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He had been staring at the map of Egypt for a long time. Laid out across the grand expanse of the table in the War Room, it depicted the lands that Achilleas would be returning to before too long, a decision that he had come to over the past days with those other military minds of Taengea. Upon the table were tiny carved boats that represented those being readied on the southern shore, and Achilleas reached down to nudge one with his finger, forwards across the ocean and then to northern beaches of Egypt.
It was there that he and the small collective of his forces would make land and attempt to destroy the ships their enemies were purportedly destined to sail for Teangea’s shores. The intelligence was reliable. The wheels were all in motion. It was a good plan.
But still the newly appointed King had stood over the table for hours, imagining and reimagining different scenarios, plotting different courses for different wind conditions,taking on board the views of his advisors and putting forward his own. He had dismissed them all a while ago, needing a little space for his own thoughts. Now, the man rolled his neck to stretch out the kinks formed by so long looking down, blew out a breath and placed the little ship back with its sisters.
He was running on that nervous kind of energy that had not seemed to dissipate since the wedding, that kept him awake and jittery but without any substance to it. He wondered when it would pass. There had been so much to do already; a burial for his father that had come and gone like the tide, with barely a pause before it was on to the next thing, to addressing this threat of war that had suddenly become tangible and real.
And whilst talk of war was no new thing to Achilleas, it was different, he realised , to be the one that everyone looked to for a final decision. Used to having his cousin to confer with on such matters, and to his father’s undeniable might and foresight leading them, the new King found himself anxious to ensure he missed nothing. If they were to fail in this then it would not be due to negligence on his part, he would make sure of that.
A knock on the heavy wooden door had him look over in surprise, and Achilleas raised an eyebrow when it was the familiar face of his own retainer, Petros, who disturbed him. “Do not look like I have interrupted some great philosophising, your majesty. I doubt you can lay claim to any new revelations after staring at the map for so long. Your brother is here” the grey haired man said dryly, before stepping aside to allow the younger of the Mikaelidas brothers to pass. He had been attached to the family for as long as the both men could remember, and was like an old piece of furniture now. One that was uncommonly impertinent and knew them both too well.
"Your confidence in me is, as usual, comforting, Petros" Achilleas replied, before looking to his younger brother.He was glad to see Emilios, would value his brother’s input in this again, but he had not been expecting him, and for a moment his brow creased in in concern as he considered that it was ill-news that had brought his sibling to the palati. As if they needed any more of that.
“Is all well? How is Mother?”
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He had been staring at the map of Egypt for a long time. Laid out across the grand expanse of the table in the War Room, it depicted the lands that Achilleas would be returning to before too long, a decision that he had come to over the past days with those other military minds of Taengea. Upon the table were tiny carved boats that represented those being readied on the southern shore, and Achilleas reached down to nudge one with his finger, forwards across the ocean and then to northern beaches of Egypt.
It was there that he and the small collective of his forces would make land and attempt to destroy the ships their enemies were purportedly destined to sail for Teangea’s shores. The intelligence was reliable. The wheels were all in motion. It was a good plan.
But still the newly appointed King had stood over the table for hours, imagining and reimagining different scenarios, plotting different courses for different wind conditions,taking on board the views of his advisors and putting forward his own. He had dismissed them all a while ago, needing a little space for his own thoughts. Now, the man rolled his neck to stretch out the kinks formed by so long looking down, blew out a breath and placed the little ship back with its sisters.
He was running on that nervous kind of energy that had not seemed to dissipate since the wedding, that kept him awake and jittery but without any substance to it. He wondered when it would pass. There had been so much to do already; a burial for his father that had come and gone like the tide, with barely a pause before it was on to the next thing, to addressing this threat of war that had suddenly become tangible and real.
And whilst talk of war was no new thing to Achilleas, it was different, he realised , to be the one that everyone looked to for a final decision. Used to having his cousin to confer with on such matters, and to his father’s undeniable might and foresight leading them, the new King found himself anxious to ensure he missed nothing. If they were to fail in this then it would not be due to negligence on his part, he would make sure of that.
A knock on the heavy wooden door had him look over in surprise, and Achilleas raised an eyebrow when it was the familiar face of his own retainer, Petros, who disturbed him. “Do not look like I have interrupted some great philosophising, your majesty. I doubt you can lay claim to any new revelations after staring at the map for so long. Your brother is here” the grey haired man said dryly, before stepping aside to allow the younger of the Mikaelidas brothers to pass. He had been attached to the family for as long as the both men could remember, and was like an old piece of furniture now. One that was uncommonly impertinent and knew them both too well.
"Your confidence in me is, as usual, comforting, Petros" Achilleas replied, before looking to his younger brother.He was glad to see Emilios, would value his brother’s input in this again, but he had not been expecting him, and for a moment his brow creased in in concern as he considered that it was ill-news that had brought his sibling to the palati. As if they needed any more of that.
“Is all well? How is Mother?”
He had been staring at the map of Egypt for a long time. Laid out across the grand expanse of the table in the War Room, it depicted the lands that Achilleas would be returning to before too long, a decision that he had come to over the past days with those other military minds of Taengea. Upon the table were tiny carved boats that represented those being readied on the southern shore, and Achilleas reached down to nudge one with his finger, forwards across the ocean and then to northern beaches of Egypt.
It was there that he and the small collective of his forces would make land and attempt to destroy the ships their enemies were purportedly destined to sail for Teangea’s shores. The intelligence was reliable. The wheels were all in motion. It was a good plan.
But still the newly appointed King had stood over the table for hours, imagining and reimagining different scenarios, plotting different courses for different wind conditions,taking on board the views of his advisors and putting forward his own. He had dismissed them all a while ago, needing a little space for his own thoughts. Now, the man rolled his neck to stretch out the kinks formed by so long looking down, blew out a breath and placed the little ship back with its sisters.
He was running on that nervous kind of energy that had not seemed to dissipate since the wedding, that kept him awake and jittery but without any substance to it. He wondered when it would pass. There had been so much to do already; a burial for his father that had come and gone like the tide, with barely a pause before it was on to the next thing, to addressing this threat of war that had suddenly become tangible and real.
And whilst talk of war was no new thing to Achilleas, it was different, he realised , to be the one that everyone looked to for a final decision. Used to having his cousin to confer with on such matters, and to his father’s undeniable might and foresight leading them, the new King found himself anxious to ensure he missed nothing. If they were to fail in this then it would not be due to negligence on his part, he would make sure of that.
A knock on the heavy wooden door had him look over in surprise, and Achilleas raised an eyebrow when it was the familiar face of his own retainer, Petros, who disturbed him. “Do not look like I have interrupted some great philosophising, your majesty. I doubt you can lay claim to any new revelations after staring at the map for so long. Your brother is here” the grey haired man said dryly, before stepping aside to allow the younger of the Mikaelidas brothers to pass. He had been attached to the family for as long as the both men could remember, and was like an old piece of furniture now. One that was uncommonly impertinent and knew them both too well.
"Your confidence in me is, as usual, comforting, Petros" Achilleas replied, before looking to his younger brother.He was glad to see Emilios, would value his brother’s input in this again, but he had not been expecting him, and for a moment his brow creased in in concern as he considered that it was ill-news that had brought his sibling to the palati. As if they needed any more of that.
“Is all well? How is Mother?”
He had no one to blame but himself, and he knew that.
After all, if he had been the more responsible child his father always wished him to be, then he may not have found himself at the mercy of the Leventi head. Perhaps, if he had proven to his father that he could handle the job that would end up at his feet, he may not have needed to add the provision to put someone he trusted in the position. For wasn’t that the point-- he wanted to make sure he left his family name to someone able to handle the mantle? And instead of Achilleas, who would have been a perfect head, he ended up with the second son.
The joke.
Gods, it was like history was repeating itself.
He thought about destroying the office all over again. Tearing it apart until there was nothing left seemed like a good way to take out his anger at something that had belonged to his father. Instead, he’d spent a few hours with a bow in his hand, shooting until the tips of his fingers bled through the callouses. And still, it did not help. It only took him back to the hours spent here with Theo.
There was little he could do about any of this now. If they were to handle this new interference within their own house, he decided, they needed to do it together. There was no one else to do it, no way for them to pretend it wasn’t happening. Sure, it was less important than the war at hand, but Emilios wanted to get his brother’s opinion on it. There was little doubt that it wouldn’t surprise him. The younger brother hadn’t done anything to prove his ability, so it only made sense that his father didn’t think he was capable. The only one who ever believed in his ability was his brother. Perhaps it would be better to have the man wholly on his side. He did not wish to end up with a two front war.
So while he knew his brother would be busy, he also knew that he’d already put off the news too long. If his brother hadn’t seen a copy of the will, he would now.
Dressed simply in riding pants and a black tunic, Emilios made his way through the palati, a place that had been almost like home when it was the residence of his cousins. How often did he wander these same halls, in search of something completely different? It felt strange that this belonged to his brother, but at least it was still in the family.
He didn’t have to wait long to be announced, walking into the room with the tome of the will in hand as well as a somber look on his face. The moment his brother saw him, it appeared the King turned somber to. It was his worried comment about their mother that made his stoic face turn into one of exasperation. ”Is the only time you think I come to see you means I have bad news? I hand you a crown once and suddenly I'm Hades himself…” He trailed off, moving to join him at the large map table in front of them. ”Good to see you, too, brother.”
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He had no one to blame but himself, and he knew that.
After all, if he had been the more responsible child his father always wished him to be, then he may not have found himself at the mercy of the Leventi head. Perhaps, if he had proven to his father that he could handle the job that would end up at his feet, he may not have needed to add the provision to put someone he trusted in the position. For wasn’t that the point-- he wanted to make sure he left his family name to someone able to handle the mantle? And instead of Achilleas, who would have been a perfect head, he ended up with the second son.
The joke.
Gods, it was like history was repeating itself.
He thought about destroying the office all over again. Tearing it apart until there was nothing left seemed like a good way to take out his anger at something that had belonged to his father. Instead, he’d spent a few hours with a bow in his hand, shooting until the tips of his fingers bled through the callouses. And still, it did not help. It only took him back to the hours spent here with Theo.
There was little he could do about any of this now. If they were to handle this new interference within their own house, he decided, they needed to do it together. There was no one else to do it, no way for them to pretend it wasn’t happening. Sure, it was less important than the war at hand, but Emilios wanted to get his brother’s opinion on it. There was little doubt that it wouldn’t surprise him. The younger brother hadn’t done anything to prove his ability, so it only made sense that his father didn’t think he was capable. The only one who ever believed in his ability was his brother. Perhaps it would be better to have the man wholly on his side. He did not wish to end up with a two front war.
So while he knew his brother would be busy, he also knew that he’d already put off the news too long. If his brother hadn’t seen a copy of the will, he would now.
Dressed simply in riding pants and a black tunic, Emilios made his way through the palati, a place that had been almost like home when it was the residence of his cousins. How often did he wander these same halls, in search of something completely different? It felt strange that this belonged to his brother, but at least it was still in the family.
He didn’t have to wait long to be announced, walking into the room with the tome of the will in hand as well as a somber look on his face. The moment his brother saw him, it appeared the King turned somber to. It was his worried comment about their mother that made his stoic face turn into one of exasperation. ”Is the only time you think I come to see you means I have bad news? I hand you a crown once and suddenly I'm Hades himself…” He trailed off, moving to join him at the large map table in front of them. ”Good to see you, too, brother.”
He had no one to blame but himself, and he knew that.
After all, if he had been the more responsible child his father always wished him to be, then he may not have found himself at the mercy of the Leventi head. Perhaps, if he had proven to his father that he could handle the job that would end up at his feet, he may not have needed to add the provision to put someone he trusted in the position. For wasn’t that the point-- he wanted to make sure he left his family name to someone able to handle the mantle? And instead of Achilleas, who would have been a perfect head, he ended up with the second son.
The joke.
Gods, it was like history was repeating itself.
He thought about destroying the office all over again. Tearing it apart until there was nothing left seemed like a good way to take out his anger at something that had belonged to his father. Instead, he’d spent a few hours with a bow in his hand, shooting until the tips of his fingers bled through the callouses. And still, it did not help. It only took him back to the hours spent here with Theo.
There was little he could do about any of this now. If they were to handle this new interference within their own house, he decided, they needed to do it together. There was no one else to do it, no way for them to pretend it wasn’t happening. Sure, it was less important than the war at hand, but Emilios wanted to get his brother’s opinion on it. There was little doubt that it wouldn’t surprise him. The younger brother hadn’t done anything to prove his ability, so it only made sense that his father didn’t think he was capable. The only one who ever believed in his ability was his brother. Perhaps it would be better to have the man wholly on his side. He did not wish to end up with a two front war.
