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It was with some caution that the master informer made his way back into the inner circle in the bright and early morning sunlight. Evidence of the previous days disquiet littered the streets, the heavy presence of the Athenian Guard at the Palati gates demonstration enough that the riots had sparked some fear in the royal household.
Cicero had not yet returned to investigate whatever carnage remained of his own home, that would have to wait. Some hastily exchanged missives through the night had set him on a new course this day, and he cast a glance at the man walking beside him, looked him up and down.
“If anyone asks, you travelled from Taengea especially to attend the young princess” he reminded needlessly. Athanos was an intelligent man and a good physician. He only had to be himself to help oil the wheels of this endeavour.
Cicero himself was grim-faced, or perhaps more grim-faced as he was never one to wear a flimsy smile. That things had gotten to the state they had...well it did not reflect well on any of them, if he were honest, but the time had most certainly come to do something about it.
In the rolls of parchment clasped under his arm he bore his monthly report, within were copies of the letters sent from Taengea seeking aid that Athenia had not sent. Breaking a treaty that could have catastrophic consequences if their allies in Colchis and Taengea chose to close down trade, or worse, move against them in a military manner. He carried documents detailing the exports from the provinces, the strange breaks in the supply chain that saw the capitol starved of food. All the records he had managed to gather that could be shown to the Princess should she choose to doubt the testimony of the Master Informer, her Cheif Advisor, the Head of the Antonis House and the Captain of the King’s Guard.
He hoped she had inherited enough of her father’s sense that they would not be needed.
Athanos was more of an assurance of his admittance than anything, if anyone should question his presence, which they had no need to. He looked toward the position of the sun, quickened his steps a little. Much of the execution of their plans was dependent on timings aligning.
Well known enough by the palati guards who usually manned the door, the members of the Athenian Guard were less familiar and Cicero happily showed them his senatorial seal. He expression did not shift save for a minute lift of his brows, a hint of surprise that he would be stopped at all, but he did not have to state any further purpose, the guard giving a nod and allowing Athanos and him to pass through.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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It was with some caution that the master informer made his way back into the inner circle in the bright and early morning sunlight. Evidence of the previous days disquiet littered the streets, the heavy presence of the Athenian Guard at the Palati gates demonstration enough that the riots had sparked some fear in the royal household.
Cicero had not yet returned to investigate whatever carnage remained of his own home, that would have to wait. Some hastily exchanged missives through the night had set him on a new course this day, and he cast a glance at the man walking beside him, looked him up and down.
“If anyone asks, you travelled from Taengea especially to attend the young princess” he reminded needlessly. Athanos was an intelligent man and a good physician. He only had to be himself to help oil the wheels of this endeavour.
Cicero himself was grim-faced, or perhaps more grim-faced as he was never one to wear a flimsy smile. That things had gotten to the state they had...well it did not reflect well on any of them, if he were honest, but the time had most certainly come to do something about it.
In the rolls of parchment clasped under his arm he bore his monthly report, within were copies of the letters sent from Taengea seeking aid that Athenia had not sent. Breaking a treaty that could have catastrophic consequences if their allies in Colchis and Taengea chose to close down trade, or worse, move against them in a military manner. He carried documents detailing the exports from the provinces, the strange breaks in the supply chain that saw the capitol starved of food. All the records he had managed to gather that could be shown to the Princess should she choose to doubt the testimony of the Master Informer, her Cheif Advisor, the Head of the Antonis House and the Captain of the King’s Guard.
He hoped she had inherited enough of her father’s sense that they would not be needed.
Athanos was more of an assurance of his admittance than anything, if anyone should question his presence, which they had no need to. He looked toward the position of the sun, quickened his steps a little. Much of the execution of their plans was dependent on timings aligning.
Well known enough by the palati guards who usually manned the door, the members of the Athenian Guard were less familiar and Cicero happily showed them his senatorial seal. He expression did not shift save for a minute lift of his brows, a hint of surprise that he would be stopped at all, but he did not have to state any further purpose, the guard giving a nod and allowing Athanos and him to pass through.
It was with some caution that the master informer made his way back into the inner circle in the bright and early morning sunlight. Evidence of the previous days disquiet littered the streets, the heavy presence of the Athenian Guard at the Palati gates demonstration enough that the riots had sparked some fear in the royal household.
Cicero had not yet returned to investigate whatever carnage remained of his own home, that would have to wait. Some hastily exchanged missives through the night had set him on a new course this day, and he cast a glance at the man walking beside him, looked him up and down.
“If anyone asks, you travelled from Taengea especially to attend the young princess” he reminded needlessly. Athanos was an intelligent man and a good physician. He only had to be himself to help oil the wheels of this endeavour.
Cicero himself was grim-faced, or perhaps more grim-faced as he was never one to wear a flimsy smile. That things had gotten to the state they had...well it did not reflect well on any of them, if he were honest, but the time had most certainly come to do something about it.
In the rolls of parchment clasped under his arm he bore his monthly report, within were copies of the letters sent from Taengea seeking aid that Athenia had not sent. Breaking a treaty that could have catastrophic consequences if their allies in Colchis and Taengea chose to close down trade, or worse, move against them in a military manner. He carried documents detailing the exports from the provinces, the strange breaks in the supply chain that saw the capitol starved of food. All the records he had managed to gather that could be shown to the Princess should she choose to doubt the testimony of the Master Informer, her Cheif Advisor, the Head of the Antonis House and the Captain of the King’s Guard.
He hoped she had inherited enough of her father’s sense that they would not be needed.
Athanos was more of an assurance of his admittance than anything, if anyone should question his presence, which they had no need to. He looked toward the position of the sun, quickened his steps a little. Much of the execution of their plans was dependent on timings aligning.
Well known enough by the palati guards who usually manned the door, the members of the Athenian Guard were less familiar and Cicero happily showed them his senatorial seal. He expression did not shift save for a minute lift of his brows, a hint of surprise that he would be stopped at all, but he did not have to state any further purpose, the guard giving a nod and allowing Athanos and him to pass through.
It had been one hell of a night. Hector was tired and sore and worried, but as he approached the Palati, he could show none of those things. There was a distinct tinge of guilt lingering in his mind, knowing that he had walked away from the chaos of the night before with a few scrapes and bruises, whereas others came out much worse and remained recovering at the Antonis estate.
If Hector had been more than one man, he could have done more. But there was consolation in helping Lady Hebe and Lady Marietta return to their home, though in horrid shape. Gregor would have been a better one to assess Lady Hebe's injuries, and he saw the pain the girl bore aloud at them. Chilling, though, was the silence of Lady Marietta's unconscious form that he carried to the estate. For years, he always seemed to find himself in the young noblewoman's orbit, and though their worlds could not have been more different, he found that he enjoyed her company - even if he did not understand it.
But there was something that seemed to ache in his chest at the sight of her, beaten and bleeding, that shifted. He could not put a name to it, but it felt like a searing burn.
The hollow look in Ariadne's eyes frightened him more than any battle he fought in the sands of Egypt, more than when he came close to stepping on the shores of the River Styx as well. She had been dizzy and disoriented, even as she tried to feign that she was not. Not one to dwell usually, he had a hard time thinking past the chill of the moment when she had looked over his shoulder at nothing, seeing something that was not there - someone she had never met.
Hector knew he would be forever grateful to the Antonis as they accepted her into their care. Particularly as the plans that he and Lord Alehandros had set the night before and coordinated with missives across the city in the then-quiet hours were set into motion with the rising of the sun. It began with Hector leaving the estate early, dressed plainly but cleanly with borrowed clothes, and made his way to the Palati.
With a Xanthos still in residence in the Palace, no matter who else may have begun lurking in within those walls, the guards at the front were Xanthos guards. That could not be mistaken. Their faces, names, and families were familiar to him from all his venturing. Above all else, he outranked them, knowing he could pull such if needed - but that proved unnecessary, for after a brief moment of conversation - 'are you alright? how did your family fare last night?' - and the explanation that he was returning to retrieve his daughter's affects from her service in the palace, he was granted entrance.
It was nice to know that, even in all of this, certain things remained the same.
It did not take long for him to pass through the courtyard. Should any have asked, and they didn't, he would merely say that he was awaiting the help of a particular steward or handmaiden who would be able to have access to the chambers of the ladies' maids to retrieve such things.
Of course, few would have time to ask him such a thing and he had been lingering for only a handful of moment before he saw the familiar face of the Master Informer arriving as well.
"Master Cicero," Hector greeted, solemn and quiet but with a dip of his head. "I hope you and your family fared well last night." It would be common talk, as he was certain many of the citizens in Athenia would wake to question all that had happened. Nothing out of the ordinary for a bit of small talk.
...especially as they waited for the third party in their plan to arrive.
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It had been one hell of a night. Hector was tired and sore and worried, but as he approached the Palati, he could show none of those things. There was a distinct tinge of guilt lingering in his mind, knowing that he had walked away from the chaos of the night before with a few scrapes and bruises, whereas others came out much worse and remained recovering at the Antonis estate.
If Hector had been more than one man, he could have done more. But there was consolation in helping Lady Hebe and Lady Marietta return to their home, though in horrid shape. Gregor would have been a better one to assess Lady Hebe's injuries, and he saw the pain the girl bore aloud at them. Chilling, though, was the silence of Lady Marietta's unconscious form that he carried to the estate. For years, he always seemed to find himself in the young noblewoman's orbit, and though their worlds could not have been more different, he found that he enjoyed her company - even if he did not understand it.
But there was something that seemed to ache in his chest at the sight of her, beaten and bleeding, that shifted. He could not put a name to it, but it felt like a searing burn.
The hollow look in Ariadne's eyes frightened him more than any battle he fought in the sands of Egypt, more than when he came close to stepping on the shores of the River Styx as well. She had been dizzy and disoriented, even as she tried to feign that she was not. Not one to dwell usually, he had a hard time thinking past the chill of the moment when she had looked over his shoulder at nothing, seeing something that was not there - someone she had never met.
