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The Kotas manor was one that Vangelis knew with every figure of his being. As sure as he knew the flecks of colour in his eyes or the way his fingers imprinted onto the leather binding around the hilt of his swords. He knew where each groove in the floor, each dent in the wooden or stone walls came from. Whether it was children gallivanting around the corridors at a pace unsuitable for indoors, or if the damage pre-dated he and his siblings. That little burn mark atop one of the chests in the main corridor of the living quarters came when Silas had balanced a candle there, attempting to look inside and had tipped it over - aged five. One of the brackets that held torches aloft at night was bent a little lower than others despite efforts to correct it. That had been Yiannis swinging from it like a monkey.
Vangelis, like his parents apparently, had never seen fit to repair or change the home back to its original state. Whilst many of them lived in a state of transition, always arriving or leaving for war or state affairs, it was as if the minor damages here and there were evidence of their presence. Of the fact that they had all - even if they didn't see one another as often as they might like - had lived here and lived here together. Vangelis had never thought to fill in or cover up that proof of familial existence. Instead, he actually liked the fact that their home was not one of regal pomp and circumstance but something a little battered that held history and context. He knew that, as generations moved on, he himself would add to that legacy just as Zanon had with Dion - a young and exuberant boy who had already made his marks, quite literally upon the Kotas manor.
Vangelis knowledge of the place, regardless of nostalgia and sentimentality, allowed him to walk it practically with his eyes closed. In the dark or in the light, he knew every nook and cranny, every texture and surface. He also knew every servant. Every face. He knew exactly who was in the employ of his nearest and dearest at any one time, even if he had been out to sea for many months of conflict. Whilst he was unobservant of certain social conformities or out of the loop on some of his relatives' more personal lives, he made a personal note to understand the home and homestead in itself. As best he could anyway.
Which is why, he knew that the young servant who came towards him down the corridor was a woman normally entirely unflappable. And whilst her tone was calm and she didn't give the appearance of agitation, there was a splotch of colour upon each of her cheeks that betrayed a nervousness or a harried desire to see her business concluded. A conclusion that appeared to only be possible via himself.
"Your Highness..." The young woman dropped her frame in a polite curtsey that Vangelis reacted little to. He had gotten used to the term again now that it had been several days since his father had been proven alive. "If you please, sir, there's a young man at the front gates requesting entry. He says that he is here for the Lady Olympia. He looks as if he is a soldier and I did not wish to let him in without..." She offered a vague gesture of her hand, suggesting that she need not finished the sentence.
With a nod, Vangelis spoke quickly and succinctly, allowing the pressure of responsibility to be lifted from the woman's shoulders.
"I will see to it now."
And immediately, he turned towards the nearest staircase that would send him down into the main foyer of the household and to the main front doors of the manor. Pushing the panels wide, despite the weight of such thick carpentry, Vangelis stepped out into the sunshine that was a little too bright for comfort after the cosy and dim lighting of a home almost entirely entrenched in mountainside.
Just as the young woman - whose name Vangelis was struggling to remember despite his memory recalling her disposition easily enough - had said, there was a young man in armour and wearing weapons standing by the front gates arguing with one of the Kotas guardsman who were equipped to keep those without permission off of the Kotas grounds.
"What exactly is the issue here?" Vangelis stated in a booming voice that crossed over the stone courtyard, bouncing from walls and floor, and stilled the men dressed in his family's livery into upright attention. They each bowed in respect to their crown prince and then turned to look to the young man that had caused the disturbance.
"He says he wishes to see the Lady Olympia." One of them offered, the information no different than what Vangelis himself had already been told. "But he will not give his name nor purpose, Your Highness..."
Vangelis' eyes narrowed as he turned to assess the gentleman who still smelt of salt from the sea air, wondering if he had come that very morning from Taengea or if he was simply a dock worker looking to offer his flatteries to a recently arrived noble lady.
"Who are you and what business do you have here?" Vangelis asked. Given the circumstances in which the Queen had parted from her homeland, Vangelis could understand the man being shifty about whom he spoke his true intentions to. But, if he meant to see Olympia, Stephanos or any of the guests beneath the Kotas roof, he would oblige him at least with an explanation.
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The Kotas manor was one that Vangelis knew with every figure of his being. As sure as he knew the flecks of colour in his eyes or the way his fingers imprinted onto the leather binding around the hilt of his swords. He knew where each groove in the floor, each dent in the wooden or stone walls came from. Whether it was children gallivanting around the corridors at a pace unsuitable for indoors, or if the damage pre-dated he and his siblings. That little burn mark atop one of the chests in the main corridor of the living quarters came when Silas had balanced a candle there, attempting to look inside and had tipped it over - aged five. One of the brackets that held torches aloft at night was bent a little lower than others despite efforts to correct it. That had been Yiannis swinging from it like a monkey.
Vangelis, like his parents apparently, had never seen fit to repair or change the home back to its original state. Whilst many of them lived in a state of transition, always arriving or leaving for war or state affairs, it was as if the minor damages here and there were evidence of their presence. Of the fact that they had all - even if they didn't see one another as often as they might like - had lived here and lived here together. Vangelis had never thought to fill in or cover up that proof of familial existence. Instead, he actually liked the fact that their home was not one of regal pomp and circumstance but something a little battered that held history and context. He knew that, as generations moved on, he himself would add to that legacy just as Zanon had with Dion - a young and exuberant boy who had already made his marks, quite literally upon the Kotas manor.
Vangelis knowledge of the place, regardless of nostalgia and sentimentality, allowed him to walk it practically with his eyes closed. In the dark or in the light, he knew every nook and cranny, every texture and surface. He also knew every servant. Every face. He knew exactly who was in the employ of his nearest and dearest at any one time, even if he had been out to sea for many months of conflict. Whilst he was unobservant of certain social conformities or out of the loop on some of his relatives' more personal lives, he made a personal note to understand the home and homestead in itself. As best he could anyway.
Which is why, he knew that the young servant who came towards him down the corridor was a woman normally entirely unflappable. And whilst her tone was calm and she didn't give the appearance of agitation, there was a splotch of colour upon each of her cheeks that betrayed a nervousness or a harried desire to see her business concluded. A conclusion that appeared to only be possible via himself.
"Your Highness..." The young woman dropped her frame in a polite curtsey that Vangelis reacted little to. He had gotten used to the term again now that it had been several days since his father had been proven alive. "If you please, sir, there's a young man at the front gates requesting entry. He says that he is here for the Lady Olympia. He looks as if he is a soldier and I did not wish to let him in without..." She offered a vague gesture of her hand, suggesting that she need not finished the sentence.
With a nod, Vangelis spoke quickly and succinctly, allowing the pressure of responsibility to be lifted from the woman's shoulders.
"I will see to it now."
And immediately, he turned towards the nearest staircase that would send him down into the main foyer of the household and to the main front doors of the manor. Pushing the panels wide, despite the weight of such thick carpentry, Vangelis stepped out into the sunshine that was a little too bright for comfort after the cosy and dim lighting of a home almost entirely entrenched in mountainside.
Just as the young woman - whose name Vangelis was struggling to remember despite his memory recalling her disposition easily enough - had said, there was a young man in armour and wearing weapons standing by the front gates arguing with one of the Kotas guardsman who were equipped to keep those without permission off of the Kotas grounds.
"What exactly is the issue here?" Vangelis stated in a booming voice that crossed over the stone courtyard, bouncing from walls and floor, and stilled the men dressed in his family's livery into upright attention. They each bowed in respect to their crown prince and then turned to look to the young man that had caused the disturbance.
"He says he wishes to see the Lady Olympia." One of them offered, the information no different than what Vangelis himself had already been told. "But he will not give his name nor purpose, Your Highness..."
Vangelis' eyes narrowed as he turned to assess the gentleman who still smelt of salt from the sea air, wondering if he had come that very morning from Taengea or if he was simply a dock worker looking to offer his flatteries to a recently arrived noble lady.
"Who are you and what business do you have here?" Vangelis asked. Given the circumstances in which the Queen had parted from her homeland, Vangelis could understand the man being shifty about whom he spoke his true intentions to. But, if he meant to see Olympia, Stephanos or any of the guests beneath the Kotas roof, he would oblige him at least with an explanation.
The Kotas manor was one that Vangelis knew with every figure of his being. As sure as he knew the flecks of colour in his eyes or the way his fingers imprinted onto the leather binding around the hilt of his swords. He knew where each groove in the floor, each dent in the wooden or stone walls came from. Whether it was children gallivanting around the corridors at a pace unsuitable for indoors, or if the damage pre-dated he and his siblings. That little burn mark atop one of the chests in the main corridor of the living quarters came when Silas had balanced a candle there, attempting to look inside and had tipped it over - aged five. One of the brackets that held torches aloft at night was bent a little lower than others despite efforts to correct it. That had been Yiannis swinging from it like a monkey.
Vangelis, like his parents apparently, had never seen fit to repair or change the home back to its original state. Whilst many of them lived in a state of transition, always arriving or leaving for war or state affairs, it was as if the minor damages here and there were evidence of their presence. Of the fact that they had all - even if they didn't see one another as often as they might like - had lived here and lived here together. Vangelis had never thought to fill in or cover up that proof of familial existence. Instead, he actually liked the fact that their home was not one of regal pomp and circumstance but something a little battered that held history and context. He knew that, as generations moved on, he himself would add to that legacy just as Zanon had with Dion - a young and exuberant boy who had already made his marks, quite literally upon the Kotas manor.
