was one she could listen to forever and she didn’t care that it was clipped in annoyance. Drawing her attention to him, she didn’t have time to really look at what he was handing her before she found it in her grasp. Brows drawing together, she unfolded the paper and read the address before looking up at him again.
For anyone else, she’d have verbally checked why they were wondering if there would be trouble, but for Cicero, she knew better and didn’t question him. If he’d gone to the trouble of marking down an address, then he had good reason to assume that there at least might be an issue.
"We will see the Princess today, which will be interesting."
“Getting near her has been a logistical nightmare,” Elysia curled her fingers under her chin and rested her elbow on the frame of the carriage. “If Lord Stravos has her interests at heart, I'd be entirely shocked.”
"She likes you doesn’t she? It’d be novel to know what tales she has been fed. We should speak with her"
“That will be my sole aim,” she agreed with a smile and looked back out the window. The carriage trundled along, bumping against uneven stones until they reached the central square, or as near to it as the carriage could go. She waited for Cicero to get out first, then followed him, smoothing her dress again as soon as she was out and looking around. Throwing a single glance over her shoulder at her husband, she moved away from him and into the crowd, looking for her target: Princess Emilia.
The princess was not hard to find. Surrounded by people of note and a girl of little importance now, Elysia loosely crossed her arms over her chest, thinking. Walking straight up would be strange, and suspicious. Her eyes landed on Adriadne again and then swept toward Ismene and a girl whom Elysia couldn’t name. That would be the ‘in’, she decided. Fixing a brilliant smile upon her face, she walked up to Ismene and touched the back of the girl’s arm with just her fingertips to gain her attention.
“Ismene, yes? Could I borrow you for the smallest moment?” she asked, knowing full well that the two of them didn’t know each other all that well and didn’t actually care. This girl would be a good way to get to Adriadne, and therefore, Emilia. Smiling at Hero and Lord Adrestus, she shrugged on shoulder. "I just need to borrow her for the smallest of moments and then I'll have her straight back to you. Promise."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Cicero’s deep bellow echoed through the upper hallway, bouncing off the marble walls and floors. Elysia leaned closer to the mirror of her vanity, running her fingers through her hair. She scrutinized her features, making a pouty shape with her lips. “Hmmm,” she hummed to herself, pulling a tendril of hair down to frame her face just so. Satisfied with this final touch, she whirled around and swept out of the room. Descending the staircase, she smiled serenely at him, as though his restless energy wasn’t ruffling in the least, and presented herself to him in a vision of white linen with delicate silver braided into her hair. She didn’t react to his annoyance when he looked at her.
Her husband purposefully stood aside, a clear indication that he wanted her to go first. Without a word, she walked ahead of him and climbed into the carriage. The carriage leaned hard on its left wheels as Cicero climbed in, then righted itself. Elysia smoothed the wrinkles in her dress, then laid one hand over the other and looked out the window as the carriage lurched into motion.
"Let us hope there are no further riots today. Should things turn awry though, head for this address." Cicero’s deep voice was one she could listen to forever and she didn’t care that it was clipped in annoyance. Drawing her attention to him, she didn’t have time to really look at what he was handing her before she found it in her grasp. Brows drawing together, she unfolded the paper and read the address before looking up at him again.
For anyone else, she’d have verbally checked why they were wondering if there would be trouble, but for Cicero, she knew better and didn’t question him. If he’d gone to the trouble of marking down an address, then he had good reason to assume that there at least might be an issue.
"We will see the Princess today, which will be interesting."
“Getting near her has been a logistical nightmare,” Elysia curled her fingers under her chin and rested her elbow on the frame of the carriage. “If Lord Stravos has her interests at heart, I'd be entirely shocked.”
"She likes you doesn’t she? It’d be novel to know what tales she has been fed. We should speak with her"
“That will be my sole aim,” she agreed with a smile and looked back out the window. The carriage trundled along, bumping against uneven stones until they reached the central square, or as near to it as the carriage could go. She waited for Cicero to get out first, then followed him, smoothing her dress again as soon as she was out and looking around. Throwing a single glance over her shoulder at her husband, she moved away from him and into the crowd, looking for her target: Princess Emilia.
The princess was not hard to find. Surrounded by people of note and a girl of little importance now, Elysia loosely crossed her arms over her chest, thinking. Walking straight up would be strange, and suspicious. Her eyes landed on Adriadne again and then swept toward Ismene and a girl whom Elysia couldn’t name. That would be the ‘in’, she decided. Fixing a brilliant smile upon her face, she walked up to Ismene and touched the back of the girl’s arm with just her fingertips to gain her attention.