Hector knew he would be forever grateful to the Antonis as they accepted her into their care. Particularly as the plans that he and Lord Alehandros had set the night before and coordinated with missives across the city in the then-quiet hours were set into motion with the rising of the sun. It began with Hector leaving the estate early, dressed plainly but cleanly with borrowed clothes, and made his way to the Palati.
With a Xanthos still in residence in the Palace, no matter who else may have begun lurking in within those walls, the guards at the front were Xanthos guards. That could not be mistaken. Their faces, names, and families were familiar to him from all his venturing. Above all else, he outranked them, knowing he could pull such if needed - but that proved unnecessary, for after a brief moment of conversation - 'are you alright? how did your family fare last night?' - and the explanation that he was returning to retrieve his daughter's affects from her service in the palace, he was granted entrance.
It was nice to know that, even in all of this, certain things remained the same.
It did not take long for him to pass through the courtyard. Should any have asked, and they didn't, he would merely say that he was awaiting the help of a particular steward or handmaiden who would be able to have access to the chambers of the ladies' maids to retrieve such things.
Of course, few would have time to ask him such a thing and he had been lingering for only a handful of moment before he saw the familiar face of the Master Informer arriving as well.
"Master Cicero," Hector greeted, solemn and quiet but with a dip of his head. "I hope you and your family fared well last night." It would be common talk, as he was certain many of the citizens in Athenia would wake to question all that had happened. Nothing out of the ordinary for a bit of small talk.
...especially as they waited for the third party in their plan to arrive.
It had been one hell of a night. Hector was tired and sore and worried, but as he approached the Palati, he could show none of those things. There was a distinct tinge of guilt lingering in his mind, knowing that he had walked away from the chaos of the night before with a few scrapes and bruises, whereas others came out much worse and remained recovering at the Antonis estate.
If Hector had been more than one man, he could have done more. But there was consolation in helping Lady Hebe and Lady Marietta return to their home, though in horrid shape. Gregor would have been a better one to assess Lady Hebe's injuries, and he saw the pain the girl bore aloud at them. Chilling, though, was the silence of Lady Marietta's unconscious form that he carried to the estate. For years, he always seemed to find himself in the young noblewoman's orbit, and though their worlds could not have been more different, he found that he enjoyed her company - even if he did not understand it.
But there was something that seemed to ache in his chest at the sight of her, beaten and bleeding, that shifted. He could not put a name to it, but it felt like a searing burn.
The hollow look in Ariadne's eyes frightened him more than any battle he fought in the sands of Egypt, more than when he came close to stepping on the shores of the River Styx as well. She had been dizzy and disoriented, even as she tried to feign that she was not. Not one to dwell usually, he had a hard time thinking past the chill of the moment when she had looked over his shoulder at nothing, seeing something that was not there - someone she had never met.
Hector knew he would be forever grateful to the Antonis as they accepted her into their care. Particularly as the plans that he and Lord Alehandros had set the night before and coordinated with missives across the city in the then-quiet hours were set into motion with the rising of the sun. It began with Hector leaving the estate early, dressed plainly but cleanly with borrowed clothes, and made his way to the Palati.
With a Xanthos still in residence in the Palace, no matter who else may have begun lurking in within those walls, the guards at the front were Xanthos guards. That could not be mistaken. Their faces, names, and families were familiar to him from all his venturing. Above all else, he outranked them, knowing he could pull such if needed - but that proved unnecessary, for after a brief moment of conversation - 'are you alright? how did your family fare last night?' - and the explanation that he was returning to retrieve his daughter's affects from her service in the palace, he was granted entrance.
It was nice to know that, even in all of this, certain things remained the same.
It did not take long for him to pass through the courtyard. Should any have asked, and they didn't, he would merely say that he was awaiting the help of a particular steward or handmaiden who would be able to have access to the chambers of the ladies' maids to retrieve such things.
Of course, few would have time to ask him such a thing and he had been lingering for only a handful of moment before he saw the familiar face of the Master Informer arriving as well.
"Master Cicero," Hector greeted, solemn and quiet but with a dip of his head. "I hope you and your family fared well last night." It would be common talk, as he was certain many of the citizens in Athenia would wake to question all that had happened. Nothing out of the ordinary for a bit of small talk.
...especially as they waited for the third party in their plan to arrive.
A burned province, a daughter injured, and a second one who has yet to open her eyes, to say the Antonis Lord was furious would be an understatement. Not a second he could sleep, thinking at any moment his daughter would leave to ride across the River of Styx. And his youngest, Hebe, saw far too much, suffered far too much a woman at her age should ever have to. Enough was enough- Alehandros had failed his family and his kingdom at the Senate meeting allowing the laws to change at the beginning of this all. If Apollo had granted him a glimpse into the future, how different that meeting would have gone. And while the Antonis stayed out of politics, no longer will the family remain silent. The time to act was now.
To the Palatai Alehandros went; a palatai he spent his life denying. But while this was his mistake, a responsibility he swore he would never take, he would not allow the current Princess to do the same. Something needed to be done and the scourge plaguing Athenia needed to be dealt with: That of Elias of Stravos.
Alehandros never claimed to be perfect, but he tried to be wise. He tried to lead the Antonis house and his family members with an even head and large heart. But the riots in Athenia and his previous trust that things will all right prove just how fallible a man he was. Never did he want violence on the streets- and not because it affected his home. Never did he want to put a despot on the throne. Never did he want the Queen to be attacked, and the people to starve. Alehandros wanted none of that. Yet had he acted earlier, made the Antonis more politicially involved, done… something maybe…
Stop. It was no use to dwell. Everything Alehandros had done (and not done) had been for his people and for his family. Without foresight, he could have not have prevented anything. But now, this moment things can change. Alehandros could do what he always wanted to do- to help. But it wouldn’t be his actions that would ring the loudest. It would be a young girl’s, Emila of Xanthos.
It would not be unexpected the day after the largest riot in recent history that Alehandros would be at the palatai. With two daughters injured themselves, certainly, he would have business to attend to. Alehandros had no intention to explain himself. His eyes swept the area looking for his two- ah, there they were.
“Master Cicero, Captain Hector. I’d say good day, but…” No one in the capital would be opening their eyes thinking it was a good day. Not one… except Elias of Stravos. But should the men have their way, the days of him waking up in the palatai was rapidly coming to an end. There would be no King of Stravos, not if the Antonis had anything to say about it.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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A burned province, a daughter injured, and a second one who has yet to open her eyes, to say the Antonis Lord was furious would be an understatement. Not a second he could sleep, thinking at any moment his daughter would leave to ride across the River of Styx. And his youngest, Hebe, saw far too much, suffered far too much a woman at her age should ever have to. Enough was enough- Alehandros had failed his family and his kingdom at the Senate meeting allowing the laws to change at the beginning of this all. If Apollo had granted him a glimpse into the future, how different that meeting would have gone. And while the Antonis stayed out of politics, no longer will the family remain silent. The time to act was now.
To the Palatai Alehandros went; a palatai he spent his life denying. But while this was his mistake, a responsibility he swore he would never take, he would not allow the current Princess to do the same. Something needed to be done and the scourge plaguing Athenia needed to be dealt with: That of Elias of Stravos.
Alehandros never claimed to be perfect, but he tried to be wise. He tried to lead the Antonis house and his family members with an even head and large heart. But the riots in Athenia and his previous trust that things will all right prove just how fallible a man he was. Never did he want violence on the streets- and not because it affected his home. Never did he want to put a despot on the throne. Never did he want the Queen to be attacked, and the people to starve. Alehandros wanted none of that. Yet had he acted earlier, made the Antonis more politicially involved, done… something maybe…
Stop. It was no use to dwell. Everything Alehandros had done (and not done) had been for his people and for his family. Without foresight, he could have not have prevented anything. But now, this moment things can change. Alehandros could do what he always wanted to do- to help. But it wouldn’t be his actions that would ring the loudest. It would be a young girl’s, Emila of Xanthos.
It would not be unexpected the day after the largest riot in recent history that Alehandros would be at the palatai. With two daughters injured themselves, certainly, he would have business to attend to. Alehandros had no intention to explain himself. His eyes swept the area looking for his two- ah, there they were.
“Master Cicero, Captain Hector. I’d say good day, but…” No one in the capital would be opening their eyes thinking it was a good day. Not one… except Elias of Stravos. But should the men have their way, the days of him waking up in the palatai was rapidly coming to an end. There would be no King of Stravos, not if the Antonis had anything to say about it.
A burned province, a daughter injured, and a second one who has yet to open her eyes, to say the Antonis Lord was furious would be an understatement. Not a second he could sleep, thinking at any moment his daughter would leave to ride across the River of Styx. And his youngest, Hebe, saw far too much, suffered far too much a woman at her age should ever have to. Enough was enough- Alehandros had failed his family and his kingdom at the Senate meeting allowing the laws to change at the beginning of this all. If Apollo had granted him a glimpse into the future, how different that meeting would have gone. And while the Antonis stayed out of politics, no longer will the family remain silent. The time to act was now.
To the Palatai Alehandros went; a palatai he spent his life denying. But while this was his mistake, a responsibility he swore he would never take, he would not allow the current Princess to do the same. Something needed to be done and the scourge plaguing Athenia needed to be dealt with: That of Elias of Stravos.
Alehandros never claimed to be perfect, but he tried to be wise. He tried to lead the Antonis house and his family members with an even head and large heart. But the riots in Athenia and his previous trust that things will all right prove just how fallible a man he was. Never did he want violence on the streets- and not because it affected his home. Never did he want to put a despot on the throne. Never did he want the Queen to be attacked, and the people to starve. Alehandros wanted none of that. Yet had he acted earlier, made the Antonis more politicially involved, done… something maybe…
Stop. It was no use to dwell. Everything Alehandros had done (and not done) had been for his people and for his family. Without foresight, he could have not have prevented anything. But now, this moment things can change. Alehandros could do what he always wanted to do- to help. But it wouldn’t be his actions that would ring the loudest. It would be a young girl’s, Emila of Xanthos.
