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Lesley caught Lord Pavlos's eye as he scanned the room, just a brief moment, but he recognized that particular flash of recognition and exasperation. That particular lord knew him better than most people, and had more reason than most to jump straight to the conclusion that he was going to do something stupid and uncalled for, but Lesley forced himself to relax. There were others in this room who were uncannily astute, and he didn't need to be broadcasting any tells at all.
"Captain," Lesley acknowledged Hector's arrival politely, with no indication of nerves or any hint that he was here for anything except the obvious. "Do you expect any trouble tonight?" Other than the expected, obviously. To be entirely fair, they weren't planning to cause trouble. Just make an arrest. Of someone who really was unlikely to go with them quietly. Though, he wasn't sure that Elias would fight. He was likely to do quite a bit of yelling, though.
No, the problem was that the Stravos's had stacked the palace guard with Lyncestian soldiers. Well, Hector had been playing that game longer, and with better excuses. Lesley scanned the room again, making note of the positions of the guards he knew were loyal to each side, and the ones he wasn't sure about. Nearly all the Lords in the room had some military experience, and Lesley made note of which ones moved with the bearing of someone still prepared to fight at a moment's notice, and which had let themselves go soft. Given the odds, most men's dislike of fighting people they had known and worked with for long, and the chances of even those being directly paid by Circenia still respecting the Xanthos dinastea as the current Royal house... it probably wouldn't erupt into mass violence.
Dima was probably wondering which god had spirited Lesley away and replaced him with an imposter. Or maybe some twin had recently arrived from his homeland? He met his friend's eyes, read the anger in them, and twitched his lip slightly. "D'you want Elias or Rafail?" he asked in an undertone.
Ah, there was the old bloodthirsty Lesley, carefully concealed beneath the guard's uniform he wore a good deal more comfortably than his friend. He'd had more time to get used to it, but even beyond that, utter confidence had always been a hallmark of his character, whether the possible repercussions of his actions were loosing a fight or getting into trouble.
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Lesley caught Lord Pavlos's eye as he scanned the room, just a brief moment, but he recognized that particular flash of recognition and exasperation. That particular lord knew him better than most people, and had more reason than most to jump straight to the conclusion that he was going to do something stupid and uncalled for, but Lesley forced himself to relax. There were others in this room who were uncannily astute, and he didn't need to be broadcasting any tells at all.
"Captain," Lesley acknowledged Hector's arrival politely, with no indication of nerves or any hint that he was here for anything except the obvious. "Do you expect any trouble tonight?" Other than the expected, obviously. To be entirely fair, they weren't planning to cause trouble. Just make an arrest. Of someone who really was unlikely to go with them quietly. Though, he wasn't sure that Elias would fight. He was likely to do quite a bit of yelling, though.
No, the problem was that the Stravos's had stacked the palace guard with Lyncestian soldiers. Well, Hector had been playing that game longer, and with better excuses. Lesley scanned the room again, making note of the positions of the guards he knew were loyal to each side, and the ones he wasn't sure about. Nearly all the Lords in the room had some military experience, and Lesley made note of which ones moved with the bearing of someone still prepared to fight at a moment's notice, and which had let themselves go soft. Given the odds, most men's dislike of fighting people they had known and worked with for long, and the chances of even those being directly paid by Circenia still respecting the Xanthos dinastea as the current Royal house... it probably wouldn't erupt into mass violence.
Dima was probably wondering which god had spirited Lesley away and replaced him with an imposter. Or maybe some twin had recently arrived from his homeland? He met his friend's eyes, read the anger in them, and twitched his lip slightly. "D'you want Elias or Rafail?" he asked in an undertone.
Ah, there was the old bloodthirsty Lesley, carefully concealed beneath the guard's uniform he wore a good deal more comfortably than his friend. He'd had more time to get used to it, but even beyond that, utter confidence had always been a hallmark of his character, whether the possible repercussions of his actions were loosing a fight or getting into trouble.
Lesley caught Lord Pavlos's eye as he scanned the room, just a brief moment, but he recognized that particular flash of recognition and exasperation. That particular lord knew him better than most people, and had more reason than most to jump straight to the conclusion that he was going to do something stupid and uncalled for, but Lesley forced himself to relax. There were others in this room who were uncannily astute, and he didn't need to be broadcasting any tells at all.