“Ismene, yes? Could I borrow you for the smallest moment?” she asked, knowing full well that the two of them didn’t know each other all that well and didn’t actually care. This girl would be a good way to get to Adriadne, and therefore, Emilia. Smiling at Hero and Lord Adrestus, she shrugged on shoulder. "I just need to borrow her for the smallest of moments and then I'll have her straight back to you. Promise."
Cicero’s deep bellow echoed through the upper hallway, bouncing off the marble walls and floors. Elysia leaned closer to the mirror of her vanity, running her fingers through her hair. She scrutinized her features, making a pouty shape with her lips. “Hmmm,” she hummed to herself, pulling a tendril of hair down to frame her face just so. Satisfied with this final touch, she whirled around and swept out of the room. Descending the staircase, she smiled serenely at him, as though his restless energy wasn’t ruffling in the least, and presented herself to him in a vision of white linen with delicate silver braided into her hair. She didn’t react to his annoyance when he looked at her.
Her husband purposefully stood aside, a clear indication that he wanted her to go first. Without a word, she walked ahead of him and climbed into the carriage. The carriage leaned hard on its left wheels as Cicero climbed in, then righted itself. Elysia smoothed the wrinkles in her dress, then laid one hand over the other and looked out the window as the carriage lurched into motion.
"Let us hope there are no further riots today. Should things turn awry though, head for this address." Cicero’s deep voice was one she could listen to forever and she didn’t care that it was clipped in annoyance. Drawing her attention to him, she didn’t have time to really look at what he was handing her before she found it in her grasp. Brows drawing together, she unfolded the paper and read the address before looking up at him again.
For anyone else, she’d have verbally checked why they were wondering if there would be trouble, but for Cicero, she knew better and didn’t question him. If he’d gone to the trouble of marking down an address, then he had good reason to assume that there at least might be an issue.
"We will see the Princess today, which will be interesting."
“Getting near her has been a logistical nightmare,” Elysia curled her fingers under her chin and rested her elbow on the frame of the carriage. “If Lord Stravos has her interests at heart, I'd be entirely shocked.”
"She likes you doesn’t she? It’d be novel to know what tales she has been fed. We should speak with her"
“That will be my sole aim,” she agreed with a smile and looked back out the window. The carriage trundled along, bumping against uneven stones until they reached the central square, or as near to it as the carriage could go. She waited for Cicero to get out first, then followed him, smoothing her dress again as soon as she was out and looking around. Throwing a single glance over her shoulder at her husband, she moved away from him and into the crowd, looking for her target: Princess Emilia.
The princess was not hard to find. Surrounded by people of note and a girl of little importance now, Elysia loosely crossed her arms over her chest, thinking. Walking straight up would be strange, and suspicious. Her eyes landed on Adriadne again and then swept toward Ismene and a girl whom Elysia couldn’t name. That would be the ‘in’, she decided. Fixing a brilliant smile upon her face, she walked up to Ismene and touched the back of the girl’s arm with just her fingertips to gain her attention.
“Ismene, yes? Could I borrow you for the smallest moment?” she asked, knowing full well that the two of them didn’t know each other all that well and didn’t actually care. This girl would be a good way to get to Adriadne, and therefore, Emilia. Smiling at Hero and Lord Adrestus, she shrugged on shoulder. "I just need to borrow her for the smallest of moments and then I'll have her straight back to you. Promise."
If Hector had been any other man, there would have been a chalice of strongly fortified wine in his hand to soothe his nerves at such a large festival. Given the eventfulness of his past several visits to Athenia, he was loathe to return again so quickly, knowing the discord and the disruptions that seemed to appear before him at every turn. If he had his way, Hector and his entire brood would continue business as usual in Arcana and keep their heads low and out of sight, hunkering down in case any such discord should reach their countryside hamlet.
He may have been a cautious man, but he was not a cruel man, particularly not to his daughters. As a devout man, who made purposeful visits to the major temples whenever he ventured to Athenia and kept a prominent and organized shrine for the various gods in his house, he knew that part of his devotion was not to neglect festivals in their honor. He raised his daughters in the same manner as well. As such, missing this festival to honor the blessed harvest that now fed a nearly starved country was out of the question...despite how it set his mind on edge.