Vangelis knowledge of the place, regardless of nostalgia and sentimentality, allowed him to walk it practically with his eyes closed. In the dark or in the light, he knew every nook and cranny, every texture and surface. He also knew every servant. Every face. He knew exactly who was in the employ of his nearest and dearest at any one time, even if he had been out to sea for many months of conflict. Whilst he was unobservant of certain social conformities or out of the loop on some of his relatives' more personal lives, he made a personal note to understand the home and homestead in itself. As best he could anyway.
Which is why, he knew that the young servant who came towards him down the corridor was a woman normally entirely unflappable. And whilst her tone was calm and she didn't give the appearance of agitation, there was a splotch of colour upon each of her cheeks that betrayed a nervousness or a harried desire to see her business concluded. A conclusion that appeared to only be possible via himself.
"Your Highness..." The young woman dropped her frame in a polite curtsey that Vangelis reacted little to. He had gotten used to the term again now that it had been several days since his father had been proven alive. "If you please, sir, there's a young man at the front gates requesting entry. He says that he is here for the Lady Olympia. He looks as if he is a soldier and I did not wish to let him in without..." She offered a vague gesture of her hand, suggesting that she need not finished the sentence.
With a nod, Vangelis spoke quickly and succinctly, allowing the pressure of responsibility to be lifted from the woman's shoulders.
"I will see to it now."
And immediately, he turned towards the nearest staircase that would send him down into the main foyer of the household and to the main front doors of the manor. Pushing the panels wide, despite the weight of such thick carpentry, Vangelis stepped out into the sunshine that was a little too bright for comfort after the cosy and dim lighting of a home almost entirely entrenched in mountainside.
Just as the young woman - whose name Vangelis was struggling to remember despite his memory recalling her disposition easily enough - had said, there was a young man in armour and wearing weapons standing by the front gates arguing with one of the Kotas guardsman who were equipped to keep those without permission off of the Kotas grounds.
"What exactly is the issue here?" Vangelis stated in a booming voice that crossed over the stone courtyard, bouncing from walls and floor, and stilled the men dressed in his family's livery into upright attention. They each bowed in respect to their crown prince and then turned to look to the young man that had caused the disturbance.
"He says he wishes to see the Lady Olympia." One of them offered, the information no different than what Vangelis himself had already been told. "But he will not give his name nor purpose, Your Highness..."
Vangelis' eyes narrowed as he turned to assess the gentleman who still smelt of salt from the sea air, wondering if he had come that very morning from Taengea or if he was simply a dock worker looking to offer his flatteries to a recently arrived noble lady.
"Who are you and what business do you have here?" Vangelis asked. Given the circumstances in which the Queen had parted from her homeland, Vangelis could understand the man being shifty about whom he spoke his true intentions to. But, if he meant to see Olympia, Stephanos or any of the guests beneath the Kotas roof, he would oblige him at least with an explanation.
Exhaustion was barely an adequate way of describing just how tired he really was. But after the journey he had, it was difficult for him to come up with a word that would better describe his disposition. The most prominent feeling was the sharp ache with every step, one that had started the day just at his knee and now was felt all throughout his lower body. And the slight chill in the air made it worse. He hoped that his arrival meant that he would be able to find himself a warm bath, perhaps a bit of wine to ease his pain. But he knew he had obligations to see to first, and that meant tracing the steps of the royal family to the Kotas manor.
Where he was met with opposition the moment he arrived at the gates.
There was no real surprise in this. After all, word of the death of the King had reached his ears the moment he made shore. And, of course, the fact that the ship had shown up on his own home shores had only meant that he had heard of it sooner. His connections within Nethisa meant that he was well informed of what had taken place, and what it had meant for the Thanasi family. But as far as Alastair was concerned, it was none of his business at this point. No, he was far more worried about Olympia and her unborn child, of the sister she seemed to care too much for, and of the husband who was determined to break her heart.
He shouldn’t have been arguing with the man at the gate, and he could only blame exhaustion for that. Had he fully has his wits about him, he would have gone to the servants entrance for a bit of an easier in. Instead, he was trying to explain that he would only speak with the Mikaelidas family and that if one of them was produced, his intent would be clear. He did not realize how invested the Kotas family seemed to be on protecting them until the familiar face of Vangelis of Kotas appeared. Alastair looked down at his clothing, dirty from travel with staff in hand, and sighed. He was currently not fit to see a king, and yet, here they were. He would have to explain himself to him before he would be allowed in.
Unusual, but he was sure that this would end in his favor. For while he had never met Vangelis outright, his presence as a shadow to Olympia meant that he may be recognized as such. He bowed, ”My King, my name is Alastair of Nethisa. I have been in the employment of the King of Taengea since his ascension to the throne, more specifically as the personal guard of Queen Olympia. I have both news and a desire to return to my post, Your majesty, so long as you would permit me to do so.” Standing, he leaned heavily against his staff, unable to hide the pain of his former injury. But perhaps, with the information now at hand, he would be able to return to his post and find rest shortly after.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Exhaustion was barely an adequate way of describing just how tired he really was. But after the journey he had, it was difficult for him to come up with a word that would better describe his disposition. The most prominent feeling was the sharp ache with every step, one that had started the day just at his knee and now was felt all throughout his lower body. And the slight chill in the air made it worse. He hoped that his arrival meant that he would be able to find himself a warm bath, perhaps a bit of wine to ease his pain. But he knew he had obligations to see to first, and that meant tracing the steps of the royal family to the Kotas manor.
Where he was met with opposition the moment he arrived at the gates.
There was no real surprise in this. After all, word of the death of the King had reached his ears the moment he made shore. And, of course, the fact that the ship had shown up on his own home shores had only meant that he had heard of it sooner. His connections within Nethisa meant that he was well informed of what had taken place, and what it had meant for the Thanasi family. But as far as Alastair was concerned, it was none of his business at this point. No, he was far more worried about Olympia and her unborn child, of the sister she seemed to care too much for, and of the husband who was determined to break her heart.
He shouldn’t have been arguing with the man at the gate, and he could only blame exhaustion for that. Had he fully has his wits about him, he would have gone to the servants entrance for a bit of an easier in. Instead, he was trying to explain that he would only speak with the Mikaelidas family and that if one of them was produced, his intent would be clear. He did not realize how invested the Kotas family seemed to be on protecting them until the familiar face of Vangelis of Kotas appeared. Alastair looked down at his clothing, dirty from travel with staff in hand, and sighed. He was currently not fit to see a king, and yet, here they were. He would have to explain himself to him before he would be allowed in.
Unusual, but he was sure that this would end in his favor. For while he had never met Vangelis outright, his presence as a shadow to Olympia meant that he may be recognized as such. He bowed, ”My King, my name is Alastair of Nethisa. I have been in the employment of the King of Taengea since his ascension to the throne, more specifically as the personal guard of Queen Olympia. I have both news and a desire to return to my post, Your majesty, so long as you would permit me to do so.” Standing, he leaned heavily against his staff, unable to hide the pain of his former injury. But perhaps, with the information now at hand, he would be able to return to his post and find rest shortly after.
Exhaustion was barely an adequate way of describing just how tired he really was. But after the journey he had, it was difficult for him to come up with a word that would better describe his disposition. The most prominent feeling was the sharp ache with every step, one that had started the day just at his knee and now was felt all throughout his lower body. And the slight chill in the air made it worse. He hoped that his arrival meant that he would be able to find himself a warm bath, perhaps a bit of wine to ease his pain. But he knew he had obligations to see to first, and that meant tracing the steps of the royal family to the Kotas manor.
Where he was met with opposition the moment he arrived at the gates.
There was no real surprise in this. After all, word of the death of the King had reached his ears the moment he made shore. And, of course, the fact that the ship had shown up on his own home shores had only meant that he had heard of it sooner. His connections within Nethisa meant that he was well informed of what had taken place, and what it had meant for the Thanasi family. But as far as Alastair was concerned, it was none of his business at this point. No, he was far more worried about Olympia and her unborn child, of the sister she seemed to care too much for, and of the husband who was determined to break her heart.
He shouldn’t have been arguing with the man at the gate, and he could only blame exhaustion for that. Had he fully has his wits about him, he would have gone to the servants entrance for a bit of an easier in. Instead, he was trying to explain that he would only speak with the Mikaelidas family and that if one of them was produced, his intent would be clear. He did not realize how invested the Kotas family seemed to be on protecting them until the familiar face of Vangelis of Kotas appeared. Alastair looked down at his clothing, dirty from travel with staff in hand, and sighed. He was currently not fit to see a king, and yet, here they were. He would have to explain himself to him before he would be allowed in.
Unusual, but he was sure that this would end in his favor. For while he had never met Vangelis outright, his presence as a shadow to Olympia meant that he may be recognized as such. He bowed, ”My King, my name is Alastair of Nethisa. I have been in the employment of the King of Taengea since his ascension to the throne, more specifically as the personal guard of Queen Olympia. I have both news and a desire to return to my post, Your majesty, so long as you would permit me to do so.” Standing, he leaned heavily against his staff, unable to hide the pain of his former injury. But perhaps, with the information now at hand, he would be able to return to his post and find rest shortly after.
Vangelis was not a gullible man but neither was he one of suspicion. Had the man at the gate wished to speak with him directly and only him, he would have permitted him through. The single word that he was to be trusted was enough for Vangelis until actions on his part might prove otherwise. That was simply how it was for Vangelis. All were to be permitted a semblance of trust and at the loss of that trust, they were removed from his circle on a permanent basis.
Yet, this particular individual did not wish to see him but one of his guests - a man and woman that he had pledged to protect here in Colchis from any attempts against them. And whilst a young man, who openly gave his name, was from Colchis and sported what appeared to be a dodgy knee was an interesting choice for a would-be assassin, Vangelis wasn't interested in applying his own optimistic (or perhaps devil may care) attitude of strangers to the safety risks of those his family harboured. As such, he wasn't quick to permit the man beyond the gates.