"Captain," Lesley acknowledged Hector's arrival politely, with no indication of nerves or any hint that he was here for anything except the obvious. "Do you expect any trouble tonight?" Other than the expected, obviously. To be entirely fair, they weren't planning to cause trouble. Just make an arrest. Of someone who really was unlikely to go with them quietly. Though, he wasn't sure that Elias would fight. He was likely to do quite a bit of yelling, though.
No, the problem was that the Stravos's had stacked the palace guard with Lyncestian soldiers. Well, Hector had been playing that game longer, and with better excuses. Lesley scanned the room again, making note of the positions of the guards he knew were loyal to each side, and the ones he wasn't sure about. Nearly all the Lords in the room had some military experience, and Lesley made note of which ones moved with the bearing of someone still prepared to fight at a moment's notice, and which had let themselves go soft. Given the odds, most men's dislike of fighting people they had known and worked with for long, and the chances of even those being directly paid by Circenia still respecting the Xanthos dinastea as the current Royal house... it probably wouldn't erupt into mass violence.
Dima was probably wondering which god had spirited Lesley away and replaced him with an imposter. Or maybe some twin had recently arrived from his homeland? He met his friend's eyes, read the anger in them, and twitched his lip slightly. "D'you want Elias or Rafail?" he asked in an undertone.
Ah, there was the old bloodthirsty Lesley, carefully concealed beneath the guard's uniform he wore a good deal more comfortably than his friend. He'd had more time to get used to it, but even beyond that, utter confidence had always been a hallmark of his character, whether the possible repercussions of his actions were loosing a fight or getting into trouble.
These past few weeks had been the toughest of Ariadne’s life. Physically, she had been pushed to the brink, but her toughest challenge was her mental state. She struggled with forgetfulness, a lack of focus, and an overwhelming sense of despair that she couldn’t quite shake. Of course, she hadn’t told a single soul that, though she was sure that her change in personality wasn’t hard to discover for those who knew her. Ariadne was usually so cheerful, but these days even smiling felt difficult. She pushed through, pretending for the sake of her loved ones that she was fine. They had enough to worry about with her adding to their plates. So, she pretended.
She was pretending about attending this event more than anything. Truthfully, Ari wanted to remain home, but when Marietta asked her if she would join, the girl found she couldn’t say no. The two of them had struck up a cautious friendship these past few weeks, each recovering from their ordeals at the Antonis home. Once they were both able to move from their beds, they would often find each other in the gardens, stopping to rest for longer than should have been necessary for girls of their age. Of course, most girls their age weren’t in comas or bedridden with a head injury. While resting, they would often talk about random things, getting to know each other. Ari felt a certain comfort with Marietta akin to what she used to feel with Persephone. After the riots and the events of the past few months, Ari wasn’t sure she would ever feel such an ease with the former princess again. She still loved her friend, but she didn’t think their friendship would ever be the same again.
It was a mix of several things that drove Ariadne to attend the event today with Marietta. Her budding friendship with the young woman, feeling as though she owed the household that had housed them something, and checking on all of her friends in the palati. It had been difficult not knowing what had happened to many of them after the riots. She followed Marietta inside, both moving slowly, getting over their injuries. Her sides burned slightly—this was the most movement she’d had in awhile. Her ribs were healing where they had cracked in the fall. The pain was a good distraction from the greater headache she was suffering. It had come and gone in these past weeks and today it was back, unfortunately. Their ride to the palati hadn’t helped any. In fact, when they arrived inside, Ariadne excused herself with the excuse of wanting to check in on her friends. Instead, she snuck off to the nearest privy and vomited, the nausea overcoming her. These days she was expelling more than she was eating. After weeks, she still felt nauseous.
Ariadne took a few minutes to steady and clean up after herself, hoping that it wouldn’t be too obvious that she’d been sick. She tried to hide it, but was sure her friends suspected. If Ismene had been there, her twin would have forced her to eat to make up for it. Her face a little paler, betraying her illness, Ariadne moved through the halls towards the main room where everyone was congregating to see Emilia. Ari’s heart went out to the young princess, knowing how lost she must feel. This was nothing she had ever expected. It was nothing any of them had ever expected.