So while he knew his brother would be busy, he also knew that he’d already put off the news too long. If his brother hadn’t seen a copy of the will, he would now.
Dressed simply in riding pants and a black tunic, Emilios made his way through the palati, a place that had been almost like home when it was the residence of his cousins. How often did he wander these same halls, in search of something completely different? It felt strange that this belonged to his brother, but at least it was still in the family.
He didn’t have to wait long to be announced, walking into the room with the tome of the will in hand as well as a somber look on his face. The moment his brother saw him, it appeared the King turned somber to. It was his worried comment about their mother that made his stoic face turn into one of exasperation. ”Is the only time you think I come to see you means I have bad news? I hand you a crown once and suddenly I'm Hades himself…” He trailed off, moving to join him at the large map table in front of them. ”Good to see you, too, brother.”
”Is the only time you think I come to see you means I have bad news? I hand you a crown once and suddenly I'm Hades himself…Good to see you too brother”
Achilleas blinked, realised belatedly that perhaps his reaction had been a little...doom-filled, but then who could blame him? And he was quiet for a beat as he enjoyed that unwanted reminder of the moment Emilios had passed that crown to him, said the words that had shifted the world sideways. Who could blame him indeed?
“Forgive me, Emilios,” he said dryly in the next. “Send a messenger ahead next time and shall ready a more enthusiastic response for you” But there was no bite to the sarcasm, and already the new King had begun to cross over toward his younger brother, embracing him briefly when he drew level before pulling back.
Achilleas, though perfectly put together as always, looked weary. There was a slight smudge of shadow beneath the blue eyes, and his hair had fallen into disarray that suggested he had run his hands through it numerous times throughout the day. Which he had. It was no wonder, surely, given everything that had been thrown at him in the past days, and whilst the man’s shoulders were undoubtedly broad, it did not mean he was immune from feeling the weight set upon them. Rather the opposite truth be told.
“I wasn’t expecting you?” Achilleas prompted, more restrained than his first greeting, but still, he was looking at Emilios’ with more than just idle curiosity in his gaze. There had been scarce a moment for the brothers to regroup since the events at the wedding had seen the subsequent days a route march of responsibilities and reactions for both older and younger.
For Emilios, the might and management of House Mikaelidas now lay in his hands, and had he been gifted any time to think upon it, then Achilleas might have been more concerned for his brother, for it was all relatively new for the younger of Irakles’s sons. But the elder found his hands full with a different kind of responsibility again, and so beyond the necessary communications concerning their father’s burial and the councils of war, there had been very little actual conversation between them.
Maybe now was a chance to remedy that.
Glancing up, Achilleas was about ask that Petros saw to some refreshments, but the man had already left and the King’s lips pressed together in a rare moment of displeasure with his retainer. Thankfully, he did not comment aloud upon it, for then he would have felt more than sheepish when the servant girl appeared in the next bearing wine and a platter of fruits and cheese.
He had missed dinner again Achilleas realised with a jolt, as he was struck with a sudden pang of hunger. Surprised that the day had run away with him so easily, he sighed, before gesturing his brother to sit. The room they were in was hardly the most resplendent and welcoming within the Palati, but Achilleas did not think either of them cared, and he folded into a chair with an unpolished slouch that spoke of his comfort with the man before him.
“How fares the new Head of House Mikaelidas, then?"
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”Is the only time you think I come to see you means I have bad news? I hand you a crown once and suddenly I'm Hades himself…Good to see you too brother”
Achilleas blinked, realised belatedly that perhaps his reaction had been a little...doom-filled, but then who could blame him? And he was quiet for a beat as he enjoyed that unwanted reminder of the moment Emilios had passed that crown to him, said the words that had shifted the world sideways. Who could blame him indeed?
“Forgive me, Emilios,” he said dryly in the next. “Send a messenger ahead next time and shall ready a more enthusiastic response for you” But there was no bite to the sarcasm, and already the new King had begun to cross over toward his younger brother, embracing him briefly when he drew level before pulling back.
Achilleas, though perfectly put together as always, looked weary. There was a slight smudge of shadow beneath the blue eyes, and his hair had fallen into disarray that suggested he had run his hands through it numerous times throughout the day. Which he had. It was no wonder, surely, given everything that had been thrown at him in the past days, and whilst the man’s shoulders were undoubtedly broad, it did not mean he was immune from feeling the weight set upon them. Rather the opposite truth be told.
“I wasn’t expecting you?” Achilleas prompted, more restrained than his first greeting, but still, he was looking at Emilios’ with more than just idle curiosity in his gaze. There had been scarce a moment for the brothers to regroup since the events at the wedding had seen the subsequent days a route march of responsibilities and reactions for both older and younger.
For Emilios, the might and management of House Mikaelidas now lay in his hands, and had he been gifted any time to think upon it, then Achilleas might have been more concerned for his brother, for it was all relatively new for the younger of Irakles’s sons. But the elder found his hands full with a different kind of responsibility again, and so beyond the necessary communications concerning their father’s burial and the councils of war, there had been very little actual conversation between them.
Maybe now was a chance to remedy that.
Glancing up, Achilleas was about ask that Petros saw to some refreshments, but the man had already left and the King’s lips pressed together in a rare moment of displeasure with his retainer. Thankfully, he did not comment aloud upon it, for then he would have felt more than sheepish when the servant girl appeared in the next bearing wine and a platter of fruits and cheese.
He had missed dinner again Achilleas realised with a jolt, as he was struck with a sudden pang of hunger. Surprised that the day had run away with him so easily, he sighed, before gesturing his brother to sit. The room they were in was hardly the most resplendent and welcoming within the Palati, but Achilleas did not think either of them cared, and he folded into a chair with an unpolished slouch that spoke of his comfort with the man before him.
“How fares the new Head of House Mikaelidas, then?"
”Is the only time you think I come to see you means I have bad news? I hand you a crown once and suddenly I'm Hades himself…Good to see you too brother”
Achilleas blinked, realised belatedly that perhaps his reaction had been a little...doom-filled, but then who could blame him? And he was quiet for a beat as he enjoyed that unwanted reminder of the moment Emilios had passed that crown to him, said the words that had shifted the world sideways. Who could blame him indeed?
“Forgive me, Emilios,” he said dryly in the next. “Send a messenger ahead next time and shall ready a more enthusiastic response for you” But there was no bite to the sarcasm, and already the new King had begun to cross over toward his younger brother, embracing him briefly when he drew level before pulling back.
Achilleas, though perfectly put together as always, looked weary. There was a slight smudge of shadow beneath the blue eyes, and his hair had fallen into disarray that suggested he had run his hands through it numerous times throughout the day. Which he had. It was no wonder, surely, given everything that had been thrown at him in the past days, and whilst the man’s shoulders were undoubtedly broad, it did not mean he was immune from feeling the weight set upon them. Rather the opposite truth be told.
“I wasn’t expecting you?” Achilleas prompted, more restrained than his first greeting, but still, he was looking at Emilios’ with more than just idle curiosity in his gaze. There had been scarce a moment for the brothers to regroup since the events at the wedding had seen the subsequent days a route march of responsibilities and reactions for both older and younger.
For Emilios, the might and management of House Mikaelidas now lay in his hands, and had he been gifted any time to think upon it, then Achilleas might have been more concerned for his brother, for it was all relatively new for the younger of Irakles’s sons. But the elder found his hands full with a different kind of responsibility again, and so beyond the necessary communications concerning their father’s burial and the councils of war, there had been very little actual conversation between them.
Maybe now was a chance to remedy that.
Glancing up, Achilleas was about ask that Petros saw to some refreshments, but the man had already left and the King’s lips pressed together in a rare moment of displeasure with his retainer. Thankfully, he did not comment aloud upon it, for then he would have felt more than sheepish when the servant girl appeared in the next bearing wine and a platter of fruits and cheese.
He had missed dinner again Achilleas realised with a jolt, as he was struck with a sudden pang of hunger. Surprised that the day had run away with him so easily, he sighed, before gesturing his brother to sit. The room they were in was hardly the most resplendent and welcoming within the Palati, but Achilleas did not think either of them cared, and he folded into a chair with an unpolished slouch that spoke of his comfort with the man before him.
“How fares the new Head of House Mikaelidas, then?"
It was odd to see his brother out of sorts like this. He was usually so put together, so prepared for whatever life put in his path that seeming him as flustered as he was bothered him more than he thought it would. There was a part of Emilios that wanted to gloat silently about this, because Achilleas was always perfect and put together. So why did he feel so much empathy for them man? Perhaps it was simply because he didn’t feel like he had himself any more together than his brother.
If anything, he felt far more stressed after his recent meeting with Fotios.
”I did send a letter.” He said, pointing out the missive that sat next to the maps, unopened. Being offended by his brother’s neglect of the letter felt silly, so Emilios waved it off. ”It didn’t say anything important. Just that I had news to tell you.” There was no resistance as he accepted the embrace, unable to deny the joy that came from the brotherly comfort of his older monarch. It was not as if they had lived in the same house for a long time, but with the death of their father, it was apparent that they needed to band together. Even without knowing the news, he wanted his brother to know that they were in this together.
Emilios took a moment to look at the maps on the table, knowing the plans for Egypt were well underway. He had seen a few documents cross his desk (already countersigned by Fotios) for supplies and finances to assist in the efforts. He was quick to realize that he wouldn’t be going along, not as the crown prince and heir. And with what he knew of the present situation, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go anyway. Not if there was the chance that both could perish and then the Leventi would become the King
Not as long as he could stop it.
He followed his brother towards the seating area, a little taken back by the simple idea of the two of them where they were now. Their own ambitions had always been limited to being good military men-- soldiers who were in charge of men and able to fight and die for the cause. They had never pictured themselves on the throne, not with two heirs ahead of them. But just like that, Achilleas was now King and Emilios was the heir to it all. It was a little unsettling, how rapidly the crown could change hands. Even more so was the notion that their father had put this into motion to allow it to happen.
As much as he wished to pretend like it never happened, there was a kingdom to manage. And he was set on being a reliable man for his brother. Perhaps that would make up for the betrayal that loomed in the distance.
Emilios poured a glass of wine, relaxing into the seat like his brother. ”Oh, you know-- just picking up the pieces that Father left behind. When did you last see father’s will? Did you know he made changes to it recently?” He asked, mirth in his eyes but voice deadpanned.
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It was odd to see his brother out of sorts like this. He was usually so put together, so prepared for whatever life put in his path that seeming him as flustered as he was bothered him more than he thought it would. There was a part of Emilios that wanted to gloat silently about this, because Achilleas was always perfect and put together. So why did he feel so much empathy for them man? Perhaps it was simply because he didn’t feel like he had himself any more together than his brother.
If anything, he felt far more stressed after his recent meeting with Fotios.
”I did send a letter.” He said, pointing out the missive that sat next to the maps, unopened. Being offended by his brother’s neglect of the letter felt silly, so Emilios waved it off. ”It didn’t say anything important. Just that I had news to tell you.” There was no resistance as he accepted the embrace, unable to deny the joy that came from the brotherly comfort of his older monarch. It was not as if they had lived in the same house for a long time, but with the death of their father, it was apparent that they needed to band together. Even without knowing the news, he wanted his brother to know that they were in this together.
Emilios took a moment to look at the maps on the table, knowing the plans for Egypt were well underway. He had seen a few documents cross his desk (already countersigned by Fotios) for supplies and finances to assist in the efforts. He was quick to realize that he wouldn’t be going along, not as the crown prince and heir. And with what he knew of the present situation, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go anyway. Not if there was the chance that both could perish and then the Leventi would become the King
Not as long as he could stop it.
He followed his brother towards the seating area, a little taken back by the simple idea of the two of them where they were now. Their own ambitions had always been limited to being good military men-- soldiers who were in charge of men and able to fight and die for the cause. They had never pictured themselves on the throne, not with two heirs ahead of them. But just like that, Achilleas was now King and Emilios was the heir to it all. It was a little unsettling, how rapidly the crown could change hands. Even more so was the notion that their father had put this into motion to allow it to happen.
As much as he wished to pretend like it never happened, there was a kingdom to manage. And he was set on being a reliable man for his brother. Perhaps that would make up for the betrayal that loomed in the distance.
Emilios poured a glass of wine, relaxing into the seat like his brother. ”Oh, you know-- just picking up the pieces that Father left behind. When did you last see father’s will? Did you know he made changes to it recently?” He asked, mirth in his eyes but voice deadpanned.