It would not be unexpected the day after the largest riot in recent history that Alehandros would be at the palatai. With two daughters injured themselves, certainly, he would have business to attend to. Alehandros had no intention to explain himself. His eyes swept the area looking for his two- ah, there they were.
“Master Cicero, Captain Hector. I’d say good day, but…” No one in the capital would be opening their eyes thinking it was a good day. Not one… except Elias of Stravos. But should the men have their way, the days of him waking up in the palatai was rapidly coming to an end. There would be no King of Stravos, not if the Antonis had anything to say about it.
“What a fortuitous meeting Captain”. The master informer tilted his head a little by way of greeting, a motion that turned into a half-shrug at the soldier’s question. “My family are safe, and that is as much as I can say. Would that the children had not born witness to what they did” He paused a moment before he gestured towards his companion. “This is Dr Athanos. An esteemed physician friend of mine.”
It had been the story spun around the young princess all along: ill- health prevented her attending court. She was too unwell to respond to missives. Her convalescence mustn't be rushed. It made sense then that the finest doctors should attend her. “Athanos, this is Sir Hector, Captain of the Xanthos guard” And then as he if he had suddenly remembered the importance of other such social niceties, Cicero blinked at the soldier. “I trust you and your own were able to find some shelter, Captain?”
That he knew well enough where the man had taken shelter was a detail that did not need to be shared as part of their ruse. There had been one very busy messenger boy running the streets of the Capital last night, his work invaluable. Now would be the reckoning of all that.
With a long slow breath in through his nose, Cicero idly tapped the ends of the scrolls he held, bringing them level before he turned them around and carried out the same exercise on the opposite end. His stare was impassive, but he marked well the movement of others around the Palati; those faces he knew to be friendly, and those others he knew to lean toward the Stravos favour.
Whilst tightening their grips around the Princess, Cicero knew they had installed several members of staff in the palati who had been hand-selected for their loyalties. That they were not nearly as subtle as they thought they were in doing so was a thing that could only work in favour of those who looked to move against them.
Sweeping a cool blue gaze around the marble foyer, they waited in; Cicero gave a discreet bow to Lord Alehandros as he joined them. So far, so good.
‘Master Cicero, Captain Hector. I’d say good day, but…’
“It is not yet, but it still may be, my Lord” the spymaster replied, before repeating his introductions of the good Doctor. With that done, he made a sweeping motion with his hand for them to move down one of the many hallways of the Palati. That this one led to the Xanthos’ private quarters was no secret to at least two of their party.
“Shall we, gentlemen?”
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Check out their information page here.
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“What a fortuitous meeting Captain”. The master informer tilted his head a little by way of greeting, a motion that turned into a half-shrug at the soldier’s question. “My family are safe, and that is as much as I can say. Would that the children had not born witness to what they did” He paused a moment before he gestured towards his companion. “This is Dr Athanos. An esteemed physician friend of mine.”
It had been the story spun around the young princess all along: ill- health prevented her attending court. She was too unwell to respond to missives. Her convalescence mustn't be rushed. It made sense then that the finest doctors should attend her. “Athanos, this is Sir Hector, Captain of the Xanthos guard” And then as he if he had suddenly remembered the importance of other such social niceties, Cicero blinked at the soldier. “I trust you and your own were able to find some shelter, Captain?”
That he knew well enough where the man had taken shelter was a detail that did not need to be shared as part of their ruse. There had been one very busy messenger boy running the streets of the Capital last night, his work invaluable. Now would be the reckoning of all that.
With a long slow breath in through his nose, Cicero idly tapped the ends of the scrolls he held, bringing them level before he turned them around and carried out the same exercise on the opposite end. His stare was impassive, but he marked well the movement of others around the Palati; those faces he knew to be friendly, and those others he knew to lean toward the Stravos favour.
Whilst tightening their grips around the Princess, Cicero knew they had installed several members of staff in the palati who had been hand-selected for their loyalties. That they were not nearly as subtle as they thought they were in doing so was a thing that could only work in favour of those who looked to move against them.
Sweeping a cool blue gaze around the marble foyer, they waited in; Cicero gave a discreet bow to Lord Alehandros as he joined them. So far, so good.
‘Master Cicero, Captain Hector. I’d say good day, but…’
“It is not yet, but it still may be, my Lord” the spymaster replied, before repeating his introductions of the good Doctor. With that done, he made a sweeping motion with his hand for them to move down one of the many hallways of the Palati. That this one led to the Xanthos’ private quarters was no secret to at least two of their party.
“Shall we, gentlemen?”
“What a fortuitous meeting Captain”. The master informer tilted his head a little by way of greeting, a motion that turned into a half-shrug at the soldier’s question. “My family are safe, and that is as much as I can say. Would that the children had not born witness to what they did” He paused a moment before he gestured towards his companion. “This is Dr Athanos. An esteemed physician friend of mine.”
It had been the story spun around the young princess all along: ill- health prevented her attending court. She was too unwell to respond to missives. Her convalescence mustn't be rushed. It made sense then that the finest doctors should attend her. “Athanos, this is Sir Hector, Captain of the Xanthos guard” And then as he if he had suddenly remembered the importance of other such social niceties, Cicero blinked at the soldier. “I trust you and your own were able to find some shelter, Captain?”
That he knew well enough where the man had taken shelter was a detail that did not need to be shared as part of their ruse. There had been one very busy messenger boy running the streets of the Capital last night, his work invaluable. Now would be the reckoning of all that.
With a long slow breath in through his nose, Cicero idly tapped the ends of the scrolls he held, bringing them level before he turned them around and carried out the same exercise on the opposite end. His stare was impassive, but he marked well the movement of others around the Palati; those faces he knew to be friendly, and those others he knew to lean toward the Stravos favour.
Whilst tightening their grips around the Princess, Cicero knew they had installed several members of staff in the palati who had been hand-selected for their loyalties. That they were not nearly as subtle as they thought they were in doing so was a thing that could only work in favour of those who looked to move against them.
Sweeping a cool blue gaze around the marble foyer, they waited in; Cicero gave a discreet bow to Lord Alehandros as he joined them. So far, so good.
‘Master Cicero, Captain Hector. I’d say good day, but…’
“It is not yet, but it still may be, my Lord” the spymaster replied, before repeating his introductions of the good Doctor. With that done, he made a sweeping motion with his hand for them to move down one of the many hallways of the Palati. That this one led to the Xanthos’ private quarters was no secret to at least two of their party.
“Shall we, gentlemen?”
Hector did not know the Master Informer all that well. In fact, their last in-person interaction at the remains of the Argyris manner had been odd to put it best. In truth, Hector found the man unsettling. Not for any reason he could put his finger on, but likely rooted in the fact that there were likely secrets the man knew that would keep anyone up at night. Hector could live without such things, but the veneer that they all wore in such courtly things just made Cicero seem all the more...dangerous.
Still, the knowledge of their common purpose offered some edge of comfort. Hector would far rather have the man with him than against him.
"Understandably so," Hector concurred, nodding. Small talk. Easy enough. He tilted his head towards the 'physician' who did the same upon his own introduction. "Ah, yes. We were able to, thank you. I was relieved to find the city far calmer this morning. When business is done here, I look forward to returning my home province." And the houseguests who remained there, in the dark completely about the events of the night before - at least until the coded messenger arrived sometime in the hours to come.
As Lord Alehandros approached with his greeting, Hector offered an appropriate bow and his eyes flicked between the men before glancing about the Palati again. Passing faces, many eyes, but the men before them seemed confident enough that they would be able to reach their destination without issue. Being in such company, he imagined they would.
Hector wondered if Lesley would be there with the Princess, perhaps standing guard at her door. That would allow very easy access for the other men to have their audience with her. And, importantly, if he had the moment, he could let her know about the status of her sister.
That was, if they were able to make that happen.
'Shall we, gentlemen?'
Hector nodded, slightly gesturing for them to lead the way. After all, of the three of them, they had the most purpose within these walls. Hector was merely ornamentation...or assistance if needing to confer with particular Xanthos guardsmen that he knew well.
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Hector did not know the Master Informer all that well. In fact, their last in-person interaction at the remains of the Argyris manner had been odd to put it best. In truth, Hector found the man unsettling. Not for any reason he could put his finger on, but likely rooted in the fact that there were likely secrets the man knew that would keep anyone up at night. Hector could live without such things, but the veneer that they all wore in such courtly things just made Cicero seem all the more...dangerous.
Still, the knowledge of their common purpose offered some edge of comfort. Hector would far rather have the man with him than against him.
"Understandably so," Hector concurred, nodding. Small talk. Easy enough. He tilted his head towards the 'physician' who did the same upon his own introduction. "Ah, yes. We were able to, thank you. I was relieved to find the city far calmer this morning. When business is done here, I look forward to returning my home province." And the houseguests who remained there, in the dark completely about the events of the night before - at least until the coded messenger arrived sometime in the hours to come.
As Lord Alehandros approached with his greeting, Hector offered an appropriate bow and his eyes flicked between the men before glancing about the Palati again. Passing faces, many eyes, but the men before them seemed confident enough that they would be able to reach their destination without issue. Being in such company, he imagined they would.
Hector wondered if Lesley would be there with the Princess, perhaps standing guard at her door. That would allow very easy access for the other men to have their audience with her. And, importantly, if he had the moment, he could let her know about the status of her sister.
That was, if they were able to make that happen.
'Shall we, gentlemen?'
Hector nodded, slightly gesturing for them to lead the way. After all, of the three of them, they had the most purpose within these walls. Hector was merely ornamentation...or assistance if needing to confer with particular Xanthos guardsmen that he knew well.
