Although there hadn’t been a true lady of the Dimitrou household since her mother, Dorothea felt in many ways that she had assumed the title in the years since Sibyl’s death. She had taken over many of the household tasks that her mother would have seen to, including playing hostess (though not always willingly) to the guests that they’d had over time. She had also taken over the role of mother to her younger sister, learning many things faster than she ever should have. It was a role that Dorothea had never hoped to have for many reasons. She would have traded anything for more time with her mother. Eight years was hardly enough.

It was perhaps because of this stunted childhood that Dorothea also wished not to play the role of wife and mother to the nobility. It was difficult to say if ambition outweighed duty or if duty brought about ambition. In either case, she most certainly wasn’t prepared for today. Well, the concept of today. The festivities had been planned with care, though rather quickly, but the Dimitrou was still wrapping her head around the fact that her father was getting married. The two of them had been in their own private squabble and she was feeling guilty that it had caused her to miss this relationship. While she could see now that her father was happy, she still hadn’t thought that it might be because of love.

Dorothea harbored no bad feelings towards Evangelina, in fact she rather liked the other woman though the Leventi was younger that herself. It seemed that both Gavriil and Evie were happy together and Dorothea wasn’t about to begrudge them that. One thing that she hadn’t been expecting was the mix of feelings that came with giving up her unofficial role as the lady of the household. There was relief, yes, and that was what she expected, but there was also sadness. Although she didn’t want to run the Dimitrou clan, she had guided them in many ways over the past fifteen years, more so as she was older. She felt as though she had some purpose among their family and even if it didn’t feel like the right purpose for her, it was one that would keep her relevant among the Dimitrou. It was one that she hoped would keep her from being forced to marry and live somewhere else. Now that her father had less of a need for her…well, Dorothea wasn’t prepared to think about that.

In the past few days, she had been helping Evie oversee to the events that would quickly be coming together. Dorothea had hunted for much of the food that their guests would be dining on, though she couldn’t take credit for the rest of the preparation as she normally might. There simply hadn’t been the time to hunt and cook everything. Rest assured, their guests would be dining on the finest of venison, bird, boar, and fish that the Dimitrou lands had to offer. They would not go hungry.

Her outfits for the day were laid out on her bed, a pale green chiton for arrival of guests and a dark blue chiton that had been purchased for this occasion as her evening wear. Dorothea checked in on Alexa, pleased to hear only minimal protesting, before heading to her room to dress and have her hair done. Normally, she would take care of such things herself, but even Dorothea would see reason to have someone tame her wild brown hair for this event. Her long locks were done in an elaborate braids that somehow disappeared into a beautiful bun at the nape of her neck. Even Dorothea was impressed upon seeing the result, though she wondered how long it would last.

Finally, dressed, Dorothea made her way to the front of their home to prepare to greet incoming guests. She knew better than to assume that her father would beat her there, but would not let anyone be greeted by someone other than a Dimitrou. As Iason was not there to help, it seemed the duty fell to her.

Their gardens gleamed, groomed and decorated for the day. The buffet tables were fully stocked with delicious foods for all palates, mostly cold dishes to greet their guests as attendees would be arriving at different times. The larger, more grand meal would come after the ceremony; warm food to fuel them through the night.

She wasn’t waiting long before the first guests arrived, riding up on horses and in carriages. Servants were quick to whisk away belongings from the travelers and Dorothea headed down the stairs to greet her guests. She put on her best smile, inwardly bracing. This was going to be a long day.

“Welcome to our home. Refreshments are waiting in the gardens or if you would like to retire to your rooms, a servant will take you. We’re glad to have you here.”

The first wedding celebration that Evangelina had ever attended had been nothing like this one. It’d been that of one of the Leventi vassal houses, some baron or other that her parents had agreed to take her too since they were attending it themselves out of respect for the family. She couldn’t have been more than four or maybe five years old, she wasn’t really sure because time passed differently when you were that age. It moved slowly, like a trickle of a river sliding down the riverbed at it’s own pace. There wasn’t anything you could do to hurry it up, despite how much you deeply, deeply hoped you could, there simply was no hurrying the river.

The wedding hadn’t been a grand affair, her wedding planned for today wasn’t the grand affair that her cousin Theodora’s had been either, but that had been rather by her own design. It was simply what was expected and nothing more. Sitting there in the alcove of one of the larger windows in her room, her linen nightgown felt almost sheer without the heavy warmth of the bed blankets wrapped around her. Sleep had been futile. She’d thought at first that perhaps it was this place or the strange bed or maybe just the stress and tension of the wedding ceremony sneaking up onto her. She realized in the wee hours of this morning that it wasn’t. It wasn’t like she was carrying a heavy weight around her neck but quite the opposite. The pint-sized Leventi felt freer, lighter even. This place was going to be her home.