It was odd to see his brother out of sorts like this. He was usually so put together, so prepared for whatever life put in his path that seeming him as flustered as he was bothered him more than he thought it would. There was a part of Emilios that wanted to gloat silently about this, because Achilleas was always perfect and put together. So why did he feel so much empathy for them man? Perhaps it was simply because he didn’t feel like he had himself any more together than his brother.
If anything, he felt far more stressed after his recent meeting with Fotios.
”I did send a letter.” He said, pointing out the missive that sat next to the maps, unopened. Being offended by his brother’s neglect of the letter felt silly, so Emilios waved it off. ”It didn’t say anything important. Just that I had news to tell you.” There was no resistance as he accepted the embrace, unable to deny the joy that came from the brotherly comfort of his older monarch. It was not as if they had lived in the same house for a long time, but with the death of their father, it was apparent that they needed to band together. Even without knowing the news, he wanted his brother to know that they were in this together.
Emilios took a moment to look at the maps on the table, knowing the plans for Egypt were well underway. He had seen a few documents cross his desk (already countersigned by Fotios) for supplies and finances to assist in the efforts. He was quick to realize that he wouldn’t be going along, not as the crown prince and heir. And with what he knew of the present situation, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go anyway. Not if there was the chance that both could perish and then the Leventi would become the King
Not as long as he could stop it.
He followed his brother towards the seating area, a little taken back by the simple idea of the two of them where they were now. Their own ambitions had always been limited to being good military men-- soldiers who were in charge of men and able to fight and die for the cause. They had never pictured themselves on the throne, not with two heirs ahead of them. But just like that, Achilleas was now King and Emilios was the heir to it all. It was a little unsettling, how rapidly the crown could change hands. Even more so was the notion that their father had put this into motion to allow it to happen.
As much as he wished to pretend like it never happened, there was a kingdom to manage. And he was set on being a reliable man for his brother. Perhaps that would make up for the betrayal that loomed in the distance.
Emilios poured a glass of wine, relaxing into the seat like his brother. ”Oh, you know-- just picking up the pieces that Father left behind. When did you last see father’s will? Did you know he made changes to it recently?” He asked, mirth in his eyes but voice deadpanned.
Achilleas had followed Emilios’ gaze to an unopened missive -one amongst many- and he frowned, wondered how long it had been sitting there for. "Oh" He had perhaps been a little singular in his focus. “...well then” He took a moment to flick through the others in case there was anything else he had missed, but set them down again in the next moment. After his brother had gone, he would address them then.
The brother whose letter he’d entirely disregarded, but there was nothing to be done about it, so he just gave Emilios a sheepish look before moving over to sit. And when he had, Achilleas reached forward to pick up a fig from the platter, crumbling a little of the sharp cheese over the sweet flesh before shoving the whole lot in his mouth rather ungraciously. His appetite had been unpredictable since the wedding, meaning his eating patterns were off. It was a bit of a novelty to be hungry again, and so he seized the moment.
As he listened to Emilios, it was difficult not to roll his eyes as the younger of the brothers spoke of picking up the pieces. He had been doing the very same thing, if not on a slightly grander scale. Half planned coronations, hastily thrown together invasion forces, trying to make sense of whatever plans his father had been enacting. He could well imagine what Emilios had been dealing with. But as the man went on, Achilleas’ exasperated commiseration turned to something more guarded, and he swallowed, reached for a cup of watered wine. It was a leading question his brother asked if ever he had heard one.
The burial had been only two days before, and there had barely been a moment for the new King to turn thought towards such matters. It was not his role to deal with such things now, anyway. That responsibility lay surely in the hands of Emilios. And Achilleas found himself a little unprepared to speak about their father and his dying wishes. It was all so new still, seemed unreal somehow. He blew out a long slow breath and tipped the cup in his hand so the wine rushed toward the edge and threatened to spill before he righted it and repeated the motion again.
“No” Achilleas answered after a moment’s pause.. “There would have been no need for me to see it” He took a sip and did not take anything else to eat, because his focus was intent now on his younger sibling. If this were the news that had brought Emilios to the palati, then it must be of some import, and it was difficult to suppress the uneasiness that such a thought brought along with it. There should be nothing of note in their father’s will. And yet Achilleas could not deny how typical it would be of the man to keep throwing into disarray even after he had crossed the river. “What changes, Emilios?”
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Achilleas had followed Emilios’ gaze to an unopened missive -one amongst many- and he frowned, wondered how long it had been sitting there for. "Oh" He had perhaps been a little singular in his focus. “...well then” He took a moment to flick through the others in case there was anything else he had missed, but set them down again in the next moment. After his brother had gone, he would address them then.
The brother whose letter he’d entirely disregarded, but there was nothing to be done about it, so he just gave Emilios a sheepish look before moving over to sit. And when he had, Achilleas reached forward to pick up a fig from the platter, crumbling a little of the sharp cheese over the sweet flesh before shoving the whole lot in his mouth rather ungraciously. His appetite had been unpredictable since the wedding, meaning his eating patterns were off. It was a bit of a novelty to be hungry again, and so he seized the moment.
As he listened to Emilios, it was difficult not to roll his eyes as the younger of the brothers spoke of picking up the pieces. He had been doing the very same thing, if not on a slightly grander scale. Half planned coronations, hastily thrown together invasion forces, trying to make sense of whatever plans his father had been enacting. He could well imagine what Emilios had been dealing with. But as the man went on, Achilleas’ exasperated commiseration turned to something more guarded, and he swallowed, reached for a cup of watered wine. It was a leading question his brother asked if ever he had heard one.
The burial had been only two days before, and there had barely been a moment for the new King to turn thought towards such matters. It was not his role to deal with such things now, anyway. That responsibility lay surely in the hands of Emilios. And Achilleas found himself a little unprepared to speak about their father and his dying wishes. It was all so new still, seemed unreal somehow. He blew out a long slow breath and tipped the cup in his hand so the wine rushed toward the edge and threatened to spill before he righted it and repeated the motion again.
“No” Achilleas answered after a moment’s pause.. “There would have been no need for me to see it” He took a sip and did not take anything else to eat, because his focus was intent now on his younger sibling. If this were the news that had brought Emilios to the palati, then it must be of some import, and it was difficult to suppress the uneasiness that such a thought brought along with it. There should be nothing of note in their father’s will. And yet Achilleas could not deny how typical it would be of the man to keep throwing into disarray even after he had crossed the river. “What changes, Emilios?”
Achilleas had followed Emilios’ gaze to an unopened missive -one amongst many- and he frowned, wondered how long it had been sitting there for. "Oh" He had perhaps been a little singular in his focus. “...well then” He took a moment to flick through the others in case there was anything else he had missed, but set them down again in the next moment. After his brother had gone, he would address them then.
The brother whose letter he’d entirely disregarded, but there was nothing to be done about it, so he just gave Emilios a sheepish look before moving over to sit. And when he had, Achilleas reached forward to pick up a fig from the platter, crumbling a little of the sharp cheese over the sweet flesh before shoving the whole lot in his mouth rather ungraciously. His appetite had been unpredictable since the wedding, meaning his eating patterns were off. It was a bit of a novelty to be hungry again, and so he seized the moment.
As he listened to Emilios, it was difficult not to roll his eyes as the younger of the brothers spoke of picking up the pieces. He had been doing the very same thing, if not on a slightly grander scale. Half planned coronations, hastily thrown together invasion forces, trying to make sense of whatever plans his father had been enacting. He could well imagine what Emilios had been dealing with. But as the man went on, Achilleas’ exasperated commiseration turned to something more guarded, and he swallowed, reached for a cup of watered wine. It was a leading question his brother asked if ever he had heard one.
The burial had been only two days before, and there had barely been a moment for the new King to turn thought towards such matters. It was not his role to deal with such things now, anyway. That responsibility lay surely in the hands of Emilios. And Achilleas found himself a little unprepared to speak about their father and his dying wishes. It was all so new still, seemed unreal somehow. He blew out a long slow breath and tipped the cup in his hand so the wine rushed toward the edge and threatened to spill before he righted it and repeated the motion again.
“No” Achilleas answered after a moment’s pause.. “There would have been no need for me to see it” He took a sip and did not take anything else to eat, because his focus was intent now on his younger sibling. If this were the news that had brought Emilios to the palati, then it must be of some import, and it was difficult to suppress the uneasiness that such a thought brought along with it. There should be nothing of note in their father’s will. And yet Achilleas could not deny how typical it would be of the man to keep throwing into disarray even after he had crossed the river. “What changes, Emilios?”
There was such a desire for things to go back to the way they had been before the circus, because that had been when he had been his happiest. He had just promised Theo that he was coming back to marry her, was in a good place with his brother and was ready to start a new beginning. It was simpler than before they found themselves headlong into politics that neither thought they would be a part of. Political ambitions had found them and forced them into roles neither wanted. How could he be mad at his brother for the actions of his father.
Jealous, maybe. But not truly mad.
Things were so different that he barely had time to breathe. And he didn’t think he wanted to think about it any more than he already had. If he did, he would regret every action he had made since returning, since the circus.
He had wished that his brother had seen it, or that their father had done something in his power to show it to the eldest son. Perhaps, if he had known about it, it wouldn’t have felt like such a stab in the back, at least. Or maybe he would have been angry that he hadn’t been prepared. Maybe he thought that Achilleas would be the one taking over, thus would have told him of it. Instead, he was about to share something that was news to both of them.
”Oh. Well, I guess I don’t feel quite as bad now.” He pulled the folded parchment out of a pocket, handing it over to him. The copy had been made himself, for he hadn’t wanted to miss a word of the document at all. ”It seems that Father felt that it was in the best interest of the family to put one Fotios of Leventi in charge of any decisions that I would be in the position to make as the head of the Mikaelidas house.” Emilios allowed his brother a moment to read the details listed out, letting the shock settle in like it had for him. ”Anything that I wish to do in an official capacity shall require a countersignature to be considered legal.”
He took a deep drink of his wine, unable to say more as the silence settled over them.
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There was such a desire for things to go back to the way they had been before the circus, because that had been when he had been his happiest. He had just promised Theo that he was coming back to marry her, was in a good place with his brother and was ready to start a new beginning. It was simpler than before they found themselves headlong into politics that neither thought they would be a part of. Political ambitions had found them and forced them into roles neither wanted. How could he be mad at his brother for the actions of his father.
Jealous, maybe. But not truly mad.
Things were so different that he barely had time to breathe. And he didn’t think he wanted to think about it any more than he already had. If he did, he would regret every action he had made since returning, since the circus.
He had wished that his brother had seen it, or that their father had done something in his power to show it to the eldest son. Perhaps, if he had known about it, it wouldn’t have felt like such a stab in the back, at least. Or maybe he would have been angry that he hadn’t been prepared. Maybe he thought that Achilleas would be the one taking over, thus would have told him of it. Instead, he was about to share something that was news to both of them.
”Oh. Well, I guess I don’t feel quite as bad now.” He pulled the folded parchment out of a pocket, handing it over to him. The copy had been made himself, for he hadn’t wanted to miss a word of the document at all. ”It seems that Father felt that it was in the best interest of the family to put one Fotios of Leventi in charge of any decisions that I would be in the position to make as the head of the Mikaelidas house.” Emilios allowed his brother a moment to read the details listed out, letting the shock settle in like it had for him. ”Anything that I wish to do in an official capacity shall require a countersignature to be considered legal.”
He took a deep drink of his wine, unable to say more as the silence settled over them.
There was such a desire for things to go back to the way they had been before the circus, because that had been when he had been his happiest. He had just promised Theo that he was coming back to marry her, was in a good place with his brother and was ready to start a new beginning. It was simpler than before they found themselves headlong into politics that neither thought they would be a part of. Political ambitions had found them and forced them into roles neither wanted. How could he be mad at his brother for the actions of his father.
Jealous, maybe. But not truly mad.
Things were so different that he barely had time to breathe. And he didn’t think he wanted to think about it any more than he already had. If he did, he would regret every action he had made since returning, since the circus.
He had wished that his brother had seen it, or that their father had done something in his power to show it to the eldest son. Perhaps, if he had known about it, it wouldn’t have felt like such a stab in the back, at least. Or maybe he would have been angry that he hadn’t been prepared. Maybe he thought that Achilleas would be the one taking over, thus would have told him of it. Instead, he was about to share something that was news to both of them.
