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Fotios had needed little to convince the lords and powerful men of Taengea that a strategy meeting needed to be held. For one, he was perhaps one of the oldest and most respected Heads of Houses still residing in Vasiliadon that would have the expertise over such things. For another, he had sent the missives to such men under the specifications (or so he said) of Lord Emilios.
As brother to the King, Emilios of Mikaelidas held much power now within his home kingdom. Whilst Fotios was making abundantly sure that he couldn't use it for anything that would cause issue to the Leventi's future and held the real reins of power behind the Mikaelidas mantel, those who were attending today were not to know that. Only Emilios would be aware that such a note had never come from his own direction. And why would he turn around and admit that Fotios had been able to summon those that he had not... that he had done so in the Crown Prince's name? That he had done so in the Crown Prince's name without his permission or regard?
Such an admittance would require an explanation. Such an explanation would reveal the Head of Mikaelidas' impotence. Their lion's paw held beneath the hooves of Leventi power.
No noble - no prince, for sure! - would ever risk that sort of humiliation.
As such, Fotios had sent the missives - including one to Emilios himself - stating that he, on behalf of the Crown Prince, was summoning the rich and the powerful within the kingdom to a meet at the Archontiko Mikaelidas, in order to discuss the defence and security of their capitol.
With the King now on the waters, sailing for Egypt, it would be down to them to ensure that he had a capitol to return to should Egypt have another trick up their dirty sleeves and made it across the waves to their shores.
Arriving nice and early at the Archontiko Mikaelidas, Fotios found that the note he had given to the servants within the estate had been received and followed - for again, who were they to question a Head of House? - and the largest of the solar rooms - looking out into the Mikaelidas grounds - where a wedding had been held only a few weeks ago, was now supplied with a large table, refreshment and seats around which the men might cluster with their notes and directives.
The notes that Fotios had sent around the capitol had been particularly chosen.
Along with Emilios of Mikaelidas, he had sent one to Nikolias of Condos, the Lord Gavriil of Dimitrou, the previous Queen Dowager Elise, Queen Theodora and the Princess Xene. Both of his brothers were also to be in attendance.
Whilst it was perhaps uncommon to welcome women to what would eventually turn into discussions for military defence, Fotios was calculated in his choices. The women in question were clever movers in the kingdom. They held positions of power and respect in the populace. Their support for the plans would be instrumental and reflect how smoothly they could be carried out.
Moving to a side table that offered jugs of mulled wine, Fotios poured himself a cup and raised it to his lips. A single sip had his lip curling a little but he would deal with the mediocre bouquet for the day. This meeting was too important to be offended by the lack of good wine.
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Fotios had needed little to convince the lords and powerful men of Taengea that a strategy meeting needed to be held. For one, he was perhaps one of the oldest and most respected Heads of Houses still residing in Vasiliadon that would have the expertise over such things. For another, he had sent the missives to such men under the specifications (or so he said) of Lord Emilios.
As brother to the King, Emilios of Mikaelidas held much power now within his home kingdom. Whilst Fotios was making abundantly sure that he couldn't use it for anything that would cause issue to the Leventi's future and held the real reins of power behind the Mikaelidas mantel, those who were attending today were not to know that. Only Emilios would be aware that such a note had never come from his own direction. And why would he turn around and admit that Fotios had been able to summon those that he had not... that he had done so in the Crown Prince's name? That he had done so in the Crown Prince's name without his permission or regard?
Such an admittance would require an explanation. Such an explanation would reveal the Head of Mikaelidas' impotence. Their lion's paw held beneath the hooves of Leventi power.
No noble - no prince, for sure! - would ever risk that sort of humiliation.
As such, Fotios had sent the missives - including one to Emilios himself - stating that he, on behalf of the Crown Prince, was summoning the rich and the powerful within the kingdom to a meet at the Archontiko Mikaelidas, in order to discuss the defence and security of their capitol.
With the King now on the waters, sailing for Egypt, it would be down to them to ensure that he had a capitol to return to should Egypt have another trick up their dirty sleeves and made it across the waves to their shores.
Arriving nice and early at the Archontiko Mikaelidas, Fotios found that the note he had given to the servants within the estate had been received and followed - for again, who were they to question a Head of House? - and the largest of the solar rooms - looking out into the Mikaelidas grounds - where a wedding had been held only a few weeks ago, was now supplied with a large table, refreshment and seats around which the men might cluster with their notes and directives.
The notes that Fotios had sent around the capitol had been particularly chosen.
Along with Emilios of Mikaelidas, he had sent one to Nikolias of Condos, the Lord Gavriil of Dimitrou, the previous Queen Dowager Elise, Queen Theodora and the Princess Xene. Both of his brothers were also to be in attendance.
Whilst it was perhaps uncommon to welcome women to what would eventually turn into discussions for military defence, Fotios was calculated in his choices. The women in question were clever movers in the kingdom. They held positions of power and respect in the populace. Their support for the plans would be instrumental and reflect how smoothly they could be carried out.
Moving to a side table that offered jugs of mulled wine, Fotios poured himself a cup and raised it to his lips. A single sip had his lip curling a little but he would deal with the mediocre bouquet for the day. This meeting was too important to be offended by the lack of good wine.
Fotios had needed little to convince the lords and powerful men of Taengea that a strategy meeting needed to be held. For one, he was perhaps one of the oldest and most respected Heads of Houses still residing in Vasiliadon that would have the expertise over such things. For another, he had sent the missives to such men under the specifications (or so he said) of Lord Emilios.
As brother to the King, Emilios of Mikaelidas held much power now within his home kingdom. Whilst Fotios was making abundantly sure that he couldn't use it for anything that would cause issue to the Leventi's future and held the real reins of power behind the Mikaelidas mantel, those who were attending today were not to know that. Only Emilios would be aware that such a note had never come from his own direction. And why would he turn around and admit that Fotios had been able to summon those that he had not... that he had done so in the Crown Prince's name? That he had done so in the Crown Prince's name without his permission or regard?
Such an admittance would require an explanation. Such an explanation would reveal the Head of Mikaelidas' impotence. Their lion's paw held beneath the hooves of Leventi power.
No noble - no prince, for sure! - would ever risk that sort of humiliation.
As such, Fotios had sent the missives - including one to Emilios himself - stating that he, on behalf of the Crown Prince, was summoning the rich and the powerful within the kingdom to a meet at the Archontiko Mikaelidas, in order to discuss the defence and security of their capitol.
With the King now on the waters, sailing for Egypt, it would be down to them to ensure that he had a capitol to return to should Egypt have another trick up their dirty sleeves and made it across the waves to their shores.
Arriving nice and early at the Archontiko Mikaelidas, Fotios found that the note he had given to the servants within the estate had been received and followed - for again, who were they to question a Head of House? - and the largest of the solar rooms - looking out into the Mikaelidas grounds - where a wedding had been held only a few weeks ago, was now supplied with a large table, refreshment and seats around which the men might cluster with their notes and directives.
The notes that Fotios had sent around the capitol had been particularly chosen.
Along with Emilios of Mikaelidas, he had sent one to Nikolias of Condos, the Lord Gavriil of Dimitrou, the previous Queen Dowager Elise, Queen Theodora and the Princess Xene. Both of his brothers were also to be in attendance.
Whilst it was perhaps uncommon to welcome women to what would eventually turn into discussions for military defence, Fotios was calculated in his choices. The women in question were clever movers in the kingdom. They held positions of power and respect in the populace. Their support for the plans would be instrumental and reflect how smoothly they could be carried out.
Moving to a side table that offered jugs of mulled wine, Fotios poured himself a cup and raised it to his lips. A single sip had his lip curling a little but he would deal with the mediocre bouquet for the day. This meeting was too important to be offended by the lack of good wine.
The youngest of Serafim’s sons was perhaps the quietest. He blended and merged into his settings with the ease of a chameleon. Everyone knew who he was, but unlike his oldest brother, there was a more yielding nature to his existence. Leaving his wife and son to take a ride with their daughter and enjoy their visit. As much as that idea would have appealed to him at that very moment, the pressing matter of the summons from the crown prince pulled him away.
He’d expected he would receive something along these lines of a summons as soon as their new king departed. There were things to be decided upon and measures to be taken. Such things were upon the minds of many of Taengea’s most powerful and influential and were often the topics of conversation between himself and his brothers. Not that Konstanos expected that they would ever need to resort to those measures. Taengea had the resources and without a doubt the finest soldiers in his sometimes less than humble opinion. But, the man did not particularly care for not having a plan either. He wasn’t particularly known for the adaptability or open-mindedness that his wife and daughter shared so he was a man of plans and of quiet knowing…
Archontiko Mikaelidas was a place he’d never felt as comfortable in as his brothers had and it was evident in the stiffness as he entered the outdoor solar room and came to a halt. With a quick scan, he spotted the person he was looking for and felt his spine straighten a little. Fotios always had that effect on him. It was damn troublesome at times too. His tongue scraped across his teeth before he started over. He had the jaunty sort of walk of a man who perhaps should ride a little less and pursue a more rigid training schedule.
A small bit of amusement was experienced in him as he saw his brother’s lips curl at the substandard wine. Must be Condos wine, he mused to himself. Coming up just short of his brother, he reached for a glass of it himself and tilted a look at his brother, “You’re getting old, brother. You use to could hide your contempt better.” His deadpan baritone voice spoke quietly for his brother’s ears only. He lifted the glass and took a tentative sip, though the smell of the wine alone he could understand the face his brother had made.
Glancing down at the glass of wine, he swirled it gently wondering if it’d improve the taste any but didn’t offer any other comments. It seemed whoever had planned this little meeting of minds hadn’t exactly been extravagant in the choices for refreshments. He’d just bet Prince Irakles was throwing a fit over this spread in the underworld. The man had never done anything modestly in his life - not that Konstanos could blame him, modesty could be highly overrated. Lifting his lazy gaze upwards, he shifted his weight and moved one hand onto his hip as he studied the area and the carefully selected occupants.
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The youngest of Serafim’s sons was perhaps the quietest. He blended and merged into his settings with the ease of a chameleon. Everyone knew who he was, but unlike his oldest brother, there was a more yielding nature to his existence. Leaving his wife and son to take a ride with their daughter and enjoy their visit. As much as that idea would have appealed to him at that very moment, the pressing matter of the summons from the crown prince pulled him away.
He’d expected he would receive something along these lines of a summons as soon as their new king departed. There were things to be decided upon and measures to be taken. Such things were upon the minds of many of Taengea’s most powerful and influential and were often the topics of conversation between himself and his brothers. Not that Konstanos expected that they would ever need to resort to those measures. Taengea had the resources and without a doubt the finest soldiers in his sometimes less than humble opinion. But, the man did not particularly care for not having a plan either. He wasn’t particularly known for the adaptability or open-mindedness that his wife and daughter shared so he was a man of plans and of quiet knowing…
Archontiko Mikaelidas was a place he’d never felt as comfortable in as his brothers had and it was evident in the stiffness as he entered the outdoor solar room and came to a halt. With a quick scan, he spotted the person he was looking for and felt his spine straighten a little. Fotios always had that effect on him. It was damn troublesome at times too. His tongue scraped across his teeth before he started over. He had the jaunty sort of walk of a man who perhaps should ride a little less and pursue a more rigid training schedule.