She’d crawled out of her bed, not bothering with a wrapper or one of the blankets and had folded herself in the nook and cranny of the window even before the pitch blackness of the night had faded to some shade of smutty shade of damp ash. Her forehead leaned against the cool glass as her mind considered what this laid ahead for her on this fateful day. She’d already contemplated what had happened to the last wedding she’d been too and had said a silent prayer in her head to Hera and Hades and several other Gods that she hoped might try and let her wedding pass without anyone dying. But as easily as her mind had drifted to the last wedding, she found herself reminiscing on the first wedding she’d attended.

Her hair an undecided brown had been like it was right now, braided into a single thick braid and had fallen over her shoulder. She’d been dressed in a bright goldenrod chiton and there had been daisies. It was funny how memories picked and chose things to stand out brightly in a memory as you looked back over it years later. She couldn’t remember the name of the family, or if any of her cousin’s had been there, or even the color of her mother’s chiton, but she could remember the daisies. The small white flowers with the fuzzy yellow centers had seemed cheerful, like a tiny, tangible bit of sunshine. She remembered collecting them into her own bouquet and then sitting cross legged, much to the dismay of her exasperated mother who had taken her to task several times that day for her unbecoming behavior.

Evangelina almost smiled in remembrance to that. By the time she picked the daisies she thought her mother was probably just grateful that she was occupied in some manner that kept her quiet and away from the adults. Her father had come out as soon as the business parts of the ceremonies had concluded and sat down on the grass with her. He’d told her that the couples had gone to the temples and would return here as man and wife and then proceeded to show her how to take the stems of the daisies and braid them into her very own crown. It was one of those rare moments her father let his guard down, but she relished those moments. Life as a Leventi even then was a tedious affair of rules and manners and lists of things that she couldn’t do. She’d later find out the simple braid of the daisy crown was the same braid he used in weaving the strips of leather into his reins. But in that moment, sitting on the ground with her father she was certain he wielded some sort of magic that enabled him to take a handful of daisies and create a crown for her.

A sound caught her attention. A door opened, quiet footsteps, and then it eased closed. She listened as the near silent footfalls passed the door to her room and then disappeared deeper into the deepest parts of the house, parts she couldn’t hear such faint footsteps in anymore. A small sigh escaped and she stared out the window. It might have been her imagination but it looked like the sky had lightened just a tiny bit. In the dark bedroom with not even a candle lit, she could make out the faint shapes and shadows that she’d gotten to know so well over the past few days that she’d been there in Meganea taking care of final details.

Achilleas had asked her on a ride before he’d left if she thought she was going to like Meganea. At the time, she’d been a little uncertain. Her memories of the place didn’t do it justice. She was glad that she and several members of her wedding party had decided to come up earlier and aid Dorothea in preparations. Also, after all of the chaos in Vasiliadon, getting away from the city was something fresher. The events leading up to the wedding both regarding her own personal life and the ongoing war with Egypt had a way of zapping the patience and general good nature out of her. Arriving in Meganea a few days earlier, while exhausting, it was also both literally and figuratively a breath of fresh air. The craggy cliff and almost savage countryside was such a far cry from the gentle sweeping pastureland of Acharist. She could understand why the Dimitrou family were the way they were. It was a beautiful but hard part of Taengea, it was only natural that the people who were as connected to the land as this family, be just as parallel to it.

Gavriil’s home was by far the nicest and best suited for their accommodations, so while it might have been a bit unorthodox the pint-sized Leventi had commandeered a small section of the house for herself and her party. She’d juggled the reins and had run roughshod over her family making sure they didn’t cause too much havoc upon her intended but they were Leventis and that did mean there were certain complications. She’d gotten rather good at tuning those things and trying to focus on simply putting one foot in front of the other.

There had been quite a lot of badgering of her from various family members. The gossip was of course swirling about her. They were a rather unusual couple, she supposed that was part of everyone’s interest in them… and partly because Agape and Melina who were both older than her weren’t married first. It probably didn’t help that she was being rather tight lipped about everything, only saying what needed to be said to appease those who needed appeasing.

Just then in the corner of the window, she saw the figure trudging through the shadows. Her eyes were glued to the dark form not because of her curiosity for the identity, she knew who it was even from this distance in the dark, there was but one man who would be out trudging through the forest at this time in the morning. Her hand came up to the window and gently touched it. If she thought for even half of a second that she could quickly dress and hurry down to him, she’d have snuck away with him into the forest. There wasn’t even half of a chance though that she could pull that off, at least not pull it off without waking the entire household and all of the guests there. So, instead she watched out the window until his form bled into the darkness and she could no longer discern him from the other shadows of the night.