"You are a Colchian, yet you are in the employ of Taengean royalty?" Vangelis questioned, one brow raising as he turned to murmur an instruction to the nearest guard, ordering him to bring Lord Stephanos to the gate. If anyone could identify the man before him as truthful in his claimed identity it would be the man who previously hired him to protect his wife.
He was tempted to ask if the man could provide any proof of his claims, for surely the man didn't expect to just be allowed to waltz onto the Kotas estate, via any potential entrance - let alone now that his father's body had been discovered and the monarch was in its fragile and vulnerable state of flux.
But he restrained the flippant comment upon his tongue for being childish, internally advising himself that Stephanos would be able to clear the issue up in no time, as soon as he arrived. Instead, he simply waited for an explanation to his other question - one posed mostly from curiosity - a hand rested on the pommel of the sword and his hip and his sympathy for the man's clearly painful leg non-existent.
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Vangelis was not a gullible man but neither was he one of suspicion. Had the man at the gate wished to speak with him directly and only him, he would have permitted him through. The single word that he was to be trusted was enough for Vangelis until actions on his part might prove otherwise. That was simply how it was for Vangelis. All were to be permitted a semblance of trust and at the loss of that trust, they were removed from his circle on a permanent basis.
Yet, this particular individual did not wish to see him but one of his guests - a man and woman that he had pledged to protect here in Colchis from any attempts against them. And whilst a young man, who openly gave his name, was from Colchis and sported what appeared to be a dodgy knee was an interesting choice for a would-be assassin, Vangelis wasn't interested in applying his own optimistic (or perhaps devil may care) attitude of strangers to the safety risks of those his family harboured. As such, he wasn't quick to permit the man beyond the gates.
"You are a Colchian, yet you are in the employ of Taengean royalty?" Vangelis questioned, one brow raising as he turned to murmur an instruction to the nearest guard, ordering him to bring Lord Stephanos to the gate. If anyone could identify the man before him as truthful in his claimed identity it would be the man who previously hired him to protect his wife.
He was tempted to ask if the man could provide any proof of his claims, for surely the man didn't expect to just be allowed to waltz onto the Kotas estate, via any potential entrance - let alone now that his father's body had been discovered and the monarch was in its fragile and vulnerable state of flux.
But he restrained the flippant comment upon his tongue for being childish, internally advising himself that Stephanos would be able to clear the issue up in no time, as soon as he arrived. Instead, he simply waited for an explanation to his other question - one posed mostly from curiosity - a hand rested on the pommel of the sword and his hip and his sympathy for the man's clearly painful leg non-existent.
Vangelis was not a gullible man but neither was he one of suspicion. Had the man at the gate wished to speak with him directly and only him, he would have permitted him through. The single word that he was to be trusted was enough for Vangelis until actions on his part might prove otherwise. That was simply how it was for Vangelis. All were to be permitted a semblance of trust and at the loss of that trust, they were removed from his circle on a permanent basis.
Yet, this particular individual did not wish to see him but one of his guests - a man and woman that he had pledged to protect here in Colchis from any attempts against them. And whilst a young man, who openly gave his name, was from Colchis and sported what appeared to be a dodgy knee was an interesting choice for a would-be assassin, Vangelis wasn't interested in applying his own optimistic (or perhaps devil may care) attitude of strangers to the safety risks of those his family harboured. As such, he wasn't quick to permit the man beyond the gates.
"You are a Colchian, yet you are in the employ of Taengean royalty?" Vangelis questioned, one brow raising as he turned to murmur an instruction to the nearest guard, ordering him to bring Lord Stephanos to the gate. If anyone could identify the man before him as truthful in his claimed identity it would be the man who previously hired him to protect his wife.
He was tempted to ask if the man could provide any proof of his claims, for surely the man didn't expect to just be allowed to waltz onto the Kotas estate, via any potential entrance - let alone now that his father's body had been discovered and the monarch was in its fragile and vulnerable state of flux.
But he restrained the flippant comment upon his tongue for being childish, internally advising himself that Stephanos would be able to clear the issue up in no time, as soon as he arrived. Instead, he simply waited for an explanation to his other question - one posed mostly from curiosity - a hand rested on the pommel of the sword and his hip and his sympathy for the man's clearly painful leg non-existent.
There was little to prove just who he was loyal to, and even his name would do little to calm the mind of anyone he encountered. He was aware of what had happened in his province, and no one would know that he held little loyalty to the area. As a sell sword, it was common that their kind was only loyal to the person who paid them the highest amount. But for Alastair, there was a certain set of morals he also stuck to. He wasn’t an assassin, who killed because someone wanted death for an enemy.
He was a protector of the weak, first and foremost. The jobs he took were strictly for protection, and the lives he took were only those who threatened his charge. And he was well-known for that in most circles.
Looking at the King, there was little he could say to explain himself. Since it wasn’t as if he had been around the Queen much to have seen him back in the city. His shoulders lifted in a shrug at his question, not because he thought it was silly, but because he had to find a way to survive how he could. ”I used to be a part of the 5th Phalanx, Your Highness. Discharged with a battle wound. I cannot fight in wars, but I can still defend. King Stephanos hired me shortly after the death of his family, specifically to protect the Queen.”
There would most likely be a call to question, to find someone who could authenticate his story enough to let him in. But Alastair was very aware of the few people who knew of his work. Only Olympia herself or Stephanos, or maybe Selene, would be able to prove his story. ”If her sister is in residence, she would know of me.” They both had tried to plan through an escape for the pair, and while he hadn’t liked her plan of attempting a more distraction with desire, he could do little to convince her otherwise.
He was relieved when the then Prince of Colchis had taken over, allowing him to simply provide cover for a more skilled man to whisk the two off to safety. But the two hadn’t much of a chance to meet, so he was hoping that the Leventi lady may be asked of him so that he could be allowed in.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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There was little to prove just who he was loyal to, and even his name would do little to calm the mind of anyone he encountered. He was aware of what had happened in his province, and no one would know that he held little loyalty to the area. As a sell sword, it was common that their kind was only loyal to the person who paid them the highest amount. But for Alastair, there was a certain set of morals he also stuck to. He wasn’t an assassin, who killed because someone wanted death for an enemy.
He was a protector of the weak, first and foremost. The jobs he took were strictly for protection, and the lives he took were only those who threatened his charge. And he was well-known for that in most circles.
Looking at the King, there was little he could say to explain himself. Since it wasn’t as if he had been around the Queen much to have seen him back in the city. His shoulders lifted in a shrug at his question, not because he thought it was silly, but because he had to find a way to survive how he could. ”I used to be a part of the 5th Phalanx, Your Highness. Discharged with a battle wound. I cannot fight in wars, but I can still defend. King Stephanos hired me shortly after the death of his family, specifically to protect the Queen.”
There would most likely be a call to question, to find someone who could authenticate his story enough to let him in. But Alastair was very aware of the few people who knew of his work. Only Olympia herself or Stephanos, or maybe Selene, would be able to prove his story. ”If her sister is in residence, she would know of me.” They both had tried to plan through an escape for the pair, and while he hadn’t liked her plan of attempting a more distraction with desire, he could do little to convince her otherwise.
He was relieved when the then Prince of Colchis had taken over, allowing him to simply provide cover for a more skilled man to whisk the two off to safety. But the two hadn’t much of a chance to meet, so he was hoping that the Leventi lady may be asked of him so that he could be allowed in.
There was little to prove just who he was loyal to, and even his name would do little to calm the mind of anyone he encountered. He was aware of what had happened in his province, and no one would know that he held little loyalty to the area. As a sell sword, it was common that their kind was only loyal to the person who paid them the highest amount. But for Alastair, there was a certain set of morals he also stuck to. He wasn’t an assassin, who killed because someone wanted death for an enemy.
He was a protector of the weak, first and foremost. The jobs he took were strictly for protection, and the lives he took were only those who threatened his charge. And he was well-known for that in most circles.
Looking at the King, there was little he could say to explain himself. Since it wasn’t as if he had been around the Queen much to have seen him back in the city. His shoulders lifted in a shrug at his question, not because he thought it was silly, but because he had to find a way to survive how he could. ”I used to be a part of the 5th Phalanx, Your Highness. Discharged with a battle wound. I cannot fight in wars, but I can still defend. King Stephanos hired me shortly after the death of his family, specifically to protect the Queen.”
There would most likely be a call to question, to find someone who could authenticate his story enough to let him in. But Alastair was very aware of the few people who knew of his work. Only Olympia herself or Stephanos, or maybe Selene, would be able to prove his story. ”If her sister is in residence, she would know of me.” They both had tried to plan through an escape for the pair, and while he hadn’t liked her plan of attempting a more distraction with desire, he could do little to convince her otherwise.
He was relieved when the then Prince of Colchis had taken over, allowing him to simply provide cover for a more skilled man to whisk the two off to safety. But the two hadn’t much of a chance to meet, so he was hoping that the Leventi lady may be asked of him so that he could be allowed in.
Vangelis watched the man carefully. Whilst social ticks and hidden revelations of true intention were not his forte in noticing, he tried nonetheless to recognised any betraying factors in the Colchian's features. His argument made sense enough, tied into his clearly painful leg, and made use of those that were in Stephanos' confidence.
When the man mentioned Olympia's sister it was logical enough to assume that he meant the Lady Selene. Given that all of Olympia's other sisters were still in Taengea, appearing in public no doubt and ensuring that all were aware of their continued presence and loyalty to the new king.
Unsure whether to take such a comment as evidence of trust in the man - that he knew of the plans that had secreted Stephanos and his wife from the southern state; plans that included the Lady Selene - or whether he was a spy attempting to confirm where the exiled monarch and his companions had ended up, Vangelis was not yet willing to yield him entry into the manor.