Hector did not know the Master Informer all that well. In fact, their last in-person interaction at the remains of the Argyris manner had been odd to put it best. In truth, Hector found the man unsettling. Not for any reason he could put his finger on, but likely rooted in the fact that there were likely secrets the man knew that would keep anyone up at night. Hector could live without such things, but the veneer that they all wore in such courtly things just made Cicero seem all the more...dangerous.
Still, the knowledge of their common purpose offered some edge of comfort. Hector would far rather have the man with him than against him.
"Understandably so," Hector concurred, nodding. Small talk. Easy enough. He tilted his head towards the 'physician' who did the same upon his own introduction. "Ah, yes. We were able to, thank you. I was relieved to find the city far calmer this morning. When business is done here, I look forward to returning my home province." And the houseguests who remained there, in the dark completely about the events of the night before - at least until the coded messenger arrived sometime in the hours to come.
As Lord Alehandros approached with his greeting, Hector offered an appropriate bow and his eyes flicked between the men before glancing about the Palati again. Passing faces, many eyes, but the men before them seemed confident enough that they would be able to reach their destination without issue. Being in such company, he imagined they would.
Hector wondered if Lesley would be there with the Princess, perhaps standing guard at her door. That would allow very easy access for the other men to have their audience with her. And, importantly, if he had the moment, he could let her know about the status of her sister.
That was, if they were able to make that happen.
'Shall we, gentlemen?'
Hector nodded, slightly gesturing for them to lead the way. After all, of the three of them, they had the most purpose within these walls. Hector was merely ornamentation...or assistance if needing to confer with particular Xanthos guardsmen that he knew well.
It is not yet, but it still may be. Aptly put. But should Emilia take the proper first steps today as the men hoped, it would still take a long time before light shines upon Athenia once more. The city was broken, the people were hurt and trust would take a long time to mend- both between nobility and common folk. There may be calm days, but good days were far beyond the horizon.
But perhaps this was the pessimistic view. It could be in front of Alehandros should he just open his eyes and see it. His vision of the world was often skewed, and his desires different than those around him. At this point in his life, he could recognize just that- and there was no changing who he was.
But nevermind these thoughts. Alehandros’s mind was to stay sharp and clear, the men had a mission ahead of them. Security was strict around the palatai unsurprisingly. The tension in the air was tense. There were likely guards that lost their own the night before- or if not their own their daughters and sisters. The city of Athenia mourned the fallen last night, not one person didn’t suffer the evening prior. Well, no that was a lie. Alehandros was quite sure Elias slept incredibly well.
The imbecile.
The trio made their way to the royal quarters fairly easily. It required some smooth-talking but nothing that really concerned Alehandros. No, the difficult part wasn’t getting in this wing of the palatai, but the Princess’s room itself. And the moment they entered Alehandros would be unsurprised if some runner would make their way to Elias. One should hope he is not in the palatai to immediately stop it.
“Well,” Alehandros said quietly to the men as they rounded the corner. Outside the Princess’s door was a man Alehandros had seen many times before- Lesley, her own personal guard. Emilia was assuredly inside. “Let us begin.”
He made his way to Lesley, each step confident. He said but one simple sentence to the guard. “We bring a healer for the Princess.”
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It is not yet, but it still may be. Aptly put. But should Emilia take the proper first steps today as the men hoped, it would still take a long time before light shines upon Athenia once more. The city was broken, the people were hurt and trust would take a long time to mend- both between nobility and common folk. There may be calm days, but good days were far beyond the horizon.
But perhaps this was the pessimistic view. It could be in front of Alehandros should he just open his eyes and see it. His vision of the world was often skewed, and his desires different than those around him. At this point in his life, he could recognize just that- and there was no changing who he was.
But nevermind these thoughts. Alehandros’s mind was to stay sharp and clear, the men had a mission ahead of them. Security was strict around the palatai unsurprisingly. The tension in the air was tense. There were likely guards that lost their own the night before- or if not their own their daughters and sisters. The city of Athenia mourned the fallen last night, not one person didn’t suffer the evening prior. Well, no that was a lie. Alehandros was quite sure Elias slept incredibly well.
The imbecile.
The trio made their way to the royal quarters fairly easily. It required some smooth-talking but nothing that really concerned Alehandros. No, the difficult part wasn’t getting in this wing of the palatai, but the Princess’s room itself. And the moment they entered Alehandros would be unsurprised if some runner would make their way to Elias. One should hope he is not in the palatai to immediately stop it.
“Well,” Alehandros said quietly to the men as they rounded the corner. Outside the Princess’s door was a man Alehandros had seen many times before- Lesley, her own personal guard. Emilia was assuredly inside. “Let us begin.”
He made his way to Lesley, each step confident. He said but one simple sentence to the guard. “We bring a healer for the Princess.”
It is not yet, but it still may be. Aptly put. But should Emilia take the proper first steps today as the men hoped, it would still take a long time before light shines upon Athenia once more. The city was broken, the people were hurt and trust would take a long time to mend- both between nobility and common folk. There may be calm days, but good days were far beyond the horizon.
But perhaps this was the pessimistic view. It could be in front of Alehandros should he just open his eyes and see it. His vision of the world was often skewed, and his desires different than those around him. At this point in his life, he could recognize just that- and there was no changing who he was.
But nevermind these thoughts. Alehandros’s mind was to stay sharp and clear, the men had a mission ahead of them. Security was strict around the palatai unsurprisingly. The tension in the air was tense. There were likely guards that lost their own the night before- or if not their own their daughters and sisters. The city of Athenia mourned the fallen last night, not one person didn’t suffer the evening prior. Well, no that was a lie. Alehandros was quite sure Elias slept incredibly well.
The imbecile.
The trio made their way to the royal quarters fairly easily. It required some smooth-talking but nothing that really concerned Alehandros. No, the difficult part wasn’t getting in this wing of the palatai, but the Princess’s room itself. And the moment they entered Alehandros would be unsurprised if some runner would make their way to Elias. One should hope he is not in the palatai to immediately stop it.
“Well,” Alehandros said quietly to the men as they rounded the corner. Outside the Princess’s door was a man Alehandros had seen many times before- Lesley, her own personal guard. Emilia was assuredly inside. “Let us begin.”
He made his way to Lesley, each step confident. He said but one simple sentence to the guard. “We bring a healer for the Princess.”
Lesley just raised an eyebrow at the man addressing him, as implacable as anyone could wish of a noble's bodyguard. "I don't know you." He turned an equally level stare on the others. Hector he had met, and the master informer he knew by sight, though they had not exchanged words as yet. You should have sent your wife, it would have been a good deal more subtle.
Then again, after yesterday, the lady might not be available, who knew?
At any rate, that left the fourth man of them as the purported physician, and Lesley assessed him in a glance.
"Captain Hector," he acknowledged, looking back at the one person he was sure of. As sure as he could be, at least - but Lesley would be very surprised indeed if the Arcanan captain didn't have the princess's best interests at heart.
Did he want to let them in? Two obviously military men, two not, but it didn't take training or skill to slip a knife between a girl's ribs while someone else occupied her bodyguard. They wouldn't likely escape afterwards - not least because the dog would have at them at that point too - but he couldn't be positive they wouldn't succeed, if they intended her harm.
Despite the fact he trusted Hector wouldn't be here if that were the case - or that he would help defend the princess if he had been deceived as well - Lesley made no attempt to hide the fact he was assessing whether he could take the lot of them. It was, after all, his job.
If Hector was the one he trusted the most of the four, the physician was the one he distrusted. It was far too easy to slip someone poison in the guise of medicine, and without betraying oneself to your target's defenders and allies until well after having made one's escape. Given Lesley knew exactly what he had told both Hector and Elysia, though, it didn't quite make sense for this group to be here at all, if he took Alehandros's words at face value, whether or not the doctor himself was honest. Which meant, obviously, that the Master Informer was up to something. What that was, he wouldn't find out unless he let them in, but without that knowledge, he couldn't be sure if he ought to.
He was left, therefore, with only his assessment of their body language as he waited for Hector to offer introductions, assurances, or explanation.
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Lesley just raised an eyebrow at the man addressing him, as implacable as anyone could wish of a noble's bodyguard. "I don't know you." He turned an equally level stare on the others. Hector he had met, and the master informer he knew by sight, though they had not exchanged words as yet. You should have sent your wife, it would have been a good deal more subtle.
Then again, after yesterday, the lady might not be available, who knew?
At any rate, that left the fourth man of them as the purported physician, and Lesley assessed him in a glance.
"Captain Hector," he acknowledged, looking back at the one person he was sure of. As sure as he could be, at least - but Lesley would be very surprised indeed if the Arcanan captain didn't have the princess's best interests at heart.
Did he want to let them in? Two obviously military men, two not, but it didn't take training or skill to slip a knife between a girl's ribs while someone else occupied her bodyguard. They wouldn't likely escape afterwards - not least because the dog would have at them at that point too - but he couldn't be positive they wouldn't succeed, if they intended her harm.
Despite the fact he trusted Hector wouldn't be here if that were the case - or that he would help defend the princess if he had been deceived as well - Lesley made no attempt to hide the fact he was assessing whether he could take the lot of them. It was, after all, his job.
If Hector was the one he trusted the most of the four, the physician was the one he distrusted. It was far too easy to slip someone poison in the guise of medicine, and without betraying oneself to your target's defenders and allies until well after having made one's escape. Given Lesley knew exactly what he had told both Hector and Elysia, though, it didn't quite make sense for this group to be here at all, if he took Alehandros's words at face value, whether or not the doctor himself was honest. Which meant, obviously, that the Master Informer was up to something. What that was, he wouldn't find out unless he let them in, but without that knowledge, he couldn't be sure if he ought to.