Her hand fell from the window with a little sigh. Too bad there wasn’t a way she could skip through the morning and the ceremonies and the people and just go straight being married. People were hard. They weren’t like horses. She wrapped her arms around her and noticed the first streak of grey in the clouds. There were more sounds from the house. Perhaps servants waking and moving about their morning chores and the final things to do before the feast. One her ladies would come in shortly to start the preparations and then the day would quickly shift from this slow sort of quietness to something more akin to a snowball rolling down a hill.

As if her very thoughts had conjured up the soft knock on the door, her head turned from the window to see none other than her mother stick her head in through the door. It would have been a lie to say that her mother was completely supportive of this marriage but she was enduring. Ava’s eyes found her daughter’s darker eyes and her worried mouth softened as she stepped into the room closing the door behind her. Evangelina dropped her legs from the window sill to allow her mother to sit down next to her.

‘You know, I remember myself not being a lot younger than you and seeing Lord Gavriil and thinking him one of the most magnificent men I’d ever seen,’ Ava murmured in consideration as she eased into the seat next to her daughter. Evangelina’s head turned a little and she eyed her mother. It seemed almost a ghastly thought to think she and her mother had similar taste in men, at the same time, Evangelina found herself trying to imagine a young dark golden haired young man slinking through the forests. Her thoughts could have stayed there for a little longer except her mother continued talking, ‘I never thought he’d marry again after Lady Sybil’s death.’ The words were a bit like cold water being dumped upon her. She blinked and looked away, did her mother have any idea how many times she’d heard that since the news of Gavriil’s engagement to her had been announced.

Ava’s small, delicate hand touched her shoulder, ‘I think after the shock of it wore off though that I can’t say that I’m surprised by this arrangement.’ The power of a simple touch and her mother’s almost enchantress like voice could have upon her. She lifted her gaze to meet her mother’s blue eyes and sighed, “I feel like that might be the theme of this wedding.” The comparing her to the former Lady Sybil. Gavriil’s former wife had been a simple farmer’s daughter, local to the area if the gossip Evangelina had heard was to be believed. And despite her rather simple beginnings, she’d effortlessly found her place not just among the family and Gavriil’s heart but as a Lady of status. It was a rather daunting thought to have to live up to. For, despite being a Leventi and having the pedigree to boast, Evangelina was by all means a puzzling tangle of cultured spontaneity and restlessness.

Her mother smiled that smile that had always put her at ease as a child, ‘Stop fretting and give yourself time to adapt.’ Evangelina blinked a bit surprised, although she shouldn’t have been. Ava always knew what was running through her mind… sometimes even more she knew what it was. Her mother stood up and pulled her daughter into her arms and hugged her, resting her chin on Evie’s head. ‘Even as a child you were impetuous. You did things without thinking them through…’ Ava sighed softly as if her mind had drifted to a young Evangelina, ‘You never waited around to see if things would change in a way that might please you but just did things. You never give yourself time to just adapt… try and just relax and let yourself adapt to these changes instead of fighting against them.’ She pulled back and looked down at her daughter.

Evangelina’s eyebrows scrunched up, causing her face to appear momentarily pinched with the way her mother had handed her that hard to swallow truth about herself. She did, constantly jump into things… into ideas and thoughts and feelings with the plan that she’d jump into the middle of it and sort it out after she was in the middle of it. It was the way she tackled every problem or obstacle that dared cross her path. Adapting wasn’t something she really did… she bent things to accommodate her.

The light chuckle from her mother caused her look at her again, ‘Evangelina, don’t bother trying to argue that you don’t do it. You have always tried to row your boat against the current. And it has always tried to wash you back down the stream.’ Ava’s hand captured her daughter’s jutted out chin, ‘You remind me so much of your grandmother.’ The words caught Evangelina by surprise, while it was frequently talked about that they were Leventis’, it wasn’t brought into light that her grandmother had been a Stavros who’d married a Leventi. It was where the bright, sunset red auburn hair of her mother came from… and probably the warm hues in her own hair. ‘It’s that same Stavros stubbornness… doesn’t matter what the facts are, they don’t mean a thing to you.’ Her mother smiled wistfully and chucked her daughter lightly on the chin, neither admitting that it was a trait she possessed as well before she continued, ‘I hope Lord Gavriil knows what sort of wife he’s getting.’

Lord Gavriil’s wife. That thought generated a deep, almost achingly warm and silly smile on her lips again. That’s what she was going to be after today.

“Oh, Momma…,” Her heart seized a little in her chest. How could there be such a… a… happiness within her about marrying and yet at the same time such a sadness at losing something too? There was that reassuring and all knowing smile again on her mother’s lips telling Evangelina that she didn’t have to say anything else because Ava knew what she was feeling.