A small bit of amusement was experienced in him as he saw his brother’s lips curl at the substandard wine. Must be Condos wine, he mused to himself. Coming up just short of his brother, he reached for a glass of it himself and tilted a look at his brother, “You’re getting old, brother. You use to could hide your contempt better.” His deadpan baritone voice spoke quietly for his brother’s ears only. He lifted the glass and took a tentative sip, though the smell of the wine alone he could understand the face his brother had made.
Glancing down at the glass of wine, he swirled it gently wondering if it’d improve the taste any but didn’t offer any other comments. It seemed whoever had planned this little meeting of minds hadn’t exactly been extravagant in the choices for refreshments. He’d just bet Prince Irakles was throwing a fit over this spread in the underworld. The man had never done anything modestly in his life - not that Konstanos could blame him, modesty could be highly overrated. Lifting his lazy gaze upwards, he shifted his weight and moved one hand onto his hip as he studied the area and the carefully selected occupants.
The youngest of Serafim’s sons was perhaps the quietest. He blended and merged into his settings with the ease of a chameleon. Everyone knew who he was, but unlike his oldest brother, there was a more yielding nature to his existence. Leaving his wife and son to take a ride with their daughter and enjoy their visit. As much as that idea would have appealed to him at that very moment, the pressing matter of the summons from the crown prince pulled him away.
He’d expected he would receive something along these lines of a summons as soon as their new king departed. There were things to be decided upon and measures to be taken. Such things were upon the minds of many of Taengea’s most powerful and influential and were often the topics of conversation between himself and his brothers. Not that Konstanos expected that they would ever need to resort to those measures. Taengea had the resources and without a doubt the finest soldiers in his sometimes less than humble opinion. But, the man did not particularly care for not having a plan either. He wasn’t particularly known for the adaptability or open-mindedness that his wife and daughter shared so he was a man of plans and of quiet knowing…
Archontiko Mikaelidas was a place he’d never felt as comfortable in as his brothers had and it was evident in the stiffness as he entered the outdoor solar room and came to a halt. With a quick scan, he spotted the person he was looking for and felt his spine straighten a little. Fotios always had that effect on him. It was damn troublesome at times too. His tongue scraped across his teeth before he started over. He had the jaunty sort of walk of a man who perhaps should ride a little less and pursue a more rigid training schedule.
A small bit of amusement was experienced in him as he saw his brother’s lips curl at the substandard wine. Must be Condos wine, he mused to himself. Coming up just short of his brother, he reached for a glass of it himself and tilted a look at his brother, “You’re getting old, brother. You use to could hide your contempt better.” His deadpan baritone voice spoke quietly for his brother’s ears only. He lifted the glass and took a tentative sip, though the smell of the wine alone he could understand the face his brother had made.
Glancing down at the glass of wine, he swirled it gently wondering if it’d improve the taste any but didn’t offer any other comments. It seemed whoever had planned this little meeting of minds hadn’t exactly been extravagant in the choices for refreshments. He’d just bet Prince Irakles was throwing a fit over this spread in the underworld. The man had never done anything modestly in his life - not that Konstanos could blame him, modesty could be highly overrated. Lifting his lazy gaze upwards, he shifted his weight and moved one hand onto his hip as he studied the area and the carefully selected occupants.
Months had been spent in bed after he had been so ill that he was at death’s doorstep. However, he had enough women in his life that loved him and must have made abundant offerings at any god or goddess that would spare the life of the middle Leventi brother. While he had been up and down on this roller coaster and unable to figure out what was actually plaguing him, he still tried to be as much of a father as he could manage.
It had only been recently that he had felt that he was finally better. The world seemed new. It seemed brighter in a way that he could hardly explain out loud. His five daughters were all growing up. Maybe he had been suffering just from a broken heart as he watched them all take on lives of their own. Georgios just had to come to terms with it all and stop allowing it to take over his mind and his body.
The telegram caused him to furrow his large brows as he read through it. A beckon to come to the Archontiko Mikaelidas. He could do that. Georgios could take it as a moment to come together with the other men that were likely invited and show that he was now well. He was ready to face whatever it was that they were going to meet and discuss. He could only imagine the numerous topics that they would cycle through… each and every one to probably involve one of his daughters or another. Their beauty could be argued into being a burden rather than the blessing he had always found joy in.
He was not far behind Konstanos. Though, he had kept himself a few strides behind and quiet so that he would be able to rush casually in after him and greet after his younger brother had his own moment. Georgios easily in earshot when he teased Fotios. A mischievous grin slipped across his lips as he came around and into the room swiftly coming up behind them.
Only a subtle inch taller than Fotios and bigger than Konstanos, Georgios had always had a different build than the pair of them. He stepped up behind them as they both held their wine. Big blue eyes watched to be sure that neither had the glasses to their lips - he was not in the business of surprising them to make a mess… that would be embarrassing before a big meeting. However, he was not solemn enough to let an opportunity pass. His palms simultaneously slapped each of his brothers’ shoulder blades at the same time. ”Careful what you say, Konstanos. You’ll be old next.”
His teeth were showing brightly as he looked damn near jolly even with all the chaos that had been all around. Even with threats, deaths, and daughters spread around the map. He and his brothers were here and they were well… and he was trying to find the silver lining. Perhaps that was the key to staying healthy. Georgios did not like politics... or military... or probably anything that was going to be discussed - but he was happy to be included.
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Months had been spent in bed after he had been so ill that he was at death’s doorstep. However, he had enough women in his life that loved him and must have made abundant offerings at any god or goddess that would spare the life of the middle Leventi brother. While he had been up and down on this roller coaster and unable to figure out what was actually plaguing him, he still tried to be as much of a father as he could manage.
It had only been recently that he had felt that he was finally better. The world seemed new. It seemed brighter in a way that he could hardly explain out loud. His five daughters were all growing up. Maybe he had been suffering just from a broken heart as he watched them all take on lives of their own. Georgios just had to come to terms with it all and stop allowing it to take over his mind and his body.
The telegram caused him to furrow his large brows as he read through it. A beckon to come to the Archontiko Mikaelidas. He could do that. Georgios could take it as a moment to come together with the other men that were likely invited and show that he was now well. He was ready to face whatever it was that they were going to meet and discuss. He could only imagine the numerous topics that they would cycle through… each and every one to probably involve one of his daughters or another. Their beauty could be argued into being a burden rather than the blessing he had always found joy in.
He was not far behind Konstanos. Though, he had kept himself a few strides behind and quiet so that he would be able to rush casually in after him and greet after his younger brother had his own moment. Georgios easily in earshot when he teased Fotios. A mischievous grin slipped across his lips as he came around and into the room swiftly coming up behind them.
Only a subtle inch taller than Fotios and bigger than Konstanos, Georgios had always had a different build than the pair of them. He stepped up behind them as they both held their wine. Big blue eyes watched to be sure that neither had the glasses to their lips - he was not in the business of surprising them to make a mess… that would be embarrassing before a big meeting. However, he was not solemn enough to let an opportunity pass. His palms simultaneously slapped each of his brothers’ shoulder blades at the same time. ”Careful what you say, Konstanos. You’ll be old next.”
His teeth were showing brightly as he looked damn near jolly even with all the chaos that had been all around. Even with threats, deaths, and daughters spread around the map. He and his brothers were here and they were well… and he was trying to find the silver lining. Perhaps that was the key to staying healthy. Georgios did not like politics... or military... or probably anything that was going to be discussed - but he was happy to be included.
Months had been spent in bed after he had been so ill that he was at death’s doorstep. However, he had enough women in his life that loved him and must have made abundant offerings at any god or goddess that would spare the life of the middle Leventi brother. While he had been up and down on this roller coaster and unable to figure out what was actually plaguing him, he still tried to be as much of a father as he could manage.
It had only been recently that he had felt that he was finally better. The world seemed new. It seemed brighter in a way that he could hardly explain out loud. His five daughters were all growing up. Maybe he had been suffering just from a broken heart as he watched them all take on lives of their own. Georgios just had to come to terms with it all and stop allowing it to take over his mind and his body.
The telegram caused him to furrow his large brows as he read through it. A beckon to come to the Archontiko Mikaelidas. He could do that. Georgios could take it as a moment to come together with the other men that were likely invited and show that he was now well. He was ready to face whatever it was that they were going to meet and discuss. He could only imagine the numerous topics that they would cycle through… each and every one to probably involve one of his daughters or another. Their beauty could be argued into being a burden rather than the blessing he had always found joy in.
He was not far behind Konstanos. Though, he had kept himself a few strides behind and quiet so that he would be able to rush casually in after him and greet after his younger brother had his own moment. Georgios easily in earshot when he teased Fotios. A mischievous grin slipped across his lips as he came around and into the room swiftly coming up behind them.
Only a subtle inch taller than Fotios and bigger than Konstanos, Georgios had always had a different build than the pair of them. He stepped up behind them as they both held their wine. Big blue eyes watched to be sure that neither had the glasses to their lips - he was not in the business of surprising them to make a mess… that would be embarrassing before a big meeting. However, he was not solemn enough to let an opportunity pass. His palms simultaneously slapped each of his brothers’ shoulder blades at the same time. ”Careful what you say, Konstanos. You’ll be old next.”
His teeth were showing brightly as he looked damn near jolly even with all the chaos that had been all around. Even with threats, deaths, and daughters spread around the map. He and his brothers were here and they were well… and he was trying to find the silver lining. Perhaps that was the key to staying healthy. Georgios did not like politics... or military... or probably anything that was going to be discussed - but he was happy to be included.
Nikolias still felt a bit out of his element, perhaps because he wasn't as experienced with the military as other things,particularly after being wounded and nearly left for dead in the last war. But he had to admit this meeting would probably be easier than others. The fact that for once he and Fotios seemed to be in accord helped a lot. Nikolias had also pointed out that if it were not acknowledged and awarded, glory in war could possibly be essentially useless- almost as if one hadn't served at all- and that in order for glory to be acknowledged and awarded, it might be easier if the government were at least stable. With that in mind, he was eager to see what ideas Fotios had in order to protect the country while the king was away.
As he arrived and took a seat, though, it seemed that for the moment, the other men might be joking with each other. Georgios of Leventi was saying that Konstanos would be old next. Ha! Nikolias himself was five years older than Georgios! He couldn't resist adding to the conversation.
"Getting old is no laughing matter, indeed. On the other hand, ceasing to care what others might think of you as you age could indeed be a blessing- if we nobles were allowed to do so." He guffawed, indicating in his own way that he would try never to stop behaving as he should, despite the urge to do just that from time to time.
Including the current urge to potentially spit out the wine he'd just sipped. He resisted, though he did clear his throat a little after swallowing.
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Nikolias still felt a bit out of his element, perhaps because he wasn't as experienced with the military as other things,particularly after being wounded and nearly left for dead in the last war. But he had to admit this meeting would probably be easier than others. The fact that for once he and Fotios seemed to be in accord helped a lot. Nikolias had also pointed out that if it were not acknowledged and awarded, glory in war could possibly be essentially useless- almost as if one hadn't served at all- and that in order for glory to be acknowledged and awarded, it might be easier if the government were at least stable. With that in mind, he was eager to see what ideas Fotios had in order to protect the country while the king was away.
As he arrived and took a seat, though, it seemed that for the moment, the other men might be joking with each other. Georgios of Leventi was saying that Konstanos would be old next. Ha! Nikolias himself was five years older than Georgios! He couldn't resist adding to the conversation.