Entering the room, Ariadne looked around, searching for Marietta. She saw the young woman, surrounded by her sister and a few others. Ari would join her shortly, but didn’t want to intrude. She wasn’t ready for such conversations, though she would be in the background here. However, her eyes spotted Adrestus with his sister, who Ari hadn’t ever properly met. She found herself wandering in their direction, seeking the familiar comfort of Adre. He’d spent a lot of time at her side the past few weeks and she found that she really enjoyed his company. When he left, she found she was looking forward to his next visit.
“Hello, Adre,” she said quietly, approaching the pair. She gave him a true smile, glad he was here as well. “You must be Lady Dione,” Ari greeted the other woman, glad that his sister’s name came to mind. Her memory could not always be trusted these days. “I am Ariadne of Arcana,” she introduced herself. “I apologize, curtseys are a bit painful for me right now.” The last thing she wanted to do was appear rude, though she wasn’t exactly keen to let known her injuries either. “It’s lovely to meet you. Lord Adrestus has told me much about you.”
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These past few weeks had been the toughest of Ariadne’s life. Physically, she had been pushed to the brink, but her toughest challenge was her mental state. She struggled with forgetfulness, a lack of focus, and an overwhelming sense of despair that she couldn’t quite shake. Of course, she hadn’t told a single soul that, though she was sure that her change in personality wasn’t hard to discover for those who knew her. Ariadne was usually so cheerful, but these days even smiling felt difficult. She pushed through, pretending for the sake of her loved ones that she was fine. They had enough to worry about with her adding to their plates. So, she pretended.
She was pretending about attending this event more than anything. Truthfully, Ari wanted to remain home, but when Marietta asked her if she would join, the girl found she couldn’t say no. The two of them had struck up a cautious friendship these past few weeks, each recovering from their ordeals at the Antonis home. Once they were both able to move from their beds, they would often find each other in the gardens, stopping to rest for longer than should have been necessary for girls of their age. Of course, most girls their age weren’t in comas or bedridden with a head injury. While resting, they would often talk about random things, getting to know each other. Ari felt a certain comfort with Marietta akin to what she used to feel with Persephone. After the riots and the events of the past few months, Ari wasn’t sure she would ever feel such an ease with the former princess again. She still loved her friend, but she didn’t think their friendship would ever be the same again.
It was a mix of several things that drove Ariadne to attend the event today with Marietta. Her budding friendship with the young woman, feeling as though she owed the household that had housed them something, and checking on all of her friends in the palati. It had been difficult not knowing what had happened to many of them after the riots. She followed Marietta inside, both moving slowly, getting over their injuries. Her sides burned slightly—this was the most movement she’d had in awhile. Her ribs were healing where they had cracked in the fall. The pain was a good distraction from the greater headache she was suffering. It had come and gone in these past weeks and today it was back, unfortunately. Their ride to the palati hadn’t helped any. In fact, when they arrived inside, Ariadne excused herself with the excuse of wanting to check in on her friends. Instead, she snuck off to the nearest privy and vomited, the nausea overcoming her. These days she was expelling more than she was eating. After weeks, she still felt nauseous.
Ariadne took a few minutes to steady and clean up after herself, hoping that it wouldn’t be too obvious that she’d been sick. She tried to hide it, but was sure her friends suspected. If Ismene had been there, her twin would have forced her to eat to make up for it. Her face a little paler, betraying her illness, Ariadne moved through the halls towards the main room where everyone was congregating to see Emilia. Ari’s heart went out to the young princess, knowing how lost she must feel. This was nothing she had ever expected. It was nothing any of them had ever expected.
Entering the room, Ariadne looked around, searching for Marietta. She saw the young woman, surrounded by her sister and a few others. Ari would join her shortly, but didn’t want to intrude. She wasn’t ready for such conversations, though she would be in the background here. However, her eyes spotted Adrestus with his sister, who Ari hadn’t ever properly met. She found herself wandering in their direction, seeking the familiar comfort of Adre. He’d spent a lot of time at her side the past few weeks and she found that she really enjoyed his company. When he left, she found she was looking forward to his next visit.