Moving solely on his gut instinct and the... essence perhaps... that he read in the man before him, Vangelis turned to the nearest guard with a simple nod upon his words. Sometimes, leadership meant being able to make a decision when there was no foundation of strong evidence in either direction. And in this, Vangelis simply trusted his reading of the stranger. Whether it was instinct, assurance or real intuition, he did not know. But the man came across as truthful.
The nod he gave to his guardsman was a simple affair that could be read by those who knew the new King well. It was a basic instruction that stated that, should Stephanos not be able to be found, the Lady Selene would be a suitable alternative to be brought out to verify the man's identity. Vangelis would not allow her to step closer to the gates than his himself was positioned. And such a distance was outside of any short-range weapon.
Provided the man had no short bow hidden on his person somewhere...
"Surrender your weapons to the guards." Vangelis instructed without a shred of leniency in his tone. "You'll not set foot on Kotas land whilst armed, regardless of who you are."
Such an order was made to be followed and carried out whilst Vangelis’ men searched the manor and estate for the former king of Taengea or his sister-in-law and he remained at the gates, as stoic as a turnkey.
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Vangelis watched the man carefully. Whilst social ticks and hidden revelations of true intention were not his forte in noticing, he tried nonetheless to recognised any betraying factors in the Colchian's features. His argument made sense enough, tied into his clearly painful leg, and made use of those that were in Stephanos' confidence.
When the man mentioned Olympia's sister it was logical enough to assume that he meant the Lady Selene. Given that all of Olympia's other sisters were still in Taengea, appearing in public no doubt and ensuring that all were aware of their continued presence and loyalty to the new king.
Unsure whether to take such a comment as evidence of trust in the man - that he knew of the plans that had secreted Stephanos and his wife from the southern state; plans that included the Lady Selene - or whether he was a spy attempting to confirm where the exiled monarch and his companions had ended up, Vangelis was not yet willing to yield him entry into the manor.
Moving solely on his gut instinct and the... essence perhaps... that he read in the man before him, Vangelis turned to the nearest guard with a simple nod upon his words. Sometimes, leadership meant being able to make a decision when there was no foundation of strong evidence in either direction. And in this, Vangelis simply trusted his reading of the stranger. Whether it was instinct, assurance or real intuition, he did not know. But the man came across as truthful.
The nod he gave to his guardsman was a simple affair that could be read by those who knew the new King well. It was a basic instruction that stated that, should Stephanos not be able to be found, the Lady Selene would be a suitable alternative to be brought out to verify the man's identity. Vangelis would not allow her to step closer to the gates than his himself was positioned. And such a distance was outside of any short-range weapon.
Provided the man had no short bow hidden on his person somewhere...
"Surrender your weapons to the guards." Vangelis instructed without a shred of leniency in his tone. "You'll not set foot on Kotas land whilst armed, regardless of who you are."
Such an order was made to be followed and carried out whilst Vangelis’ men searched the manor and estate for the former king of Taengea or his sister-in-law and he remained at the gates, as stoic as a turnkey.
Vangelis watched the man carefully. Whilst social ticks and hidden revelations of true intention were not his forte in noticing, he tried nonetheless to recognised any betraying factors in the Colchian's features. His argument made sense enough, tied into his clearly painful leg, and made use of those that were in Stephanos' confidence.
When the man mentioned Olympia's sister it was logical enough to assume that he meant the Lady Selene. Given that all of Olympia's other sisters were still in Taengea, appearing in public no doubt and ensuring that all were aware of their continued presence and loyalty to the new king.
Unsure whether to take such a comment as evidence of trust in the man - that he knew of the plans that had secreted Stephanos and his wife from the southern state; plans that included the Lady Selene - or whether he was a spy attempting to confirm where the exiled monarch and his companions had ended up, Vangelis was not yet willing to yield him entry into the manor.
Moving solely on his gut instinct and the... essence perhaps... that he read in the man before him, Vangelis turned to the nearest guard with a simple nod upon his words. Sometimes, leadership meant being able to make a decision when there was no foundation of strong evidence in either direction. And in this, Vangelis simply trusted his reading of the stranger. Whether it was instinct, assurance or real intuition, he did not know. But the man came across as truthful.
The nod he gave to his guardsman was a simple affair that could be read by those who knew the new King well. It was a basic instruction that stated that, should Stephanos not be able to be found, the Lady Selene would be a suitable alternative to be brought out to verify the man's identity. Vangelis would not allow her to step closer to the gates than his himself was positioned. And such a distance was outside of any short-range weapon.
Provided the man had no short bow hidden on his person somewhere...
"Surrender your weapons to the guards." Vangelis instructed without a shred of leniency in his tone. "You'll not set foot on Kotas land whilst armed, regardless of who you are."
Such an order was made to be followed and carried out whilst Vangelis’ men searched the manor and estate for the former king of Taengea or his sister-in-law and he remained at the gates, as stoic as a turnkey.
The last thing she expected was to be summoned to the walls, of all places. And even more so, it was more shocking to be called upon by the King himself. As Selene was returning from her ride, it had been to the sight of a guard waiting by the door of the stables. Today’s ride had been particularly hard, and she was certain she looked as if she had been working the fields. Blue riding skirts, borrowed from the princess herself, were dirty at the hems. The braid that she had pulled her hair back into early that morning was long diminished from the neatness prior.
All in all, she knew that she looked like a wreck. And she was more than certain that she was not fit to meet with the king.
But that would be where she was headed.
Trying to settle herself into a better countenance, there was little she could do as they made their way towards the courtyard. She did not ask the guard what he wished, for she was certain that he wouldn't have told her anyway. Still, it did little to ease her mind as they made the journey. Had Irakles sent someone to ensure that her sister was not there? Was something amiss that would cause the king to wish for her in particular? None of it was clear, her hands quickly combing the loose strands of hair behind her ears so she did not appear so wild.
Already outside, it was a quick trip to the main courtyard, where men had gathered around a particular dark haired man. From behind, she did not recognize him, her eyes instead focused on the King who had summoned her here. It was a good thing her cheeks were already flushed from the exercise, else they would have brightened. Her mind was still on the conversation they had, of the moment in the stables. She wondered if he had overheard her conversation with his horse, or if he had been too dazed with sleep to make much of it.
It wasn’t until the man seemed to be stripping himself of the few weapons on his persons that she even took a look at him. But, as she did not wish to insult Vangelis, her attention was solely focused on him. With a small curtsy, as too many eyes were on the pair for her to drop the decorum she often battled in her mind, she gave him a curious smile. “You wished to see me, Your Majesty?”
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The last thing she expected was to be summoned to the walls, of all places. And even more so, it was more shocking to be called upon by the King himself. As Selene was returning from her ride, it had been to the sight of a guard waiting by the door of the stables. Today’s ride had been particularly hard, and she was certain she looked as if she had been working the fields. Blue riding skirts, borrowed from the princess herself, were dirty at the hems. The braid that she had pulled her hair back into early that morning was long diminished from the neatness prior.
All in all, she knew that she looked like a wreck. And she was more than certain that she was not fit to meet with the king.
But that would be where she was headed.
Trying to settle herself into a better countenance, there was little she could do as they made their way towards the courtyard. She did not ask the guard what he wished, for she was certain that he wouldn't have told her anyway. Still, it did little to ease her mind as they made the journey. Had Irakles sent someone to ensure that her sister was not there? Was something amiss that would cause the king to wish for her in particular? None of it was clear, her hands quickly combing the loose strands of hair behind her ears so she did not appear so wild.
Already outside, it was a quick trip to the main courtyard, where men had gathered around a particular dark haired man. From behind, she did not recognize him, her eyes instead focused on the King who had summoned her here. It was a good thing her cheeks were already flushed from the exercise, else they would have brightened. Her mind was still on the conversation they had, of the moment in the stables. She wondered if he had overheard her conversation with his horse, or if he had been too dazed with sleep to make much of it.
It wasn’t until the man seemed to be stripping himself of the few weapons on his persons that she even took a look at him. But, as she did not wish to insult Vangelis, her attention was solely focused on him. With a small curtsy, as too many eyes were on the pair for her to drop the decorum she often battled in her mind, she gave him a curious smile. “You wished to see me, Your Majesty?”
The last thing she expected was to be summoned to the walls, of all places. And even more so, it was more shocking to be called upon by the King himself. As Selene was returning from her ride, it had been to the sight of a guard waiting by the door of the stables. Today’s ride had been particularly hard, and she was certain she looked as if she had been working the fields. Blue riding skirts, borrowed from the princess herself, were dirty at the hems. The braid that she had pulled her hair back into early that morning was long diminished from the neatness prior.
All in all, she knew that she looked like a wreck. And she was more than certain that she was not fit to meet with the king.
But that would be where she was headed.
Trying to settle herself into a better countenance, there was little she could do as they made their way towards the courtyard. She did not ask the guard what he wished, for she was certain that he wouldn't have told her anyway. Still, it did little to ease her mind as they made the journey. Had Irakles sent someone to ensure that her sister was not there? Was something amiss that would cause the king to wish for her in particular? None of it was clear, her hands quickly combing the loose strands of hair behind her ears so she did not appear so wild.
Already outside, it was a quick trip to the main courtyard, where men had gathered around a particular dark haired man. From behind, she did not recognize him, her eyes instead focused on the King who had summoned her here. It was a good thing her cheeks were already flushed from the exercise, else they would have brightened. Her mind was still on the conversation they had, of the moment in the stables. She wondered if he had overheard her conversation with his horse, or if he had been too dazed with sleep to make much of it.