His brows were leveled, pressing two vertical lines between them, perched over his nose as he pretended to stand among the crowd, watching a bard tell the story of an ancient battle caused by the goddess of love offering a golden apple to a love-struck prince. People were enraptured by the familiar story, and Hector would never say it aloud, but the bard's voice and telling of it was not half bad. His posture and stance did nothing to display it though, as she stood there, feet apart at shoulder width and arms-crossed over his chest.
While he did not make a show of it, his eyes flicked around the croud in the Plateía, watching every movement of a particular set of golden-haired Arcana youths - feeling much like a shepherd watching a flock of gold-fleeced sheep in this wilderness of people. Wolves could lurk anywhere.
Though he was not one to declare favorites - he never could - his eyes lingered most particularly on Ariadne. Since the siege on the Palatí, he kept her very close at home, sensitive to his daughter's needs. After all, it had been some time since he had seen her before the attack, with her position keeping her at the young Princess-turned-Queen's side for many months of the year. His duty's ventures to report his province's proceedings to General Lacides of Antonis was a blessing that allowed him to see her as often as he could, along with whenever the royal retinue retired to Arcana for a while. But now, things had changed, and he was concerned about how this return to the capital would affect her, so his eyes lingered on her the most.
As for Ismene, well...a glance in the direction of his bolder daughter saw her in the company of Lord Adrestus, which in some ways was both a relief and mildly concerning. Only recently had he started to realize how time had passed along rather quickly - he knew his daughters were grown, even though he kept them close, but seeing the young Lord and Baron-to-be out in the world, having become a man in that time, it was surprising. He could remember being that age so clearly, so to see time flouted before him...it was not a comfortable thought at times.
Among their small retinue, the young girl, Hero, had joined them on their trip into Athenia - another golden child of Arcana that he kept his eye on for the sake of responsibility. She held his attention a moment as he watched her bounding towards Ismene and Adre, chattering soundlessly from where he stood. All was well for a moment and he glanced to Demi where she stood by him, enraptured in the story, and he nearly turned his attention back to the bard before him when it all seemed to happen at once.
Ariadne stood before Crown Princess Emilia and her guard, a familiar face from the bathhouse present there. That, in itself, was no issue - Ari could navigate these waters better than anyone of their tribe, likely even more so than Adrestus. It was only when the staggered appearance of House Stravos arrived, flocking like birds to feed one then another, that his arms unfurled and his weight shifted. He had suspicions but no proof at this time, but something did not sit right in his gut. Protective of his daughter, he wanted to do something to bring her near in some way without interfering.
Then, his glance over saw the familiar face of the Master Informer's wife speaking to Ismene of all people. Did...Mistress Elysia know Ismene at all? His brow and jaw set suspiciously, too far away to do much in that moment besides trying to catch the eyes of Lord Adrestus...and then those of the Master Informer Cicero himself.
Hector knew his role in the political sphere of Athenia, and until this point the only dangers had been from being issued to war and his province's loyal and tight connection to the Xanthos name. He had no problem being involved in such things.
His daughters? That was another story entirely.
Hector made to move, not even certain which of his daughters situations to approach first, when he felt Demi's hand on his arm, glancing between her and the situations away from the bard a few times before making a distinct, muffled grunt and speaking low, "I don't like it...at all."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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If Hector had been any other man, there would have been a chalice of strongly fortified wine in his hand to soothe his nerves at such a large festival. Given the eventfulness of his past several visits to Athenia, he was loathe to return again so quickly, knowing the discord and the disruptions that seemed to appear before him at every turn. If he had his way, Hector and his entire brood would continue business as usual in Arcana and keep their heads low and out of sight, hunkering down in case any such discord should reach their countryside hamlet.
He may have been a cautious man, but he was not a cruel man, particularly not to his daughters. As a devout man, who made purposeful visits to the major temples whenever he ventured to Athenia and kept a prominent and organized shrine for the various gods in his house, he knew that part of his devotion was not to neglect festivals in their honor. He raised his daughters in the same manner as well. As such, missing this festival to honor the blessed harvest that now fed a nearly starved country was out of the question...despite how it set his mind on edge.
His brows were leveled, pressing two vertical lines between them, perched over his nose as he pretended to stand among the crowd, watching a bard tell the story of an ancient battle caused by the goddess of love offering a golden apple to a love-struck prince. People were enraptured by the familiar story, and Hector would never say it aloud, but the bard's voice and telling of it was not half bad. His posture and stance did nothing to display it though, as she stood there, feet apart at shoulder width and arms-crossed over his chest.