“Hello, Adre,” she said quietly, approaching the pair. She gave him a true smile, glad he was here as well. “You must be Lady Dione,” Ari greeted the other woman, glad that his sister’s name came to mind. Her memory could not always be trusted these days. “I am Ariadne of Arcana,” she introduced herself. “I apologize, curtseys are a bit painful for me right now.” The last thing she wanted to do was appear rude, though she wasn’t exactly keen to let known her injuries either. “It’s lovely to meet you. Lord Adrestus has told me much about you.”
These past few weeks had been the toughest of Ariadne’s life. Physically, she had been pushed to the brink, but her toughest challenge was her mental state. She struggled with forgetfulness, a lack of focus, and an overwhelming sense of despair that she couldn’t quite shake. Of course, she hadn’t told a single soul that, though she was sure that her change in personality wasn’t hard to discover for those who knew her. Ariadne was usually so cheerful, but these days even smiling felt difficult. She pushed through, pretending for the sake of her loved ones that she was fine. They had enough to worry about with her adding to their plates. So, she pretended.
She was pretending about attending this event more than anything. Truthfully, Ari wanted to remain home, but when Marietta asked her if she would join, the girl found she couldn’t say no. The two of them had struck up a cautious friendship these past few weeks, each recovering from their ordeals at the Antonis home. Once they were both able to move from their beds, they would often find each other in the gardens, stopping to rest for longer than should have been necessary for girls of their age. Of course, most girls their age weren’t in comas or bedridden with a head injury. While resting, they would often talk about random things, getting to know each other. Ari felt a certain comfort with Marietta akin to what she used to feel with Persephone. After the riots and the events of the past few months, Ari wasn’t sure she would ever feel such an ease with the former princess again. She still loved her friend, but she didn’t think their friendship would ever be the same again.
It was a mix of several things that drove Ariadne to attend the event today with Marietta. Her budding friendship with the young woman, feeling as though she owed the household that had housed them something, and checking on all of her friends in the palati. It had been difficult not knowing what had happened to many of them after the riots. She followed Marietta inside, both moving slowly, getting over their injuries. Her sides burned slightly—this was the most movement she’d had in awhile. Her ribs were healing where they had cracked in the fall. The pain was a good distraction from the greater headache she was suffering. It had come and gone in these past weeks and today it was back, unfortunately. Their ride to the palati hadn’t helped any. In fact, when they arrived inside, Ariadne excused herself with the excuse of wanting to check in on her friends. Instead, she snuck off to the nearest privy and vomited, the nausea overcoming her. These days she was expelling more than she was eating. After weeks, she still felt nauseous.
Ariadne took a few minutes to steady and clean up after herself, hoping that it wouldn’t be too obvious that she’d been sick. She tried to hide it, but was sure her friends suspected. If Ismene had been there, her twin would have forced her to eat to make up for it. Her face a little paler, betraying her illness, Ariadne moved through the halls towards the main room where everyone was congregating to see Emilia. Ari’s heart went out to the young princess, knowing how lost she must feel. This was nothing she had ever expected. It was nothing any of them had ever expected.
Entering the room, Ariadne looked around, searching for Marietta. She saw the young woman, surrounded by her sister and a few others. Ari would join her shortly, but didn’t want to intrude. She wasn’t ready for such conversations, though she would be in the background here. However, her eyes spotted Adrestus with his sister, who Ari hadn’t ever properly met. She found herself wandering in their direction, seeking the familiar comfort of Adre. He’d spent a lot of time at her side the past few weeks and she found that she really enjoyed his company. When he left, she found she was looking forward to his next visit.
“Hello, Adre,” she said quietly, approaching the pair. She gave him a true smile, glad he was here as well. “You must be Lady Dione,” Ari greeted the other woman, glad that his sister’s name came to mind. Her memory could not always be trusted these days. “I am Ariadne of Arcana,” she introduced herself. “I apologize, curtseys are a bit painful for me right now.” The last thing she wanted to do was appear rude, though she wasn’t exactly keen to let known her injuries either. “It’s lovely to meet you. Lord Adrestus has told me much about you.”