It wasn’t until the man seemed to be stripping himself of the few weapons on his persons that she even took a look at him. But, as she did not wish to insult Vangelis, her attention was solely focused on him. With a small curtsy, as too many eyes were on the pair for her to drop the decorum she often battled in her mind, she gave him a curious smile. “You wished to see me, Your Majesty?”
Vangelis watched as the man stripped down his weaponry. His gaze was harsh and focused as he watched the shifting of the man's clothes and the way his muscles turned and stretched as he reached for knives and blades. It wasn't a flattering stare that the King of Colchis burnt down upon him but one of experience. A concealed weapon could force someone to shift and move unnaturally, avoiding the hard mass of the blade. Or it might catch on a layer of clothing and pull the fabric taut. Vangelis was looking for any weapon that may be concealed upon this newcomer's person that he was failing to remove as ordered.
If Selene was concerned for her appearance, it was a moot concern. Vangelis' attention was not distracted by the blonde that came into view in his peripheral. Noting that the colours of flaxen yellow and sky blue moved with a grace and poise that he now easily recognised as Selene's own pace and gait, Vangelis was able to identify her without looking her way. Instead, his stare remained on the stranger. He wasn't about to miss a tell-tale sign of hidden danger simply to grace a lady with his full attention for a moment of politeness.
Had he turned to see her fully, however, her state of dress (a state that she deemed course and unrefined) would not have appeared obvious to a man used to witnessing his men in dirt, mud, sweat and blood. Vangelis had naturally, over the years, developed a habit of seeing the eyes of a person - the internal being of them as he knew them - without noticing their external appearance. He simply saw them as they were. An unflattering habit for most women who hoped to bowl him over with a revealing gown or a flashy piece of jewel work. But a helpful one when it came to remaining distraction-free.
The only reaction Vangelis made to Selene's presence was to shift a few steps to the left so that he was placed between her approaching figure and that of this Alastair. He kept her view of the man clear but ensured that were anything to turn out less innocent than had been claimed, it was a simple step to ensure his powerful height was placed directly between the two of them.
When the voice that he knew well enough by now spoke, offering the chance for an explanation to the summons that had brought her, Vangelis kept his gaze on the Colchian soldier and simply gestured his way with a hand. He could see little of Selene now but he knew her to be there from her voice and the way the fabric of her skirts shifted in the light breeze of the morning.
"This man claims familiarity with you, Lady Selene." Vangelis explained, to accompany his gesture. "He seeks entry to the Kotas estate and I'm unwilling to yield it without a confirmation of his story."
It was all the information he offered, as he waited for Alastair to turn away from the men who now held his weapons and move so that the latest addition to their party might bear witness to his face.
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Vangelis watched as the man stripped down his weaponry. His gaze was harsh and focused as he watched the shifting of the man's clothes and the way his muscles turned and stretched as he reached for knives and blades. It wasn't a flattering stare that the King of Colchis burnt down upon him but one of experience. A concealed weapon could force someone to shift and move unnaturally, avoiding the hard mass of the blade. Or it might catch on a layer of clothing and pull the fabric taut. Vangelis was looking for any weapon that may be concealed upon this newcomer's person that he was failing to remove as ordered.
If Selene was concerned for her appearance, it was a moot concern. Vangelis' attention was not distracted by the blonde that came into view in his peripheral. Noting that the colours of flaxen yellow and sky blue moved with a grace and poise that he now easily recognised as Selene's own pace and gait, Vangelis was able to identify her without looking her way. Instead, his stare remained on the stranger. He wasn't about to miss a tell-tale sign of hidden danger simply to grace a lady with his full attention for a moment of politeness.
Had he turned to see her fully, however, her state of dress (a state that she deemed course and unrefined) would not have appeared obvious to a man used to witnessing his men in dirt, mud, sweat and blood. Vangelis had naturally, over the years, developed a habit of seeing the eyes of a person - the internal being of them as he knew them - without noticing their external appearance. He simply saw them as they were. An unflattering habit for most women who hoped to bowl him over with a revealing gown or a flashy piece of jewel work. But a helpful one when it came to remaining distraction-free.
The only reaction Vangelis made to Selene's presence was to shift a few steps to the left so that he was placed between her approaching figure and that of this Alastair. He kept her view of the man clear but ensured that were anything to turn out less innocent than had been claimed, it was a simple step to ensure his powerful height was placed directly between the two of them.
When the voice that he knew well enough by now spoke, offering the chance for an explanation to the summons that had brought her, Vangelis kept his gaze on the Colchian soldier and simply gestured his way with a hand. He could see little of Selene now but he knew her to be there from her voice and the way the fabric of her skirts shifted in the light breeze of the morning.
"This man claims familiarity with you, Lady Selene." Vangelis explained, to accompany his gesture. "He seeks entry to the Kotas estate and I'm unwilling to yield it without a confirmation of his story."
It was all the information he offered, as he waited for Alastair to turn away from the men who now held his weapons and move so that the latest addition to their party might bear witness to his face.
Vangelis watched as the man stripped down his weaponry. His gaze was harsh and focused as he watched the shifting of the man's clothes and the way his muscles turned and stretched as he reached for knives and blades. It wasn't a flattering stare that the King of Colchis burnt down upon him but one of experience. A concealed weapon could force someone to shift and move unnaturally, avoiding the hard mass of the blade. Or it might catch on a layer of clothing and pull the fabric taut. Vangelis was looking for any weapon that may be concealed upon this newcomer's person that he was failing to remove as ordered.
If Selene was concerned for her appearance, it was a moot concern. Vangelis' attention was not distracted by the blonde that came into view in his peripheral. Noting that the colours of flaxen yellow and sky blue moved with a grace and poise that he now easily recognised as Selene's own pace and gait, Vangelis was able to identify her without looking her way. Instead, his stare remained on the stranger. He wasn't about to miss a tell-tale sign of hidden danger simply to grace a lady with his full attention for a moment of politeness.
Had he turned to see her fully, however, her state of dress (a state that she deemed course and unrefined) would not have appeared obvious to a man used to witnessing his men in dirt, mud, sweat and blood. Vangelis had naturally, over the years, developed a habit of seeing the eyes of a person - the internal being of them as he knew them - without noticing their external appearance. He simply saw them as they were. An unflattering habit for most women who hoped to bowl him over with a revealing gown or a flashy piece of jewel work. But a helpful one when it came to remaining distraction-free.
The only reaction Vangelis made to Selene's presence was to shift a few steps to the left so that he was placed between her approaching figure and that of this Alastair. He kept her view of the man clear but ensured that were anything to turn out less innocent than had been claimed, it was a simple step to ensure his powerful height was placed directly between the two of them.
When the voice that he knew well enough by now spoke, offering the chance for an explanation to the summons that had brought her, Vangelis kept his gaze on the Colchian soldier and simply gestured his way with a hand. He could see little of Selene now but he knew her to be there from her voice and the way the fabric of her skirts shifted in the light breeze of the morning.
"This man claims familiarity with you, Lady Selene." Vangelis explained, to accompany his gesture. "He seeks entry to the Kotas estate and I'm unwilling to yield it without a confirmation of his story."
It was all the information he offered, as he waited for Alastair to turn away from the men who now held his weapons and move so that the latest addition to their party might bear witness to his face.
There was no mistaking the subtle shift in the King’s body language, of how he put himself in front of Selene in a protective gesture. It was something that any man worth his salt would do when there was a potential enemy near a woman. The gesture was one he had done several times, placing himself in front of both ladies when the need arose. And yet, he couldn’t tell if there was something more about it.
Alastair was very aware of the growing feelings that Selene had for Vangelis. He was a constant shadow, silent but trusted enough that the sister’s spoke openly around him. Olympia seemed to see something that the eldest tried to push aside, and it wasn’t like he could make any sort of judgment on the matter-- his time spent in the company of the prince was non-existent. And still, he had spent years learning body language enough to know that the now-King at least considered her to be a friend.
He watched the proper way in which she curtsied, not thinking much as the small daggers he carried were handed over to the soldiers. His heavy lean on the staff kept them from removing his one true weapon, but there would be little need for him to use it here. It would be as it appeared now-- the walking stick of a man who needed the assistance. It was when the King told Selene of her purpose that she finally noticed him, turning to face him directly. There was a reason she was considered the most beautiful woman in all of Greece. But he knew his place, knew that he would never be more than a soldier.
And frankly, she wasn’t his type. He wanted a more simple soul, if he ever found himself inclined to settle down.
He bowed to her as best he could, his head low in greeting. When he stood, it was then he noticed the smile on her face. And was pleased to see the recognition there. He did not doubt that she would know him, but there had been a moment where he was worried that she may pretend not to. But, from what he knew of her, she was truthful and loyal. And this did not seem like something to lie about. “Lady Selene, I am pleased to see you again.”
Her eyebrow lifted, smiling staying in place. “As I am you, Alastair. I believe that Queen Olympia will be pleased to know that her Uncle in Law did not string you up.” Her words confirmed what the King was waiting to here-- he was who he said he was. Still, she turned to Vangelis specifically, leaning in to say something to him that appeared to be private.
Without knowing if he would be allowed in, he waited.
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There was no mistaking the subtle shift in the King’s body language, of how he put himself in front of Selene in a protective gesture. It was something that any man worth his salt would do when there was a potential enemy near a woman. The gesture was one he had done several times, placing himself in front of both ladies when the need arose. And yet, he couldn’t tell if there was something more about it.
Alastair was very aware of the growing feelings that Selene had for Vangelis. He was a constant shadow, silent but trusted enough that the sister’s spoke openly around him. Olympia seemed to see something that the eldest tried to push aside, and it wasn’t like he could make any sort of judgment on the matter-- his time spent in the company of the prince was non-existent. And still, he had spent years learning body language enough to know that the now-King at least considered her to be a friend.