He was left, therefore, with only his assessment of their body language as he waited for Hector to offer introductions, assurances, or explanation.
Lesley just raised an eyebrow at the man addressing him, as implacable as anyone could wish of a noble's bodyguard. "I don't know you." He turned an equally level stare on the others. Hector he had met, and the master informer he knew by sight, though they had not exchanged words as yet. You should have sent your wife, it would have been a good deal more subtle.
Then again, after yesterday, the lady might not be available, who knew?
At any rate, that left the fourth man of them as the purported physician, and Lesley assessed him in a glance.
"Captain Hector," he acknowledged, looking back at the one person he was sure of. As sure as he could be, at least - but Lesley would be very surprised indeed if the Arcanan captain didn't have the princess's best interests at heart.
Did he want to let them in? Two obviously military men, two not, but it didn't take training or skill to slip a knife between a girl's ribs while someone else occupied her bodyguard. They wouldn't likely escape afterwards - not least because the dog would have at them at that point too - but he couldn't be positive they wouldn't succeed, if they intended her harm.
Despite the fact he trusted Hector wouldn't be here if that were the case - or that he would help defend the princess if he had been deceived as well - Lesley made no attempt to hide the fact he was assessing whether he could take the lot of them. It was, after all, his job.
If Hector was the one he trusted the most of the four, the physician was the one he distrusted. It was far too easy to slip someone poison in the guise of medicine, and without betraying oneself to your target's defenders and allies until well after having made one's escape. Given Lesley knew exactly what he had told both Hector and Elysia, though, it didn't quite make sense for this group to be here at all, if he took Alehandros's words at face value, whether or not the doctor himself was honest. Which meant, obviously, that the Master Informer was up to something. What that was, he wouldn't find out unless he let them in, but without that knowledge, he couldn't be sure if he ought to.
He was left, therefore, with only his assessment of their body language as he waited for Hector to offer introductions, assurances, or explanation.
It seemed an age at this point, since he fatefully met the gladiator-turned-guard at the bathhouse, though Hector knew barely a month had passed. In that time he had been back and forth between Arcana constantly, and each time bore an unwelcome surprise, like a riot or a murder.
One could practically feel the apprehension prickle off the guard like spines, particularly when Lord Alehandros spoke...and Lesley replied.
Hector winced slightly at it, having wished he had taken a moment to speak first, but knowing that even in such a circumstance as this, there was still the noble pecking order to apply. Still, the moment he was addressed by name, he inclined his head towards the guard.
"Master Lesley," he greeted, gesturing towards the two men at his side, "May I introduce Lord Alehandros of Antonis and Master Cicero of Aetola, along with their colleague, Master Athanos...an esteemed physician from Taengea." He gave a quick glance back to Cicero to make sure he had the name right. Regardless, it was a lie. Brief greetings were exchanged of the lightest variety, with prickly apprehension still thick in the air.
As these greetings were exchanged, Hector locked eyes on Lesley once again, his tone low, "It is our hope, sir, that with the physician's help, Her Highness would feel well enough to hear a brief report of recent events...and accept some guidance towards a resolution. One, brief visit may be less overwhelming for Her Highness, given her state."
And less obvious in a household so starkly monitored. It would not take long for the help to talk about the visitors arriving to the young royal's side, but one trip would be harder to stop than three subsequent ones. They had limited time in this endeavor, and there was no doubt in his mind that Master Cicero and Lord Alehandros would bear the brunt of the responsibility here.
After all, Hector's role was being played in this moment, and perhaps with one moment more in reminding Princess Emilia of the White Shield's commitment to her Xanthos name and it alone. All she would need would be to say the word...
...if they were allowed entrance.
"I assure you, sir," Hector offered, head tipping forward in earnest, "All here are bound by the same oath, with regards to the safety and wellbeing of the Princess. You have my word."
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It seemed an age at this point, since he fatefully met the gladiator-turned-guard at the bathhouse, though Hector knew barely a month had passed. In that time he had been back and forth between Arcana constantly, and each time bore an unwelcome surprise, like a riot or a murder.
One could practically feel the apprehension prickle off the guard like spines, particularly when Lord Alehandros spoke...and Lesley replied.
Hector winced slightly at it, having wished he had taken a moment to speak first, but knowing that even in such a circumstance as this, there was still the noble pecking order to apply. Still, the moment he was addressed by name, he inclined his head towards the guard.
"Master Lesley," he greeted, gesturing towards the two men at his side, "May I introduce Lord Alehandros of Antonis and Master Cicero of Aetola, along with their colleague, Master Athanos...an esteemed physician from Taengea." He gave a quick glance back to Cicero to make sure he had the name right. Regardless, it was a lie. Brief greetings were exchanged of the lightest variety, with prickly apprehension still thick in the air.
As these greetings were exchanged, Hector locked eyes on Lesley once again, his tone low, "It is our hope, sir, that with the physician's help, Her Highness would feel well enough to hear a brief report of recent events...and accept some guidance towards a resolution. One, brief visit may be less overwhelming for Her Highness, given her state."
And less obvious in a household so starkly monitored. It would not take long for the help to talk about the visitors arriving to the young royal's side, but one trip would be harder to stop than three subsequent ones. They had limited time in this endeavor, and there was no doubt in his mind that Master Cicero and Lord Alehandros would bear the brunt of the responsibility here.
After all, Hector's role was being played in this moment, and perhaps with one moment more in reminding Princess Emilia of the White Shield's commitment to her Xanthos name and it alone. All she would need would be to say the word...
...if they were allowed entrance.
"I assure you, sir," Hector offered, head tipping forward in earnest, "All here are bound by the same oath, with regards to the safety and wellbeing of the Princess. You have my word."
It seemed an age at this point, since he fatefully met the gladiator-turned-guard at the bathhouse, though Hector knew barely a month had passed. In that time he had been back and forth between Arcana constantly, and each time bore an unwelcome surprise, like a riot or a murder.
One could practically feel the apprehension prickle off the guard like spines, particularly when Lord Alehandros spoke...and Lesley replied.
Hector winced slightly at it, having wished he had taken a moment to speak first, but knowing that even in such a circumstance as this, there was still the noble pecking order to apply. Still, the moment he was addressed by name, he inclined his head towards the guard.
"Master Lesley," he greeted, gesturing towards the two men at his side, "May I introduce Lord Alehandros of Antonis and Master Cicero of Aetola, along with their colleague, Master Athanos...an esteemed physician from Taengea." He gave a quick glance back to Cicero to make sure he had the name right. Regardless, it was a lie. Brief greetings were exchanged of the lightest variety, with prickly apprehension still thick in the air.
As these greetings were exchanged, Hector locked eyes on Lesley once again, his tone low, "It is our hope, sir, that with the physician's help, Her Highness would feel well enough to hear a brief report of recent events...and accept some guidance towards a resolution. One, brief visit may be less overwhelming for Her Highness, given her state."
And less obvious in a household so starkly monitored. It would not take long for the help to talk about the visitors arriving to the young royal's side, but one trip would be harder to stop than three subsequent ones. They had limited time in this endeavor, and there was no doubt in his mind that Master Cicero and Lord Alehandros would bear the brunt of the responsibility here.
After all, Hector's role was being played in this moment, and perhaps with one moment more in reminding Princess Emilia of the White Shield's commitment to her Xanthos name and it alone. All she would need would be to say the word...
...if they were allowed entrance.
"I assure you, sir," Hector offered, head tipping forward in earnest, "All here are bound by the same oath, with regards to the safety and wellbeing of the Princess. You have my word."
"Hmm." The thoughtful hum sounded satisfied, at least.
All - including the Tangean physician? Interesting if so, but Lesley was more inclined to rely on Hector's assurances regardless. And hadn't he just been complaining she needed better advisors than himself?
The bodyguard didn't apologize to the Antonis Lord for his manners - there were few people indeed who could get that from him. Instead he twitched the curtain aside and stepped back into the room, a quick glance assuring him that Emelia wasn't entirely unfit to be seen by company at that moment, before clearing the doorway far enough for the other three to enter.
"Your Highness, you have some visitors."
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"Hmm." The thoughtful hum sounded satisfied, at least.
All - including the Tangean physician? Interesting if so, but Lesley was more inclined to rely on Hector's assurances regardless. And hadn't he just been complaining she needed better advisors than himself?
The bodyguard didn't apologize to the Antonis Lord for his manners - there were few people indeed who could get that from him. Instead he twitched the curtain aside and stepped back into the room, a quick glance assuring him that Emelia wasn't entirely unfit to be seen by company at that moment, before clearing the doorway far enough for the other three to enter.
"Your Highness, you have some visitors."
"Hmm." The thoughtful hum sounded satisfied, at least.
All - including the Tangean physician? Interesting if so, but Lesley was more inclined to rely on Hector's assurances regardless. And hadn't he just been complaining she needed better advisors than himself?
The bodyguard didn't apologize to the Antonis Lord for his manners - there were few people indeed who could get that from him. Instead he twitched the curtain aside and stepped back into the room, a quick glance assuring him that Emelia wasn't entirely unfit to be seen by company at that moment, before clearing the doorway far enough for the other three to enter.
"Your Highness, you have some visitors."
When they found their way to the Princess’ quarters only to have their entrance delayed by the gladiator turned bodyguard, Cicero was hard-pressed not to roll his eyes. He knew well enough whose payroll the man was on, and whether or not he had developed some genuine affection for the Princess, it did not change the Master Informer’s opinion that this was far above the man’s pay grade. A thought he did not revise with the bluntly stated ‘I don’t know you’ that was offered to the Antonis Head of House, and presumably himself. The man might have sold himself into slavery to free his mother, but Cicero was tempted to arrange to have him returned to his former position as comeuppance for standing in the way of what could be the most vital conversation to happen in their kingdom for months.