”Oh. Well, I guess I don’t feel quite as bad now.” He pulled the folded parchment out of a pocket, handing it over to him. The copy had been made himself, for he hadn’t wanted to miss a word of the document at all. ”It seems that Father felt that it was in the best interest of the family to put one Fotios of Leventi in charge of any decisions that I would be in the position to make as the head of the Mikaelidas house.” Emilios allowed his brother a moment to read the details listed out, letting the shock settle in like it had for him. ”Anything that I wish to do in an official capacity shall require a countersignature to be considered legal.”
He took a deep drink of his wine, unable to say more as the silence settled over them.
The furrow of concern that had settled between his brother’s dark brows only deepened as Emilios spoke. What did he have that he would be feeling bad about. Outside of the obvious Watching with a growing discomfort, Achilleas leant forwards to collect the paper his younger brother extended out to him, unfolding it and shaking it with one sharp flick of his wrist as his gaze dropped to read over the words revealed.
Not that Emilios really gave him a chance, narrating the situation so that Achilleas glanced up sharply. “He did what?!" And because the notion seemed so outlandish and made no sense, he looked back to the parchment he held, made himself focus and read through the words there despite the initial flare of disbelief. Emilios must be mistaken, had misread or not comprehended something properly. And yet as Achilleas absorbed the detail before him, there was nothing there to discount his brother’s words, only the crisp and distinct confirmation of what was one last snide blow from their late father.
He was silent a few moments even when he had finished reading once, because it was hard to find words when it felt like a pail of chill water had just been poured over his head. For whilst Emilios might have been berating himself over this news, Achilleas was looking at it differently. His father had not expected to be passing the reins over to the younger of his two sons after all. He had confirmed as much at the dinner the night before the wedding. Which made it quite clear that his lack of faith sat squarely with Achilleas himself. He would not say it, but the knowledge of it scored deep. That it was Emilios who bore the brunt of it was unfair.
Very carefully, the man refolded the parchment and handed it back to his brother, raising his gaze to Emilios and giving the slightest shake of his head.
“I find it hard to believe, and yet entirely unsurprising at the same time” he said, with a mirthless laugh. “I hoped that perhaps…well. It doesn’t matter. Our dear father has made his opinions quite clear”
That hurt almost more than the act itself – the fact that it was so easy to imagine his father despairing of his sons and making such a decision.But he could dwell on the injury of it later. For now, Achilleas was full of questions. “I assume that Lord Fotios knows of this? Does anyone else?”
Because beyond their own, personal grievance with such a situation, there were wider implications for the Mikaelidas House. Both in practical terms, but also as a matter of pride and reputation. Achilleas was already considering who he knew who might be able to review the writings and see if they were enforceable, as well as considering the votes they held in their favour with the senate, even if one was forced to discount Emilios’ as head of house.
As King, he was separated from the machinations of House politics, but such did not change the fact that he was a lion through and through, and though he could not be seen to interfere, what conferences he held with his brother were no one else’s business.
“…..I do not know what to think of this, Emilios. It may have been Father’s ridiculous directive but why did those around him not challenge such a stupid suggestion.?To hold us - his own sons - in such contempt is one thing, but to put the balance of power in the hands of one who already holds so much makes no sense. There are countless others he could have asked to fulfill such a duty.”
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The furrow of concern that had settled between his brother’s dark brows only deepened as Emilios spoke. What did he have that he would be feeling bad about. Outside of the obvious Watching with a growing discomfort, Achilleas leant forwards to collect the paper his younger brother extended out to him, unfolding it and shaking it with one sharp flick of his wrist as his gaze dropped to read over the words revealed.
Not that Emilios really gave him a chance, narrating the situation so that Achilleas glanced up sharply. “He did what?!" And because the notion seemed so outlandish and made no sense, he looked back to the parchment he held, made himself focus and read through the words there despite the initial flare of disbelief. Emilios must be mistaken, had misread or not comprehended something properly. And yet as Achilleas absorbed the detail before him, there was nothing there to discount his brother’s words, only the crisp and distinct confirmation of what was one last snide blow from their late father.
He was silent a few moments even when he had finished reading once, because it was hard to find words when it felt like a pail of chill water had just been poured over his head. For whilst Emilios might have been berating himself over this news, Achilleas was looking at it differently. His father had not expected to be passing the reins over to the younger of his two sons after all. He had confirmed as much at the dinner the night before the wedding. Which made it quite clear that his lack of faith sat squarely with Achilleas himself. He would not say it, but the knowledge of it scored deep. That it was Emilios who bore the brunt of it was unfair.
Very carefully, the man refolded the parchment and handed it back to his brother, raising his gaze to Emilios and giving the slightest shake of his head.
“I find it hard to believe, and yet entirely unsurprising at the same time” he said, with a mirthless laugh. “I hoped that perhaps…well. It doesn’t matter. Our dear father has made his opinions quite clear”
That hurt almost more than the act itself – the fact that it was so easy to imagine his father despairing of his sons and making such a decision.But he could dwell on the injury of it later. For now, Achilleas was full of questions. “I assume that Lord Fotios knows of this? Does anyone else?”
Because beyond their own, personal grievance with such a situation, there were wider implications for the Mikaelidas House. Both in practical terms, but also as a matter of pride and reputation. Achilleas was already considering who he knew who might be able to review the writings and see if they were enforceable, as well as considering the votes they held in their favour with the senate, even if one was forced to discount Emilios’ as head of house.
As King, he was separated from the machinations of House politics, but such did not change the fact that he was a lion through and through, and though he could not be seen to interfere, what conferences he held with his brother were no one else’s business.
“…..I do not know what to think of this, Emilios. It may have been Father’s ridiculous directive but why did those around him not challenge such a stupid suggestion.?To hold us - his own sons - in such contempt is one thing, but to put the balance of power in the hands of one who already holds so much makes no sense. There are countless others he could have asked to fulfill such a duty.”
The furrow of concern that had settled between his brother’s dark brows only deepened as Emilios spoke. What did he have that he would be feeling bad about. Outside of the obvious Watching with a growing discomfort, Achilleas leant forwards to collect the paper his younger brother extended out to him, unfolding it and shaking it with one sharp flick of his wrist as his gaze dropped to read over the words revealed.
Not that Emilios really gave him a chance, narrating the situation so that Achilleas glanced up sharply. “He did what?!" And because the notion seemed so outlandish and made no sense, he looked back to the parchment he held, made himself focus and read through the words there despite the initial flare of disbelief. Emilios must be mistaken, had misread or not comprehended something properly. And yet as Achilleas absorbed the detail before him, there was nothing there to discount his brother’s words, only the crisp and distinct confirmation of what was one last snide blow from their late father.
He was silent a few moments even when he had finished reading once, because it was hard to find words when it felt like a pail of chill water had just been poured over his head. For whilst Emilios might have been berating himself over this news, Achilleas was looking at it differently. His father had not expected to be passing the reins over to the younger of his two sons after all. He had confirmed as much at the dinner the night before the wedding. Which made it quite clear that his lack of faith sat squarely with Achilleas himself. He would not say it, but the knowledge of it scored deep. That it was Emilios who bore the brunt of it was unfair.
Very carefully, the man refolded the parchment and handed it back to his brother, raising his gaze to Emilios and giving the slightest shake of his head.
“I find it hard to believe, and yet entirely unsurprising at the same time” he said, with a mirthless laugh. “I hoped that perhaps…well. It doesn’t matter. Our dear father has made his opinions quite clear”
That hurt almost more than the act itself – the fact that it was so easy to imagine his father despairing of his sons and making such a decision.But he could dwell on the injury of it later. For now, Achilleas was full of questions. “I assume that Lord Fotios knows of this? Does anyone else?”
Because beyond their own, personal grievance with such a situation, there were wider implications for the Mikaelidas House. Both in practical terms, but also as a matter of pride and reputation. Achilleas was already considering who he knew who might be able to review the writings and see if they were enforceable, as well as considering the votes they held in their favour with the senate, even if one was forced to discount Emilios’ as head of house.
As King, he was separated from the machinations of House politics, but such did not change the fact that he was a lion through and through, and though he could not be seen to interfere, what conferences he held with his brother were no one else’s business.
“…..I do not know what to think of this, Emilios. It may have been Father’s ridiculous directive but why did those around him not challenge such a stupid suggestion.?To hold us - his own sons - in such contempt is one thing, but to put the balance of power in the hands of one who already holds so much makes no sense. There are countless others he could have asked to fulfill such a duty.”
”That’s a little more along the lines of the reaction I was hoping for.” He said, casually leaning back into his chair as his brother dived into the information he’d already read. And reread. And read once more, just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. His reaction was the same as his own, which the brother could appreciate. It was beyond frustrating to have been dealt this blow. He had raged in his own way, keeping his newfound study intact this time around, preferring to destroy a target with his bow instead.
He sipped the wine as his brother read the paper, absorbed the news in the same way he had. And he wouldn’t have known that Achilleas saw this as a blow to him. In his mind, even when Stephanos was king, their father was working on his plan to take the throne for himself. There was no doubt to him that he was fully prepared to be king himself, which meant that upon his death, Achilleas would be king and Emilios would be the head. So even if Achilleas saw this as a mistrust of their father, Emilios saw it as it was now-- he was the one who wasn’t trusted. They should have felt united in that, accepting the obvious hate their father carried for the pair. “Couldn’t even trust us enough to let us try.” He said grimly, accepting that either way, this was an insult that they both felt down to their cores.
Pouring himself more wine (for he seemed to go through the first glass quickly), he sighed, “Who do you think brought it to my attention first? Whist all but skipping in and giggling out in glee.” They both knew that Fotios would have done neither of those things, but it did provide the mental image he wished to conjure in his mind. “The man was quick to make sure I was aware of it. He also made sure that I knew that as long as I played by his rules, my life would be easy.” He laughed bitterly, “If I wanted to sit back and do nothing, I could. Of all the times to want to grow up…” He balled his hand up into a fist, wishing he had the original stone to punch into pieces.
His eyes rolled at his brother’s inability to see the truth as it stood. “You mean, when father was trying to hide his illness, who but his best friend to leave his sons to? Please, he wasn’t that sentimental. No, I cannot help but think that Fotios was using father to get what he wants-- power. If you can’t marry off all your kin to kings, why not just take the ruling house for yourself?” His head shook, unable to deny what he’d been thinking about for days. “I think father was a willing pawn in the game. Fotios saw the chance to take what he wanted and used our own shortcomings to make it happen.”
Settling back into his seat, he rolled his shoulders in frustration. “And father was more than willing to ensure that we wouldn’t disappoint him, even from his grave. Sad the bastard is dead. I’d like to tell him off one last time.” There was another sigh, “Fotios believes we should make sure that Xene has something to keep herself busy. A barony perhaps?” He wondered if he could convince his cousin to fall in line with the family, or if there was more going on between the princess and the sudden half-head of house to his own name.
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”That’s a little more along the lines of the reaction I was hoping for.” He said, casually leaning back into his chair as his brother dived into the information he’d already read. And reread. And read once more, just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. His reaction was the same as his own, which the brother could appreciate. It was beyond frustrating to have been dealt this blow. He had raged in his own way, keeping his newfound study intact this time around, preferring to destroy a target with his bow instead.
He sipped the wine as his brother read the paper, absorbed the news in the same way he had. And he wouldn’t have known that Achilleas saw this as a blow to him. In his mind, even when Stephanos was king, their father was working on his plan to take the throne for himself. There was no doubt to him that he was fully prepared to be king himself, which meant that upon his death, Achilleas would be king and Emilios would be the head. So even if Achilleas saw this as a mistrust of their father, Emilios saw it as it was now-- he was the one who wasn’t trusted. They should have felt united in that, accepting the obvious hate their father carried for the pair. “Couldn’t even trust us enough to let us try.” He said grimly, accepting that either way, this was an insult that they both felt down to their cores.
Pouring himself more wine (for he seemed to go through the first glass quickly), he sighed, “Who do you think brought it to my attention first? Whist all but skipping in and giggling out in glee.” They both knew that Fotios would have done neither of those things, but it did provide the mental image he wished to conjure in his mind. “The man was quick to make sure I was aware of it. He also made sure that I knew that as long as I played by his rules, my life would be easy.” He laughed bitterly, “If I wanted to sit back and do nothing, I could. Of all the times to want to grow up…” He balled his hand up into a fist, wishing he had the original stone to punch into pieces.