A hallowed understanding seemed to pass between mother and daughter on their wedding day. It was the moment that she left one life and began another; a pivotal turning point in her life, if you would. They shared a look and then Ava let her daughter go and took a step backward away, ‘I should probably see your father and make sure Tino has everything he needs before your uncle arrives.’ There wasn’t any guess as to which uncle her mother was speaking of, the warmth she felt for Fotios positively dripped from her tone in the privacy there with her daughter. Evangelina watched her mother walk to the door, her hand pausing on the handle before she opened it and disappeared. She turned to look at Evangelina once more, ‘I’ll see to it also that your maids are sent up and that your cousins are informed to come find you once they've sorted themselves out. It’s time to start getting things ready, my dear.’

And with that, her mother opened the door, closed it and disappeared leaving Evangelina suddenly feeling as if a bit of warmth had left her. She’d been alone before her mother came in and had felt at peace but now, after her mother’s visit, she found herself suddenly feeling as if she were robbed of some sort of comfort. It was as if she’d been sent to bed and her blanket was now taken from her.

Wrapping her arms around her waist and hugging herself, she stepped back over to the window and stared out. The sky had lightened more, the shadows that had been so faint earlier were now clearer as the world took on an almost black and white look to it. Colors weren’t really discernible yet, there were dark things and then there were lighter colored things but the lines of exact colors were still smudged and blurry and appearing more ashen then vivid.

There was a faint knock on the door and a buxom strawberry blonde maid, that Evangelina thought she remembered being told that her name was Helena, stuck her head inside and smiled, ‘Mornin’ ma’am, yer mother sent me up. We’ll be getting you a bath drawn up so you can relax while we get other things sorted for ye.’ There was a quaint, mountainy feel to the woman and wondered if the woman would be taking over the duties as head maid for her. Helena walked about in the room, getting things organized and seeing that the morning dress laid out and that the evening dress… was also in perfect condition still. While she worked, she hummed some country song with an airy melody. It put Evangelina at ease almost instantly, she was grateful for the woman’s easy way.

While Helena looked after the more important details, several other maids seemed to bustle in and dump their heated water into the brass tub before disappearing back out the door while the next maid stepped into the room with her bucket. The rotation was almost meditative. After a few moments, her mind shifted from the tub of water to wondering what Gavriil was possibly doing out in the woods this early in the morning… on the day of his wedding? Her teeth caught her bottom lip and she nibbled at it for a few minutes before Helena’s voice beckoned her back to reality, ‘Missus’, your bath is ready.’

She turned and ambled over to the brass tub near the hearth in her room and pulled the string ties of her night gown loose before slipping it slowly up and over her head before dropping it onto the floor and stepping into the warm water. There were petals of lavender and roses floating among the water infusing water with their essence and sending a wave of relaxation through Evangelina as she sank down into the water. Her fingers swirled through the water and lifted up letting the slow drip of the water roll off her fingers and fall back to the water in the tub. What was it about warm water and lavender that seemed to make everything okay? She leaned back into the tub and closed her eyes.

Her mother was right. She needed to not let her worries cloud her judgement. She needed to give herself time to adapt and settle into this new chapter of her life without trying to bend it into whatever she was expecting it to be. She loved Gavriil and his family had been quite endearing to her despite the obvious awkwardness of the way she’d sort of just dropped herself into it without hardly a ‘hello’ or ‘how do you do’.

Her door closed and her eyes opened to notice that Helena had disappeared from the room having made ready the outfits and seen to the preparation of the bath. She supposed there would be some sort of light food for her to eat while she was prepared. It felt a bit like some sort of wild tribal ritual she’d read out in a tomb, where the faces were painted with marks to please the gods before they left for war. That thought of war drew her back to the somber reality of how many were missing right now and how many more would be lost before Egypt was defeated. Her mind wavered in thought of how many who weren’t here for her wedding… weren’t here. There was a small ache in her about that, she’d found a kindred spirit and friend in Achilleas, even if he’d say they weren’t anything alike. They were. He just hadn’t opened his eyes up enough to see they were both horrible little awkward wallflowers deep down.

She shoved that thought aside, there wasn’t anything that could be done about his absence from her wedding. He’d given her his blessing before he’d left. That would have to suffice. Perhaps when he returned, she could convince him and Theo to take a small vacation and relax in Meganea for a few weeks. It might be nice. There was something comforting about the nature and rawness of the land. It wasn’t the regular, everyday sort of nature you saw when you were near Vasiliadon or even Acharist but rather something more wicked and sinister… there was something wild about it that she wanted to share with her friend and cousin.

Evangelina didn’t know how long she’d soaked in the bathtub, long enough that the water had gone cool and her skin had shriveled up like some sort of dried grape. She’d climbed out of the tub and picked up the emerald green silk robe and slipped it on to her small frame and tightened the cord into a simple knot. Her fingers fiddled with the small string that’d held the braid together at the bottom of her wet hair and untied it only to unbraid it and run her fingers through the damp chestnut tangles.