While he did not make a show of it, his eyes flicked around the croud in the Plateía, watching every movement of a particular set of golden-haired Arcana youths - feeling much like a shepherd watching a flock of gold-fleeced sheep in this wilderness of people. Wolves could lurk anywhere.
Though he was not one to declare favorites - he never could - his eyes lingered most particularly on Ariadne. Since the siege on the Palatí, he kept her very close at home, sensitive to his daughter's needs. After all, it had been some time since he had seen her before the attack, with her position keeping her at the young Princess-turned-Queen's side for many months of the year. His duty's ventures to report his province's proceedings to General Lacides of Antonis was a blessing that allowed him to see her as often as he could, along with whenever the royal retinue retired to Arcana for a while. But now, things had changed, and he was concerned about how this return to the capital would affect her, so his eyes lingered on her the most.
As for Ismene, well...a glance in the direction of his bolder daughter saw her in the company of Lord Adrestus, which in some ways was both a relief and mildly concerning. Only recently had he started to realize how time had passed along rather quickly - he knew his daughters were grown, even though he kept them close, but seeing the young Lord and Baron-to-be out in the world, having become a man in that time, it was surprising. He could remember being that age so clearly, so to see time flouted before him...it was not a comfortable thought at times.
Among their small retinue, the young girl, Hero, had joined them on their trip into Athenia - another golden child of Arcana that he kept his eye on for the sake of responsibility. She held his attention a moment as he watched her bounding towards Ismene and Adre, chattering soundlessly from where he stood. All was well for a moment and he glanced to Demi where she stood by him, enraptured in the story, and he nearly turned his attention back to the bard before him when it all seemed to happen at once.
Ariadne stood before Crown Princess Emilia and her guard, a familiar face from the bathhouse present there. That, in itself, was no issue - Ari could navigate these waters better than anyone of their tribe, likely even more so than Adrestus. It was only when the staggered appearance of House Stravos arrived, flocking like birds to feed one then another, that his arms unfurled and his weight shifted. He had suspicions but no proof at this time, but something did not sit right in his gut. Protective of his daughter, he wanted to do something to bring her near in some way without interfering.
Then, his glance over saw the familiar face of the Master Informer's wife speaking to Ismene of all people. Did...Mistress Elysia know Ismene at all? His brow and jaw set suspiciously, too far away to do much in that moment besides trying to catch the eyes of Lord Adrestus...and then those of the Master Informer Cicero himself.
Hector knew his role in the political sphere of Athenia, and until this point the only dangers had been from being issued to war and his province's loyal and tight connection to the Xanthos name. He had no problem being involved in such things.
His daughters? That was another story entirely.
Hector made to move, not even certain which of his daughters situations to approach first, when he felt Demi's hand on his arm, glancing between her and the situations away from the bard a few times before making a distinct, muffled grunt and speaking low, "I don't like it...at all."
If Hector had been any other man, there would have been a chalice of strongly fortified wine in his hand to soothe his nerves at such a large festival. Given the eventfulness of his past several visits to Athenia, he was loathe to return again so quickly, knowing the discord and the disruptions that seemed to appear before him at every turn. If he had his way, Hector and his entire brood would continue business as usual in Arcana and keep their heads low and out of sight, hunkering down in case any such discord should reach their countryside hamlet.
He may have been a cautious man, but he was not a cruel man, particularly not to his daughters. As a devout man, who made purposeful visits to the major temples whenever he ventured to Athenia and kept a prominent and organized shrine for the various gods in his house, he knew that part of his devotion was not to neglect festivals in their honor. He raised his daughters in the same manner as well. As such, missing this festival to honor the blessed harvest that now fed a nearly starved country was out of the question...despite how it set his mind on edge.
His brows were leveled, pressing two vertical lines between them, perched over his nose as he pretended to stand among the crowd, watching a bard tell the story of an ancient battle caused by the goddess of love offering a golden apple to a love-struck prince. People were enraptured by the familiar story, and Hector would never say it aloud, but the bard's voice and telling of it was not half bad. His posture and stance did nothing to display it though, as she stood there, feet apart at shoulder width and arms-crossed over his chest.
While he did not make a show of it, his eyes flicked around the croud in the Plateía, watching every movement of a particular set of golden-haired Arcana youths - feeling much like a shepherd watching a flock of gold-fleeced sheep in this wilderness of people. Wolves could lurk anywhere.