"Getting old is no laughing matter, indeed. On the other hand, ceasing to care what others might think of you as you age could indeed be a blessing- if we nobles were allowed to do so." He guffawed, indicating in his own way that he would try never to stop behaving as he should, despite the urge to do just that from time to time.
Including the current urge to potentially spit out the wine he'd just sipped. He resisted, though he did clear his throat a little after swallowing.
Nikolias still felt a bit out of his element, perhaps because he wasn't as experienced with the military as other things,particularly after being wounded and nearly left for dead in the last war. But he had to admit this meeting would probably be easier than others. The fact that for once he and Fotios seemed to be in accord helped a lot. Nikolias had also pointed out that if it were not acknowledged and awarded, glory in war could possibly be essentially useless- almost as if one hadn't served at all- and that in order for glory to be acknowledged and awarded, it might be easier if the government were at least stable. With that in mind, he was eager to see what ideas Fotios had in order to protect the country while the king was away.
As he arrived and took a seat, though, it seemed that for the moment, the other men might be joking with each other. Georgios of Leventi was saying that Konstanos would be old next. Ha! Nikolias himself was five years older than Georgios! He couldn't resist adding to the conversation.
"Getting old is no laughing matter, indeed. On the other hand, ceasing to care what others might think of you as you age could indeed be a blessing- if we nobles were allowed to do so." He guffawed, indicating in his own way that he would try never to stop behaving as he should, despite the urge to do just that from time to time.
Including the current urge to potentially spit out the wine he'd just sipped. He resisted, though he did clear his throat a little after swallowing.
Gavriil entered the room just as Nikolias was chuckling about getting old and sighed softly. He glanced at each man present, not really interested in having a conversation about age. An endless conversation about age. There was no point in going over their aches and pains, how it was harder to get out of bed in the morning these days, how their youth had flown by, the young men now didn’t get it. On and on and on. It wasn’t that he disliked any of the men here, but he had no patience for inane conversation that was essentially meaningless.
With features set in grim lines, he moved deeper into the room, choosing to stand for the moment. His eyes wandered the table but he did not touch the wine, nor have any intention of eating unless it would be rude not to. What he didn’t do was stand apart. Drawing nearer to the table, he glanced around, noting the absence of Prince Irakles. King Irakles? No. Prince. The man had been king for such a short period of time that it was too foreign a notion to think of him that way. But Gavriil had never been in this house without the larger than life presence of Irakles of Mikaelidas dominating the room. Without him it seemed empty. He did not miss the man and had never liked him, but that did not detract from the strange feeling the room had now.
He looked to Georgios then and nodded, a simple acknowledgement to the man’s health returning. The Leventi lord looked even better than he had at the wedding. To Fotios and Konstanos he nodded, and to Nikolias, he also gave a nod. Probably he should have been a bit more awkward around Fotios and Konstanos but he couldn’t bring himself to bother. Nikolias had a point - the older Gavriil got, the less he cared. Movement at the doorway made him half turn to see who it was coming in, and he had a momentary thought as he did so. Where was Lord Emilios? Shouldn’t he have been the first in the room? Or was he going to play the game like his father had and sweep in to be a huge presence? Or, worse, was he going to maintain his current wastrel reputation that he’d gained off his cousin’s back. Gavriil hoped not.
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Gavriil entered the room just as Nikolias was chuckling about getting old and sighed softly. He glanced at each man present, not really interested in having a conversation about age. An endless conversation about age. There was no point in going over their aches and pains, how it was harder to get out of bed in the morning these days, how their youth had flown by, the young men now didn’t get it. On and on and on. It wasn’t that he disliked any of the men here, but he had no patience for inane conversation that was essentially meaningless.
With features set in grim lines, he moved deeper into the room, choosing to stand for the moment. His eyes wandered the table but he did not touch the wine, nor have any intention of eating unless it would be rude not to. What he didn’t do was stand apart. Drawing nearer to the table, he glanced around, noting the absence of Prince Irakles. King Irakles? No. Prince. The man had been king for such a short period of time that it was too foreign a notion to think of him that way. But Gavriil had never been in this house without the larger than life presence of Irakles of Mikaelidas dominating the room. Without him it seemed empty. He did not miss the man and had never liked him, but that did not detract from the strange feeling the room had now.
He looked to Georgios then and nodded, a simple acknowledgement to the man’s health returning. The Leventi lord looked even better than he had at the wedding. To Fotios and Konstanos he nodded, and to Nikolias, he also gave a nod. Probably he should have been a bit more awkward around Fotios and Konstanos but he couldn’t bring himself to bother. Nikolias had a point - the older Gavriil got, the less he cared. Movement at the doorway made him half turn to see who it was coming in, and he had a momentary thought as he did so. Where was Lord Emilios? Shouldn’t he have been the first in the room? Or was he going to play the game like his father had and sweep in to be a huge presence? Or, worse, was he going to maintain his current wastrel reputation that he’d gained off his cousin’s back. Gavriil hoped not.
Gavriil entered the room just as Nikolias was chuckling about getting old and sighed softly. He glanced at each man present, not really interested in having a conversation about age. An endless conversation about age. There was no point in going over their aches and pains, how it was harder to get out of bed in the morning these days, how their youth had flown by, the young men now didn’t get it. On and on and on. It wasn’t that he disliked any of the men here, but he had no patience for inane conversation that was essentially meaningless.
With features set in grim lines, he moved deeper into the room, choosing to stand for the moment. His eyes wandered the table but he did not touch the wine, nor have any intention of eating unless it would be rude not to. What he didn’t do was stand apart. Drawing nearer to the table, he glanced around, noting the absence of Prince Irakles. King Irakles? No. Prince. The man had been king for such a short period of time that it was too foreign a notion to think of him that way. But Gavriil had never been in this house without the larger than life presence of Irakles of Mikaelidas dominating the room. Without him it seemed empty. He did not miss the man and had never liked him, but that did not detract from the strange feeling the room had now.
He looked to Georgios then and nodded, a simple acknowledgement to the man’s health returning. The Leventi lord looked even better than he had at the wedding. To Fotios and Konstanos he nodded, and to Nikolias, he also gave a nod. Probably he should have been a bit more awkward around Fotios and Konstanos but he couldn’t bring himself to bother. Nikolias had a point - the older Gavriil got, the less he cared. Movement at the doorway made him half turn to see who it was coming in, and he had a momentary thought as he did so. Where was Lord Emilios? Shouldn’t he have been the first in the room? Or was he going to play the game like his father had and sweep in to be a huge presence? Or, worse, was he going to maintain his current wastrel reputation that he’d gained off his cousin’s back. Gavriil hoped not.
Fotios looked up as his brother Konstanos entered the room, a curl to his lip indicating his amusement at the man's comments. He might be someone that was tricky to read by those who knew him little but his brothers had grown up with him, knew his every move and every habit. They would note the tiny distinction of humour in his expression where others would not notice it. Just as they had all grown up to learn the minute fore-warnings of Serafim's anger at a young age. Such things were instinctive through human proximity.
Opening his mouth to reply, Fotios was lost the opportunity when his other brother joined the party and came over looking as if he had lost about half his weight but otherwise healthy and vibrant in his expression. Clearly the Gods had chosen to spare Georgios from the edge of death, for which Fotios could not help but be profoundly grateful.
Not a man to share his emotions openly, Fotios could not deny an affection that still existed, despite a lack of verbalisation. He had grown up with his brothers, protected them from their father's wrath and given each in turn positions of power within the House that he did not regret giving them. It was true that he manipulated their minds and choices where he thought it significant for the prosperity of the House but, to Fotios, that seemed little different from when their daughters manipulated their sentimentalities for new dresses or jewels. At least his manipulations benefitted all that shared their name, not just himself.
Taking a sip of the wine that was so significantly subpar it was clearly Condos wine, Fotios swallowed the palette with regret and then tilted a look towards Konstanos as if to say - He has a point... - to the man. For, whilst Georgios was the second born and would be the next to grow old in years, he possessed a youth and spirit that had always made him feel like the youngest of the three. Konstanos was surely the one to hit old age next.
When Nikolias entered the room, Fotios was almost annoyed when he spoke the very words that he had been thinking - that distinction and a lack of care over what others thought had perhaps eked into his behaviour, rather than old age stilling his skills in etiquette.
He wondered if the man would have been so eager to offer the explanation if he had heard the start of the conversation and knew it was over the taste of his family's wine.
"I cannot help but agree, Nikolias." Fotios offered with a look of acceptance and amiability. "Age does not always equate to wisdom, after all." And then he turned to look to his brothers, a knowing expression in his eyes.
After a moment's pause, in which he took another mouthful from his cup, and Lord Gavriil entered the room, Fotios changed the topic before argument could be made.
"Yet, it is the young that rule the world." He stated, with a glance towards the door, waiting on the Crown Prince's arrival. "And we must offer only the experience of our years for them to be ignored where such youth determines." His tone was one of lamentation and mirth - as if to say, that was the way the world had worked when they were the young and ambitious and was still the way it operated now...
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Fotios looked up as his brother Konstanos entered the room, a curl to his lip indicating his amusement at the man's comments. He might be someone that was tricky to read by those who knew him little but his brothers had grown up with him, knew his every move and every habit. They would note the tiny distinction of humour in his expression where others would not notice it. Just as they had all grown up to learn the minute fore-warnings of Serafim's anger at a young age. Such things were instinctive through human proximity.
Opening his mouth to reply, Fotios was lost the opportunity when his other brother joined the party and came over looking as if he had lost about half his weight but otherwise healthy and vibrant in his expression. Clearly the Gods had chosen to spare Georgios from the edge of death, for which Fotios could not help but be profoundly grateful.
Not a man to share his emotions openly, Fotios could not deny an affection that still existed, despite a lack of verbalisation. He had grown up with his brothers, protected them from their father's wrath and given each in turn positions of power within the House that he did not regret giving them. It was true that he manipulated their minds and choices where he thought it significant for the prosperity of the House but, to Fotios, that seemed little different from when their daughters manipulated their sentimentalities for new dresses or jewels. At least his manipulations benefitted all that shared their name, not just himself.
Taking a sip of the wine that was so significantly subpar it was clearly Condos wine, Fotios swallowed the palette with regret and then tilted a look towards Konstanos as if to say - He has a point... - to the man. For, whilst Georgios was the second born and would be the next to grow old in years, he possessed a youth and spirit that had always made him feel like the youngest of the three. Konstanos was surely the one to hit old age next.
When Nikolias entered the room, Fotios was almost annoyed when he spoke the very words that he had been thinking - that distinction and a lack of care over what others thought had perhaps eked into his behaviour, rather than old age stilling his skills in etiquette.
He wondered if the man would have been so eager to offer the explanation if he had heard the start of the conversation and knew it was over the taste of his family's wine.
"I cannot help but agree, Nikolias." Fotios offered with a look of acceptance and amiability. "Age does not always equate to wisdom, after all." And then he turned to look to his brothers, a knowing expression in his eyes.
After a moment's pause, in which he took another mouthful from his cup, and Lord Gavriil entered the room, Fotios changed the topic before argument could be made.