Helena gave another knock and appeared inside, finding Evangelina out of the tub before she burst into the room with a tray of some goat’s milk and a pomegranate already cut and ready to be eaten. Setting the tray down on a small table, she gushed about how beautiful everything was looking downstairs and how all of Lord Dimitrou’s staff were all in a tizzy about today’s big event. Gavriil wasn’t exactly known as the most gregarious Lord around. Parties and festivities weren’t something he indulged in unless there wasn’t any other option. Unfortunately for him, a marriage to a Leventi was a rather unavoidable sort of event.

The full figured maid clicked and clucked like a mother hen and herded as well as any shepherd’s sheep dog could be expected too. Evangelina didn’t have much choice but to sit down in front of a bureau, a looking glass in front of her, the tray of food to her left and just within reach. Helena took over the fussing about on Evangelina’s hair as she spoke of the gossip that was being said downstairs and rubbed an intoxicating scented oil together in her palms and then began to work untangling and preparing Evangelina’s hair to be molded into something befitting of a bride.

Through the reflection in the mirror, Evangelina could see that the sun had risen enough that shades or tangerine and peachy pink were now visible in the sky. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. One for the books. That was a blessing indeed, she could use one after the weeks that had led up to this wedding. All the things that had shifted between herself and her cousins and the decisions that’d had to have been made. More clothes to have been bought, accessories. She’d barely had a free moment to sneak away for a ride. She’d remembered Theodora’s wedding being this much of a pain, but her own wedding she hadn’t realized would require almost as much forethought. The added difficulty of it being in Meganea rather than the central location that Theodora’s wedding had been only seemed to escalate the level of snags that could be snagged.

Within the house there were more sounds of it coming awake, Gavriil’s home had a way about. She’d noticed it the first instant she’d seen it. It was like it was it’s own sort of being, breathing and alive. It’d been asleep while the world was dark and now that the sun was rising, it had awakened and there was an energy that pulsed through it now much like a heartbeat in a person.

Helena had moved onto styling her hair. Why was it therapeutic to feel the gentle fingers running through your hair, twisting and separating it? Finishing off the last of the glass of goat’s milk, sighed and closed her eyes. The maid had started humming again and Evangelina felt herself being lulled into the trance as her hair was being curled as her curtain of hair was pinned back out of the way but left free. It lended to a more sophisticated look than her usual uncomplicated ponytail. She wanted everything to be elegant in its simplicity. Not that she was the least bit sophisticated really, but it would be a nice change… it’d give the guests something different to see of her than the Evangelina they all knew and… well… mostly loved.

As the pearl pins were placed in a little design on top of her hair, she worked on applying her own kohl lightly to her eyes and the faint colored balm to her lips. The results in the looking glass were startling. She’d never really considered herself beautiful but looking at herself there right then, even without her dress on, she was surprised what a tiny bit of effort had done for her. She was striking, her face had softened from the harsh angles of youth, the hollows had filled in a little lessening the effect of her razor sharp cheekbones. While her eyes were still a little too large for her face, they were thick of lashes and a deep warm honey color full glittering gold on the inside. When had they stopped being just a plain ordinary earthy brown and had developed such colors? She pinched her cheeks a little, heightening their color as well. In the mirrored glass, she saw Helena looking approvingly at her, ‘I think we are ready for your morning dress, my lady.’

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, unconsciously nibbling off half the tint that had just been placed upon them as she swiveled to stare at her morning chiton that lay across her bed. It was one of the new dresses she’d bought before coming to Meganea, one that she’d not even dared to try on beforehand. It was a pale, lustrous silvery lavender silk that seemed to shimmer if you looked at it in certain sun lit light. She stood up slowly and walked over to the bed, reaching down her fingertips skimmed the fabric thankful that her cousins were still preparing themselves and she had the quiet of her room with just Helena in there to help.

Pale colors weren’t a favorite of hers, oftentimes they had a terrible way of washing the golden hues of sun kissed skin and warm hued hair making her appear dumpy and paler. It wasn’t flattering, except with certain tones. The silvery lavender held a depth to it, an almost otherworldly shade. It’d reminded her of a dress a nymph might wear on a moonlit night. Oh, she’d like to be a nymph on a moonlit night… and if wearing this dress, even in the morning allowed her to feel that same sort of liberation and joy that she suspected was a second nature to nymphs then so be it.

Helena helped her put it on, a darker, Leventi purple silk braided cord had been chosen for the girdle that wound around her waist, trimming the airy fabric to her small athletic frame. Evangelina indulged herself in a small private twirl, standing on her tiptoes and letting her arms swing out a little. The dress was just as perfect on her as it’d been on the bed. She would, definitely maybe, have to swallow her pride and tell her cousins that they were right about the choice of the dress. It was everything she’d wanted and more.

Her sandals laced up partially up her calves and were for the most part fairly simple but comfortable. She’d be spending a good amount of time upon her feet today, and it was only logical that she be comfortable rather than wearing a rather pinched expression on her face for most of the day. This was perhaps one of the most important days in her life… she did not want to look like she was in pain.