His eyes rolled at his brother’s inability to see the truth as it stood. “You mean, when father was trying to hide his illness, who but his best friend to leave his sons to? Please, he wasn’t that sentimental. No, I cannot help but think that Fotios was using father to get what he wants-- power. If you can’t marry off all your kin to kings, why not just take the ruling house for yourself?” His head shook, unable to deny what he’d been thinking about for days. “I think father was a willing pawn in the game. Fotios saw the chance to take what he wanted and used our own shortcomings to make it happen.”
Settling back into his seat, he rolled his shoulders in frustration. “And father was more than willing to ensure that we wouldn’t disappoint him, even from his grave. Sad the bastard is dead. I’d like to tell him off one last time.” There was another sigh, “Fotios believes we should make sure that Xene has something to keep herself busy. A barony perhaps?” He wondered if he could convince his cousin to fall in line with the family, or if there was more going on between the princess and the sudden half-head of house to his own name.
”That’s a little more along the lines of the reaction I was hoping for.” He said, casually leaning back into his chair as his brother dived into the information he’d already read. And reread. And read once more, just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. His reaction was the same as his own, which the brother could appreciate. It was beyond frustrating to have been dealt this blow. He had raged in his own way, keeping his newfound study intact this time around, preferring to destroy a target with his bow instead.
He sipped the wine as his brother read the paper, absorbed the news in the same way he had. And he wouldn’t have known that Achilleas saw this as a blow to him. In his mind, even when Stephanos was king, their father was working on his plan to take the throne for himself. There was no doubt to him that he was fully prepared to be king himself, which meant that upon his death, Achilleas would be king and Emilios would be the head. So even if Achilleas saw this as a mistrust of their father, Emilios saw it as it was now-- he was the one who wasn’t trusted. They should have felt united in that, accepting the obvious hate their father carried for the pair. “Couldn’t even trust us enough to let us try.” He said grimly, accepting that either way, this was an insult that they both felt down to their cores.
Pouring himself more wine (for he seemed to go through the first glass quickly), he sighed, “Who do you think brought it to my attention first? Whist all but skipping in and giggling out in glee.” They both knew that Fotios would have done neither of those things, but it did provide the mental image he wished to conjure in his mind. “The man was quick to make sure I was aware of it. He also made sure that I knew that as long as I played by his rules, my life would be easy.” He laughed bitterly, “If I wanted to sit back and do nothing, I could. Of all the times to want to grow up…” He balled his hand up into a fist, wishing he had the original stone to punch into pieces.
His eyes rolled at his brother’s inability to see the truth as it stood. “You mean, when father was trying to hide his illness, who but his best friend to leave his sons to? Please, he wasn’t that sentimental. No, I cannot help but think that Fotios was using father to get what he wants-- power. If you can’t marry off all your kin to kings, why not just take the ruling house for yourself?” His head shook, unable to deny what he’d been thinking about for days. “I think father was a willing pawn in the game. Fotios saw the chance to take what he wanted and used our own shortcomings to make it happen.”
Settling back into his seat, he rolled his shoulders in frustration. “And father was more than willing to ensure that we wouldn’t disappoint him, even from his grave. Sad the bastard is dead. I’d like to tell him off one last time.” There was another sigh, “Fotios believes we should make sure that Xene has something to keep herself busy. A barony perhaps?” He wondered if he could convince his cousin to fall in line with the family, or if there was more going on between the princess and the sudden half-head of house to his own name.
Achilleas had continued to frown at the parchment, as if by expressing his discontent he might will the entire thing out of existence, and his gaze lifted only briefly to frown at Emilios when he made his flippant remark about desired reactions. Honestly.
He supposed his brother had been gifted some time to come to terms with the news that he himself was hearing for the first time, yet Emilios had a knack for appearing unruffled at most times anyway. Almost like he didn’t care, but Achilleas knew better.
There was a displeased murmur of agreement to Emilios’ assertion that their father had chosen once again not to trust in his sons, and for a moment, Achilleas slumped back in the chair he sat upon, just letting that settle and trying to comprehend where they might go from here.
News that Lord Fotios had been the one to speak to his brother of the matter dashed any naive hope that he’d held of just hushing it up until he could get the legality of it checked, and the older sibling shook his head softly at the notion that the Leventi Lord had already attempted to flex his muscle in this. With their Father not dead a week.
“We must tread carefully Emilios” he warned, for his brother’s irritation was clearly read. “ I’m sure Lord Fotios would not intend to imply that your role is diminished, he’ll just be seeing through Father’s wishes”
But Emilios’ eye roll was enough to suggest he thought Achilleas foolish to think so, his words only underscoring that, and Achilleas put down the parchment, kneaded it at his brow because this was all making his head hurt.
He didn’t want to think ill of the man they had so recently buried, and had been doing a fair job not thinking of him at all, but this was just shining a bright light upon those things that Achilleas had struggled to make sense of before. Or at least, struggled to make palatable sense of.
“Perhaps” he said, though his reluctance to give voice to such a belief was evident in the way he hastily followed the assertion with an over large swallow of wine and he winced a little at his brother’s casual insult of the man.
It was good then that Emilios chose to bring another matter to bear, and this one had the older brother look up in confusion . “Xene? A barony? Why?”
Whilst he held a great deal of respect for their cousin, Achilleas could not begin to fathom why Fotios of Leventi would see her with her own barony. She was entirely unschooled in what it would be to lead a province and surely if she had such inclinations she would have been granted her wish by her father or brother?
Achilleas frowned. “And what do you think to such a suggestion? What did you say in return?”
As Head of House - for as much as he was revealed to be - Emilios would have say over such a thing, it was really not up to Achilleas but he could not help but wonder if this request was just Lord Fotios testing how Emilios would respond to being managed, or if there was something more. “I suppose you should speak to Xene.” And then as if a sudden afterthought “Don’t give her Euttica”
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Achilleas had continued to frown at the parchment, as if by expressing his discontent he might will the entire thing out of existence, and his gaze lifted only briefly to frown at Emilios when he made his flippant remark about desired reactions. Honestly.
He supposed his brother had been gifted some time to come to terms with the news that he himself was hearing for the first time, yet Emilios had a knack for appearing unruffled at most times anyway. Almost like he didn’t care, but Achilleas knew better.
There was a displeased murmur of agreement to Emilios’ assertion that their father had chosen once again not to trust in his sons, and for a moment, Achilleas slumped back in the chair he sat upon, just letting that settle and trying to comprehend where they might go from here.
News that Lord Fotios had been the one to speak to his brother of the matter dashed any naive hope that he’d held of just hushing it up until he could get the legality of it checked, and the older sibling shook his head softly at the notion that the Leventi Lord had already attempted to flex his muscle in this. With their Father not dead a week.
“We must tread carefully Emilios” he warned, for his brother’s irritation was clearly read. “ I’m sure Lord Fotios would not intend to imply that your role is diminished, he’ll just be seeing through Father’s wishes”
But Emilios’ eye roll was enough to suggest he thought Achilleas foolish to think so, his words only underscoring that, and Achilleas put down the parchment, kneaded it at his brow because this was all making his head hurt.
He didn’t want to think ill of the man they had so recently buried, and had been doing a fair job not thinking of him at all, but this was just shining a bright light upon those things that Achilleas had struggled to make sense of before. Or at least, struggled to make palatable sense of.
“Perhaps” he said, though his reluctance to give voice to such a belief was evident in the way he hastily followed the assertion with an over large swallow of wine and he winced a little at his brother’s casual insult of the man.
It was good then that Emilios chose to bring another matter to bear, and this one had the older brother look up in confusion . “Xene? A barony? Why?”
Whilst he held a great deal of respect for their cousin, Achilleas could not begin to fathom why Fotios of Leventi would see her with her own barony. She was entirely unschooled in what it would be to lead a province and surely if she had such inclinations she would have been granted her wish by her father or brother?
Achilleas frowned. “And what do you think to such a suggestion? What did you say in return?”
As Head of House - for as much as he was revealed to be - Emilios would have say over such a thing, it was really not up to Achilleas but he could not help but wonder if this request was just Lord Fotios testing how Emilios would respond to being managed, or if there was something more. “I suppose you should speak to Xene.” And then as if a sudden afterthought “Don’t give her Euttica”
Achilleas had continued to frown at the parchment, as if by expressing his discontent he might will the entire thing out of existence, and his gaze lifted only briefly to frown at Emilios when he made his flippant remark about desired reactions. Honestly.
He supposed his brother had been gifted some time to come to terms with the news that he himself was hearing for the first time, yet Emilios had a knack for appearing unruffled at most times anyway. Almost like he didn’t care, but Achilleas knew better.
There was a displeased murmur of agreement to Emilios’ assertion that their father had chosen once again not to trust in his sons, and for a moment, Achilleas slumped back in the chair he sat upon, just letting that settle and trying to comprehend where they might go from here.
News that Lord Fotios had been the one to speak to his brother of the matter dashed any naive hope that he’d held of just hushing it up until he could get the legality of it checked, and the older sibling shook his head softly at the notion that the Leventi Lord had already attempted to flex his muscle in this. With their Father not dead a week.
“We must tread carefully Emilios” he warned, for his brother’s irritation was clearly read. “ I’m sure Lord Fotios would not intend to imply that your role is diminished, he’ll just be seeing through Father’s wishes”
But Emilios’ eye roll was enough to suggest he thought Achilleas foolish to think so, his words only underscoring that, and Achilleas put down the parchment, kneaded it at his brow because this was all making his head hurt.
He didn’t want to think ill of the man they had so recently buried, and had been doing a fair job not thinking of him at all, but this was just shining a bright light upon those things that Achilleas had struggled to make sense of before. Or at least, struggled to make palatable sense of.
“Perhaps” he said, though his reluctance to give voice to such a belief was evident in the way he hastily followed the assertion with an over large swallow of wine and he winced a little at his brother’s casual insult of the man.
It was good then that Emilios chose to bring another matter to bear, and this one had the older brother look up in confusion . “Xene? A barony? Why?”
Whilst he held a great deal of respect for their cousin, Achilleas could not begin to fathom why Fotios of Leventi would see her with her own barony. She was entirely unschooled in what it would be to lead a province and surely if she had such inclinations she would have been granted her wish by her father or brother?
Achilleas frowned. “And what do you think to such a suggestion? What did you say in return?”
As Head of House - for as much as he was revealed to be - Emilios would have say over such a thing, it was really not up to Achilleas but he could not help but wonder if this request was just Lord Fotios testing how Emilios would respond to being managed, or if there was something more. “I suppose you should speak to Xene.” And then as if a sudden afterthought “Don’t give her Euttica”
Emilios knew that in his brother’s current situation, any comments holding no seriousness within the words would be met with a glare of frustration. And that knowledge alone was enough of a reason for him to make it, and to smile as if it didn’t affect him at all. It was his brother’s job to worry enough for the both of them. It didn’t mean he was bothered any less by what happened, it just meant that he had come to terms with it. And while Achilleas was still trying to grapple with what it meant, Emilios could take a breath as the news was no longer his burden alone to bear.
He laughed a little, knowing that no one knew him as well as his brother did. “Oh, aren’t you just an optimistic ray of sunshine.” Little did his brother know what Fotios truly held over his head. “Fotios will use it as he needs to. As long as my own intentions align with his, there is no need for him to try and go against what I believe is right.” But the king was right in the assumptions that they would need to tread carefully.
This was uncharted territory for them both, and neither would have many to rely on to know if they were getting it right or not. And the rule of this line of the house was now trying to fight what seemed like a war on two fronts. And one of them was within their own walls. He would have to figure out how to deal with it, how to play the game. “Alas, we shall just have to make sure that we keep those we trust closer.”
He wanted to talk on the topic more, but there was little to be said about it. What was done had been done, leaving little to do but try and deal with the consequences. Once this war was over, they could look at removing everything that threatened the peace within their walls.
His shoulders lifted at his brother’s questions. “I do not know why he thinks she should have a barony. But it is not a bad idea. Just based on this shit show, we could use any allies we can get within the Senate. If we close ranks around family, perhaps we can…” With a shrug of his shoulder again, Emilios couldn’t quite say for sure why Fotios wanted her to have a title. “Maybe he just wants any potential threats out of the city? Who knows?”
Emilios wasn’t sure what Xene would do with the responsibilities, but he didn’t want her in the city, constantly over his shoulder, either. “I do not think it is a horrible idea, not when it is becoming more and more clear that we have no idea who our true allies are.” He hated politics for this very reason. “Perhaps, if it is clear that the expectation is that she will continue to support the family…” He would let his brother draw his own conclusions.