"Yet, it is the young that rule the world." He stated, with a glance towards the door, waiting on the Crown Prince's arrival. "And we must offer only the experience of our years for them to be ignored where such youth determines." His tone was one of lamentation and mirth - as if to say, that was the way the world had worked when they were the young and ambitious and was still the way it operated now...
Fotios looked up as his brother Konstanos entered the room, a curl to his lip indicating his amusement at the man's comments. He might be someone that was tricky to read by those who knew him little but his brothers had grown up with him, knew his every move and every habit. They would note the tiny distinction of humour in his expression where others would not notice it. Just as they had all grown up to learn the minute fore-warnings of Serafim's anger at a young age. Such things were instinctive through human proximity.
Opening his mouth to reply, Fotios was lost the opportunity when his other brother joined the party and came over looking as if he had lost about half his weight but otherwise healthy and vibrant in his expression. Clearly the Gods had chosen to spare Georgios from the edge of death, for which Fotios could not help but be profoundly grateful.
Not a man to share his emotions openly, Fotios could not deny an affection that still existed, despite a lack of verbalisation. He had grown up with his brothers, protected them from their father's wrath and given each in turn positions of power within the House that he did not regret giving them. It was true that he manipulated their minds and choices where he thought it significant for the prosperity of the House but, to Fotios, that seemed little different from when their daughters manipulated their sentimentalities for new dresses or jewels. At least his manipulations benefitted all that shared their name, not just himself.
Taking a sip of the wine that was so significantly subpar it was clearly Condos wine, Fotios swallowed the palette with regret and then tilted a look towards Konstanos as if to say - He has a point... - to the man. For, whilst Georgios was the second born and would be the next to grow old in years, he possessed a youth and spirit that had always made him feel like the youngest of the three. Konstanos was surely the one to hit old age next.
When Nikolias entered the room, Fotios was almost annoyed when he spoke the very words that he had been thinking - that distinction and a lack of care over what others thought had perhaps eked into his behaviour, rather than old age stilling his skills in etiquette.
He wondered if the man would have been so eager to offer the explanation if he had heard the start of the conversation and knew it was over the taste of his family's wine.
"I cannot help but agree, Nikolias." Fotios offered with a look of acceptance and amiability. "Age does not always equate to wisdom, after all." And then he turned to look to his brothers, a knowing expression in his eyes.
After a moment's pause, in which he took another mouthful from his cup, and Lord Gavriil entered the room, Fotios changed the topic before argument could be made.
"Yet, it is the young that rule the world." He stated, with a glance towards the door, waiting on the Crown Prince's arrival. "And we must offer only the experience of our years for them to be ignored where such youth determines." His tone was one of lamentation and mirth - as if to say, that was the way the world had worked when they were the young and ambitious and was still the way it operated now...
While the rest had merely been fodder between a bunch of aging men, the last of which Fotios had to say was heavy on his mind. He didn't think that any of his daughters should have been thrust into the crown so quickly and so young. They were barely able to allow their marriages to blossom under less stress and with the Queen to give them guidance. That wisdom held by the elder generation that was also mentioned. Georgios had learned to love and get along with his wife on almost all aspects... but that had taken time. Time that these who were about to go to war did not have.
His hand wrapped around an ornate goblet and pressed it to his lips to taste the wine that had been provided. However, the middle Leventi was not picky. Everything tasted better now. It was a near death experience that had made food better, drink amazing, and enjoying his wife all he could keep on his mind.
However, he was invited to this meeting and here he was to offer what support he could while he would not go off. Neither did any of these men. Tangaea needed them? That was up to debate and not one that he wanted to engage in currently. He stifled any more words that he might speak out of turn with another sip of the wine. It was chaste as he wouldn't be one to act complete a fool by gulping up such drink.
"Is that why we have gathered?" His brow raised on the lift with a smirk pulling at his lip to the same side. A hand brushed across his heavy himation striped with white, gold, and purple. Evelli had made sure that he would be set no matter where she was. Lined up in a way that for long enough he could suffice with just grabbing the next one that was folded and he would still look presentable to any meeting he was required to appear at. But, did Fotios really want his opinion? Or was this merely a moment where Georgios could sit at the table and just acknowledge that he was here.
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While the rest had merely been fodder between a bunch of aging men, the last of which Fotios had to say was heavy on his mind. He didn't think that any of his daughters should have been thrust into the crown so quickly and so young. They were barely able to allow their marriages to blossom under less stress and with the Queen to give them guidance. That wisdom held by the elder generation that was also mentioned. Georgios had learned to love and get along with his wife on almost all aspects... but that had taken time. Time that these who were about to go to war did not have.
His hand wrapped around an ornate goblet and pressed it to his lips to taste the wine that had been provided. However, the middle Leventi was not picky. Everything tasted better now. It was a near death experience that had made food better, drink amazing, and enjoying his wife all he could keep on his mind.
However, he was invited to this meeting and here he was to offer what support he could while he would not go off. Neither did any of these men. Tangaea needed them? That was up to debate and not one that he wanted to engage in currently. He stifled any more words that he might speak out of turn with another sip of the wine. It was chaste as he wouldn't be one to act complete a fool by gulping up such drink.
"Is that why we have gathered?" His brow raised on the lift with a smirk pulling at his lip to the same side. A hand brushed across his heavy himation striped with white, gold, and purple. Evelli had made sure that he would be set no matter where she was. Lined up in a way that for long enough he could suffice with just grabbing the next one that was folded and he would still look presentable to any meeting he was required to appear at. But, did Fotios really want his opinion? Or was this merely a moment where Georgios could sit at the table and just acknowledge that he was here.
While the rest had merely been fodder between a bunch of aging men, the last of which Fotios had to say was heavy on his mind. He didn't think that any of his daughters should have been thrust into the crown so quickly and so young. They were barely able to allow their marriages to blossom under less stress and with the Queen to give them guidance. That wisdom held by the elder generation that was also mentioned. Georgios had learned to love and get along with his wife on almost all aspects... but that had taken time. Time that these who were about to go to war did not have.
His hand wrapped around an ornate goblet and pressed it to his lips to taste the wine that had been provided. However, the middle Leventi was not picky. Everything tasted better now. It was a near death experience that had made food better, drink amazing, and enjoying his wife all he could keep on his mind.
However, he was invited to this meeting and here he was to offer what support he could while he would not go off. Neither did any of these men. Tangaea needed them? That was up to debate and not one that he wanted to engage in currently. He stifled any more words that he might speak out of turn with another sip of the wine. It was chaste as he wouldn't be one to act complete a fool by gulping up such drink.
"Is that why we have gathered?" His brow raised on the lift with a smirk pulling at his lip to the same side. A hand brushed across his heavy himation striped with white, gold, and purple. Evelli had made sure that he would be set no matter where she was. Lined up in a way that for long enough he could suffice with just grabbing the next one that was folded and he would still look presentable to any meeting he was required to appear at. But, did Fotios really want his opinion? Or was this merely a moment where Georgios could sit at the table and just acknowledge that he was here.
Fotios smiled at his brother's comments. For the man was right to be so cynical in so short a sentence. If the youth were to ignore the advice of those more experienced then was there any real purpose in those of age and wisdom collating in a way to offer advice to be ignored? Or was there some other purpose to such a union? Fotios was not unaware that several of the men had last been present in a group such as this to decide to usurp a king, accusing him of treason and removing his lineage's right to the throne. Yet, this would be no such sneaking liaison. Now was the time for Fotios to show loyalty to the acting regent and their absent monarch. Else a reputation of traitorous rebel would start to fall at his door.
"I think, brother, that regardless of notice, it is important to offer the chance to be ignored to the youth of today." He stated, carefully, fully aware that Emilios had yet to arrive at the meet. "But as young men are so... competitive. I think it wise that we create some sort of plan that we can present to the Regent as a singular solution. Else the Prince might feel... outnumbered by our collective expertise." He glanced between his two brothers, then to Nikolias and to Gavriil. "Let us not allow defensive posturing to render the Prince unable to accept at least a portion of our experience."
With a gesture of his hand, Fotios encouraged those who were in attendance so far to collect the drink of their preference, if it had not already been secured, and then take a collective seat around the room on chaise, cushions or chairs as they saw fit. Fotios took the end of one of the chaise, allowing the arm of the structure to support the hand that held a cup of substandard wine.
"Our first consideration should surely be to the physical defence of the capitol?" He suggested, this time, his words not a statement of certainty but an open question to the other men in the room. Fotios was not a dictator nor a strong public speaker of pomp and power. Instead, he was a mediator, a swayer and a man who could twist and play games with the words of others. He was there to grease the wheels of effective and productive discussion. Then, when the Prince arrived, they would have something backed by all of them and able to be presented as a packaged to solution to an inexperienced Regent... whom Fotios would ensure agreed to the proposal arranged by the men in this room.
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Fotios smiled at his brother's comments. For the man was right to be so cynical in so short a sentence. If the youth were to ignore the advice of those more experienced then was there any real purpose in those of age and wisdom collating in a way to offer advice to be ignored? Or was there some other purpose to such a union? Fotios was not unaware that several of the men had last been present in a group such as this to decide to usurp a king, accusing him of treason and removing his lineage's right to the throne. Yet, this would be no such sneaking liaison. Now was the time for Fotios to show loyalty to the acting regent and their absent monarch. Else a reputation of traitorous rebel would start to fall at his door.
"I think, brother, that regardless of notice, it is important to offer the chance to be ignored to the youth of today." He stated, carefully, fully aware that Emilios had yet to arrive at the meet. "But as young men are so... competitive. I think it wise that we create some sort of plan that we can present to the Regent as a singular solution. Else the Prince might feel... outnumbered by our collective expertise." He glanced between his two brothers, then to Nikolias and to Gavriil. "Let us not allow defensive posturing to render the Prince unable to accept at least a portion of our experience."
With a gesture of his hand, Fotios encouraged those who were in attendance so far to collect the drink of their preference, if it had not already been secured, and then take a collective seat around the room on chaise, cushions or chairs as they saw fit. Fotios took the end of one of the chaise, allowing the arm of the structure to support the hand that held a cup of substandard wine.
"Our first consideration should surely be to the physical defence of the capitol?" He suggested, this time, his words not a statement of certainty but an open question to the other men in the room. Fotios was not a dictator nor a strong public speaker of pomp and power. Instead, he was a mediator, a swayer and a man who could twist and play games with the words of others. He was there to grease the wheels of effective and productive discussion. Then, when the Prince arrived, they would have something backed by all of them and able to be presented as a packaged to solution to an inexperienced Regent... whom Fotios would ensure agreed to the proposal arranged by the men in this room.
Fotios smiled at his brother's comments. For the man was right to be so cynical in so short a sentence. If the youth were to ignore the advice of those more experienced then was there any real purpose in those of age and wisdom collating in a way to offer advice to be ignored? Or was there some other purpose to such a union? Fotios was not unaware that several of the men had last been present in a group such as this to decide to usurp a king, accusing him of treason and removing his lineage's right to the throne. Yet, this would be no such sneaking liaison. Now was the time for Fotios to show loyalty to the acting regent and their absent monarch. Else a reputation of traitorous rebel would start to fall at his door.
"I think, brother, that regardless of notice, it is important to offer the chance to be ignored to the youth of today." He stated, carefully, fully aware that Emilios had yet to arrive at the meet. "But as young men are so... competitive. I think it wise that we create some sort of plan that we can present to the Regent as a singular solution. Else the Prince might feel... outnumbered by our collective expertise." He glanced between his two brothers, then to Nikolias and to Gavriil. "Let us not allow defensive posturing to render the Prince unable to accept at least a portion of our experience."