Though he was not one to declare favorites - he never could - his eyes lingered most particularly on Ariadne. Since the siege on the Palatí, he kept her very close at home, sensitive to his daughter's needs. After all, it had been some time since he had seen her before the attack, with her position keeping her at the young Princess-turned-Queen's side for many months of the year. His duty's ventures to report his province's proceedings to General Lacides of Antonis was a blessing that allowed him to see her as often as he could, along with whenever the royal retinue retired to Arcana for a while. But now, things had changed, and he was concerned about how this return to the capital would affect her, so his eyes lingered on her the most.
As for Ismene, well...a glance in the direction of his bolder daughter saw her in the company of Lord Adrestus, which in some ways was both a relief and mildly concerning. Only recently had he started to realize how time had passed along rather quickly - he knew his daughters were grown, even though he kept them close, but seeing the young Lord and Baron-to-be out in the world, having become a man in that time, it was surprising. He could remember being that age so clearly, so to see time flouted before him...it was not a comfortable thought at times.
Among their small retinue, the young girl, Hero, had joined them on their trip into Athenia - another golden child of Arcana that he kept his eye on for the sake of responsibility. She held his attention a moment as he watched her bounding towards Ismene and Adre, chattering soundlessly from where he stood. All was well for a moment and he glanced to Demi where she stood by him, enraptured in the story, and he nearly turned his attention back to the bard before him when it all seemed to happen at once.
Ariadne stood before Crown Princess Emilia and her guard, a familiar face from the bathhouse present there. That, in itself, was no issue - Ari could navigate these waters better than anyone of their tribe, likely even more so than Adrestus. It was only when the staggered appearance of House Stravos arrived, flocking like birds to feed one then another, that his arms unfurled and his weight shifted. He had suspicions but no proof at this time, but something did not sit right in his gut. Protective of his daughter, he wanted to do something to bring her near in some way without interfering.
Then, his glance over saw the familiar face of the Master Informer's wife speaking to Ismene of all people. Did...Mistress Elysia know Ismene at all? His brow and jaw set suspiciously, too far away to do much in that moment besides trying to catch the eyes of Lord Adrestus...and then those of the Master Informer Cicero himself.
Hector knew his role in the political sphere of Athenia, and until this point the only dangers had been from being issued to war and his province's loyal and tight connection to the Xanthos name. He had no problem being involved in such things.
His daughters? That was another story entirely.
Hector made to move, not even certain which of his daughters situations to approach first, when he felt Demi's hand on his arm, glancing between her and the situations away from the bard a few times before making a distinct, muffled grunt and speaking low, "I don't like it...at all."
Hebe had arrived at the festival with her family, but they had all separated shortly after they left their carriage. Although her sisters had been allowed to go off on their own for years, this was the first time for the baby of the Antonis clan. She had been required to stay with her parents at all times, though she had often become distracted and wandered away. Today she was accompanied by a guard and a chaperone and was free to explore on her own. Her mother’s forehead had been creased with worry when her youngest waved good-bye and assured her that she would be just fine.
And so Hebe had traipsed away, managing not to trip over the hem of her orange silk chiton. It had been made just for this occasion in a hue that the young girl thought was very harvest-y. It was trimmed in wide bands of purple with golden designs and was held in place and pinned along her arms with fibulae fashioned of gold and amethysts. Her jewelry echoed that color scheme, consisting of a wide golden necklace studded with amethysts and a matching bracelet, earrings and headpiece. A belt made of many tiny golden chains was wrapped around her torso from just below her bosom to right above the curve of her hips, accenting the smallness of her waist. Her sandals were golden too and accented with orange and purple beads.
What shall I do first? A stall selling fine jewelry caught her attention and she went to check out its wares. Noticing how well-dressed she was, the stall owner assisted her himself and Hebe allowed herself to be talked into purchasing a beautiful pearl and diamond necklace with matching accessories. It even included an unusual tiara with strings of dangling pearls as well as decorations for a plain pair of sandals. She probably would have bought the set anyway. Hebe adored pearls but she let the shopkeeper think he was responsible for the sale.
As she left the stall, with her chaperone carrying the box, a group of acrobats tumbled past her and she watched them as they cartwheeled and flipped into the air. I wish I could do that. It must feel like flying. They were so graceful whereas she was clumsy. Had she been born a commoner, she probably wouldn’t have become an acrobat. That didn’t stop her from enjoying their performance. Their daring feats had her gasping in awe.