He watched the proper way in which she curtsied, not thinking much as the small daggers he carried were handed over to the soldiers. His heavy lean on the staff kept them from removing his one true weapon, but there would be little need for him to use it here. It would be as it appeared now-- the walking stick of a man who needed the assistance. It was when the King told Selene of her purpose that she finally noticed him, turning to face him directly. There was a reason she was considered the most beautiful woman in all of Greece. But he knew his place, knew that he would never be more than a soldier.
And frankly, she wasn’t his type. He wanted a more simple soul, if he ever found himself inclined to settle down.
He bowed to her as best he could, his head low in greeting. When he stood, it was then he noticed the smile on her face. And was pleased to see the recognition there. He did not doubt that she would know him, but there had been a moment where he was worried that she may pretend not to. But, from what he knew of her, she was truthful and loyal. And this did not seem like something to lie about. “Lady Selene, I am pleased to see you again.”
Her eyebrow lifted, smiling staying in place. “As I am you, Alastair. I believe that Queen Olympia will be pleased to know that her Uncle in Law did not string you up.” Her words confirmed what the King was waiting to here-- he was who he said he was. Still, she turned to Vangelis specifically, leaning in to say something to him that appeared to be private.
Without knowing if he would be allowed in, he waited.
There was no mistaking the subtle shift in the King’s body language, of how he put himself in front of Selene in a protective gesture. It was something that any man worth his salt would do when there was a potential enemy near a woman. The gesture was one he had done several times, placing himself in front of both ladies when the need arose. And yet, he couldn’t tell if there was something more about it.
Alastair was very aware of the growing feelings that Selene had for Vangelis. He was a constant shadow, silent but trusted enough that the sister’s spoke openly around him. Olympia seemed to see something that the eldest tried to push aside, and it wasn’t like he could make any sort of judgment on the matter-- his time spent in the company of the prince was non-existent. And still, he had spent years learning body language enough to know that the now-King at least considered her to be a friend.
He watched the proper way in which she curtsied, not thinking much as the small daggers he carried were handed over to the soldiers. His heavy lean on the staff kept them from removing his one true weapon, but there would be little need for him to use it here. It would be as it appeared now-- the walking stick of a man who needed the assistance. It was when the King told Selene of her purpose that she finally noticed him, turning to face him directly. There was a reason she was considered the most beautiful woman in all of Greece. But he knew his place, knew that he would never be more than a soldier.
And frankly, she wasn’t his type. He wanted a more simple soul, if he ever found himself inclined to settle down.
He bowed to her as best he could, his head low in greeting. When he stood, it was then he noticed the smile on her face. And was pleased to see the recognition there. He did not doubt that she would know him, but there had been a moment where he was worried that she may pretend not to. But, from what he knew of her, she was truthful and loyal. And this did not seem like something to lie about. “Lady Selene, I am pleased to see you again.”
Her eyebrow lifted, smiling staying in place. “As I am you, Alastair. I believe that Queen Olympia will be pleased to know that her Uncle in Law did not string you up.” Her words confirmed what the King was waiting to here-- he was who he said he was. Still, she turned to Vangelis specifically, leaning in to say something to him that appeared to be private.
Without knowing if he would be allowed in, he waited.
Vangelis was content to take very few people's words as truth and trusted. At least when it came down to his family's safety. When it was in regards to his own, Vangelis was surprising open and accepting, placing faith in his own abilities to overcome whatever trial and betrayer might throw into his path. It paid him no time or heed to treat everyone as if they were a traitor in the making. But, when it came to the people in his blood kin, Vangelis took no chances. It was as simple as that. If you were even the whiff of an enemy, you were kept outside of the gates at all times. There was no in.
When the lady Selene spoke to Alastair, it wasn't the words that convinced him that they knew one another and that the man was to be trusted. It was the tone of voice that she used and the wat that her eyes turned upwards at the corners. This was someone she knew, someone she liked. The message was clear upon her expressions, even for a man such as Vangelis that was more than happy to accept his limits in social cues
With a simple nod, Vangelis dismissed the guards that had lingered around the man who called himself Alastair. They backed away and returned to their posts barring one that Vangelis gestured to remain. He pointed towards the stranger. Even if the man was Colchian, he didn't trust him until he saw evidence of loyalty.
"You'll be escorted by a guard at all times whilst you are on my family's property." He told the man. "You can meet with your Queen now but you will not stay here. Your lodgings are your own to find within the city. You'll speak only to those of my kin if they speak with you first. If these restrictions are unacceptable to you then you will leave now and see no-one. Do I make myself clear?"
His orders were simple, defensive and covered all bases. Again, had it been himself, Vangelis would have offered no such boundaries, no such bored in behaviour. He would have simply dogged the man's steps and been wary of any sharp movements. But if he was to be allowed to tend to his guests, to the people whom Vangelis was keeping sheltered in his estate, then he would obey or he would be removed. By force, if necessary.
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Vangelis was content to take very few people's words as truth and trusted. At least when it came down to his family's safety. When it was in regards to his own, Vangelis was surprising open and accepting, placing faith in his own abilities to overcome whatever trial and betrayer might throw into his path. It paid him no time or heed to treat everyone as if they were a traitor in the making. But, when it came to the people in his blood kin, Vangelis took no chances. It was as simple as that. If you were even the whiff of an enemy, you were kept outside of the gates at all times. There was no in.
When the lady Selene spoke to Alastair, it wasn't the words that convinced him that they knew one another and that the man was to be trusted. It was the tone of voice that she used and the wat that her eyes turned upwards at the corners. This was someone she knew, someone she liked. The message was clear upon her expressions, even for a man such as Vangelis that was more than happy to accept his limits in social cues
With a simple nod, Vangelis dismissed the guards that had lingered around the man who called himself Alastair. They backed away and returned to their posts barring one that Vangelis gestured to remain. He pointed towards the stranger. Even if the man was Colchian, he didn't trust him until he saw evidence of loyalty.
"You'll be escorted by a guard at all times whilst you are on my family's property." He told the man. "You can meet with your Queen now but you will not stay here. Your lodgings are your own to find within the city. You'll speak only to those of my kin if they speak with you first. If these restrictions are unacceptable to you then you will leave now and see no-one. Do I make myself clear?"
His orders were simple, defensive and covered all bases. Again, had it been himself, Vangelis would have offered no such boundaries, no such bored in behaviour. He would have simply dogged the man's steps and been wary of any sharp movements. But if he was to be allowed to tend to his guests, to the people whom Vangelis was keeping sheltered in his estate, then he would obey or he would be removed. By force, if necessary.
Vangelis was content to take very few people's words as truth and trusted. At least when it came down to his family's safety. When it was in regards to his own, Vangelis was surprising open and accepting, placing faith in his own abilities to overcome whatever trial and betrayer might throw into his path. It paid him no time or heed to treat everyone as if they were a traitor in the making. But, when it came to the people in his blood kin, Vangelis took no chances. It was as simple as that. If you were even the whiff of an enemy, you were kept outside of the gates at all times. There was no in.
When the lady Selene spoke to Alastair, it wasn't the words that convinced him that they knew one another and that the man was to be trusted. It was the tone of voice that she used and the wat that her eyes turned upwards at the corners. This was someone she knew, someone she liked. The message was clear upon her expressions, even for a man such as Vangelis that was more than happy to accept his limits in social cues
With a simple nod, Vangelis dismissed the guards that had lingered around the man who called himself Alastair. They backed away and returned to their posts barring one that Vangelis gestured to remain. He pointed towards the stranger. Even if the man was Colchian, he didn't trust him until he saw evidence of loyalty.
"You'll be escorted by a guard at all times whilst you are on my family's property." He told the man. "You can meet with your Queen now but you will not stay here. Your lodgings are your own to find within the city. You'll speak only to those of my kin if they speak with you first. If these restrictions are unacceptable to you then you will leave now and see no-one. Do I make myself clear?"
His orders were simple, defensive and covered all bases. Again, had it been himself, Vangelis would have offered no such boundaries, no such bored in behaviour. He would have simply dogged the man's steps and been wary of any sharp movements. But if he was to be allowed to tend to his guests, to the people whom Vangelis was keeping sheltered in his estate, then he would obey or he would be removed. By force, if necessary.
He stood patiently, awaiting his fate. It was not so odd that this royal was not ready to just let anyone into his home. There was much at stake, and with the death of both King Irakles and King Tython, it wasn’t surprising to him that everyone was on their guard. Hells, he would have doubted his ability to rule if he just trusted his word.
Selene had come quickly, had offered him her knowledge of the man (though seemed to ignore the plan they had first plotted to get the royals out) in a simple manner. And he was surprised that while she hadn’t said ‘Of Course I know him’, she had greeted him in a friendly, personal manner. And it made him smile a bit to know that she was truly pleased to see him. That would mean that King Stephanos and Queen Olympia would be glad for his presence as well.
The instructions he was given were straight-forward. Report for the Queen and leave. And while that did not sit well with him as her personal guard, he would not argue with his King. “As you command, your Majesty.” Perhaps, once either of the Mikaelidas had confirmed his identity, the restrictions would be lifted from his head. He was certain that only Stephanos would have any ability to ask for the removal of such stipulations.
Bowing to the King, he turned to leave, guard in tow. He was glad to at least be able to see for himself that she was well, that she had given birth and lived through the effort. Making a note to speak with Selene about what really happened, he allowed the guard to escort him to the Queen.
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He stood patiently, awaiting his fate. It was not so odd that this royal was not ready to just let anyone into his home. There was much at stake, and with the death of both King Irakles and King Tython, it wasn’t surprising to him that everyone was on their guard. Hells, he would have doubted his ability to rule if he just trusted his word.