With a gesture of his hand, Fotios encouraged those who were in attendance so far to collect the drink of their preference, if it had not already been secured, and then take a collective seat around the room on chaise, cushions or chairs as they saw fit. Fotios took the end of one of the chaise, allowing the arm of the structure to support the hand that held a cup of substandard wine.
"Our first consideration should surely be to the physical defence of the capitol?" He suggested, this time, his words not a statement of certainty but an open question to the other men in the room. Fotios was not a dictator nor a strong public speaker of pomp and power. Instead, he was a mediator, a swayer and a man who could twist and play games with the words of others. He was there to grease the wheels of effective and productive discussion. Then, when the Prince arrived, they would have something backed by all of them and able to be presented as a packaged to solution to an inexperienced Regent... whom Fotios would ensure agreed to the proposal arranged by the men in this room.
The youngest of the Leventi brothers was a worrier by nature and frequently found himself overthinking many situations and analyzing every possible outcome. He lacked the decisiveness of his oldest brother and had been denied the charm and easy likability that Georgios possessed, but what he lacked in those he made up for with his ability to blend into his surroundings with a quietness that made you wonder if he’d ever been there at all. Perhaps, it was a blessing. People listened to what Fotios had to say whether they liked him or not and people liked Georgios' easy charm… and he on the other hand had always been the boy, now the man, who lingered on the fringe quietly watching but rarely participating. Maybe that made him a coward… He didn’t take stances on things. He wasn’t the sort of life gambler that his wife was… It was true he didn’t win very much but then again… Konstanos didn’t usually lose either.
The words were barely out of his mouth when the shadow of his taller middle brother appeared with that shaggy dog grin on his lips. Georgio’s hand shot out and landed on each of his brother’s backs, ‘Careful what you say, Konstanos. You’ll be old next.’ Konstanos opened his mouth to say something along the lines of already feeling old but the Condos head of the family, Nikolias tossed out his few coins worth of opinion on it, ‘Getting old is no laughing matter, indeed. On the other hand, ceasing to care what others might think of you as you age could indeed be a blessing- if we nobles were allowed to do so.’ A retort about not thinking much about the Condos Lord lingered on his tips but he swallowed it back and looked down into his wine and just smiled faintly.
The shallow tilt of Fotios’ head was not missed. ‘I cannot help but agree, Nikolias.’ Konstanos’ head lifted again to glance at Fotios and then settle an almost sleepy-eyed look on the Condos Lord and his brother continued, ‘Age does not always equate to wisdom, after all.’ Would the Condo’s Lord understand what his brother had said in rather polite terms? His gaze flicked to Fotios and gave an amused shake of his head of it all. Fotios was just toying with Nikolias. But, true to his brother’s nature… Fotios took charge of the room even before the young Prince had arrived.
‘Yet, it is the young that rule the world.’ Konstanos’ gaze flicked around the room, it was a cheeky thing for the prince to be so late to his own gathering. ‘And we must offer only the experience of our years for them to be ignored where such youth determines.’ Shifting his weight a little, he glanced at Georgios as he spoke to Fotios and then settled his look back onto his older brother curiously. At his brother’s reply, he felt his breath sucked in and the need to take another deep sip of the wine. So it was a soft sort of intervention, he thought as the wine rolled down the back of his tongue and into his throat. It wasn’t a bad idea. Prince Emilios had never carried so much responsibility in his life… if he was wise he’d take their advice into consideration and let the generations of the past be his guiding light. The fate of the capital was a piss poor time to be trying to learn what it meant to be responsible. After all it appeared the young Prince couldn’t even make it to his meetings on time… how did they ever expect him to manage an entire country in his brother’s absences.
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The youngest of the Leventi brothers was a worrier by nature and frequently found himself overthinking many situations and analyzing every possible outcome. He lacked the decisiveness of his oldest brother and had been denied the charm and easy likability that Georgios possessed, but what he lacked in those he made up for with his ability to blend into his surroundings with a quietness that made you wonder if he’d ever been there at all. Perhaps, it was a blessing. People listened to what Fotios had to say whether they liked him or not and people liked Georgios' easy charm… and he on the other hand had always been the boy, now the man, who lingered on the fringe quietly watching but rarely participating. Maybe that made him a coward… He didn’t take stances on things. He wasn’t the sort of life gambler that his wife was… It was true he didn’t win very much but then again… Konstanos didn’t usually lose either.
The words were barely out of his mouth when the shadow of his taller middle brother appeared with that shaggy dog grin on his lips. Georgio’s hand shot out and landed on each of his brother’s backs, ‘Careful what you say, Konstanos. You’ll be old next.’ Konstanos opened his mouth to say something along the lines of already feeling old but the Condos head of the family, Nikolias tossed out his few coins worth of opinion on it, ‘Getting old is no laughing matter, indeed. On the other hand, ceasing to care what others might think of you as you age could indeed be a blessing- if we nobles were allowed to do so.’ A retort about not thinking much about the Condos Lord lingered on his tips but he swallowed it back and looked down into his wine and just smiled faintly.
The shallow tilt of Fotios’ head was not missed. ‘I cannot help but agree, Nikolias.’ Konstanos’ head lifted again to glance at Fotios and then settle an almost sleepy-eyed look on the Condos Lord and his brother continued, ‘Age does not always equate to wisdom, after all.’ Would the Condo’s Lord understand what his brother had said in rather polite terms? His gaze flicked to Fotios and gave an amused shake of his head of it all. Fotios was just toying with Nikolias. But, true to his brother’s nature… Fotios took charge of the room even before the young Prince had arrived.
‘Yet, it is the young that rule the world.’ Konstanos’ gaze flicked around the room, it was a cheeky thing for the prince to be so late to his own gathering. ‘And we must offer only the experience of our years for them to be ignored where such youth determines.’ Shifting his weight a little, he glanced at Georgios as he spoke to Fotios and then settled his look back onto his older brother curiously. At his brother’s reply, he felt his breath sucked in and the need to take another deep sip of the wine. So it was a soft sort of intervention, he thought as the wine rolled down the back of his tongue and into his throat. It wasn’t a bad idea. Prince Emilios had never carried so much responsibility in his life… if he was wise he’d take their advice into consideration and let the generations of the past be his guiding light. The fate of the capital was a piss poor time to be trying to learn what it meant to be responsible. After all it appeared the young Prince couldn’t even make it to his meetings on time… how did they ever expect him to manage an entire country in his brother’s absences.
The youngest of the Leventi brothers was a worrier by nature and frequently found himself overthinking many situations and analyzing every possible outcome. He lacked the decisiveness of his oldest brother and had been denied the charm and easy likability that Georgios possessed, but what he lacked in those he made up for with his ability to blend into his surroundings with a quietness that made you wonder if he’d ever been there at all. Perhaps, it was a blessing. People listened to what Fotios had to say whether they liked him or not and people liked Georgios' easy charm… and he on the other hand had always been the boy, now the man, who lingered on the fringe quietly watching but rarely participating. Maybe that made him a coward… He didn’t take stances on things. He wasn’t the sort of life gambler that his wife was… It was true he didn’t win very much but then again… Konstanos didn’t usually lose either.
The words were barely out of his mouth when the shadow of his taller middle brother appeared with that shaggy dog grin on his lips. Georgio’s hand shot out and landed on each of his brother’s backs, ‘Careful what you say, Konstanos. You’ll be old next.’ Konstanos opened his mouth to say something along the lines of already feeling old but the Condos head of the family, Nikolias tossed out his few coins worth of opinion on it, ‘Getting old is no laughing matter, indeed. On the other hand, ceasing to care what others might think of you as you age could indeed be a blessing- if we nobles were allowed to do so.’ A retort about not thinking much about the Condos Lord lingered on his tips but he swallowed it back and looked down into his wine and just smiled faintly.
The shallow tilt of Fotios’ head was not missed. ‘I cannot help but agree, Nikolias.’ Konstanos’ head lifted again to glance at Fotios and then settle an almost sleepy-eyed look on the Condos Lord and his brother continued, ‘Age does not always equate to wisdom, after all.’ Would the Condo’s Lord understand what his brother had said in rather polite terms? His gaze flicked to Fotios and gave an amused shake of his head of it all. Fotios was just toying with Nikolias. But, true to his brother’s nature… Fotios took charge of the room even before the young Prince had arrived.
‘Yet, it is the young that rule the world.’ Konstanos’ gaze flicked around the room, it was a cheeky thing for the prince to be so late to his own gathering. ‘And we must offer only the experience of our years for them to be ignored where such youth determines.’ Shifting his weight a little, he glanced at Georgios as he spoke to Fotios and then settled his look back onto his older brother curiously. At his brother’s reply, he felt his breath sucked in and the need to take another deep sip of the wine. So it was a soft sort of intervention, he thought as the wine rolled down the back of his tongue and into his throat. It wasn’t a bad idea. Prince Emilios had never carried so much responsibility in his life… if he was wise he’d take their advice into consideration and let the generations of the past be his guiding light. The fate of the capital was a piss poor time to be trying to learn what it meant to be responsible. After all it appeared the young Prince couldn’t even make it to his meetings on time… how did they ever expect him to manage an entire country in his brother’s absences.
While Nikolias mostly only listened, he did agree with Fotios' words that the first concern should be the defense of the capital, even though they might have been interpreted as a suggestion rather than a certain direction.
"Undoubtedly so, Lord Fotios. Not least because our king was so recently crowned, so it seems to me personally that, to some extent, we might be considered vulnerable to any attack whatsoever, not just one coordinated by the Egyptians as a consequence of war. A vulnerability is a vulnerability, no matter its cause."
He meant no offense to Achilleas at all, but it felt like a sad fact. News of political tension anywhere was likely to spread anywhere in the known world. By now, he felt sure Achilleas knew this, yet he felt bound to reiterate it for the sake of everyone at this meeting. He felt if they really cared about Taengea, everyone should at least acknowledge the possibility that war was not their only problem at the moment.
Good gods, what a mess the country was currently in, in general, never mind with war on the very near horizon.
It was, Nikolias felt, no secret that the walls of the city perhaps needed to be reinforced, if not rebuilt entirely. He saw no reason to mention it, as it seemed it might be obvious to everyone in the room anyway. The question, in his mind, was, what else could be done, and whom might be in charge of each job that needed to be completed.
Nikolias indeed suspected that Fotios might be toying with him, as Konstanos seemed to be implying, but he felt there was no time at the moment to care about such things. Today of all days, the safety of the country seemed to matter more than any rivalry between noble houses. The safety of the country was presumably why they were all here, after all.
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While Nikolias mostly only listened, he did agree with Fotios' words that the first concern should be the defense of the capital, even though they might have been interpreted as a suggestion rather than a certain direction.
"Undoubtedly so, Lord Fotios. Not least because our king was so recently crowned, so it seems to me personally that, to some extent, we might be considered vulnerable to any attack whatsoever, not just one coordinated by the Egyptians as a consequence of war. A vulnerability is a vulnerability, no matter its cause."