With a long-suffering sigh that he stifled between closed lips, the master informer clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, his attention taken by the detailed cornicing as he let the Captain speak. Mainly so he would not lose his temper with this oaf who thought to blockade the way of a Head of House, a Master and a Physician. Sometimes he despaired of humanity.
However, for a man of his education, Sir Hector accounted for himself well enough, and the spymaster left him to it, save to shoot a brief, press-lipped smile at the guard when he was introduced, and to look blankly at Hector when he caught his eye after introducing the doctor. Athanos could hold his own, and sure enough the physician gave a slight nod and lifted his bag as if in testimony to his profession.
Ridiculous. Cicero wondered how attentive the guard had been when it was the foolish boy lord calling. Clearly not attentive enough if a betrothal had been arranged.
And his impatience showed when the Captain of the Royal Guard was forced to reiterate their allegiance. “We do serve the crown, my good sir” he added mildly, though his gaze was cool.
It was probably for the best then, that the guard - Cicero would make a point to look into him a little further - appeared to decide they were trustworthy and moved to open the door. Oh good.
Standing back to allow Lord Alehandros to proceed, Cicero motioned for the doctor to go ahead of him also, side-eyeing the soldier before he stepped forward himself, a predictably inscrutable expression upon his features as he prepared to greet their absentee princess.
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When they found their way to the Princess’ quarters only to have their entrance delayed by the gladiator turned bodyguard, Cicero was hard-pressed not to roll his eyes. He knew well enough whose payroll the man was on, and whether or not he had developed some genuine affection for the Princess, it did not change the Master Informer’s opinion that this was far above the man’s pay grade. A thought he did not revise with the bluntly stated ‘I don’t know you’ that was offered to the Antonis Head of House, and presumably himself. The man might have sold himself into slavery to free his mother, but Cicero was tempted to arrange to have him returned to his former position as comeuppance for standing in the way of what could be the most vital conversation to happen in their kingdom for months.
With a long-suffering sigh that he stifled between closed lips, the master informer clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, his attention taken by the detailed cornicing as he let the Captain speak. Mainly so he would not lose his temper with this oaf who thought to blockade the way of a Head of House, a Master and a Physician. Sometimes he despaired of humanity.
However, for a man of his education, Sir Hector accounted for himself well enough, and the spymaster left him to it, save to shoot a brief, press-lipped smile at the guard when he was introduced, and to look blankly at Hector when he caught his eye after introducing the doctor. Athanos could hold his own, and sure enough the physician gave a slight nod and lifted his bag as if in testimony to his profession.
Ridiculous. Cicero wondered how attentive the guard had been when it was the foolish boy lord calling. Clearly not attentive enough if a betrothal had been arranged.
And his impatience showed when the Captain of the Royal Guard was forced to reiterate their allegiance. “We do serve the crown, my good sir” he added mildly, though his gaze was cool.
It was probably for the best then, that the guard - Cicero would make a point to look into him a little further - appeared to decide they were trustworthy and moved to open the door. Oh good.
Standing back to allow Lord Alehandros to proceed, Cicero motioned for the doctor to go ahead of him also, side-eyeing the soldier before he stepped forward himself, a predictably inscrutable expression upon his features as he prepared to greet their absentee princess.
When they found their way to the Princess’ quarters only to have their entrance delayed by the gladiator turned bodyguard, Cicero was hard-pressed not to roll his eyes. He knew well enough whose payroll the man was on, and whether or not he had developed some genuine affection for the Princess, it did not change the Master Informer’s opinion that this was far above the man’s pay grade. A thought he did not revise with the bluntly stated ‘I don’t know you’ that was offered to the Antonis Head of House, and presumably himself. The man might have sold himself into slavery to free his mother, but Cicero was tempted to arrange to have him returned to his former position as comeuppance for standing in the way of what could be the most vital conversation to happen in their kingdom for months.
With a long-suffering sigh that he stifled between closed lips, the master informer clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, his attention taken by the detailed cornicing as he let the Captain speak. Mainly so he would not lose his temper with this oaf who thought to blockade the way of a Head of House, a Master and a Physician. Sometimes he despaired of humanity.
However, for a man of his education, Sir Hector accounted for himself well enough, and the spymaster left him to it, save to shoot a brief, press-lipped smile at the guard when he was introduced, and to look blankly at Hector when he caught his eye after introducing the doctor. Athanos could hold his own, and sure enough the physician gave a slight nod and lifted his bag as if in testimony to his profession.
Ridiculous. Cicero wondered how attentive the guard had been when it was the foolish boy lord calling. Clearly not attentive enough if a betrothal had been arranged.
And his impatience showed when the Captain of the Royal Guard was forced to reiterate their allegiance. “We do serve the crown, my good sir” he added mildly, though his gaze was cool.
It was probably for the best then, that the guard - Cicero would make a point to look into him a little further - appeared to decide they were trustworthy and moved to open the door. Oh good.
Standing back to allow Lord Alehandros to proceed, Cicero motioned for the doctor to go ahead of him also, side-eyeing the soldier before he stepped forward himself, a predictably inscrutable expression upon his features as he prepared to greet their absentee princess.
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The gods must have arranged for every meeting that led to this point. Hector did not see himself as a smart man, and he was not a man who thought himself vital outside of a few roles in his life - as a father, as a captain. Fate had built up what tenuous rapport he had with the Princess' guard some weeks prior, and the reassurance of having seeing Princess Emilia after the chaos of the harvest festival solidified that.
At some point, later on, he might have a bit of a laugh at the image of Lord Alehandros and Master Cicero approaching only for Lesley to tell them 'I do not know you, go away'...but that would be some time from now, long after their business was done here.
Hector glanced sidelong at the Master Informer as he reassured Lesley of their loyalty. He could entirely understand the man's apprehension in all of this. After all, at any moment, one of the Stravos or their loyalists could pass through and have them tossed out a Palace window.
But, through the grace of the gods, Lesley admitted them entrance, and Hector exhaled deeply. One step closer.
They entered the room and immediately upon seeing Princess Emilia, Hector caught her smile, and it was infectious. He could not help but return one of his own briefly before it was hidden away as he bowed to her. When his eyes raised once again, he noted that overall she seemed well, her skin was not ashen or sallow, she had not drawn thin like many other Athenians, and she seemed unmarred by the violence of the night before. Thank the gods. However, he did notice the weariness that sat heavy beneath her eyes, and he could not help the pinpricks of concern beneath his skin. Had she 'truly' been sick?
When the dog snarled, his eyes snapped to it and then to the men, though is face did not turn away from the Xanthos royal. Particularly when it was clear that she addressed him, due to their familiarity as opposed to rank. His eyes glanced slightly to the Antonis lord, hoping that two slights in a row such as this would not breed any animosity, though with the issues they both faced - with injured and bedridden daughters and this present opportunity to hopefully change the course of the future - he doubted it would become so.
"Your Highness. Lord Alehandros, Master Cicero, and I have come to lend our support in our various ways," Hector started, knowing that more of the particulars would be addressed by those with formal titles and positions. "Particularly in these treacherous times." Hector paused a moment, still seeing the uncertainty in her eyes, a sight all too familiar to him, having had girls that age as well.
All that she had lost in such a short amount of time - father, sister, certainty - it was no wonder she sounded so world weary now. She needed support now more than ever, particularly in those she could trust.
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The gods must have arranged for every meeting that led to this point. Hector did not see himself as a smart man, and he was not a man who thought himself vital outside of a few roles in his life - as a father, as a captain. Fate had built up what tenuous rapport he had with the Princess' guard some weeks prior, and the reassurance of having seeing Princess Emilia after the chaos of the harvest festival solidified that.
At some point, later on, he might have a bit of a laugh at the image of Lord Alehandros and Master Cicero approaching only for Lesley to tell them 'I do not know you, go away'...but that would be some time from now, long after their business was done here.
Hector glanced sidelong at the Master Informer as he reassured Lesley of their loyalty. He could entirely understand the man's apprehension in all of this. After all, at any moment, one of the Stravos or their loyalists could pass through and have them tossed out a Palace window.
But, through the grace of the gods, Lesley admitted them entrance, and Hector exhaled deeply. One step closer.
They entered the room and immediately upon seeing Princess Emilia, Hector caught her smile, and it was infectious. He could not help but return one of his own briefly before it was hidden away as he bowed to her. When his eyes raised once again, he noted that overall she seemed well, her skin was not ashen or sallow, she had not drawn thin like many other Athenians, and she seemed unmarred by the violence of the night before. Thank the gods. However, he did notice the weariness that sat heavy beneath her eyes, and he could not help the pinpricks of concern beneath his skin. Had she 'truly' been sick?
When the dog snarled, his eyes snapped to it and then to the men, though is face did not turn away from the Xanthos royal. Particularly when it was clear that she addressed him, due to their familiarity as opposed to rank. His eyes glanced slightly to the Antonis lord, hoping that two slights in a row such as this would not breed any animosity, though with the issues they both faced - with injured and bedridden daughters and this present opportunity to hopefully change the course of the future - he doubted it would become so.
"Your Highness. Lord Alehandros, Master Cicero, and I have come to lend our support in our various ways," Hector started, knowing that more of the particulars would be addressed by those with formal titles and positions. "Particularly in these treacherous times." Hector paused a moment, still seeing the uncertainty in her eyes, a sight all too familiar to him, having had girls that age as well.
All that she had lost in such a short amount of time - father, sister, certainty - it was no wonder she sounded so world weary now. She needed support now more than ever, particularly in those she could trust.
The gods must have arranged for every meeting that led to this point. Hector did not see himself as a smart man, and he was not a man who thought himself vital outside of a few roles in his life - as a father, as a captain. Fate had built up what tenuous rapport he had with the Princess' guard some weeks prior, and the reassurance of having seeing Princess Emilia after the chaos of the harvest festival solidified that.