Lastly came the jewelry, her mother had loaned her a moonstone necklace that was a perfect addition to the dress. It clung to her neck and she tried not to think about how it made her a tiny bit claustrophobic, not to mention what would happen if, Gods forbid, it broke and she lost it. It became something for her to fidget about with, every spare moment that she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, they seemed to have their own agenda and find their way up to gentle touch the necklace reassuring her subconscious that it was in fact still there and that it wasn’t choking her.

One last look out her window she could see down into the decorated gardens, blown glass terrariums with short stubby candles inside them hung with vivid jewel tone ribbons from the libs of the trees. The candles weren’t lit yet, that was of course for later after the ceremony but they were already hanging there beautiful and ready to be lit. There were various tables set up in the garden, rich Dimitrou forest green table runners swayed gently with the light morning breeze. Her gaze landed on two people. Gavriil and Dorothea as they shared an intimate moment between father and daughter. This was what she wanted. Those precious intimate moments.

She wanted a father for her children who would sit on the ground and braid a daisy crown for their daughters when there were more important things to be done. She wanted a boy traipsing through the forest with golden hair and stormy blue eyes with his bow. She wanted the intimacy that this clan had, not the closeness that was born out of duty for family but something more substantial. Maybe this wasn’t the most flawless match upon paper and maybe every single one of their guests was completely at a loss as to why this marriage was happening. Maybe they thought she was soft, she didn’t have the driving ambition that her cousins had but they were missing one very large fact.

Evangelina had set a goal, she had known from the first moment what she’d wanted… of course maybe she didn’t know how she was going to get it but it didn’t detract from the fact that she’d known she wanted the end result. She saw it… she wanted it… so she found a way to get it. Taking a deep breath, she smiled slowly to herself. And get it she had. It was the first step to her very thought out life plan.

Stepping away from the window, she thanked Helena and moved to the door through the house, luckily most of the guests were being directed to the garden so navigating herself to the garden as well wasn’t bogged down with meeting unfortunate guests who wanted to have their usual small talk. Joining Gavriil and Dorothea in the garden, she sided up next to her future husband and bumped his hip lightly with her own. “See? I told you I would make it to the garden on time,” Glancing around him she gave Dorothea a small wink. "Good morning, Dorothea."

Xanthippe sat in sullen silence the entire trip to Meganea, gazing out of the carriage window with cold blue eyes. Whether Sara attempted to speak with her or not, the blonde would give very few responses, perhaps a grunt here or a nod there, but nothing that encouraged further conversation. It irked her that she must ride in this carriage with her, rather than tucked away at Melina’s side like she ought to be. Her company was what Xanthippe wanted, not Sara’s. And yet she and Lord Fotios were in the carriage ahead of them, riding in style like the royalty they were.

Should have pushed little Sara out of the carriage on the way.

I thought about it.

Thinking should have been action instead.

There would have been consequences.

Not if it was framed as an accident.

Yes, I can ‘accidentally’ push a grown woman out of the closed door of a moving carriage and call it a mistake. Sometimes I think you all serve only to vex me.

The handmaid cared little for weddings, and this one was no exception. While Xanthippe was undyingly loyal to the Leventi family, it was her lord’s line that she was concerned with, not that of Konstanos. While she supposed Evangelina was pleasant enough, she didn’t care about her. So she was marrying some grizzled up old man. Who cared? Certainly not her. Of course, she would smile and bow and attend her lady as she ought, but inside she would be contemplating all of the ways they could slip out of this obligation early and be done with the whole affair.

However, that wouldn’t be possible, not this time. With the wedding so far from Vasiliadon, they would not be returning home until the next day. Unfortunately, they were stuck here, and they were going to have to suffer this ordeal for its entirety. Sighing, she pushed a hand through her hair before leaning against the heel of her palm. The carriage was rolling to a stop, letting her know of their arrival, and she wasn’t sure if she ought to be pleased they were finally here or resigned that this celebration was only just beginning.

Pointedly ignoring her younger companion as she stepped from the vehicle, Xanthippe looked around for Lady Melina and Lord Fotios, spotting her mistress only a few yards away. Gathering up the skirt of her ivory chiton so the hem wouldn’t drag the ground and blowing an errant golden curl from her face, she hurried to Melina’s side and offered a small smile of greeting. Staying a few paces back from the woman as was proper, she nodded respectfully to the bride and groom before dropping into a curtsy.

“Congratulations, Lady Evangelina and Lord Gavriil,” was her polite benediction before retreating back into more comfortable silence, flanking Melina like the guard dog she practically was. Lightly brushing her elbow to reassure the woman of her presence, knowing of her anxieties in events like this, she hoped to convey strength through the simple brush of her touch. At least she wouldn’t have to do this alone.