He meant no offense to Achilleas at all, but it felt like a sad fact. News of political tension anywhere was likely to spread anywhere in the known world. By now, he felt sure Achilleas knew this, yet he felt bound to reiterate it for the sake of everyone at this meeting. He felt if they really cared about Taengea, everyone should at least acknowledge the possibility that war was not their only problem at the moment.
Good gods, what a mess the country was currently in, in general, never mind with war on the very near horizon.
It was, Nikolias felt, no secret that the walls of the city perhaps needed to be reinforced, if not rebuilt entirely. He saw no reason to mention it, as it seemed it might be obvious to everyone in the room anyway. The question, in his mind, was, what else could be done, and whom might be in charge of each job that needed to be completed.
Nikolias indeed suspected that Fotios might be toying with him, as Konstanos seemed to be implying, but he felt there was no time at the moment to care about such things. Today of all days, the safety of the country seemed to matter more than any rivalry between noble houses. The safety of the country was presumably why they were all here, after all.
While Nikolias mostly only listened, he did agree with Fotios' words that the first concern should be the defense of the capital, even though they might have been interpreted as a suggestion rather than a certain direction.
"Undoubtedly so, Lord Fotios. Not least because our king was so recently crowned, so it seems to me personally that, to some extent, we might be considered vulnerable to any attack whatsoever, not just one coordinated by the Egyptians as a consequence of war. A vulnerability is a vulnerability, no matter its cause."
He meant no offense to Achilleas at all, but it felt like a sad fact. News of political tension anywhere was likely to spread anywhere in the known world. By now, he felt sure Achilleas knew this, yet he felt bound to reiterate it for the sake of everyone at this meeting. He felt if they really cared about Taengea, everyone should at least acknowledge the possibility that war was not their only problem at the moment.
Good gods, what a mess the country was currently in, in general, never mind with war on the very near horizon.
It was, Nikolias felt, no secret that the walls of the city perhaps needed to be reinforced, if not rebuilt entirely. He saw no reason to mention it, as it seemed it might be obvious to everyone in the room anyway. The question, in his mind, was, what else could be done, and whom might be in charge of each job that needed to be completed.
Nikolias indeed suspected that Fotios might be toying with him, as Konstanos seemed to be implying, but he felt there was no time at the moment to care about such things. Today of all days, the safety of the country seemed to matter more than any rivalry between noble houses. The safety of the country was presumably why they were all here, after all.
Fotios watched as the other men in the room mingled and discussed in low tones the sort of non-committal mentions that always passed between men of action when their leader was not in attendance. Men of experience and discipline who wanted to see something come of their time and yet were unable to work through such things when the Prince of the Realm had yet to grace them with his presence.
It was for this reason that Fotios had suggested the beginning of a conversation and chose to discuss something practical. At least in this manner they could all feel that they were doing something of use and present to the prince something of note rather than simply feedback on the man's wine reserves.
When the Lord Nikolias spoke up to agree with him over the choice of topic, Fotios watched and waited for him to add something of use but, of course, as to be expected from a Condos he did not. Simply stated that something needed to be done - which they all already knew - and then offered nothing further.
"Thank you for rephrasing my suggestion, Lord Nikolias." Fotios offered slyly, drinking from his cup. His eyes lit upon the Dimitrou lord who had wisely kept to his own words and company since his entry to the room, not wishing to make waves or issue until he had ascertained the position of the others in attendance. Fotios often did the same but when the Lords were mincing and avoiding anything useful, he was forced to break his habits of quiet and speak out. His need for progress and efficiency overtaking his normally quieter role in the shadows.
"Lord Gavriil... Should Meganea be able to relinquish some of your fine trees for fortifications?" He asked, his tone open and considerate. "My instinct is to see the beaches around the capitol impenetrable from enemy craft. It would force the enemy into small boats to dock or to swim to shore. Either way they would be at the mercy of our archers from the walls of the city. It feels, to me, to be the first logical step in defence, does it not?" This last question he looked around as if to put it to the collective opinion of the room.
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Fotios watched as the other men in the room mingled and discussed in low tones the sort of non-committal mentions that always passed between men of action when their leader was not in attendance. Men of experience and discipline who wanted to see something come of their time and yet were unable to work through such things when the Prince of the Realm had yet to grace them with his presence.
It was for this reason that Fotios had suggested the beginning of a conversation and chose to discuss something practical. At least in this manner they could all feel that they were doing something of use and present to the prince something of note rather than simply feedback on the man's wine reserves.
When the Lord Nikolias spoke up to agree with him over the choice of topic, Fotios watched and waited for him to add something of use but, of course, as to be expected from a Condos he did not. Simply stated that something needed to be done - which they all already knew - and then offered nothing further.
"Thank you for rephrasing my suggestion, Lord Nikolias." Fotios offered slyly, drinking from his cup. His eyes lit upon the Dimitrou lord who had wisely kept to his own words and company since his entry to the room, not wishing to make waves or issue until he had ascertained the position of the others in attendance. Fotios often did the same but when the Lords were mincing and avoiding anything useful, he was forced to break his habits of quiet and speak out. His need for progress and efficiency overtaking his normally quieter role in the shadows.
"Lord Gavriil... Should Meganea be able to relinquish some of your fine trees for fortifications?" He asked, his tone open and considerate. "My instinct is to see the beaches around the capitol impenetrable from enemy craft. It would force the enemy into small boats to dock or to swim to shore. Either way they would be at the mercy of our archers from the walls of the city. It feels, to me, to be the first logical step in defence, does it not?" This last question he looked around as if to put it to the collective opinion of the room.
Fotios watched as the other men in the room mingled and discussed in low tones the sort of non-committal mentions that always passed between men of action when their leader was not in attendance. Men of experience and discipline who wanted to see something come of their time and yet were unable to work through such things when the Prince of the Realm had yet to grace them with his presence.
It was for this reason that Fotios had suggested the beginning of a conversation and chose to discuss something practical. At least in this manner they could all feel that they were doing something of use and present to the prince something of note rather than simply feedback on the man's wine reserves.
When the Lord Nikolias spoke up to agree with him over the choice of topic, Fotios watched and waited for him to add something of use but, of course, as to be expected from a Condos he did not. Simply stated that something needed to be done - which they all already knew - and then offered nothing further.
"Thank you for rephrasing my suggestion, Lord Nikolias." Fotios offered slyly, drinking from his cup. His eyes lit upon the Dimitrou lord who had wisely kept to his own words and company since his entry to the room, not wishing to make waves or issue until he had ascertained the position of the others in attendance. Fotios often did the same but when the Lords were mincing and avoiding anything useful, he was forced to break his habits of quiet and speak out. His need for progress and efficiency overtaking his normally quieter role in the shadows.
"Lord Gavriil... Should Meganea be able to relinquish some of your fine trees for fortifications?" He asked, his tone open and considerate. "My instinct is to see the beaches around the capitol impenetrable from enemy craft. It would force the enemy into small boats to dock or to swim to shore. Either way they would be at the mercy of our archers from the walls of the city. It feels, to me, to be the first logical step in defence, does it not?" This last question he looked around as if to put it to the collective opinion of the room.
There was a bitterness in those who assumed that Emilios lacked any sort of military understanding. He may not have been someone who had a barony to manage, but he had been a leader of his men, all whom trusted him in the heat of battle. But none of those men were at his side now. No, all were with his brother, taking commands from the new king, while he sat back and protected the home front.
Maybe that was the real root of his frustration.
Or maybe it was that Emilios was not even given a chance to convene the senior heads of house before Fotios of Leventi had sent off a letter on his behalf to host such a gathering. There was much to do, and he had thought he was managing it quite well. The day he was preparing a letter to the men who gathered in his solar now was the day he was given the letter. Like many of the letters he received from Fotios, it went into the fire the moment after it was read. The man liked to make it known that he still was ‘in charge’ of the youngest Mikaelidas boy.
Damn him.
He could not be mad at the man for arranging it all. The prince, in his more content moments, could almost consider the man his groom. Making sure all the pieces were in place, handling the dirty work while he focused on the finer details-- it made his dreams far more pleasant to think of the man as his servant rather than the other way around. One day, once this was all over, he vowed to punch the man, just to make himself feel better.
He never considered himself a peacock, but today he took the time to dress the part. The fine silks of his chiton and himation flowed over his shoulder, pinned to his chest with a lion broach, ruby eyes staring as if to beg those to challenge him. While he may not have been a man who picked his house’s colors, he did today, knowing that he wanted to make a statement to anyone who looked at him-- The Mikaelidas family was strong.
That was half the reason he was positioned at the top of the landing, watching silently as the men made their way out towards his gardens. Hidden in the shadows, no one noticed him. He was pleased that the men seemed to arrive before his cousin and sister-in-law. The united front that the trio could show walking into the meeting was one he was counting on. He hoped that it let the people who may think the house was broken to realize they were on the same page.
Once the last of the men were in the back, he made his way down the stairs, waiting for the arrival of both Theodora and Xene.
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There was a bitterness in those who assumed that Emilios lacked any sort of military understanding. He may not have been someone who had a barony to manage, but he had been a leader of his men, all whom trusted him in the heat of battle. But none of those men were at his side now. No, all were with his brother, taking commands from the new king, while he sat back and protected the home front.
Maybe that was the real root of his frustration.
Or maybe it was that Emilios was not even given a chance to convene the senior heads of house before Fotios of Leventi had sent off a letter on his behalf to host such a gathering. There was much to do, and he had thought he was managing it quite well. The day he was preparing a letter to the men who gathered in his solar now was the day he was given the letter. Like many of the letters he received from Fotios, it went into the fire the moment after it was read. The man liked to make it known that he still was ‘in charge’ of the youngest Mikaelidas boy.
Damn him.
He could not be mad at the man for arranging it all. The prince, in his more content moments, could almost consider the man his groom. Making sure all the pieces were in place, handling the dirty work while he focused on the finer details-- it made his dreams far more pleasant to think of the man as his servant rather than the other way around. One day, once this was all over, he vowed to punch the man, just to make himself feel better.
He never considered himself a peacock, but today he took the time to dress the part. The fine silks of his chiton and himation flowed over his shoulder, pinned to his chest with a lion broach, ruby eyes staring as if to beg those to challenge him. While he may not have been a man who picked his house’s colors, he did today, knowing that he wanted to make a statement to anyone who looked at him-- The Mikaelidas family was strong.
That was half the reason he was positioned at the top of the landing, watching silently as the men made their way out towards his gardens. Hidden in the shadows, no one noticed him. He was pleased that the men seemed to arrive before his cousin and sister-in-law. The united front that the trio could show walking into the meeting was one he was counting on. He hoped that it let the people who may think the house was broken to realize they were on the same page.
Once the last of the men were in the back, he made his way down the stairs, waiting for the arrival of both Theodora and Xene.
There was a bitterness in those who assumed that Emilios lacked any sort of military understanding. He may not have been someone who had a barony to manage, but he had been a leader of his men, all whom trusted him in the heat of battle. But none of those men were at his side now. No, all were with his brother, taking commands from the new king, while he sat back and protected the home front.
Maybe that was the real root of his frustration.
Or maybe it was that Emilios was not even given a chance to convene the senior heads of house before Fotios of Leventi had sent off a letter on his behalf to host such a gathering. There was much to do, and he had thought he was managing it quite well. The day he was preparing a letter to the men who gathered in his solar now was the day he was given the letter. Like many of the letters he received from Fotios, it went into the fire the moment after it was read. The man liked to make it known that he still was ‘in charge’ of the youngest Mikaelidas boy.