The idea of giving her Euttica didn’t sit well with him either. “Gods, no. That’s for your son. I was thinking of Messenis, maybe. It is a mess, but it will keep her busy enough. It’s well established enough that she can’t make it any worse.” If he was thinking of the right province, anyway-- he’d never been one to care about things like that until now. “I have invited her to lunch, and I will ask her opinion of it. But the more Mikaelidas we can give power to, the better off we will be, right?”
His eyebrow lifted, “Oh, do you care to share why your maid is still in my home? Weepy thing cannot seem to do anything but sob into a kerchief. Should I be aware of something?” He thought of the pretty young girl who had been part of Achilleas’s staff for a long time. Why the sudden change of post?
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Emilios knew that in his brother’s current situation, any comments holding no seriousness within the words would be met with a glare of frustration. And that knowledge alone was enough of a reason for him to make it, and to smile as if it didn’t affect him at all. It was his brother’s job to worry enough for the both of them. It didn’t mean he was bothered any less by what happened, it just meant that he had come to terms with it. And while Achilleas was still trying to grapple with what it meant, Emilios could take a breath as the news was no longer his burden alone to bear.
He laughed a little, knowing that no one knew him as well as his brother did. “Oh, aren’t you just an optimistic ray of sunshine.” Little did his brother know what Fotios truly held over his head. “Fotios will use it as he needs to. As long as my own intentions align with his, there is no need for him to try and go against what I believe is right.” But the king was right in the assumptions that they would need to tread carefully.
This was uncharted territory for them both, and neither would have many to rely on to know if they were getting it right or not. And the rule of this line of the house was now trying to fight what seemed like a war on two fronts. And one of them was within their own walls. He would have to figure out how to deal with it, how to play the game. “Alas, we shall just have to make sure that we keep those we trust closer.”
He wanted to talk on the topic more, but there was little to be said about it. What was done had been done, leaving little to do but try and deal with the consequences. Once this war was over, they could look at removing everything that threatened the peace within their walls.
His shoulders lifted at his brother’s questions. “I do not know why he thinks she should have a barony. But it is not a bad idea. Just based on this shit show, we could use any allies we can get within the Senate. If we close ranks around family, perhaps we can…” With a shrug of his shoulder again, Emilios couldn’t quite say for sure why Fotios wanted her to have a title. “Maybe he just wants any potential threats out of the city? Who knows?”
Emilios wasn’t sure what Xene would do with the responsibilities, but he didn’t want her in the city, constantly over his shoulder, either. “I do not think it is a horrible idea, not when it is becoming more and more clear that we have no idea who our true allies are.” He hated politics for this very reason. “Perhaps, if it is clear that the expectation is that she will continue to support the family…” He would let his brother draw his own conclusions.
The idea of giving her Euttica didn’t sit well with him either. “Gods, no. That’s for your son. I was thinking of Messenis, maybe. It is a mess, but it will keep her busy enough. It’s well established enough that she can’t make it any worse.” If he was thinking of the right province, anyway-- he’d never been one to care about things like that until now. “I have invited her to lunch, and I will ask her opinion of it. But the more Mikaelidas we can give power to, the better off we will be, right?”
His eyebrow lifted, “Oh, do you care to share why your maid is still in my home? Weepy thing cannot seem to do anything but sob into a kerchief. Should I be aware of something?” He thought of the pretty young girl who had been part of Achilleas’s staff for a long time. Why the sudden change of post?
Emilios knew that in his brother’s current situation, any comments holding no seriousness within the words would be met with a glare of frustration. And that knowledge alone was enough of a reason for him to make it, and to smile as if it didn’t affect him at all. It was his brother’s job to worry enough for the both of them. It didn’t mean he was bothered any less by what happened, it just meant that he had come to terms with it. And while Achilleas was still trying to grapple with what it meant, Emilios could take a breath as the news was no longer his burden alone to bear.
He laughed a little, knowing that no one knew him as well as his brother did. “Oh, aren’t you just an optimistic ray of sunshine.” Little did his brother know what Fotios truly held over his head. “Fotios will use it as he needs to. As long as my own intentions align with his, there is no need for him to try and go against what I believe is right.” But the king was right in the assumptions that they would need to tread carefully.
This was uncharted territory for them both, and neither would have many to rely on to know if they were getting it right or not. And the rule of this line of the house was now trying to fight what seemed like a war on two fronts. And one of them was within their own walls. He would have to figure out how to deal with it, how to play the game. “Alas, we shall just have to make sure that we keep those we trust closer.”
He wanted to talk on the topic more, but there was little to be said about it. What was done had been done, leaving little to do but try and deal with the consequences. Once this war was over, they could look at removing everything that threatened the peace within their walls.
His shoulders lifted at his brother’s questions. “I do not know why he thinks she should have a barony. But it is not a bad idea. Just based on this shit show, we could use any allies we can get within the Senate. If we close ranks around family, perhaps we can…” With a shrug of his shoulder again, Emilios couldn’t quite say for sure why Fotios wanted her to have a title. “Maybe he just wants any potential threats out of the city? Who knows?”
Emilios wasn’t sure what Xene would do with the responsibilities, but he didn’t want her in the city, constantly over his shoulder, either. “I do not think it is a horrible idea, not when it is becoming more and more clear that we have no idea who our true allies are.” He hated politics for this very reason. “Perhaps, if it is clear that the expectation is that she will continue to support the family…” He would let his brother draw his own conclusions.
The idea of giving her Euttica didn’t sit well with him either. “Gods, no. That’s for your son. I was thinking of Messenis, maybe. It is a mess, but it will keep her busy enough. It’s well established enough that she can’t make it any worse.” If he was thinking of the right province, anyway-- he’d never been one to care about things like that until now. “I have invited her to lunch, and I will ask her opinion of it. But the more Mikaelidas we can give power to, the better off we will be, right?”
His eyebrow lifted, “Oh, do you care to share why your maid is still in my home? Weepy thing cannot seem to do anything but sob into a kerchief. Should I be aware of something?” He thought of the pretty young girl who had been part of Achilleas’s staff for a long time. Why the sudden change of post?
It was no new conversation between them, so Achilleas did not react to his brother’s droll response. It generally took a lot for him to think negatively of a person, and Lord Fotios had long been a friend of their family, an ally, There was something very discomfiting to consider him as something other than thaT now, and the feeling shared space with the same that pertained to his father, the notion that he had played a manipulative role in seeing Stephanos run off the throne, and more besides.
He was quiet then, giving a small nod as Emilios spoke of keeping those they trusted close, though it was a pitifully short list of names when Achilleas considered it. Their cousins Xene and Gianna would be amongst such company though, and that had the elder brother view the potential for gifting Xene a barony in a new light.
“No, you are right Emilios. It is a gesture too, of how we still see their import to this family. Maybe enough to dull ill-feeling until we can address the charges against Steph. We don’t need to be giving others more opportunity to see this house divided.”
But Achilleas could not help but feel releived when Emilios put paid to the idea of giving Euttica away to Xene. The province had been in his care for half of his life, and it felt more like home than Vasiliadon ever would. The thought of it not being his anymore was going to take some getting used to, and that wouldnt be made any more enjoyable if it were his cousin it were transferred to.
There was a flash of a look at his brother because, gods, he wasn’t ready to start planning around future heirs, but Achilleas held his tongue and instead mulled over the other’s suggestion of Messenis. The province was known as a lively place, busy with creative energy. He could see how Xene might feel some affinity to the place, it was her Mother’s birth place too. Still, the elder brother had some reservations about the size of the undertaking, with Messenis being one of the larger provinces their family owned.
“I suppose she might be offended if we tried to shove her off into Aetotis” he mused, but waved his hand as if to dismiss the suggestion himself. “Messensis is a fair choice, let me know how that lunch goes.”
He might have wished that they had dwelled on the subject a little longer though, for no sooner had it been put to rest that Emilios had moved his attention onto an altogether more awkward topic. Unprepared for the line of questioning, he took a sip of wine and then bought himself a little time by playing dumb.
“Hmm?My maid?” It was too far, really, to suppose Emilios wasn’t aware of what had been between Achilleas and the servant within their father’s household, and though he did his best to keep it from his face, Achilleas felt that same guilt that tinged all of his thoughts when it came to Briseis. It was made only more piercing given what had transpired only two days earlier, and he shifted a little, uncomfortable with the idea that he had once again managed to make the girl unhappy.
And he supposed Emilios ought to be aware, though it was not a thing he enjoyed owning and for a few moments, the new king found himself very preoccupied with the intricate carving on the chalice he held. When he looked back up to his brother it was with a resigned sort of expression upon his face.
“There might have...been an incident of sorts” he mumbled, frowning back into his wine “ If she’s...Well, it might not be a bad idea to see her comfortable, Emilios. I don’t much want to make an enemy of the girl”
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It was no new conversation between them, so Achilleas did not react to his brother’s droll response. It generally took a lot for him to think negatively of a person, and Lord Fotios had long been a friend of their family, an ally, There was something very discomfiting to consider him as something other than thaT now, and the feeling shared space with the same that pertained to his father, the notion that he had played a manipulative role in seeing Stephanos run off the throne, and more besides.
He was quiet then, giving a small nod as Emilios spoke of keeping those they trusted close, though it was a pitifully short list of names when Achilleas considered it. Their cousins Xene and Gianna would be amongst such company though, and that had the elder brother view the potential for gifting Xene a barony in a new light.
“No, you are right Emilios. It is a gesture too, of how we still see their import to this family. Maybe enough to dull ill-feeling until we can address the charges against Steph. We don’t need to be giving others more opportunity to see this house divided.”
But Achilleas could not help but feel releived when Emilios put paid to the idea of giving Euttica away to Xene. The province had been in his care for half of his life, and it felt more like home than Vasiliadon ever would. The thought of it not being his anymore was going to take some getting used to, and that wouldnt be made any more enjoyable if it were his cousin it were transferred to.
There was a flash of a look at his brother because, gods, he wasn’t ready to start planning around future heirs, but Achilleas held his tongue and instead mulled over the other’s suggestion of Messenis. The province was known as a lively place, busy with creative energy. He could see how Xene might feel some affinity to the place, it was her Mother’s birth place too. Still, the elder brother had some reservations about the size of the undertaking, with Messenis being one of the larger provinces their family owned.
“I suppose she might be offended if we tried to shove her off into Aetotis” he mused, but waved his hand as if to dismiss the suggestion himself. “Messensis is a fair choice, let me know how that lunch goes.”
He might have wished that they had dwelled on the subject a little longer though, for no sooner had it been put to rest that Emilios had moved his attention onto an altogether more awkward topic. Unprepared for the line of questioning, he took a sip of wine and then bought himself a little time by playing dumb.
“Hmm?My maid?” It was too far, really, to suppose Emilios wasn’t aware of what had been between Achilleas and the servant within their father’s household, and though he did his best to keep it from his face, Achilleas felt that same guilt that tinged all of his thoughts when it came to Briseis. It was made only more piercing given what had transpired only two days earlier, and he shifted a little, uncomfortable with the idea that he had once again managed to make the girl unhappy.
And he supposed Emilios ought to be aware, though it was not a thing he enjoyed owning and for a few moments, the new king found himself very preoccupied with the intricate carving on the chalice he held. When he looked back up to his brother it was with a resigned sort of expression upon his face.
“There might have...been an incident of sorts” he mumbled, frowning back into his wine “ If she’s...Well, it might not be a bad idea to see her comfortable, Emilios. I don’t much want to make an enemy of the girl”
It was no new conversation between them, so Achilleas did not react to his brother’s droll response. It generally took a lot for him to think negatively of a person, and Lord Fotios had long been a friend of their family, an ally, There was something very discomfiting to consider him as something other than thaT now, and the feeling shared space with the same that pertained to his father, the notion that he had played a manipulative role in seeing Stephanos run off the throne, and more besides.
He was quiet then, giving a small nod as Emilios spoke of keeping those they trusted close, though it was a pitifully short list of names when Achilleas considered it. Their cousins Xene and Gianna would be amongst such company though, and that had the elder brother view the potential for gifting Xene a barony in a new light.
“No, you are right Emilios. It is a gesture too, of how we still see their import to this family. Maybe enough to dull ill-feeling until we can address the charges against Steph. We don’t need to be giving others more opportunity to see this house divided.”
But Achilleas could not help but feel releived when Emilios put paid to the idea of giving Euttica away to Xene. The province had been in his care for half of his life, and it felt more like home than Vasiliadon ever would. The thought of it not being his anymore was going to take some getting used to, and that wouldnt be made any more enjoyable if it were his cousin it were transferred to.