Dorothea was pleasantly surprised to see her father join her only a few minutes later. She accepted his side embrace, wrapping her own arm around his torso in response. Although their fight was over, Dorothea still felt guilty about it on a few different fronts. She hadn’t meant for it to escalate to the level it had in the first place, but now that all was forgiven, she felt guilty for her continued thoughts of leaving. Although there were things to be done on the Dimitrou estates, there were plenty of people around to do them. Her father’s offer to her, as kind as it was, was more ceremonial than anything at this point. Of course, she wasn’t about to tell him that after their fight, but it still lingered in the back of her mind.

But today was not the day for such thoughts. There was plenty to keep an eye on here and she had somehow assumed a role of caring about it. Dorothea wasn’t meant to host such parties—usually she hid during them. However, for her father’s wedding she would make an exception. Probably. At least in the beginning.

“Me too,” she replied to his comment about Iason. “I know he would be here if he could.” There were many things Dorothea wished her bother was here for, though this took front and center on this occasion. It seemed she might make it through all of the festivities better if he was here to cheer her. The father and daughter enjoyed a few quiet minutes before they were joined by Evie. Dorothea returned the smile and greeting to her father’s bride, unwrapping herself from his side. That was Evie’s job now, to be by him. Dorothea gently clasped her hands in front of her, dutifully waiting for their guests to arrive.

And slowly, they began to trickle in. When Melina arrived, Dorothea gave her a wide smile, relieved to see her friend. They often hid away together at these events and there was no one else she would rather spend the day with. In fact, she had snuck away a lovely bottle of wine in her room that she hoped to partake in once there was a moment to slip away.

She hoped Melina would join her and they could discuss the very usual arrangement that was taking place today. They’d not had a moment to dissect this new relationship and in the absence of her brother, her best friend was the only person she wanted to speak with about it.
She hoped her friend would understand the secret message she was trying to convey. Dorothea would have to stay to greet their guests, but she would find Melina as soon as she was able. Of all the nobles arriving, Melina likely knew the Dimitrou estates best, having visited Dorothea many times over the years. “I’ll come find you later,” Dorothea finally told Melina, not wanting to leave silent communication to chance. “For now, please make yourself at home. We have refreshments in the gardens and rooms should you like to take a rest. But for now, please enjoy.”

No sooner than she said that did royalty begin to arrive. Dorothea was fine greeting her friend, but would leave the next bit to her father.

Being in Taengea still made Celine more nervous than not, but she wouldn't have missed Evie's wedding for the world, even if the circumstances of her leaving Taengea had been dangerous. She had liked Evie as a child- both seemed to like to climb trees and ride horses, and having court access meant she would have an invite to wherever her father went. And it was a bit easier to think that today, she would be among people she knew, and that had sealed her decision.

That her family was not currently with her was something nobody else other than the friends she was staying with needed to know. But she was glad to have learned of the wedding- an excuse to stay longer- to give herself a little more time to plan the rest of her journey. If Max had wanted her to be with him, she would come to Egypt at almost any cost, but that didn't mean it was going to be easy.

She smiled as she entered the line of well-wishers, hoping to have a moment alone with Evie at some point to catch up. She was a little sad when she thought of Max just now, wondering if he and she would see a wedding day. In reality, they might have been well-suited...if only his father weren't so ambitious! Then again, he was a captain. Maybe officers in the army did deserve spouses of higher quality. She did wonder sometimes if officers had their own set of rules just like the nobility and those who associated with them seemed to.

Maybe she should ask someone sometime, and now that she was aware that Max returned her feelings, it should be sooner rather than later... but not now, though if Evie did happen to ask how she was doing, she'd be more than happy to gush about Max. Celine wondered if Evie would be as happy with the man she was marrying today, and she truly hoped so, though she knew a noble's chances of marrying for love were likely even less than her own might be.

She was so preoccupied with both her thoughts and trying to find a discreet way to dislodge a stubborn pebble that seemed to have sneaked its way into her sandal that for a few blessed minutes, she forgot to be nervous about who might or might not be looking for her. Maybe she should have sneaked away to Taengea and conquered the fear long before now. Looking for people her parents would have recognized relaxed Perhaps it was just because she was here to wish Evie well, but she didn't feel so on edge today. Maybe that was what was missing from her life in Colchis now that the majority of her friends were gone to war-a sense of purpose and distraction from worry that her family, try as they might, did not always provide.

What does Evie see in him? He has children older than she is.

Imma shuddered as she watched her cousin with the man she would marry today. He was so old. And scary. She had arrived a few days ago to help with the preparations, mainly to atone for the trouble that she had allegedly caused at Evie’s party on the beach. It was hard to believe what she had supposedly done. She didn’t remember a thing. Did I really try to marry a sea lion that I thought was Poseidon? There must have been more in my glass than just wine.