Damn him.
He could not be mad at the man for arranging it all. The prince, in his more content moments, could almost consider the man his groom. Making sure all the pieces were in place, handling the dirty work while he focused on the finer details-- it made his dreams far more pleasant to think of the man as his servant rather than the other way around. One day, once this was all over, he vowed to punch the man, just to make himself feel better.
He never considered himself a peacock, but today he took the time to dress the part. The fine silks of his chiton and himation flowed over his shoulder, pinned to his chest with a lion broach, ruby eyes staring as if to beg those to challenge him. While he may not have been a man who picked his house’s colors, he did today, knowing that he wanted to make a statement to anyone who looked at him-- The Mikaelidas family was strong.
That was half the reason he was positioned at the top of the landing, watching silently as the men made their way out towards his gardens. Hidden in the shadows, no one noticed him. He was pleased that the men seemed to arrive before his cousin and sister-in-law. The united front that the trio could show walking into the meeting was one he was counting on. He hoped that it let the people who may think the house was broken to realize they were on the same page.
Once the last of the men were in the back, he made his way down the stairs, waiting for the arrival of both Theodora and Xene.
Xene did not always take being summoned well. In her experience as princess, it was not she who was summoned, but she who did the summoning. But she could not accost Lord Fotios for his thought of her. The letter that had arrived to her chambers was not written in the same hand nor with the same loving words that he often put to papyrus for her. This had been a letter much different from those she was used to obtaining from him, but she did not balk. His words rang true to form and she knew that the discussion of how to prepare the city for war was not one that she could miss.
So, while irritated, in a way, that she was being ordered to be somewhere by someone other than her own superiors, she still prepared herself to attend upon the Mikaelidas manor. Dressed in her finest crimson chiton, with a himation of a glittering golden fabric and pinned with two fibulae of lions heads that very much matched Lord Emilios', Xene made her way into the manor. She motioned for Heron to stay far back because she was safe her. Just as she was safe within the Leventi manor.
There was no danger here. The only risk was getting into a blow out fight with one of the lords, which, in her state, was highly possible. Then again, she was sure that she could control herself for a single afternoon. Though, Lord Fotios knew her from her youth and knew her to be a master of spinning words, of stabbing hard and deep while speaking nothing but honey and veiled kindness. It was a skill she had had to pick up as she grew older, and though recent months had seen her break that careful mask of near-indifference with people, she was intent to be on something akin to her best behavior today.
Trailing through the familiar halls of the manor, Xene made her way to the landing, spotting Emilios starting down the stairs under the cover of shade. Neither of them had been spotted, and Xene was quick to pick up her speed just slightly so that she could attend to her cousin, looping her arm properly through his as she met him on the stairs. At first, she said nothing, her golden curls catching the breeze and her blue gaze set ahead of them both. "Good morning, cousin," Xene said soothingly as they made it to the bottom of the stairs. It was here that she turned slightly toward him to look his appearance up and down.
Letting go of his arm, Xene reached up to fix his fibulae, finding it to be very slightly crooked before moving just the slightest bit of one of his curls away from his forehead. "There," she said softly, "Nothing out of place. Not ruffled," Xene continued, "Perfect to walk in amongst men far older than either of us." A smile settled on her lips and she glanced in the direction she had briefly saw the older men gathered from above. "The queen and I left at the same time, but I'm afraid a carriage moves slower than just a horse," Xene excused carefully, "She should arrive very shortly if we wait here."
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Xene did not always take being summoned well. In her experience as princess, it was not she who was summoned, but she who did the summoning. But she could not accost Lord Fotios for his thought of her. The letter that had arrived to her chambers was not written in the same hand nor with the same loving words that he often put to papyrus for her. This had been a letter much different from those she was used to obtaining from him, but she did not balk. His words rang true to form and she knew that the discussion of how to prepare the city for war was not one that she could miss.
So, while irritated, in a way, that she was being ordered to be somewhere by someone other than her own superiors, she still prepared herself to attend upon the Mikaelidas manor. Dressed in her finest crimson chiton, with a himation of a glittering golden fabric and pinned with two fibulae of lions heads that very much matched Lord Emilios', Xene made her way into the manor. She motioned for Heron to stay far back because she was safe her. Just as she was safe within the Leventi manor.
There was no danger here. The only risk was getting into a blow out fight with one of the lords, which, in her state, was highly possible. Then again, she was sure that she could control herself for a single afternoon. Though, Lord Fotios knew her from her youth and knew her to be a master of spinning words, of stabbing hard and deep while speaking nothing but honey and veiled kindness. It was a skill she had had to pick up as she grew older, and though recent months had seen her break that careful mask of near-indifference with people, she was intent to be on something akin to her best behavior today.
Trailing through the familiar halls of the manor, Xene made her way to the landing, spotting Emilios starting down the stairs under the cover of shade. Neither of them had been spotted, and Xene was quick to pick up her speed just slightly so that she could attend to her cousin, looping her arm properly through his as she met him on the stairs. At first, she said nothing, her golden curls catching the breeze and her blue gaze set ahead of them both. "Good morning, cousin," Xene said soothingly as they made it to the bottom of the stairs. It was here that she turned slightly toward him to look his appearance up and down.
Letting go of his arm, Xene reached up to fix his fibulae, finding it to be very slightly crooked before moving just the slightest bit of one of his curls away from his forehead. "There," she said softly, "Nothing out of place. Not ruffled," Xene continued, "Perfect to walk in amongst men far older than either of us." A smile settled on her lips and she glanced in the direction she had briefly saw the older men gathered from above. "The queen and I left at the same time, but I'm afraid a carriage moves slower than just a horse," Xene excused carefully, "She should arrive very shortly if we wait here."
Xene did not always take being summoned well. In her experience as princess, it was not she who was summoned, but she who did the summoning. But she could not accost Lord Fotios for his thought of her. The letter that had arrived to her chambers was not written in the same hand nor with the same loving words that he often put to papyrus for her. This had been a letter much different from those she was used to obtaining from him, but she did not balk. His words rang true to form and she knew that the discussion of how to prepare the city for war was not one that she could miss.
So, while irritated, in a way, that she was being ordered to be somewhere by someone other than her own superiors, she still prepared herself to attend upon the Mikaelidas manor. Dressed in her finest crimson chiton, with a himation of a glittering golden fabric and pinned with two fibulae of lions heads that very much matched Lord Emilios', Xene made her way into the manor. She motioned for Heron to stay far back because she was safe her. Just as she was safe within the Leventi manor.
There was no danger here. The only risk was getting into a blow out fight with one of the lords, which, in her state, was highly possible. Then again, she was sure that she could control herself for a single afternoon. Though, Lord Fotios knew her from her youth and knew her to be a master of spinning words, of stabbing hard and deep while speaking nothing but honey and veiled kindness. It was a skill she had had to pick up as she grew older, and though recent months had seen her break that careful mask of near-indifference with people, she was intent to be on something akin to her best behavior today.
Trailing through the familiar halls of the manor, Xene made her way to the landing, spotting Emilios starting down the stairs under the cover of shade. Neither of them had been spotted, and Xene was quick to pick up her speed just slightly so that she could attend to her cousin, looping her arm properly through his as she met him on the stairs. At first, she said nothing, her golden curls catching the breeze and her blue gaze set ahead of them both. "Good morning, cousin," Xene said soothingly as they made it to the bottom of the stairs. It was here that she turned slightly toward him to look his appearance up and down.
Letting go of his arm, Xene reached up to fix his fibulae, finding it to be very slightly crooked before moving just the slightest bit of one of his curls away from his forehead. "There," she said softly, "Nothing out of place. Not ruffled," Xene continued, "Perfect to walk in amongst men far older than either of us." A smile settled on her lips and she glanced in the direction she had briefly saw the older men gathered from above. "The queen and I left at the same time, but I'm afraid a carriage moves slower than just a horse," Xene excused carefully, "She should arrive very shortly if we wait here."
These sorts of meetings were a duty, rather than a pleasure for Lord Gavriil. He neither thought of them with extreme distaste nor with relish. They were as inevitable as sunrise and as welcome as the blandest bowl of mushy grain. Perhaps there was an argument to be made for their usefulness in a limited capacity but just like a lackluster breakfast, one didn’t like to linger in such meetings. They were best to be done and over with as quickly as might be. Though, with the amount of people and the food and wine on offer, Gavriil had serious doubts that would be the case. This was likely to stretch long into the afternoon.
Gavriil silently attended the conversation without being much of an active participant of it. So Fotios was concerned about Prince Emilios’s capabilities and whether or not the man would be receptive to the barons and lords, was it? There Gavriil shared the concern. Prince Emilios’s reputation thus far was not one that garnered much enthusiasm from the Dimitrou lord. Perhaps that was the price of youths, such as the ones cropping up now: their elders could well remember the misspent days in idleness and vanity. Thankfully for Gavriil, most of the old men who may have called him such a thing at one time were long dead and no one would accuse him of anything now. Perhaps Prince Emilios would mature quickly under the weight of his new position.
The group headed onto klines and Gavriil sat down, giving exactly no thought at all whom he sat next to. It didn’t matter. As Fotios opened the floor to consider defense of the capitol, Gavriil frowned while Nikolias spoke up in staunch support. Defense? That was a tad premature, surely? However, he did not voice that. He didn’t know where Fotios’s information was coming from and had no wish to start a debate by opening his mouth just to question something. There would be time later, if it came to that. However, Gavriil was not able to keep totally silent because Fotios addressed him directly.
“Lord Gavriil... Should Meganea be able to relinquish some of your fine trees for fortifications?”
“If it proves necessary, yes,” Gavriil said without preamble. He was no good at mincing his speech and didn’t pretend to try. When Fotios mentioned archers on the walls, Gavriil was already planning to be right in the thick of it, if, again, that turned out to be necessary. He twisted again, frowning at the door, thinking that Prince Emilios really should be here.
“Where is our host?” he finally asked aloud. “This can wait until he is here.”
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These sorts of meetings were a duty, rather than a pleasure for Lord Gavriil. He neither thought of them with extreme distaste nor with relish. They were as inevitable as sunrise and as welcome as the blandest bowl of mushy grain. Perhaps there was an argument to be made for their usefulness in a limited capacity but just like a lackluster breakfast, one didn’t like to linger in such meetings. They were best to be done and over with as quickly as might be. Though, with the amount of people and the food and wine on offer, Gavriil had serious doubts that would be the case. This was likely to stretch long into the afternoon.
Gavriil silently attended the conversation without being much of an active participant of it. So Fotios was concerned about Prince Emilios’s capabilities and whether or not the man would be receptive to the barons and lords, was it? There Gavriil shared the concern. Prince Emilios’s reputation thus far was not one that garnered much enthusiasm from the Dimitrou lord. Perhaps that was the price of youths, such as the ones cropping up now: their elders could well remember the misspent days in idleness and vanity. Thankfully for Gavriil, most of the old men who may have called him such a thing at one time were long dead and no one would accuse him of anything now. Perhaps Prince Emilios would mature quickly under the weight of his new position.