There was a flash of a look at his brother because, gods, he wasn’t ready to start planning around future heirs, but Achilleas held his tongue and instead mulled over the other’s suggestion of Messenis. The province was known as a lively place, busy with creative energy. He could see how Xene might feel some affinity to the place, it was her Mother’s birth place too. Still, the elder brother had some reservations about the size of the undertaking, with Messenis being one of the larger provinces their family owned.
“I suppose she might be offended if we tried to shove her off into Aetotis” he mused, but waved his hand as if to dismiss the suggestion himself. “Messensis is a fair choice, let me know how that lunch goes.”
He might have wished that they had dwelled on the subject a little longer though, for no sooner had it been put to rest that Emilios had moved his attention onto an altogether more awkward topic. Unprepared for the line of questioning, he took a sip of wine and then bought himself a little time by playing dumb.
“Hmm?My maid?” It was too far, really, to suppose Emilios wasn’t aware of what had been between Achilleas and the servant within their father’s household, and though he did his best to keep it from his face, Achilleas felt that same guilt that tinged all of his thoughts when it came to Briseis. It was made only more piercing given what had transpired only two days earlier, and he shifted a little, uncomfortable with the idea that he had once again managed to make the girl unhappy.
And he supposed Emilios ought to be aware, though it was not a thing he enjoyed owning and for a few moments, the new king found himself very preoccupied with the intricate carving on the chalice he held. When he looked back up to his brother it was with a resigned sort of expression upon his face.
“There might have...been an incident of sorts” he mumbled, frowning back into his wine “ If she’s...Well, it might not be a bad idea to see her comfortable, Emilios. I don’t much want to make an enemy of the girl”
Even though the idea had been Fotios’s, Emilios felt like there was no reason he could not spin it to his advantage. “Whatever is his reason, I can see nothing bad about making sure it is to our advantage as well.” He wasn’t sure Xene would be able to do much, but if she agreed, he would do his best to make sure she was successful. The Mikaelidas family had to succeed. And when this was all over, they could figure out what to do about Stephanos.
It was easy for them to agree on the province to give her. While he had never made a point to visit Messenis unless traveling through, Emilios knew she would at least be thankful for the offer. Even if she said no, or asked for a different province, it would show that he had faith in her, in the family. And perhaps he would be able to call on her when needed. With that topic behind them, it was easy to move onto the next-- that of the maid who seemed all too content with Achilleas.
“Listen, I am in no place to judge.” The comment made his stomach turn just a bit, for his words were intended differently than they sounded in his ears. There was the underlying sense of betrayal that had fallen on them both, once that he would not know about as long as Emilios had anything to say about it. It was hard for him to know the true intentions of his brother. Was the relationship with Theo just one of convenience, which he had hoped, or was it more? His reaction to the news of his maid made it more difficult to truly place his feelings. Did he feel bad because he asked her to leave in favor of his new bride? Or was it because he felt as if he had to, but still loved the young woman who had warmed his bed? There would be no way for him to know for sure, at least not until his brother returned. By then, the betrayal on his part would be over. And hopefully, he would be able to cut ties with Fotios.
He would tell his brother himself.
After the war.
Maybe.
“I know of the girl. And I know that you had a fondness for her any time you were in the city.” He had, on occasion, watched the girl sneak out of his brother’s room. And even with his own flirting with her, he couldn’t sway her to his bed. But the distraction for his brother had been good, since he had failed to notice in the year he’d been with Theo. “I never thought I’d be the one cleaning up YOUR messes.” His grin was playful, smug. Perhaps his brother would one day forgive him based on this. “How comfortable? Married off to a wealthy merchant? Send her off to Euttica to work until you return? Maybe employ her within Xene’s home? How far would you wish me to go?”
He could always send her off to Athenia or Colchis if needed.
“Do you want her close enough to fulfill any urges? Or far enough away that you’d never be tempted?”
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Even though the idea had been Fotios’s, Emilios felt like there was no reason he could not spin it to his advantage. “Whatever is his reason, I can see nothing bad about making sure it is to our advantage as well.” He wasn’t sure Xene would be able to do much, but if she agreed, he would do his best to make sure she was successful. The Mikaelidas family had to succeed. And when this was all over, they could figure out what to do about Stephanos.
It was easy for them to agree on the province to give her. While he had never made a point to visit Messenis unless traveling through, Emilios knew she would at least be thankful for the offer. Even if she said no, or asked for a different province, it would show that he had faith in her, in the family. And perhaps he would be able to call on her when needed. With that topic behind them, it was easy to move onto the next-- that of the maid who seemed all too content with Achilleas.
“Listen, I am in no place to judge.” The comment made his stomach turn just a bit, for his words were intended differently than they sounded in his ears. There was the underlying sense of betrayal that had fallen on them both, once that he would not know about as long as Emilios had anything to say about it. It was hard for him to know the true intentions of his brother. Was the relationship with Theo just one of convenience, which he had hoped, or was it more? His reaction to the news of his maid made it more difficult to truly place his feelings. Did he feel bad because he asked her to leave in favor of his new bride? Or was it because he felt as if he had to, but still loved the young woman who had warmed his bed? There would be no way for him to know for sure, at least not until his brother returned. By then, the betrayal on his part would be over. And hopefully, he would be able to cut ties with Fotios.
He would tell his brother himself.
After the war.
Maybe.
“I know of the girl. And I know that you had a fondness for her any time you were in the city.” He had, on occasion, watched the girl sneak out of his brother’s room. And even with his own flirting with her, he couldn’t sway her to his bed. But the distraction for his brother had been good, since he had failed to notice in the year he’d been with Theo. “I never thought I’d be the one cleaning up YOUR messes.” His grin was playful, smug. Perhaps his brother would one day forgive him based on this. “How comfortable? Married off to a wealthy merchant? Send her off to Euttica to work until you return? Maybe employ her within Xene’s home? How far would you wish me to go?”
He could always send her off to Athenia or Colchis if needed.
“Do you want her close enough to fulfill any urges? Or far enough away that you’d never be tempted?”
Even though the idea had been Fotios’s, Emilios felt like there was no reason he could not spin it to his advantage. “Whatever is his reason, I can see nothing bad about making sure it is to our advantage as well.” He wasn’t sure Xene would be able to do much, but if she agreed, he would do his best to make sure she was successful. The Mikaelidas family had to succeed. And when this was all over, they could figure out what to do about Stephanos.
It was easy for them to agree on the province to give her. While he had never made a point to visit Messenis unless traveling through, Emilios knew she would at least be thankful for the offer. Even if she said no, or asked for a different province, it would show that he had faith in her, in the family. And perhaps he would be able to call on her when needed. With that topic behind them, it was easy to move onto the next-- that of the maid who seemed all too content with Achilleas.
“Listen, I am in no place to judge.” The comment made his stomach turn just a bit, for his words were intended differently than they sounded in his ears. There was the underlying sense of betrayal that had fallen on them both, once that he would not know about as long as Emilios had anything to say about it. It was hard for him to know the true intentions of his brother. Was the relationship with Theo just one of convenience, which he had hoped, or was it more? His reaction to the news of his maid made it more difficult to truly place his feelings. Did he feel bad because he asked her to leave in favor of his new bride? Or was it because he felt as if he had to, but still loved the young woman who had warmed his bed? There would be no way for him to know for sure, at least not until his brother returned. By then, the betrayal on his part would be over. And hopefully, he would be able to cut ties with Fotios.
He would tell his brother himself.
After the war.
Maybe.
“I know of the girl. And I know that you had a fondness for her any time you were in the city.” He had, on occasion, watched the girl sneak out of his brother’s room. And even with his own flirting with her, he couldn’t sway her to his bed. But the distraction for his brother had been good, since he had failed to notice in the year he’d been with Theo. “I never thought I’d be the one cleaning up YOUR messes.” His grin was playful, smug. Perhaps his brother would one day forgive him based on this. “How comfortable? Married off to a wealthy merchant? Send her off to Euttica to work until you return? Maybe employ her within Xene’s home? How far would you wish me to go?”
He could always send her off to Athenia or Colchis if needed.
“Do you want her close enough to fulfill any urges? Or far enough away that you’d never be tempted?”
It was not as if Achilleas didn’t feel bad about the hand that been dealt to his cousins. He did, he felt guilty for having stepped into the role that Stephanos had been so recently pushed out of, he felt uncomfortable assuming a home in the place where Xene and Gianna had grown, where his Aunt had ruled. But what was he to do? Taengea was in desperate need of some stability, and if he could offer even a little of that then he would. They would need to work on ho they could bring Stephanos back when the time was right. When the Egyptians were not beating on their door.
Emilios was right into seeing this opportunity to strengthen the relationship between the two Mikaelidas lines, whatever motivation Fotios of Leventi might have had. He nodded absently, considered the matter closed.
When Emilios’ next question put him on the spot, Achilleas bumbled through it, and his brother’s ‘I am not one to judge’ only made him unhappier still. Was his conduct to be compared with his brother’s now? Much as the elder held some affection for his younger sibling, there was no denying that Achilleas had rolled his eyes enough about the other’s indiscretions. It made him uncomfortable indeed to think their behaviours comparable.
Likely because he already berated himself enough for how he had let things get so messy with Briseis. What he had intended just to be a casual and easy arrangement had ended up with roots wound deeper than he had realised. He’d ended it clumsily, and had surprised himself when he had missed Briseis once he was without her. The slip up the other day had just been the garnish atop it all.
Of course, Achilleas could not know what made his brother draw parallels. He couldn’t know that Emilios tried to find the truth of where Achilleas’ feelings towards Theodora lay. If he had of known, he might have told him it was none of his business. Or he might have ventured that he felt like he’d finally been gifted something he really wanted and that she had been a silver lining through the shadow of the past days. But such things were added to the secrets that already lay between the brothers.
Scowling into his wine, he was shaking his head when Emilios went on. “Don’t” he snapped, peevish and not liking the role reversal even as his brother observed it. And then he looked up sharply as the younger man went on, his gaze narrowing.
“Don’t be ridiculous?” he said, offended when Emilios mentioned fulfilling urges. “I wouldn’t dishonour Theodora like that. Just…” he reached for something that would be a palatable solution. The idea of having Briseis married off… well, it made him unaccountable angry. He didn’t want that, even though it would be best for the girl, wouldn’t it? A good life, away from the palati. A chance at her own marriage and a family? He pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Can you just sort it out?”
For once, this was not a responsibility that Achilleas wished to shoulder. Atop everything else, he couldn’t think about it. And there was a niggling voice that he wanted to scream at to shut up that suggested he wasn’t the most rational when it came to the girl from Maliania either. It sounded a lot like Krysto’s voice when he thought about it. The new King decided they had talked on it enough.
“I want to know what Lord Fotios looks to gain out of this if indeed he is doing anything other than observing father’s wishes and complete lack of faith in us... Please let me know of any other requests he makes of you?”
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It was not as if Achilleas didn’t feel bad about the hand that been dealt to his cousins. He did, he felt guilty for having stepped into the role that Stephanos had been so recently pushed out of, he felt uncomfortable assuming a home in the place where Xene and Gianna had grown, where his Aunt had ruled. But what was he to do? Taengea was in desperate need of some stability, and if he could offer even a little of that then he would. They would need to work on ho they could bring Stephanos back when the time was right. When the Egyptians were not beating on their door.
Emilios was right into seeing this opportunity to strengthen the relationship between the two Mikaelidas lines, whatever motivation Fotios of Leventi might have had. He nodded absently, considered the matter closed.
When Emilios’ next question put him on the spot, Achilleas bumbled through it, and his brother’s ‘I am not one to judge’ only made him unhappier still. Was his conduct to be compared with his brother’s now? Much as the elder held some affection for his younger sibling, there was no denying that Achilleas had rolled his eyes enough about the other’s indiscretions. It made him uncomfortable indeed to think their behaviours comparable.
Likely because he already berated himself enough for how he had let things get so messy with Briseis. What he had intended just to be a casual and easy arrangement had ended up with roots wound deeper than he had realised. He’d ended it clumsily, and had surprised himself when he had missed Briseis once he was without her. The slip up the other day had just been the garnish atop it all.
Of course, Achilleas could not know what made his brother draw parallels. He couldn’t know that Emilios tried to find the truth of where Achilleas’ feelings towards Theodora lay. If he had of known, he might have told him it was none of his business. Or he might have ventured that he felt like he’d finally been gifted something he really wanted and that she had been a silver lining through the shadow of the past days. But such things were added to the secrets that already lay between the brothers.