Still, she would rather marry a sea lion that Lord Gavriil. Imma had avoided him like the plague since she arrived. She didn’t know why he frightened her, just that he did. Evie seemed happy with him, she thought. Their union did not seem like the usual arranged marriage between two people who barely knew each other. They acted like they were really in love.

Would she fall in love with an old man someday too? No, definitely not. Too many wrinkles, probably all over their bodies. Yuck! Her stomach lurched and she feared that the delicacies she had been sampling were about to make an unwanted reappearance. Why did I even think of old men getting naked? I’ll never eat again!

Only a few seconds later, Imma picked up a skewer of grilled shrimp and slid them off with her teeth so that they fell into her mouth. Nothing would keep the youngest Leventi girl from enjoying food, not even naked old geezers. She was hungry all the time and often wondered if she would ever stop growing. Especially her bosom. There were less folds in her chiton around that area than there had been last month, and sometimes a bit of cleavage peeked from the neckline.

For this part of the celebration, she had chosen a lavender chiton fastened at one shoulder and along one arm with topaz fibulae. The other shoulder was fastened with a plain gold fibula which could not be seen because of the saffron himation embroidered with purple flowers that she wore over it, The himation was fastened with amethyst fibulae along her other arm.

A wide golden necklace encircled her neck with pendants of alternating topazes and amethysts hanging from it, and matching earrings dangled from her earlobes. Her only other adornment was a circlet made of the matching jewels that wrapped around her forehead. Imma’s hair was arranged in a coiffure of braids and curls woven with lavender and saffron ribbons. A few curly strands had already escaped from their confinement.

She watched as Melina congratulated the happy couple. Lord Gavriil;s daughter Lady Dorothea stood beside them. What did she think of having a stepmother who was younger than she was? If Imma was in that position, she wouldn't like it at all and would run away from home.

Not that she lived at home anymore. She hoped that Uncle Fotios, Aunt Erini, and her cousins had not been happy when she had left for Meganea a few days early She tried her best not to cause any problems so she wouldn’t be sent back to Macendia where she would have to watch her mother’s belly grow with a sibling she already hated. Vasiliadon was where she felt ahe belonged and she had no intention of leaving.

Imma saw Nana too, walking toward the refreshment tables. Hastily filling another plate, she stepped behind a tall bush so that her sister wouldn't see her and call her a pig again.

Elise sat across from Xene and beside Gianna, whose hand she’d pulled into her lap and held it there, balled in her palm. She was not unaware of how she might be received at this wedding. Indeed, she was still in as much shock as anyone else at her own outburst at the coronation and had been dutifully hiding ever since. But the former queen was a social woman, a butterfly flitting from person to person and alighting nowhere for long. She yearned for company and pageantry - which they were sure to find (after a fashion) with the Dimitrou wedding. The wedding would be nothing to the pageantry that had been done so lately for the Mikaelidas clan, but that couldn’t be helped. The Dimitrous were so unfashionable and intentionally so that it was nearly endearing. Besides, the less formal this was, the better it would be for her.

“I pray that today's festivities will be much different than cousin Achilleas'.” Xene’s voice drew her eye away from the window and she peered at her daughter.

“There’s no one to die, is there?” she asked airily. “Unless Lord Gavriil decides to have a heart attack…” she added faintly with a wave of her hand. “People dropping dead all over the place lately.” There was a humorless laugh and she felt Gianna stiffen at her side.

“Please,” Xene pleaded and Elise gave her a sharp look. “Just today. Just tonight is all that I ask.”

“What do you mean?” Elise demanded, temper flaring because she knew perfectly well what Xene was pleading. How dare she bring that up. Then, Elise held up her hand, lips pressed tightly together, and glared out the window. “Never mind,” she said icily. It was probably the most grating thing in the entire world to be treated like a child by her own offspring. Xene wasn’t even the only one. Stephanos had been just as bad about it, prior to his unfortunate flight.

She’d been blind to lean on Irakles so, but how could she not have? He’d been so strong, so sure, so there. A constant. Now her husband, son, brother in law, and youngest son were all gone and she was left with an ungrateful daughter and an anxious one. The way Xene had been looking at her lately, as though she might explode made her absolutely want to.

The carriage finally rolled to a stop and, as she’d done countless times before, Elise pasted on a smile as though nothing at all was wrong and alighted onto the gorgeous ground of Meganea. Her dress fluttered around her as she preened and fawned over every single person she passed. Jewels glittered and dripped from her ears, neck, wrists, fingers. She was a vision in soft pinks and though her blonde hair was fading from wheat gold into a subdued sandy color, she fancied herself still radiant. If she put on a good enough show, everyone might forget her momentary lapse in sanity at Achilleas’s coronation. Her dearest wish was that Xene would forget, too.

Accepting the bows and murmurs from the wedding party, she flitted towards the feast tables and acted as though that unpleasantness in the carriage had never happened.