The group headed onto klines and Gavriil sat down, giving exactly no thought at all whom he sat next to. It didn’t matter. As Fotios opened the floor to consider defense of the capitol, Gavriil frowned while Nikolias spoke up in staunch support. Defense? That was a tad premature, surely? However, he did not voice that. He didn’t know where Fotios’s information was coming from and had no wish to start a debate by opening his mouth just to question something. There would be time later, if it came to that. However, Gavriil was not able to keep totally silent because Fotios addressed him directly.
“Lord Gavriil... Should Meganea be able to relinquish some of your fine trees for fortifications?”
“If it proves necessary, yes,” Gavriil said without preamble. He was no good at mincing his speech and didn’t pretend to try. When Fotios mentioned archers on the walls, Gavriil was already planning to be right in the thick of it, if, again, that turned out to be necessary. He twisted again, frowning at the door, thinking that Prince Emilios really should be here.
“Where is our host?” he finally asked aloud. “This can wait until he is here.”
These sorts of meetings were a duty, rather than a pleasure for Lord Gavriil. He neither thought of them with extreme distaste nor with relish. They were as inevitable as sunrise and as welcome as the blandest bowl of mushy grain. Perhaps there was an argument to be made for their usefulness in a limited capacity but just like a lackluster breakfast, one didn’t like to linger in such meetings. They were best to be done and over with as quickly as might be. Though, with the amount of people and the food and wine on offer, Gavriil had serious doubts that would be the case. This was likely to stretch long into the afternoon.
Gavriil silently attended the conversation without being much of an active participant of it. So Fotios was concerned about Prince Emilios’s capabilities and whether or not the man would be receptive to the barons and lords, was it? There Gavriil shared the concern. Prince Emilios’s reputation thus far was not one that garnered much enthusiasm from the Dimitrou lord. Perhaps that was the price of youths, such as the ones cropping up now: their elders could well remember the misspent days in idleness and vanity. Thankfully for Gavriil, most of the old men who may have called him such a thing at one time were long dead and no one would accuse him of anything now. Perhaps Prince Emilios would mature quickly under the weight of his new position.
The group headed onto klines and Gavriil sat down, giving exactly no thought at all whom he sat next to. It didn’t matter. As Fotios opened the floor to consider defense of the capitol, Gavriil frowned while Nikolias spoke up in staunch support. Defense? That was a tad premature, surely? However, he did not voice that. He didn’t know where Fotios’s information was coming from and had no wish to start a debate by opening his mouth just to question something. There would be time later, if it came to that. However, Gavriil was not able to keep totally silent because Fotios addressed him directly.
“Lord Gavriil... Should Meganea be able to relinquish some of your fine trees for fortifications?”
“If it proves necessary, yes,” Gavriil said without preamble. He was no good at mincing his speech and didn’t pretend to try. When Fotios mentioned archers on the walls, Gavriil was already planning to be right in the thick of it, if, again, that turned out to be necessary. He twisted again, frowning at the door, thinking that Prince Emilios really should be here.
“Where is our host?” he finally asked aloud. “This can wait until he is here.”
The day of the meeting arrived, and Theodora was nearly sick with anxiety. While she had dreamed for years of being a Queen, now that she actually was one… Nothing could have prepared the young woman for the burden of responsibility, the eyes of a whole kingdom focused on her every move. Even when she married Achilleas, she had expected none of this. It was the other Mikaelidas branch that was meant to rule, and yet here she was. Queen. Alone, with her King off to war.
How much was she expected to speak today? Was she invited to truly be part of these proceedings, or simply to have her presence? Of course, it wouldn’t make sense for such matters to be discussed without the Queen there, but what was she really meant to do? She knew her uncle and father would both be present; perhaps she could just follow their lead. Surely, they knew what they were about. She could pretend she wasn’t completely out of her element if she just listened and agreed with what they said. That would be enough, right?
Clad in a radiant gold chiton of shimmering silk, Theodora stood patiently as her maid carefully pinned the dress with golden fibulae and draped a crimson himation over the expensive garment. Her hair was meticulously curled and pinned, the top half coifed on her head with a few loose curls artfully arranged about her shoulders. The Queen practically glittered with the amount of jewels that decorated her throat, ears, and fingers, gold and rubies catching and reflecting the morning light. A golden crown nestled among her curls, and as Althaia put the finishing touches on the cosmetics painting her face, Theodora took a deep breath and steadied herself.
She was the Queen of Taengea. Whether she had asked for this or not, she had a responsibility to the kingdom. There were far worse things than sitting in a meeting with so many of the heads of house.
Her arrival to the Archontiko Mikaelidas was a little past prompt, one of the carriage’s wheels having gotten stuck in a rut in the path. Gods, what a nightmare; a Queen running late to such an important gathering. Would they look at her askance? Would they whisper of her irresponsibility and lack of care?
She was flushed with nerves when the footman finally handed her from the carriage, lifting her skirts as she rushed inside. When she saw Emilios and Xene standing there waiting, her breath let out in a whoosh. At least she wasn’t the only one that was late.
Stepping up to her cousin and brother-in-law, she offered them a smile that she hoped portrayed more confidence than she actually felt. Emilios, at least, would likely be able to see the lie for what it was, but she doubted he would say anything. “Princess Xene,” she greeted the woman with polite incline of her head before doing the same to Emilios. “Prince Emilios. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long. There was… trouble… on the way here.” She hastened to add, “Nothing terribly dangerous. Let’s just say we might want to think of relaying some of the stones in the streets.”
As Xene had already taken the Prince’s arm, Theodora stood slightly off to the side with her hands folded in front of her. Truthfully, it was better if she kept her hands to herself, as it was. His very presence was a distraction she fought to cope with, and the fact that he looked so handsome this morning with his beautifully dyed chiton and perfectly groomed hair…
The Queen cleared her throat and smiled again. “So long as we aren’t expecting anyone else, let’s not keep our lords waiting any longer, yes?”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The day of the meeting arrived, and Theodora was nearly sick with anxiety. While she had dreamed for years of being a Queen, now that she actually was one… Nothing could have prepared the young woman for the burden of responsibility, the eyes of a whole kingdom focused on her every move. Even when she married Achilleas, she had expected none of this. It was the other Mikaelidas branch that was meant to rule, and yet here she was. Queen. Alone, with her King off to war.
How much was she expected to speak today? Was she invited to truly be part of these proceedings, or simply to have her presence? Of course, it wouldn’t make sense for such matters to be discussed without the Queen there, but what was she really meant to do? She knew her uncle and father would both be present; perhaps she could just follow their lead. Surely, they knew what they were about. She could pretend she wasn’t completely out of her element if she just listened and agreed with what they said. That would be enough, right?
Clad in a radiant gold chiton of shimmering silk, Theodora stood patiently as her maid carefully pinned the dress with golden fibulae and draped a crimson himation over the expensive garment. Her hair was meticulously curled and pinned, the top half coifed on her head with a few loose curls artfully arranged about her shoulders. The Queen practically glittered with the amount of jewels that decorated her throat, ears, and fingers, gold and rubies catching and reflecting the morning light. A golden crown nestled among her curls, and as Althaia put the finishing touches on the cosmetics painting her face, Theodora took a deep breath and steadied herself.
She was the Queen of Taengea. Whether she had asked for this or not, she had a responsibility to the kingdom. There were far worse things than sitting in a meeting with so many of the heads of house.
Her arrival to the Archontiko Mikaelidas was a little past prompt, one of the carriage’s wheels having gotten stuck in a rut in the path. Gods, what a nightmare; a Queen running late to such an important gathering. Would they look at her askance? Would they whisper of her irresponsibility and lack of care?
She was flushed with nerves when the footman finally handed her from the carriage, lifting her skirts as she rushed inside. When she saw Emilios and Xene standing there waiting, her breath let out in a whoosh. At least she wasn’t the only one that was late.
Stepping up to her cousin and brother-in-law, she offered them a smile that she hoped portrayed more confidence than she actually felt. Emilios, at least, would likely be able to see the lie for what it was, but she doubted he would say anything. “Princess Xene,” she greeted the woman with polite incline of her head before doing the same to Emilios. “Prince Emilios. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long. There was… trouble… on the way here.” She hastened to add, “Nothing terribly dangerous. Let’s just say we might want to think of relaying some of the stones in the streets.”
As Xene had already taken the Prince’s arm, Theodora stood slightly off to the side with her hands folded in front of her. Truthfully, it was better if she kept her hands to herself, as it was. His very presence was a distraction she fought to cope with, and the fact that he looked so handsome this morning with his beautifully dyed chiton and perfectly groomed hair…
The Queen cleared her throat and smiled again. “So long as we aren’t expecting anyone else, let’s not keep our lords waiting any longer, yes?”
The day of the meeting arrived, and Theodora was nearly sick with anxiety. While she had dreamed for years of being a Queen, now that she actually was one… Nothing could have prepared the young woman for the burden of responsibility, the eyes of a whole kingdom focused on her every move. Even when she married Achilleas, she had expected none of this. It was the other Mikaelidas branch that was meant to rule, and yet here she was. Queen. Alone, with her King off to war.
How much was she expected to speak today? Was she invited to truly be part of these proceedings, or simply to have her presence? Of course, it wouldn’t make sense for such matters to be discussed without the Queen there, but what was she really meant to do? She knew her uncle and father would both be present; perhaps she could just follow their lead. Surely, they knew what they were about. She could pretend she wasn’t completely out of her element if she just listened and agreed with what they said. That would be enough, right?
Clad in a radiant gold chiton of shimmering silk, Theodora stood patiently as her maid carefully pinned the dress with golden fibulae and draped a crimson himation over the expensive garment. Her hair was meticulously curled and pinned, the top half coifed on her head with a few loose curls artfully arranged about her shoulders. The Queen practically glittered with the amount of jewels that decorated her throat, ears, and fingers, gold and rubies catching and reflecting the morning light. A golden crown nestled among her curls, and as Althaia put the finishing touches on the cosmetics painting her face, Theodora took a deep breath and steadied herself.
She was the Queen of Taengea. Whether she had asked for this or not, she had a responsibility to the kingdom. There were far worse things than sitting in a meeting with so many of the heads of house.
Her arrival to the Archontiko Mikaelidas was a little past prompt, one of the carriage’s wheels having gotten stuck in a rut in the path. Gods, what a nightmare; a Queen running late to such an important gathering. Would they look at her askance? Would they whisper of her irresponsibility and lack of care?
She was flushed with nerves when the footman finally handed her from the carriage, lifting her skirts as she rushed inside. When she saw Emilios and Xene standing there waiting, her breath let out in a whoosh. At least she wasn’t the only one that was late.
Stepping up to her cousin and brother-in-law, she offered them a smile that she hoped portrayed more confidence than she actually felt. Emilios, at least, would likely be able to see the lie for what it was, but she doubted he would say anything. “Princess Xene,” she greeted the woman with polite incline of her head before doing the same to Emilios. “Prince Emilios. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long. There was… trouble… on the way here.” She hastened to add, “Nothing terribly dangerous. Let’s just say we might want to think of relaying some of the stones in the streets.”
As Xene had already taken the Prince’s arm, Theodora stood slightly off to the side with her hands folded in front of her. Truthfully, it was better if she kept her hands to herself, as it was. His very presence was a distraction she fought to cope with, and the fact that he looked so handsome this morning with his beautifully dyed chiton and perfectly groomed hair…
The Queen cleared her throat and smiled again. “So long as we aren’t expecting anyone else, let’s not keep our lords waiting any longer, yes?”