Until the sweet sound of music lured her away. Following the sound, she came upon a bard who was better than many she had heard at the palace. Pushing to the front of the crowd gathered around him, she listened in fascination to the story that his song told. It was adventurous and gripping and when he was done, she dropped so many coins into his hat that he grinned at her happily.
Not too far away there was a group dancing. Dancing was Hebe’s passion and she hurried over to watch them. They were pulling random people into their circle to join them and the young brunette made sure she was one of them. The steps weren’t difficult to learn and soon she was leaping and twirling and having the time of her life.
Finally tired, she slipped out of the circle and looked around for a stall that sold refreshments. All that dancing had made her both hungry and thirsty.
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Hebe had arrived at the festival with her family, but they had all separated shortly after they left their carriage. Although her sisters had been allowed to go off on their own for years, this was the first time for the baby of the Antonis clan. She had been required to stay with her parents at all times, though she had often become distracted and wandered away. Today she was accompanied by a guard and a chaperone and was free to explore on her own. Her mother’s forehead had been creased with worry when her youngest waved good-bye and assured her that she would be just fine.
And so Hebe had traipsed away, managing not to trip over the hem of her orange silk chiton. It had been made just for this occasion in a hue that the young girl thought was very harvest-y. It was trimmed in wide bands of purple with golden designs and was held in place and pinned along her arms with fibulae fashioned of gold and amethysts. Her jewelry echoed that color scheme, consisting of a wide golden necklace studded with amethysts and a matching bracelet, earrings and headpiece. A belt made of many tiny golden chains was wrapped around her torso from just below her bosom to right above the curve of her hips, accenting the smallness of her waist. Her sandals were golden too and accented with orange and purple beads.
What shall I do first? A stall selling fine jewelry caught her attention and she went to check out its wares. Noticing how well-dressed she was, the stall owner assisted her himself and Hebe allowed herself to be talked into purchasing a beautiful pearl and diamond necklace with matching accessories. It even included an unusual tiara with strings of dangling pearls as well as decorations for a plain pair of sandals. She probably would have bought the set anyway. Hebe adored pearls but she let the shopkeeper think he was responsible for the sale.
As she left the stall, with her chaperone carrying the box, a group of acrobats tumbled past her and she watched them as they cartwheeled and flipped into the air. I wish I could do that. It must feel like flying. They were so graceful whereas she was clumsy. Had she been born a commoner, she probably wouldn’t have become an acrobat. That didn’t stop her from enjoying their performance. Their daring feats had her gasping in awe.
Until the sweet sound of music lured her away. Following the sound, she came upon a bard who was better than many she had heard at the palace. Pushing to the front of the crowd gathered around him, she listened in fascination to the story that his song told. It was adventurous and gripping and when he was done, she dropped so many coins into his hat that he grinned at her happily.
Not too far away there was a group dancing. Dancing was Hebe’s passion and she hurried over to watch them. They were pulling random people into their circle to join them and the young brunette made sure she was one of them. The steps weren’t difficult to learn and soon she was leaping and twirling and having the time of her life.
Finally tired, she slipped out of the circle and looked around for a stall that sold refreshments. All that dancing had made her both hungry and thirsty.
Hebe had arrived at the festival with her family, but they had all separated shortly after they left their carriage. Although her sisters had been allowed to go off on their own for years, this was the first time for the baby of the Antonis clan. She had been required to stay with her parents at all times, though she had often become distracted and wandered away. Today she was accompanied by a guard and a chaperone and was free to explore on her own. Her mother’s forehead had been creased with worry when her youngest waved good-bye and assured her that she would be just fine.
And so Hebe had traipsed away, managing not to trip over the hem of her orange silk chiton. It had been made just for this occasion in a hue that the young girl thought was very harvest-y. It was trimmed in wide bands of purple with golden designs and was held in place and pinned along her arms with fibulae fashioned of gold and amethysts. Her jewelry echoed that color scheme, consisting of a wide golden necklace studded with amethysts and a matching bracelet, earrings and headpiece. A belt made of many tiny golden chains was wrapped around her torso from just below her bosom to right above the curve of her hips, accenting the smallness of her waist. Her sandals were golden too and accented with orange and purple beads.
What shall I do first? A stall selling fine jewelry caught her attention and she went to check out its wares. Noticing how well-dressed she was, the stall owner assisted her himself and Hebe allowed herself to be talked into purchasing a beautiful pearl and diamond necklace with matching accessories. It even included an unusual tiara with strings of dangling pearls as well as decorations for a plain pair of sandals. She probably would have bought the set anyway. Hebe adored pearls but she let the shopkeeper think he was responsible for the sale.