Iris held to her husband's arm, not anxious about being seen in public, but anxious about what the day would bring. Did she show it on her features? Absolutely not. But the fact that Cicero and her husband had been able to rouse the Princess from her silent exile was a miracle. For so long, it had seemed as if Princess Emilia wasn't going to do anything at all but sit and remain a pretty statue to her people. And with many different poorly-made decisions, Iris found herself looking to Emilia far more than she looked back to Queen Persephone.
The Queen was the entire reason that Aetaea had burned, and Iris was willing to put most, if not all, of the blame on Persephone. Had no one seen her at the Harvest Festival, as Iris had advised she remain away from it when asked her opinion, then Aetaea would still be standing strong. It would not be ash. But not only had the Queen impressed herself upon Iris' company, abusing their friendship, but she'd also not taken heed. She had not considered Iris' own people and their livelihood when Iris had asked her to.
If anything, the baroness was angry that so many questions had been asked of her opinion and none of them had been considered at all. She had not heard from Persephone, and she had not made any headway whatsoever on Persephone's request to sway people to her side. Because Iris had decided that she would not do such a thing... It was not what was best for the Kingdom. Throwing it into continued turmoil because two people would not relent.
It was time for Princess Emilia to stand, and that was the truth of it.
Having loaned one of her gowns to Elysia, Iris had opted for the deep green and silver chiton and himation for this court session. It brought out the green in her eyes and made her dark brown curls just a little lighter. She wore her mother's necklace and a few other pieces of silver jewelry, including her silver bow fibulae. Her hair had been done up, a few loose curls hanging around her neck and throat, with flowers weaved into the style.
She and Aimias entered into the Grand Hall, and the two of them turned silently toward Princess Emilia. Standing before her for but a few moments, Iris dropped into a low bow, "It pleases me to see you well, your highness," Iris said gently, keeping her gaze entirely off of Lord Elias. He was also to blame in all of this, but her anger had to stop here. Truly. If there was to be any peace at all. That didn't stop her wishing that the man would pay reparations for the harm he had caused her lands and the tireless efforts it would now take to cultivate them once more.
Then Iris was excusing herself from her husband's side and gliding off into the crowd, seeking out anyone other than her husband or family members to speak with. Her gaze landed on Lady Dione and she straightened up, swallowing her nerves a little and approaching quietly. "Lady Dione," she greeted softly, giving her a quiet smile. "You look well."
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Iris held to her husband's arm, not anxious about being seen in public, but anxious about what the day would bring. Did she show it on her features? Absolutely not. But the fact that Cicero and her husband had been able to rouse the Princess from her silent exile was a miracle. For so long, it had seemed as if Princess Emilia wasn't going to do anything at all but sit and remain a pretty statue to her people. And with many different poorly-made decisions, Iris found herself looking to Emilia far more than she looked back to Queen Persephone.
The Queen was the entire reason that Aetaea had burned, and Iris was willing to put most, if not all, of the blame on Persephone. Had no one seen her at the Harvest Festival, as Iris had advised she remain away from it when asked her opinion, then Aetaea would still be standing strong. It would not be ash. But not only had the Queen impressed herself upon Iris' company, abusing their friendship, but she'd also not taken heed. She had not considered Iris' own people and their livelihood when Iris had asked her to.
If anything, the baroness was angry that so many questions had been asked of her opinion and none of them had been considered at all. She had not heard from Persephone, and she had not made any headway whatsoever on Persephone's request to sway people to her side. Because Iris had decided that she would not do such a thing... It was not what was best for the Kingdom. Throwing it into continued turmoil because two people would not relent.
It was time for Princess Emilia to stand, and that was the truth of it.
Having loaned one of her gowns to Elysia, Iris had opted for the deep green and silver chiton and himation for this court session. It brought out the green in her eyes and made her dark brown curls just a little lighter. She wore her mother's necklace and a few other pieces of silver jewelry, including her silver bow fibulae. Her hair had been done up, a few loose curls hanging around her neck and throat, with flowers weaved into the style.