At some point, later on, he might have a bit of a laugh at the image of Lord Alehandros and Master Cicero approaching only for Lesley to tell them 'I do not know you, go away'...but that would be some time from now, long after their business was done here.
Hector glanced sidelong at the Master Informer as he reassured Lesley of their loyalty. He could entirely understand the man's apprehension in all of this. After all, at any moment, one of the Stravos or their loyalists could pass through and have them tossed out a Palace window.
But, through the grace of the gods, Lesley admitted them entrance, and Hector exhaled deeply. One step closer.
They entered the room and immediately upon seeing Princess Emilia, Hector caught her smile, and it was infectious. He could not help but return one of his own briefly before it was hidden away as he bowed to her. When his eyes raised once again, he noted that overall she seemed well, her skin was not ashen or sallow, she had not drawn thin like many other Athenians, and she seemed unmarred by the violence of the night before. Thank the gods. However, he did notice the weariness that sat heavy beneath her eyes, and he could not help the pinpricks of concern beneath his skin. Had she 'truly' been sick?
When the dog snarled, his eyes snapped to it and then to the men, though is face did not turn away from the Xanthos royal. Particularly when it was clear that she addressed him, due to their familiarity as opposed to rank. His eyes glanced slightly to the Antonis lord, hoping that two slights in a row such as this would not breed any animosity, though with the issues they both faced - with injured and bedridden daughters and this present opportunity to hopefully change the course of the future - he doubted it would become so.
"Your Highness. Lord Alehandros, Master Cicero, and I have come to lend our support in our various ways," Hector started, knowing that more of the particulars would be addressed by those with formal titles and positions. "Particularly in these treacherous times." Hector paused a moment, still seeing the uncertainty in her eyes, a sight all too familiar to him, having had girls that age as well.
All that she had lost in such a short amount of time - father, sister, certainty - it was no wonder she sounded so world weary now. She needed support now more than ever, particularly in those she could trust.
Alehandros did not care for the guard’s tone, but this was no time to pick fights. Well, no, that was not right. This was the time to pick fights- but the Princess’s guard was not one of them. As Cicero stated, they served the crown.
Alehandros’s mouth remained shut as he allowed the two other men to talk, and once allowed entrance to the Princess’s room Alehandros’s gaze swept it- as if almost expected Elias to slink in from the shadows with his poisoned control poised towards the crown. But no, it was the healthy Princess who spoke, though without her normal… pleasant tone. The Captain spoke next, pledging support.
Alehandros was not a man of politics. The Antonis were either monarchs (usually married off to another Kingdom, such as Queen Kaiti), or they were out of the political sphere all together. However, when the Antonis do involve themselves in politics it is always the same: With blunt honesty and no deception.
Perhaps this was why Alehandros spoke so directly to the Princess right here. He had no patience for the fluff around the issue, and would rather take his sword straight through the elephant in the room. “Your sister remains aloof, the man who claims to be your betrothed has his hands covered in the blood of Athenians- from commoners who die from starvation to nobles who got caught in riots. The law is clear, Princess Emilia. Your sister hides herself away, and Lord Elias” a man unworthy of even that title, “uses that, uses you to get what he feels is his.” Even though… it never truly was. Alehandros had meant to abdicate, but he had never had to. The throne was never Elias’s, not before it was Alehandros’s. The throne was never his.
“The Antonis pledge their support, both in their military strength and political expertise, to your reign. I’ve sent word to General Lacides to bring men in from the border, as many as he is able, and you have the full cooperation of all six of our provinces, provided that something be done about Lord Elias. No longer should that man be allowed to bring darkness to Athenia and her people.” Bold words, but Alehandros sought to make it clear exactly where the Antonis stand. No longer were they neutral, and no longer would they wait for a Queen in hiding. Athenia needs a leader, and by law it will be Emilia.
And the Antonis will not stand to see a Stravos on the throne of Athenia. Elias will never be King, not while the Antonis still have a say.
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Alehandros did not care for the guard’s tone, but this was no time to pick fights. Well, no, that was not right. This was the time to pick fights- but the Princess’s guard was not one of them. As Cicero stated, they served the crown.
Alehandros’s mouth remained shut as he allowed the two other men to talk, and once allowed entrance to the Princess’s room Alehandros’s gaze swept it- as if almost expected Elias to slink in from the shadows with his poisoned control poised towards the crown. But no, it was the healthy Princess who spoke, though without her normal… pleasant tone. The Captain spoke next, pledging support.
Alehandros was not a man of politics. The Antonis were either monarchs (usually married off to another Kingdom, such as Queen Kaiti), or they were out of the political sphere all together. However, when the Antonis do involve themselves in politics it is always the same: With blunt honesty and no deception.
Perhaps this was why Alehandros spoke so directly to the Princess right here. He had no patience for the fluff around the issue, and would rather take his sword straight through the elephant in the room. “Your sister remains aloof, the man who claims to be your betrothed has his hands covered in the blood of Athenians- from commoners who die from starvation to nobles who got caught in riots. The law is clear, Princess Emilia. Your sister hides herself away, and Lord Elias” a man unworthy of even that title, “uses that, uses you to get what he feels is his.” Even though… it never truly was. Alehandros had meant to abdicate, but he had never had to. The throne was never Elias’s, not before it was Alehandros’s. The throne was never his.
“The Antonis pledge their support, both in their military strength and political expertise, to your reign. I’ve sent word to General Lacides to bring men in from the border, as many as he is able, and you have the full cooperation of all six of our provinces, provided that something be done about Lord Elias. No longer should that man be allowed to bring darkness to Athenia and her people.” Bold words, but Alehandros sought to make it clear exactly where the Antonis stand. No longer were they neutral, and no longer would they wait for a Queen in hiding. Athenia needs a leader, and by law it will be Emilia.
And the Antonis will not stand to see a Stravos on the throne of Athenia. Elias will never be King, not while the Antonis still have a say.
Alehandros did not care for the guard’s tone, but this was no time to pick fights. Well, no, that was not right. This was the time to pick fights- but the Princess’s guard was not one of them. As Cicero stated, they served the crown.
Alehandros’s mouth remained shut as he allowed the two other men to talk, and once allowed entrance to the Princess’s room Alehandros’s gaze swept it- as if almost expected Elias to slink in from the shadows with his poisoned control poised towards the crown. But no, it was the healthy Princess who spoke, though without her normal… pleasant tone. The Captain spoke next, pledging support.
Alehandros was not a man of politics. The Antonis were either monarchs (usually married off to another Kingdom, such as Queen Kaiti), or they were out of the political sphere all together. However, when the Antonis do involve themselves in politics it is always the same: With blunt honesty and no deception.
Perhaps this was why Alehandros spoke so directly to the Princess right here. He had no patience for the fluff around the issue, and would rather take his sword straight through the elephant in the room. “Your sister remains aloof, the man who claims to be your betrothed has his hands covered in the blood of Athenians- from commoners who die from starvation to nobles who got caught in riots. The law is clear, Princess Emilia. Your sister hides herself away, and Lord Elias” a man unworthy of even that title, “uses that, uses you to get what he feels is his.” Even though… it never truly was. Alehandros had meant to abdicate, but he had never had to. The throne was never Elias’s, not before it was Alehandros’s. The throne was never his.
“The Antonis pledge their support, both in their military strength and political expertise, to your reign. I’ve sent word to General Lacides to bring men in from the border, as many as he is able, and you have the full cooperation of all six of our provinces, provided that something be done about Lord Elias. No longer should that man be allowed to bring darkness to Athenia and her people.” Bold words, but Alehandros sought to make it clear exactly where the Antonis stand. No longer were they neutral, and no longer would they wait for a Queen in hiding. Athenia needs a leader, and by law it will be Emilia.
And the Antonis will not stand to see a Stravos on the throne of Athenia. Elias will never be King, not while the Antonis still have a say.
Cicero had not had many dealings with the younger Xanthos girl, but as he swept into the room on the heels of the good physician, he found himself hoping against hope that she was not as much of a featherbrain as he’d been led to believe. Her elder sister had some intelligence about her; surely the younger would too?
Offering a low bow to the young Princess, he rose in time to give the barest lift of his brows at her question. Where to start, exactly.
It was the Captain that spoke first, and the girl at least seemed to relax a little at his words, Cicero did not miss the fact that she eyed him with a little less trust. Perhaps now was one of those times he ought to make himself more approachable, as Elysia kept telling him. He set his papers down on a side table and folded his hands in front of him instead of behind. That would do surely.
Lord Alehandros was quick to cut to the very heart of the matter, and the master informer observed the girl keenly as the Antonis Head of House made his declaration of support, but he did wonder if the Lord had gone too hard too fast. A lack of sublety, but then that was rather the way of their ilk. Direct, no matter what the cost. Cicero cleared his throat when the man finished speaking and attempted to couch the words in a gentler guise.
“We have all been most concerned for your wellbeing, your highness. That you have been so unwell as to be unable to attend court, and to act upon pressing matters of state in your sister’s absence. Are you much recovered? We took the liberty of inviting this good man along today - an outstanding physician, should you be in need.”
The spymaster motioned toward the doctor but did not pause for long. “ Of course if you are not in need, then that brings us to those matters which really must have your attention, Princess. You may not be familiar with me, but I can assure you I worked closely with your sister, and some things have been left undone whilst she has been gone. We, as your trusted and loyal subjects, come to offer our help in seeing you address such things.”
Before the country falls apart about our ears was what we left unsaid, though it hardly needed speaking. The Princess would have had to be a complete idiot not to have been shaken by the previous day's volatile events. Cicero hoped that whatever fear such events had provoked would be enough to cut through the wool in her head so she would hear them. He gestured towards the papers he had brought.
“If you will spare us the morning, highness, there is much we should discuss.”
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Cicero had not had many dealings with the younger Xanthos girl, but as he swept into the room on the heels of the good physician, he found himself hoping against hope that she was not as much of a featherbrain as he’d been led to believe. Her elder sister had some intelligence about her; surely the younger would too?