Scowling into his wine, he was shaking his head when Emilios went on. “Don’t” he snapped, peevish and not liking the role reversal even as his brother observed it. And then he looked up sharply as the younger man went on, his gaze narrowing.
“Don’t be ridiculous?” he said, offended when Emilios mentioned fulfilling urges. “I wouldn’t dishonour Theodora like that. Just…” he reached for something that would be a palatable solution. The idea of having Briseis married off… well, it made him unaccountable angry. He didn’t want that, even though it would be best for the girl, wouldn’t it? A good life, away from the palati. A chance at her own marriage and a family? He pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Can you just sort it out?”
For once, this was not a responsibility that Achilleas wished to shoulder. Atop everything else, he couldn’t think about it. And there was a niggling voice that he wanted to scream at to shut up that suggested he wasn’t the most rational when it came to the girl from Maliania either. It sounded a lot like Krysto’s voice when he thought about it. The new King decided they had talked on it enough.
“I want to know what Lord Fotios looks to gain out of this if indeed he is doing anything other than observing father’s wishes and complete lack of faith in us... Please let me know of any other requests he makes of you?”
It was not as if Achilleas didn’t feel bad about the hand that been dealt to his cousins. He did, he felt guilty for having stepped into the role that Stephanos had been so recently pushed out of, he felt uncomfortable assuming a home in the place where Xene and Gianna had grown, where his Aunt had ruled. But what was he to do? Taengea was in desperate need of some stability, and if he could offer even a little of that then he would. They would need to work on ho they could bring Stephanos back when the time was right. When the Egyptians were not beating on their door.
Emilios was right into seeing this opportunity to strengthen the relationship between the two Mikaelidas lines, whatever motivation Fotios of Leventi might have had. He nodded absently, considered the matter closed.
When Emilios’ next question put him on the spot, Achilleas bumbled through it, and his brother’s ‘I am not one to judge’ only made him unhappier still. Was his conduct to be compared with his brother’s now? Much as the elder held some affection for his younger sibling, there was no denying that Achilleas had rolled his eyes enough about the other’s indiscretions. It made him uncomfortable indeed to think their behaviours comparable.
Likely because he already berated himself enough for how he had let things get so messy with Briseis. What he had intended just to be a casual and easy arrangement had ended up with roots wound deeper than he had realised. He’d ended it clumsily, and had surprised himself when he had missed Briseis once he was without her. The slip up the other day had just been the garnish atop it all.
Of course, Achilleas could not know what made his brother draw parallels. He couldn’t know that Emilios tried to find the truth of where Achilleas’ feelings towards Theodora lay. If he had of known, he might have told him it was none of his business. Or he might have ventured that he felt like he’d finally been gifted something he really wanted and that she had been a silver lining through the shadow of the past days. But such things were added to the secrets that already lay between the brothers.
Scowling into his wine, he was shaking his head when Emilios went on. “Don’t” he snapped, peevish and not liking the role reversal even as his brother observed it. And then he looked up sharply as the younger man went on, his gaze narrowing.
“Don’t be ridiculous?” he said, offended when Emilios mentioned fulfilling urges. “I wouldn’t dishonour Theodora like that. Just…” he reached for something that would be a palatable solution. The idea of having Briseis married off… well, it made him unaccountable angry. He didn’t want that, even though it would be best for the girl, wouldn’t it? A good life, away from the palati. A chance at her own marriage and a family? He pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Can you just sort it out?”
For once, this was not a responsibility that Achilleas wished to shoulder. Atop everything else, he couldn’t think about it. And there was a niggling voice that he wanted to scream at to shut up that suggested he wasn’t the most rational when it came to the girl from Maliania either. It sounded a lot like Krysto’s voice when he thought about it. The new King decided they had talked on it enough.
“I want to know what Lord Fotios looks to gain out of this if indeed he is doing anything other than observing father’s wishes and complete lack of faith in us... Please let me know of any other requests he makes of you?”
He was glad that his brother seemed to trust his judgment on this matter. Emilios knew that his brother hadn’t always thought he was the best in a tough place. He was much like Stephanos-- the second born who did what he wished. Responsibility had not been his thing, at least not from a social standpoint. Of his unit, he was an excellent commander-- willing to try risky operations that seemed to always have good outcomes. He made choices that others might not, and while he was unconventional, he got the job done. And it seemed like his brother was willing to trust his military time to provide him insight for what he would be doing as regent.
Yes, it might not have been the choices others would have made for the cousins, but it seemed right. And if there was a chance to reunite the family, then they would need it. This war was only the first test of the strength of the Mikaelidas line. The worst, really, was yet to come.
He really was grinning more than he should have, but it was mostly to make his brother even more uncomfortable. Emilios had spent his whole life trying to clean up his own messes (the most recent had him flailing), but to have his perfect brother doing the same things he was just made him happier. Achilleas was human, after all. There was something in the way he looked that Emilios almost pitied. His brother had always seemed so stern and emotionless when it came to women. Business first, then pleasure. So for him to ask his brother to look after her must have meant that it had gone somewhere.
And, if he was being honest with himself, it made his mission easier. Perhaps his heart was already claimed. Perhaps his marriage was just political. If there were the case, he would feel less guilty about his feelings for Theo. The use of the word ‘dishonor’ only made it more apparent to him that the emotional connection between husband and wife was limited. After all, wouldn’t you be more concerned about someone you cared for feelings and not for their honor? He may have been seeing it exactly as he wanted to, but it was hard to deny that there seemed to be a lack of attachment.
Smiling, he simply nodded to his brother. “It shall be dealt with, brother. I believe I owe you that after years of picking up the pieces of my shame.” Well, what would have been shame if he had felt it for his transgressions. Instead, he had always felt like he was allowed to do as he wished. He could see his brother’s lover safely away, accessible should he see the need to seek her out. “You worry about coming back-- I don’t think the kingdom could handle me on the throne on a permanent basis.” It was as sentimental as he could get, hoping that his brother knew just how worried he would truly be about him. While they hadn’t been close, he still loved his brother.
His last request, that he let him know of anything else, would have to be ignored-- there was no way that he was telling his brother of what the man knew. Or of what he’d done. “I shall.” He said simply, knowing that if there was anything else that came up, he would certainly let his brother know.
He wasn’t in much of a hurry to leave, enjoying the company of his brother, knowing it would be a long time before they were able to speak face to face again. He wondered how long, really. So they drank wine and ate the small meal, the conversation shifting from political to strategic, moving from the chairs back to the maps. While Achilleas has the more structured mind, Emilios offered creativity, which was just as important for war. The two talked well into the dark about the plans for both the homefront and abroad. By the time Emilios finally left, he was warm with wine and a bit sad-- he hoped this was not the last time they spoke like this.
As much as he wanted Theo, his brother was blood. And he would not know how to live in a world that did not have Achilleas in it as well.
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He was glad that his brother seemed to trust his judgment on this matter. Emilios knew that his brother hadn’t always thought he was the best in a tough place. He was much like Stephanos-- the second born who did what he wished. Responsibility had not been his thing, at least not from a social standpoint. Of his unit, he was an excellent commander-- willing to try risky operations that seemed to always have good outcomes. He made choices that others might not, and while he was unconventional, he got the job done. And it seemed like his brother was willing to trust his military time to provide him insight for what he would be doing as regent.
Yes, it might not have been the choices others would have made for the cousins, but it seemed right. And if there was a chance to reunite the family, then they would need it. This war was only the first test of the strength of the Mikaelidas line. The worst, really, was yet to come.
He really was grinning more than he should have, but it was mostly to make his brother even more uncomfortable. Emilios had spent his whole life trying to clean up his own messes (the most recent had him flailing), but to have his perfect brother doing the same things he was just made him happier. Achilleas was human, after all. There was something in the way he looked that Emilios almost pitied. His brother had always seemed so stern and emotionless when it came to women. Business first, then pleasure. So for him to ask his brother to look after her must have meant that it had gone somewhere.
And, if he was being honest with himself, it made his mission easier. Perhaps his heart was already claimed. Perhaps his marriage was just political. If there were the case, he would feel less guilty about his feelings for Theo. The use of the word ‘dishonor’ only made it more apparent to him that the emotional connection between husband and wife was limited. After all, wouldn’t you be more concerned about someone you cared for feelings and not for their honor? He may have been seeing it exactly as he wanted to, but it was hard to deny that there seemed to be a lack of attachment.
Smiling, he simply nodded to his brother. “It shall be dealt with, brother. I believe I owe you that after years of picking up the pieces of my shame.” Well, what would have been shame if he had felt it for his transgressions. Instead, he had always felt like he was allowed to do as he wished. He could see his brother’s lover safely away, accessible should he see the need to seek her out. “You worry about coming back-- I don’t think the kingdom could handle me on the throne on a permanent basis.” It was as sentimental as he could get, hoping that his brother knew just how worried he would truly be about him. While they hadn’t been close, he still loved his brother.
His last request, that he let him know of anything else, would have to be ignored-- there was no way that he was telling his brother of what the man knew. Or of what he’d done. “I shall.” He said simply, knowing that if there was anything else that came up, he would certainly let his brother know.
He wasn’t in much of a hurry to leave, enjoying the company of his brother, knowing it would be a long time before they were able to speak face to face again. He wondered how long, really. So they drank wine and ate the small meal, the conversation shifting from political to strategic, moving from the chairs back to the maps. While Achilleas has the more structured mind, Emilios offered creativity, which was just as important for war. The two talked well into the dark about the plans for both the homefront and abroad. By the time Emilios finally left, he was warm with wine and a bit sad-- he hoped this was not the last time they spoke like this.
As much as he wanted Theo, his brother was blood. And he would not know how to live in a world that did not have Achilleas in it as well.
He was glad that his brother seemed to trust his judgment on this matter. Emilios knew that his brother hadn’t always thought he was the best in a tough place. He was much like Stephanos-- the second born who did what he wished. Responsibility had not been his thing, at least not from a social standpoint. Of his unit, he was an excellent commander-- willing to try risky operations that seemed to always have good outcomes. He made choices that others might not, and while he was unconventional, he got the job done. And it seemed like his brother was willing to trust his military time to provide him insight for what he would be doing as regent.
Yes, it might not have been the choices others would have made for the cousins, but it seemed right. And if there was a chance to reunite the family, then they would need it. This war was only the first test of the strength of the Mikaelidas line. The worst, really, was yet to come.
He really was grinning more than he should have, but it was mostly to make his brother even more uncomfortable. Emilios had spent his whole life trying to clean up his own messes (the most recent had him flailing), but to have his perfect brother doing the same things he was just made him happier. Achilleas was human, after all. There was something in the way he looked that Emilios almost pitied. His brother had always seemed so stern and emotionless when it came to women. Business first, then pleasure. So for him to ask his brother to look after her must have meant that it had gone somewhere.
And, if he was being honest with himself, it made his mission easier. Perhaps his heart was already claimed. Perhaps his marriage was just political. If there were the case, he would feel less guilty about his feelings for Theo. The use of the word ‘dishonor’ only made it more apparent to him that the emotional connection between husband and wife was limited. After all, wouldn’t you be more concerned about someone you cared for feelings and not for their honor? He may have been seeing it exactly as he wanted to, but it was hard to deny that there seemed to be a lack of attachment.
Smiling, he simply nodded to his brother. “It shall be dealt with, brother. I believe I owe you that after years of picking up the pieces of my shame.” Well, what would have been shame if he had felt it for his transgressions. Instead, he had always felt like he was allowed to do as he wished. He could see his brother’s lover safely away, accessible should he see the need to seek her out. “You worry about coming back-- I don’t think the kingdom could handle me on the throne on a permanent basis.” It was as sentimental as he could get, hoping that his brother knew just how worried he would truly be about him. While they hadn’t been close, he still loved his brother.
His last request, that he let him know of anything else, would have to be ignored-- there was no way that he was telling his brother of what the man knew. Or of what he’d done. “I shall.” He said simply, knowing that if there was anything else that came up, he would certainly let his brother know.
He wasn’t in much of a hurry to leave, enjoying the company of his brother, knowing it would be a long time before they were able to speak face to face again. He wondered how long, really. So they drank wine and ate the small meal, the conversation shifting from political to strategic, moving from the chairs back to the maps. While Achilleas has the more structured mind, Emilios offered creativity, which was just as important for war. The two talked well into the dark about the plans for both the homefront and abroad. By the time Emilios finally left, he was warm with wine and a bit sad-- he hoped this was not the last time they spoke like this.
As much as he wanted Theo, his brother was blood. And he would not know how to live in a world that did not have Achilleas in it as well.