Selene had come quickly, had offered him her knowledge of the man (though seemed to ignore the plan they had first plotted to get the royals out) in a simple manner. And he was surprised that while she hadn’t said ‘Of Course I know him’, she had greeted him in a friendly, personal manner. And it made him smile a bit to know that she was truly pleased to see him. That would mean that King Stephanos and Queen Olympia would be glad for his presence as well.
The instructions he was given were straight-forward. Report for the Queen and leave. And while that did not sit well with him as her personal guard, he would not argue with his King. “As you command, your Majesty.” Perhaps, once either of the Mikaelidas had confirmed his identity, the restrictions would be lifted from his head. He was certain that only Stephanos would have any ability to ask for the removal of such stipulations.
Bowing to the King, he turned to leave, guard in tow. He was glad to at least be able to see for himself that she was well, that she had given birth and lived through the effort. Making a note to speak with Selene about what really happened, he allowed the guard to escort him to the Queen.
He stood patiently, awaiting his fate. It was not so odd that this royal was not ready to just let anyone into his home. There was much at stake, and with the death of both King Irakles and King Tython, it wasn’t surprising to him that everyone was on their guard. Hells, he would have doubted his ability to rule if he just trusted his word.
Selene had come quickly, had offered him her knowledge of the man (though seemed to ignore the plan they had first plotted to get the royals out) in a simple manner. And he was surprised that while she hadn’t said ‘Of Course I know him’, she had greeted him in a friendly, personal manner. And it made him smile a bit to know that she was truly pleased to see him. That would mean that King Stephanos and Queen Olympia would be glad for his presence as well.
The instructions he was given were straight-forward. Report for the Queen and leave. And while that did not sit well with him as her personal guard, he would not argue with his King. “As you command, your Majesty.” Perhaps, once either of the Mikaelidas had confirmed his identity, the restrictions would be lifted from his head. He was certain that only Stephanos would have any ability to ask for the removal of such stipulations.
Bowing to the King, he turned to leave, guard in tow. He was glad to at least be able to see for himself that she was well, that she had given birth and lived through the effort. Making a note to speak with Selene about what really happened, he allowed the guard to escort him to the Queen.
While Alastair may have had no qualms about the restrictions, Selene thought they were far more strict than needed. Perhaps she should have said more, should have told Vangelis that this man was loyal to her family. But after the conversation in the hall, and on the boat, she didn’t feel the need to bring up the fact that she had all but convinced the soldier below to allow her to be a distraction to assist in the escape.
That had been a cause of grief for the pair, and perhaps it was better to leave it unsaid.
But it wasn’t difficult to know exactly why he was putting those rules in place. His father had just died, killed in battle to return as bones. He was now King, now responsible for so much more than he anticipated. So it only seemed right that he felt the need to protect the people within these walls. And she knew Alastair well enough to know that he would not seek out the company of any of the King’s family. His focus had always been the King and Queen-- there didn’t really seem much of a reason to change that now.
As they were out of sight, Selene turned to the King. “Your Majesty, perhaps you would permit me to escort him to the chambers of Olympia and Stephanos?” While she was not family, it seemed that he was intent on protecting every person under his roof. And since she was occupying the same suite of rooms she had been in before, it was not difficult to see that she would be in those ranks. “He may have news of the wedding, and of my family. I am anxious for an update on them, if you were to allow it.”
She would not have been this formal with him even a week prior. But things had changed, and she wanted him to know that she may not have agreed with his decision, she would respect it. It was not her place to try and convince him otherwise.
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While Alastair may have had no qualms about the restrictions, Selene thought they were far more strict than needed. Perhaps she should have said more, should have told Vangelis that this man was loyal to her family. But after the conversation in the hall, and on the boat, she didn’t feel the need to bring up the fact that she had all but convinced the soldier below to allow her to be a distraction to assist in the escape.
That had been a cause of grief for the pair, and perhaps it was better to leave it unsaid.
But it wasn’t difficult to know exactly why he was putting those rules in place. His father had just died, killed in battle to return as bones. He was now King, now responsible for so much more than he anticipated. So it only seemed right that he felt the need to protect the people within these walls. And she knew Alastair well enough to know that he would not seek out the company of any of the King’s family. His focus had always been the King and Queen-- there didn’t really seem much of a reason to change that now.
As they were out of sight, Selene turned to the King. “Your Majesty, perhaps you would permit me to escort him to the chambers of Olympia and Stephanos?” While she was not family, it seemed that he was intent on protecting every person under his roof. And since she was occupying the same suite of rooms she had been in before, it was not difficult to see that she would be in those ranks. “He may have news of the wedding, and of my family. I am anxious for an update on them, if you were to allow it.”
She would not have been this formal with him even a week prior. But things had changed, and she wanted him to know that she may not have agreed with his decision, she would respect it. It was not her place to try and convince him otherwise.
While Alastair may have had no qualms about the restrictions, Selene thought they were far more strict than needed. Perhaps she should have said more, should have told Vangelis that this man was loyal to her family. But after the conversation in the hall, and on the boat, she didn’t feel the need to bring up the fact that she had all but convinced the soldier below to allow her to be a distraction to assist in the escape.
That had been a cause of grief for the pair, and perhaps it was better to leave it unsaid.
But it wasn’t difficult to know exactly why he was putting those rules in place. His father had just died, killed in battle to return as bones. He was now King, now responsible for so much more than he anticipated. So it only seemed right that he felt the need to protect the people within these walls. And she knew Alastair well enough to know that he would not seek out the company of any of the King’s family. His focus had always been the King and Queen-- there didn’t really seem much of a reason to change that now.
As they were out of sight, Selene turned to the King. “Your Majesty, perhaps you would permit me to escort him to the chambers of Olympia and Stephanos?” While she was not family, it seemed that he was intent on protecting every person under his roof. And since she was occupying the same suite of rooms she had been in before, it was not difficult to see that she would be in those ranks. “He may have news of the wedding, and of my family. I am anxious for an update on them, if you were to allow it.”
She would not have been this formal with him even a week prior. But things had changed, and she wanted him to know that she may not have agreed with his decision, she would respect it. It was not her place to try and convince him otherwise.
Vangelis didn't give a moment's thought to whether or not either of the people he was speaking with would consider his restrictions unfair. His duty was first and foremost to his family, his blood kin. Then to the guests that he had offered protection to under his roof. Then to his people. He had too many dependents upon him, looking to him for confirmation of their safety, for him to permit any cracks or chances for subterfuge or violence. It wasn't that he believed Alastair would be someone untrustworthy. He just had to be sure that there was absolutely no opportunities for him to be so, on the very off chance that he was.
The soldier at least accepted such things. He took Vangelis' instructions with the only option available to him - careful and polite acceptance. He was quiet as he was led away to go and see Queen Olympia and Vangelis permitted him to go, ensuring that there were new guards to take their spots on the front gates and that the men that accompanied Alastair were some of his finest and most loyal.
His attention was then brought around by Selene, who spoke with him formally in a way that set his teeth on edge. He hadn't liked the rocky state of affairs that their relationship had yielded after the boat ride. Their friendship had taken a hit and a dent but, as far as Vangelis was concerned, it was still there and there was no need to return to formalities as such.
Disregarding that argument for another time, Vangelis focused on what she was actually saying rather than the how she went about addressing him. She spoke of following Alastair to see Olympia and learning of the news of the wedding of her sister and all sorts of other details of Taengea - of her homeland - that she might get from a man that had remained there longer than she.
But the issue with her following the man now was the potential for violence in thin corridors and the chances of her being taken hostage, should the man prove to be a spy. There was limited defense that armed guards could strike, stuck in the close confines of a hallway.
"I request that you wait." He insisted. There was a hard note to his voice that told her it was hardly a request at all but an instruction. "See to the man and your sister in a few minutes when he is likely already in the chamber. Do not wander the corridors in his presence."
Vangelis did not move close to her, did not touch her face or gesture to her compassion and comfort in any way. But his words showed his concern in their own way. Even if his tone was harsh and commanding instead of full of worry or sympathy.
"I appreciate your opinion and judgment upon the man but whilst you stay here your safety is of my duty."
And that was all the explanation that he could give for why he was insisting that she follow his instruction, regardless of her connection or trust in the stranger at the gates.
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Vangelis didn't give a moment's thought to whether or not either of the people he was speaking with would consider his restrictions unfair. His duty was first and foremost to his family, his blood kin. Then to the guests that he had offered protection to under his roof. Then to his people. He had too many dependents upon him, looking to him for confirmation of their safety, for him to permit any cracks or chances for subterfuge or violence. It wasn't that he believed Alastair would be someone untrustworthy. He just had to be sure that there was absolutely no opportunities for him to be so, on the very off chance that he was.
The soldier at least accepted such things. He took Vangelis' instructions with the only option available to him - careful and polite acceptance. He was quiet as he was led away to go and see Queen Olympia and Vangelis permitted him to go, ensuring that there were new guards to take their spots on the front gates and that the men that accompanied Alastair were some of his finest and most loyal.
His attention was then brought around by Selene, who spoke with him formally in a way that set his teeth on edge. He hadn't liked the rocky state of affairs that their relationship had yielded after the boat ride. Their friendship had taken a hit and a dent but, as far as Vangelis was concerned, it was still there and there was no need to return to formalities as such.
Disregarding that argument for another time, Vangelis focused on what she was actually saying rather than the how she went about addressing him. She spoke of following Alastair to see Olympia and learning of the news of the wedding of her sister and all sorts of other details of Taengea - of her homeland - that she might get from a man that had remained there longer than she.