Offering a low bow to the young Princess, he rose in time to give the barest lift of his brows at her question. Where to start, exactly.
It was the Captain that spoke first, and the girl at least seemed to relax a little at his words, Cicero did not miss the fact that she eyed him with a little less trust. Perhaps now was one of those times he ought to make himself more approachable, as Elysia kept telling him. He set his papers down on a side table and folded his hands in front of him instead of behind. That would do surely.
Lord Alehandros was quick to cut to the very heart of the matter, and the master informer observed the girl keenly as the Antonis Head of House made his declaration of support, but he did wonder if the Lord had gone too hard too fast. A lack of sublety, but then that was rather the way of their ilk. Direct, no matter what the cost. Cicero cleared his throat when the man finished speaking and attempted to couch the words in a gentler guise.
“We have all been most concerned for your wellbeing, your highness. That you have been so unwell as to be unable to attend court, and to act upon pressing matters of state in your sister’s absence. Are you much recovered? We took the liberty of inviting this good man along today - an outstanding physician, should you be in need.”
The spymaster motioned toward the doctor but did not pause for long. “ Of course if you are not in need, then that brings us to those matters which really must have your attention, Princess. You may not be familiar with me, but I can assure you I worked closely with your sister, and some things have been left undone whilst she has been gone. We, as your trusted and loyal subjects, come to offer our help in seeing you address such things.”
Before the country falls apart about our ears was what we left unsaid, though it hardly needed speaking. The Princess would have had to be a complete idiot not to have been shaken by the previous day's volatile events. Cicero hoped that whatever fear such events had provoked would be enough to cut through the wool in her head so she would hear them. He gestured towards the papers he had brought.
“If you will spare us the morning, highness, there is much we should discuss.”
Cicero had not had many dealings with the younger Xanthos girl, but as he swept into the room on the heels of the good physician, he found himself hoping against hope that she was not as much of a featherbrain as he’d been led to believe. Her elder sister had some intelligence about her; surely the younger would too?
Offering a low bow to the young Princess, he rose in time to give the barest lift of his brows at her question. Where to start, exactly.
It was the Captain that spoke first, and the girl at least seemed to relax a little at his words, Cicero did not miss the fact that she eyed him with a little less trust. Perhaps now was one of those times he ought to make himself more approachable, as Elysia kept telling him. He set his papers down on a side table and folded his hands in front of him instead of behind. That would do surely.
Lord Alehandros was quick to cut to the very heart of the matter, and the master informer observed the girl keenly as the Antonis Head of House made his declaration of support, but he did wonder if the Lord had gone too hard too fast. A lack of sublety, but then that was rather the way of their ilk. Direct, no matter what the cost. Cicero cleared his throat when the man finished speaking and attempted to couch the words in a gentler guise.
“We have all been most concerned for your wellbeing, your highness. That you have been so unwell as to be unable to attend court, and to act upon pressing matters of state in your sister’s absence. Are you much recovered? We took the liberty of inviting this good man along today - an outstanding physician, should you be in need.”
The spymaster motioned toward the doctor but did not pause for long. “ Of course if you are not in need, then that brings us to those matters which really must have your attention, Princess. You may not be familiar with me, but I can assure you I worked closely with your sister, and some things have been left undone whilst she has been gone. We, as your trusted and loyal subjects, come to offer our help in seeing you address such things.”
Before the country falls apart about our ears was what we left unsaid, though it hardly needed speaking. The Princess would have had to be a complete idiot not to have been shaken by the previous day's volatile events. Cicero hoped that whatever fear such events had provoked would be enough to cut through the wool in her head so she would hear them. He gestured towards the papers he had brought.
“If you will spare us the morning, highness, there is much we should discuss.”
Lesley slipped over to stand beside the princess as the other men entered the room. Not as close as a brother or husband, not nearly, but not the step or two behind her he should have been among friends, either. Like the growling dog, he would willingly lay into whoever threatened the royal girl, and with as little care for political consequences. His motivations might be less noble, but there was little difference in the results.
Neither aggression nor defensiveness was the motivation for standing exactly where he did, however. He well knew Emilia's habit of double-checking his presence whenever she was nervous or off-balance. If he was already within her sight, she wouldn't have to show weakness by turning her head to find that reassurance. Whatever the particulars of what these men had come to say, Lesley knew what they were looking for, and could confidently guess at their reactions if they did or didn't find it. Normally, Les had a big enough chip on his shoulder to be amused whenever a noble ended up looking a fool, but the severity of yesterday's trouble - compounded by the fact he hadn't had the opportunity to check on his mother - had him honestly for once with no desire to make a tense situation worse. The fact he hadn't slept yet either made him paranoid and grumpy, but listening to the men speak had him convinced that, at the least, they were not here to enact a coup on Elias's behalf.
If Emilia couldn't rise to the occasion, there were other ways to remove the would-be king from the situation, but they were all... messy. Athenia had enough mess to clean up already. So, the gladiator stood quietly, ignoring the prickling feeling that he associated with going too long without a fight. He'd been so keyed up, and nothing had come of it, and if he didn't release the building pressure soon he was going to get distracted and fidgety and start making mistakes, and possibly punch the next person to startle him, except if he was still here it wasn't likely to be someone he could get away with hitting. He needed to go back home, find his focus again. There would probably be someone in those swept up by the guards who'd find themselves tossed into the arena in punishment, right? Maybe the council would finally ratify that accusation of treachery that had been left at Elias's feet before the old King's death. Probably not. Pity, he had such a downright punchable face.
Lesley realized his thoughts had drifted, and tried to bring them back. He rubbed his thumb along the smooth wood of his spear and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, determinedly fighting off the urge to pace, to fidget, anything. Why, o gods, had he ever accepted a job that regularly required standing still?
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Lesley slipped over to stand beside the princess as the other men entered the room. Not as close as a brother or husband, not nearly, but not the step or two behind her he should have been among friends, either. Like the growling dog, he would willingly lay into whoever threatened the royal girl, and with as little care for political consequences. His motivations might be less noble, but there was little difference in the results.
Neither aggression nor defensiveness was the motivation for standing exactly where he did, however. He well knew Emilia's habit of double-checking his presence whenever she was nervous or off-balance. If he was already within her sight, she wouldn't have to show weakness by turning her head to find that reassurance. Whatever the particulars of what these men had come to say, Lesley knew what they were looking for, and could confidently guess at their reactions if they did or didn't find it. Normally, Les had a big enough chip on his shoulder to be amused whenever a noble ended up looking a fool, but the severity of yesterday's trouble - compounded by the fact he hadn't had the opportunity to check on his mother - had him honestly for once with no desire to make a tense situation worse. The fact he hadn't slept yet either made him paranoid and grumpy, but listening to the men speak had him convinced that, at the least, they were not here to enact a coup on Elias's behalf.
If Emilia couldn't rise to the occasion, there were other ways to remove the would-be king from the situation, but they were all... messy. Athenia had enough mess to clean up already. So, the gladiator stood quietly, ignoring the prickling feeling that he associated with going too long without a fight. He'd been so keyed up, and nothing had come of it, and if he didn't release the building pressure soon he was going to get distracted and fidgety and start making mistakes, and possibly punch the next person to startle him, except if he was still here it wasn't likely to be someone he could get away with hitting. He needed to go back home, find his focus again. There would probably be someone in those swept up by the guards who'd find themselves tossed into the arena in punishment, right? Maybe the council would finally ratify that accusation of treachery that had been left at Elias's feet before the old King's death. Probably not. Pity, he had such a downright punchable face.
Lesley realized his thoughts had drifted, and tried to bring them back. He rubbed his thumb along the smooth wood of his spear and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, determinedly fighting off the urge to pace, to fidget, anything. Why, o gods, had he ever accepted a job that regularly required standing still?
Lesley slipped over to stand beside the princess as the other men entered the room. Not as close as a brother or husband, not nearly, but not the step or two behind her he should have been among friends, either. Like the growling dog, he would willingly lay into whoever threatened the royal girl, and with as little care for political consequences. His motivations might be less noble, but there was little difference in the results.
Neither aggression nor defensiveness was the motivation for standing exactly where he did, however. He well knew Emilia's habit of double-checking his presence whenever she was nervous or off-balance. If he was already within her sight, she wouldn't have to show weakness by turning her head to find that reassurance. Whatever the particulars of what these men had come to say, Lesley knew what they were looking for, and could confidently guess at their reactions if they did or didn't find it. Normally, Les had a big enough chip on his shoulder to be amused whenever a noble ended up looking a fool, but the severity of yesterday's trouble - compounded by the fact he hadn't had the opportunity to check on his mother - had him honestly for once with no desire to make a tense situation worse. The fact he hadn't slept yet either made him paranoid and grumpy, but listening to the men speak had him convinced that, at the least, they were not here to enact a coup on Elias's behalf.
If Emilia couldn't rise to the occasion, there were other ways to remove the would-be king from the situation, but they were all... messy. Athenia had enough mess to clean up already. So, the gladiator stood quietly, ignoring the prickling feeling that he associated with going too long without a fight. He'd been so keyed up, and nothing had come of it, and if he didn't release the building pressure soon he was going to get distracted and fidgety and start making mistakes, and possibly punch the next person to startle him, except if he was still here it wasn't likely to be someone he could get away with hitting. He needed to go back home, find his focus again. There would probably be someone in those swept up by the guards who'd find themselves tossed into the arena in punishment, right? Maybe the council would finally ratify that accusation of treachery that had been left at Elias's feet before the old King's death. Probably not. Pity, he had such a downright punchable face.
Lesley realized his thoughts had drifted, and tried to bring them back. He rubbed his thumb along the smooth wood of his spear and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, determinedly fighting off the urge to pace, to fidget, anything. Why, o gods, had he ever accepted a job that regularly required standing still?