As she left the stall, with her chaperone carrying the box, a group of acrobats tumbled past her and she watched them as they cartwheeled and flipped into the air. I wish I could do that. It must feel like flying. They were so graceful whereas she was clumsy. Had she been born a commoner, she probably wouldn’t have become an acrobat. That didn’t stop her from enjoying their performance. Their daring feats had her gasping in awe.
Until the sweet sound of music lured her away. Following the sound, she came upon a bard who was better than many she had heard at the palace. Pushing to the front of the crowd gathered around him, she listened in fascination to the story that his song told. It was adventurous and gripping and when he was done, she dropped so many coins into his hat that he grinned at her happily.
Not too far away there was a group dancing. Dancing was Hebe’s passion and she hurried over to watch them. They were pulling random people into their circle to join them and the young brunette made sure she was one of them. The steps weren’t difficult to learn and soon she was leaping and twirling and having the time of her life.
Finally tired, she slipped out of the circle and looked around for a stall that sold refreshments. All that dancing had made her both hungry and thirsty.
Demi had not been eager to return to the capitol, not after her last disastrous trip there. But the girls had wanted to go, one more then the other, and when Hector had bundled up Demi along with the little family, the brunette had not put up much of a fight. At least this time round, Demi would be assured a ride home, and not have to resort to sleeping in stables for a week or more again before luck decided to shine down on her.
Having prayed to the Goddess Athena before their trip, Demi still wore a ring of leaves from the olive tree she had picked from the Goddesses temple itself upon their trip to Athenia. It complimented her pastel blue chiton well, the material falling well to her ankle and the sleeves covering up her arms. Demi rarely wore sleeveless outfits, various marks covering her arms she'd much rather not have to explain, so instead she chose the easier way out.
Intending to enjoy the festival however, the pleasure worker found herself almost anchored by Hector's side as he tried to play helicopter parent to both his girls at once- not a behavior Demi was surprised with, for Hector often did that, but at the same time, it did exasperate her. With the many stalls, scents and colors wafting around, all Demi wanted was to forget the week she had spent under Stravos roof, and instead made new, better memories of her time spent in the capitol. She was eager to look at the flowers, see the food on offer - but Hector would not budge.
It was like her lover had taken it upon himself to care for any young child in Arcana that sashayed their way in front of him, and while Demi didn't dislike it persay, for it was that gallant behavior of Hectors which was what had drawn Demi to him in the first place, it also meant he could never relax when he needed to, which was beginning to feel like a lifelong task for her to do.
Like Hector, Demi watched Hero bound towards the two girls of her lovers, but it was obvious Ismene and Ariadne was fine after the brunette gave a cursory look to them both. Ismene in the companionship of Adrestus, there was, at least to Demi's knowledge, nothing at all to worry about. Afterall Ismene was coming to an age, and while she was certain Hector wanted nothing more then to send them to the temple for the Goddess Artemis for the rest of their lives, Demi was more open minded then that, and wished the girls happiness at least.
Once she saw Ariadne with the crown princess Emilia, of who was protected far more then anyone else at the festival for sure, she finally turned her eyes back on Hector, and raised a daring brow at him when he spoke. "When do you ever like Ismene and Ariadne speaking to anyone but me and Gregor?" Demi dared in return, rolling her eyes before digging her fingers into the arm she held, and tried to drag him towards the other stalls. "Leave them alone, they're big enough to not need our constant attention, Hector." turning to him, she flashed him a big, charming smile, batting her eyelash as she spoke in her attempt to distract him, "Maybe you could get me some flowers? And a drink! Its a hot day."
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Demi had not been eager to return to the capitol, not after her last disastrous trip there. But the girls had wanted to go, one more then the other, and when Hector had bundled up Demi along with the little family, the brunette had not put up much of a fight. At least this time round, Demi would be assured a ride home, and not have to resort to sleeping in stables for a week or more again before luck decided to shine down on her.
Having prayed to the Goddess Athena before their trip, Demi still wore a ring of leaves from the olive tree she had picked from the Goddesses temple itself upon their trip to Athenia. It complimented her pastel blue chiton well, the material falling well to her ankle and the sleeves covering up her arms. Demi rarely wore sleeveless outfits, various marks covering her arms she'd much rather not have to explain, so instead she chose the easier way out.