But the issue with her following the man now was the potential for violence in thin corridors and the chances of her being taken hostage, should the man prove to be a spy. There was limited defense that armed guards could strike, stuck in the close confines of a hallway.
"I request that you wait." He insisted. There was a hard note to his voice that told her it was hardly a request at all but an instruction. "See to the man and your sister in a few minutes when he is likely already in the chamber. Do not wander the corridors in his presence."
Vangelis did not move close to her, did not touch her face or gesture to her compassion and comfort in any way. But his words showed his concern in their own way. Even if his tone was harsh and commanding instead of full of worry or sympathy.
"I appreciate your opinion and judgment upon the man but whilst you stay here your safety is of my duty."
And that was all the explanation that he could give for why he was insisting that she follow his instruction, regardless of her connection or trust in the stranger at the gates.
Vangelis didn't give a moment's thought to whether or not either of the people he was speaking with would consider his restrictions unfair. His duty was first and foremost to his family, his blood kin. Then to the guests that he had offered protection to under his roof. Then to his people. He had too many dependents upon him, looking to him for confirmation of their safety, for him to permit any cracks or chances for subterfuge or violence. It wasn't that he believed Alastair would be someone untrustworthy. He just had to be sure that there was absolutely no opportunities for him to be so, on the very off chance that he was.
The soldier at least accepted such things. He took Vangelis' instructions with the only option available to him - careful and polite acceptance. He was quiet as he was led away to go and see Queen Olympia and Vangelis permitted him to go, ensuring that there were new guards to take their spots on the front gates and that the men that accompanied Alastair were some of his finest and most loyal.
His attention was then brought around by Selene, who spoke with him formally in a way that set his teeth on edge. He hadn't liked the rocky state of affairs that their relationship had yielded after the boat ride. Their friendship had taken a hit and a dent but, as far as Vangelis was concerned, it was still there and there was no need to return to formalities as such.
Disregarding that argument for another time, Vangelis focused on what she was actually saying rather than the how she went about addressing him. She spoke of following Alastair to see Olympia and learning of the news of the wedding of her sister and all sorts of other details of Taengea - of her homeland - that she might get from a man that had remained there longer than she.
But the issue with her following the man now was the potential for violence in thin corridors and the chances of her being taken hostage, should the man prove to be a spy. There was limited defense that armed guards could strike, stuck in the close confines of a hallway.
"I request that you wait." He insisted. There was a hard note to his voice that told her it was hardly a request at all but an instruction. "See to the man and your sister in a few minutes when he is likely already in the chamber. Do not wander the corridors in his presence."
Vangelis did not move close to her, did not touch her face or gesture to her compassion and comfort in any way. But his words showed his concern in their own way. Even if his tone was harsh and commanding instead of full of worry or sympathy.
"I appreciate your opinion and judgment upon the man but whilst you stay here your safety is of my duty."
And that was all the explanation that he could give for why he was insisting that she follow his instruction, regardless of her connection or trust in the stranger at the gates.
Her heart was heavy alone with him, knowing that the trust had been broken a bit and was in the process of mending. She had asked something of him that asked him to choose what was more important-- her friendship with him or his people. There was no reason that he shouldn’t have been mad about that, because she had pressed him for her own selfish gain. And he had done it, had sacrificed everything for her because she had simply asked him to.
How did life go back to normal after a situation like that?
And now, he was King. They had no chance to even discuss any more what had transpired, what he expected from her or how she could make it up to him. There was so much she wished to discuss with him, wanting nothing more than to be able to sit with him to openly talk about what happened. She wanted to be helpful, wanted their easy friendship back. There was hope that they could come back from this, but even that was uncertain. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to stay here without purpose.
A part of her felt frustrated that she couldn’t just go with him, watching Alastair wander towards her sister. There was a need to control the situation, which she understood, but there was no fear in her mind towards the man. She had trusted him completely and wanted to roll her eyes at him. But there was a quieter part of herself that made her stop, to listen to his reasoning.
She knew she had to trust his reasoning, even if she didn’t agree with it.
“I shall do as you ask, Vangelis.” She said, quietly dropping the formality in her words to allow a moment of what had been. Selene trusted Vangelis, had always trusted him. And it wasn’t a blind trust-- he had done nothing to make her believe that she shouldn’t. Trust had been so much of the foundation of their friendship, even if she had pushed him more than she should have, he still trusted her. And she trusted him. So she would not fight him on this now, for there was no reason to. As he had said, he wanted to keep her safe.
She reached out, closing the space between them with a gentle hand. There was something more she wanted to say, something left unsaid between the two. She longed for them to go back to the way things were. But this didn’t feel like the time or place for that to happen. She lightly squeezed his forearm. “When things settle, perhaps you and I can find a moment to talk. I am sure I am your last concern, but…”
Her throat tightened, and she swallowed down what she wished to say.
Her arm fell and she smiled, her fingers lacing together. “I miss you.” It was a simple statement, was the best way she could plainly say what she was feeling without saying more. She didn’t give him a chance to respond, didn’t wait for him to excuse her. Instead, she bowed her head, eyes lifting to meet his as she rose to her full height. Turning, she left him at the gates, hoping that he would take her up on her offer to find a moment. Perhaps after the dinner, when things settled, he would find time.
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Her heart was heavy alone with him, knowing that the trust had been broken a bit and was in the process of mending. She had asked something of him that asked him to choose what was more important-- her friendship with him or his people. There was no reason that he shouldn’t have been mad about that, because she had pressed him for her own selfish gain. And he had done it, had sacrificed everything for her because she had simply asked him to.
How did life go back to normal after a situation like that?
And now, he was King. They had no chance to even discuss any more what had transpired, what he expected from her or how she could make it up to him. There was so much she wished to discuss with him, wanting nothing more than to be able to sit with him to openly talk about what happened. She wanted to be helpful, wanted their easy friendship back. There was hope that they could come back from this, but even that was uncertain. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to stay here without purpose.
A part of her felt frustrated that she couldn’t just go with him, watching Alastair wander towards her sister. There was a need to control the situation, which she understood, but there was no fear in her mind towards the man. She had trusted him completely and wanted to roll her eyes at him. But there was a quieter part of herself that made her stop, to listen to his reasoning.
She knew she had to trust his reasoning, even if she didn’t agree with it.
“I shall do as you ask, Vangelis.” She said, quietly dropping the formality in her words to allow a moment of what had been. Selene trusted Vangelis, had always trusted him. And it wasn’t a blind trust-- he had done nothing to make her believe that she shouldn’t. Trust had been so much of the foundation of their friendship, even if she had pushed him more than she should have, he still trusted her. And she trusted him. So she would not fight him on this now, for there was no reason to. As he had said, he wanted to keep her safe.
She reached out, closing the space between them with a gentle hand. There was something more she wanted to say, something left unsaid between the two. She longed for them to go back to the way things were. But this didn’t feel like the time or place for that to happen. She lightly squeezed his forearm. “When things settle, perhaps you and I can find a moment to talk. I am sure I am your last concern, but…”
Her throat tightened, and she swallowed down what she wished to say.
Her arm fell and she smiled, her fingers lacing together. “I miss you.” It was a simple statement, was the best way she could plainly say what she was feeling without saying more. She didn’t give him a chance to respond, didn’t wait for him to excuse her. Instead, she bowed her head, eyes lifting to meet his as she rose to her full height. Turning, she left him at the gates, hoping that he would take her up on her offer to find a moment. Perhaps after the dinner, when things settled, he would find time.
Her heart was heavy alone with him, knowing that the trust had been broken a bit and was in the process of mending. She had asked something of him that asked him to choose what was more important-- her friendship with him or his people. There was no reason that he shouldn’t have been mad about that, because she had pressed him for her own selfish gain. And he had done it, had sacrificed everything for her because she had simply asked him to.
How did life go back to normal after a situation like that?
And now, he was King. They had no chance to even discuss any more what had transpired, what he expected from her or how she could make it up to him. There was so much she wished to discuss with him, wanting nothing more than to be able to sit with him to openly talk about what happened. She wanted to be helpful, wanted their easy friendship back. There was hope that they could come back from this, but even that was uncertain. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to stay here without purpose.
A part of her felt frustrated that she couldn’t just go with him, watching Alastair wander towards her sister. There was a need to control the situation, which she understood, but there was no fear in her mind towards the man. She had trusted him completely and wanted to roll her eyes at him. But there was a quieter part of herself that made her stop, to listen to his reasoning.
She knew she had to trust his reasoning, even if she didn’t agree with it.
“I shall do as you ask, Vangelis.” She said, quietly dropping the formality in her words to allow a moment of what had been. Selene trusted Vangelis, had always trusted him. And it wasn’t a blind trust-- he had done nothing to make her believe that she shouldn’t. Trust had been so much of the foundation of their friendship, even if she had pushed him more than she should have, he still trusted her. And she trusted him. So she would not fight him on this now, for there was no reason to. As he had said, he wanted to keep her safe.
She reached out, closing the space between them with a gentle hand. There was something more she wanted to say, something left unsaid between the two. She longed for them to go back to the way things were. But this didn’t feel like the time or place for that to happen. She lightly squeezed his forearm. “When things settle, perhaps you and I can find a moment to talk. I am sure I am your last concern, but…”
Her throat tightened, and she swallowed down what she wished to say.
Her arm fell and she smiled, her fingers lacing together. “I miss you.” It was a simple statement, was the best way she could plainly say what she was feeling without saying more. She didn’t give him a chance to respond, didn’t wait for him to excuse her. Instead, she bowed her head, eyes lifting to meet his as she rose to her full height. Turning, she left him at the gates, hoping that he would take her up on her offer to find a moment. Perhaps after the dinner, when things settled, he would find time.