She and Aimias entered into the Grand Hall, and the two of them turned silently toward Princess Emilia. Standing before her for but a few moments, Iris dropped into a low bow, "It pleases me to see you well, your highness," Iris said gently, keeping her gaze entirely off of Lord Elias. He was also to blame in all of this, but her anger had to stop here. Truly. If there was to be any peace at all. That didn't stop her wishing that the man would pay reparations for the harm he had caused her lands and the tireless efforts it would now take to cultivate them once more.
Then Iris was excusing herself from her husband's side and gliding off into the crowd, seeking out anyone other than her husband or family members to speak with. Her gaze landed on Lady Dione and she straightened up, swallowing her nerves a little and approaching quietly. "Lady Dione," she greeted softly, giving her a quiet smile. "You look well."
Iris held to her husband's arm, not anxious about being seen in public, but anxious about what the day would bring. Did she show it on her features? Absolutely not. But the fact that Cicero and her husband had been able to rouse the Princess from her silent exile was a miracle. For so long, it had seemed as if Princess Emilia wasn't going to do anything at all but sit and remain a pretty statue to her people. And with many different poorly-made decisions, Iris found herself looking to Emilia far more than she looked back to Queen Persephone.
The Queen was the entire reason that Aetaea had burned, and Iris was willing to put most, if not all, of the blame on Persephone. Had no one seen her at the Harvest Festival, as Iris had advised she remain away from it when asked her opinion, then Aetaea would still be standing strong. It would not be ash. But not only had the Queen impressed herself upon Iris' company, abusing their friendship, but she'd also not taken heed. She had not considered Iris' own people and their livelihood when Iris had asked her to.
If anything, the baroness was angry that so many questions had been asked of her opinion and none of them had been considered at all. She had not heard from Persephone, and she had not made any headway whatsoever on Persephone's request to sway people to her side. Because Iris had decided that she would not do such a thing... It was not what was best for the Kingdom. Throwing it into continued turmoil because two people would not relent.
It was time for Princess Emilia to stand, and that was the truth of it.
Having loaned one of her gowns to Elysia, Iris had opted for the deep green and silver chiton and himation for this court session. It brought out the green in her eyes and made her dark brown curls just a little lighter. She wore her mother's necklace and a few other pieces of silver jewelry, including her silver bow fibulae. Her hair had been done up, a few loose curls hanging around her neck and throat, with flowers weaved into the style.
She and Aimias entered into the Grand Hall, and the two of them turned silently toward Princess Emilia. Standing before her for but a few moments, Iris dropped into a low bow, "It pleases me to see you well, your highness," Iris said gently, keeping her gaze entirely off of Lord Elias. He was also to blame in all of this, but her anger had to stop here. Truly. If there was to be any peace at all. That didn't stop her wishing that the man would pay reparations for the harm he had caused her lands and the tireless efforts it would now take to cultivate them once more.
Then Iris was excusing herself from her husband's side and gliding off into the crowd, seeking out anyone other than her husband or family members to speak with. Her gaze landed on Lady Dione and she straightened up, swallowing her nerves a little and approaching quietly. "Lady Dione," she greeted softly, giving her a quiet smile. "You look well."
The bright side about court was that Marietta was well-practiced in the art of being invisible. She can stay to the side and not have to talk to anyone. It was terribly boring, but now without Elias to save her from that horrible time well… it’d be best to remain out of everyone’s peripherals and just be out of the house for once.
My lady. I’m so very relieved to see you’re all right.
Shit.
Like a bloodhound sniffing its victim, Elysia rounded the corner with eyes set on Marietta. Even if Marietta could run it was far too late. Elysia was inescapable anyway. The woman had this way of sinking her claws into someone and never letting go. Already Marietta felt more frozen place than she ever did before, in fear of the conversation that was to ensue.
That was until Elysia touched her.
Marietta looked at her hand and instinctively recoiled back. The touch didn’t hurt. The injuries to that arm was not near as bad as the rest of her body and had healed considerably in the month since the events. But even before that night, Marietta hadn’t liked being touch. It was uncomfortable. She was okay with touching her siblings, smoothing their hair or fixing their clothes as they wrinkled over themselves. But Marietta felt like when someone else touched her without her distinct permission it was like… crawling under her skin. It was awful.