Intending to enjoy the festival however, the pleasure worker found herself almost anchored by Hector's side as he tried to play helicopter parent to both his girls at once- not a behavior Demi was surprised with, for Hector often did that, but at the same time, it did exasperate her. With the many stalls, scents and colors wafting around, all Demi wanted was to forget the week she had spent under Stravos roof, and instead made new, better memories of her time spent in the capitol. She was eager to look at the flowers, see the food on offer - but Hector would not budge.
It was like her lover had taken it upon himself to care for any young child in Arcana that sashayed their way in front of him, and while Demi didn't dislike it persay, for it was that gallant behavior of Hectors which was what had drawn Demi to him in the first place, it also meant he could never relax when he needed to, which was beginning to feel like a lifelong task for her to do.
Like Hector, Demi watched Hero bound towards the two girls of her lovers, but it was obvious Ismene and Ariadne was fine after the brunette gave a cursory look to them both. Ismene in the companionship of Adrestus, there was, at least to Demi's knowledge, nothing at all to worry about. Afterall Ismene was coming to an age, and while she was certain Hector wanted nothing more then to send them to the temple for the Goddess Artemis for the rest of their lives, Demi was more open minded then that, and wished the girls happiness at least.
Once she saw Ariadne with the crown princess Emilia, of who was protected far more then anyone else at the festival for sure, she finally turned her eyes back on Hector, and raised a daring brow at him when he spoke. "When do you ever like Ismene and Ariadne speaking to anyone but me and Gregor?" Demi dared in return, rolling her eyes before digging her fingers into the arm she held, and tried to drag him towards the other stalls. "Leave them alone, they're big enough to not need our constant attention, Hector." turning to him, she flashed him a big, charming smile, batting her eyelash as she spoke in her attempt to distract him, "Maybe you could get me some flowers? And a drink! Its a hot day."
Demi had not been eager to return to the capitol, not after her last disastrous trip there. But the girls had wanted to go, one more then the other, and when Hector had bundled up Demi along with the little family, the brunette had not put up much of a fight. At least this time round, Demi would be assured a ride home, and not have to resort to sleeping in stables for a week or more again before luck decided to shine down on her.
Having prayed to the Goddess Athena before their trip, Demi still wore a ring of leaves from the olive tree she had picked from the Goddesses temple itself upon their trip to Athenia. It complimented her pastel blue chiton well, the material falling well to her ankle and the sleeves covering up her arms. Demi rarely wore sleeveless outfits, various marks covering her arms she'd much rather not have to explain, so instead she chose the easier way out.
Intending to enjoy the festival however, the pleasure worker found herself almost anchored by Hector's side as he tried to play helicopter parent to both his girls at once- not a behavior Demi was surprised with, for Hector often did that, but at the same time, it did exasperate her. With the many stalls, scents and colors wafting around, all Demi wanted was to forget the week she had spent under Stravos roof, and instead made new, better memories of her time spent in the capitol. She was eager to look at the flowers, see the food on offer - but Hector would not budge.
It was like her lover had taken it upon himself to care for any young child in Arcana that sashayed their way in front of him, and while Demi didn't dislike it persay, for it was that gallant behavior of Hectors which was what had drawn Demi to him in the first place, it also meant he could never relax when he needed to, which was beginning to feel like a lifelong task for her to do.
Like Hector, Demi watched Hero bound towards the two girls of her lovers, but it was obvious Ismene and Ariadne was fine after the brunette gave a cursory look to them both. Ismene in the companionship of Adrestus, there was, at least to Demi's knowledge, nothing at all to worry about. Afterall Ismene was coming to an age, and while she was certain Hector wanted nothing more then to send them to the temple for the Goddess Artemis for the rest of their lives, Demi was more open minded then that, and wished the girls happiness at least.
Once she saw Ariadne with the crown princess Emilia, of who was protected far more then anyone else at the festival for sure, she finally turned her eyes back on Hector, and raised a daring brow at him when he spoke. "When do you ever like Ismene and Ariadne speaking to anyone but me and Gregor?" Demi dared in return, rolling her eyes before digging her fingers into the arm she held, and tried to drag him towards the other stalls. "Leave them alone, they're big enough to not need our constant attention, Hector." turning to him, she flashed him a big, charming smile, batting her eyelash as she spoke in her attempt to distract him, "Maybe you could get me some flowers? And a drink! Its a hot day."