But now it was so much worse. She felt fear well in side her only to immediately be pushed back down. She had to remain calm. Elysia didn’t harm her. She was just asking her if she was alright. There’s nothing bad about it at all. Elysia was a good person. (Well… so were the people in the riots, until they were driven to violence…)
Luckily, Evi rounded the next corner and saved Marietta from making more of a fool of herself, speaking up so Marietta could take the chance to take a breath. Immediately Evi came up with a more eloquent question than Marietta would have been able to with the half a second she had to think. Frankly- Marietta might have forgotten Elysia had children even with her mentioning nannies.
Relax. Everything is okay. Just breathe.
Marietta’s eyes glided the room again, falling on Hector of Arcana as he passed the ladies. Her heart skipped a beat. He’s here. The man who saved her life twice now. She’s fine, because Hector is here.
She’s not in any danger.
Marietta looked back at Elysia and finally, she smiled, “I’m so sorry about your home, and don’t worry about the flowers. I was given so many that I fear all the gardens in Athenia are now barren.” A small pink tinge colored her cheeks, but it was much better than before. Instinctively, Marietta moved slightly closer to Evi, moving mere millimeters in front of her, her body’s subconscious way of guarding her.
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The bright side about court was that Marietta was well-practiced in the art of being invisible. She can stay to the side and not have to talk to anyone. It was terribly boring, but now without Elias to save her from that horrible time well… it’d be best to remain out of everyone’s peripherals and just be out of the house for once.
My lady. I’m so very relieved to see you’re all right.
Shit.
Like a bloodhound sniffing its victim, Elysia rounded the corner with eyes set on Marietta. Even if Marietta could run it was far too late. Elysia was inescapable anyway. The woman had this way of sinking her claws into someone and never letting go. Already Marietta felt more frozen place than she ever did before, in fear of the conversation that was to ensue.
That was until Elysia touched her.
Marietta looked at her hand and instinctively recoiled back. The touch didn’t hurt. The injuries to that arm was not near as bad as the rest of her body and had healed considerably in the month since the events. But even before that night, Marietta hadn’t liked being touch. It was uncomfortable. She was okay with touching her siblings, smoothing their hair or fixing their clothes as they wrinkled over themselves. But Marietta felt like when someone else touched her without her distinct permission it was like… crawling under her skin. It was awful.
But now it was so much worse. She felt fear well in side her only to immediately be pushed back down. She had to remain calm. Elysia didn’t harm her. She was just asking her if she was alright. There’s nothing bad about it at all. Elysia was a good person. (Well… so were the people in the riots, until they were driven to violence…)
Luckily, Evi rounded the next corner and saved Marietta from making more of a fool of herself, speaking up so Marietta could take the chance to take a breath. Immediately Evi came up with a more eloquent question than Marietta would have been able to with the half a second she had to think. Frankly- Marietta might have forgotten Elysia had children even with her mentioning nannies.
Relax. Everything is okay. Just breathe.
Marietta’s eyes glided the room again, falling on Hector of Arcana as he passed the ladies. Her heart skipped a beat. He’s here. The man who saved her life twice now. She’s fine, because Hector is here.
She’s not in any danger.
Marietta looked back at Elysia and finally, she smiled, “I’m so sorry about your home, and don’t worry about the flowers. I was given so many that I fear all the gardens in Athenia are now barren.” A small pink tinge colored her cheeks, but it was much better than before. Instinctively, Marietta moved slightly closer to Evi, moving mere millimeters in front of her, her body’s subconscious way of guarding her.
The bright side about court was that Marietta was well-practiced in the art of being invisible. She can stay to the side and not have to talk to anyone. It was terribly boring, but now without Elias to save her from that horrible time well… it’d be best to remain out of everyone’s peripherals and just be out of the house for once.
My lady. I’m so very relieved to see you’re all right.
Shit.
Like a bloodhound sniffing its victim, Elysia rounded the corner with eyes set on Marietta. Even if Marietta could run it was far too late. Elysia was inescapable anyway. The woman had this way of sinking her claws into someone and never letting go. Already Marietta felt more frozen place than she ever did before, in fear of the conversation that was to ensue.
That was until Elysia touched her.
Marietta looked at her hand and instinctively recoiled back. The touch didn’t hurt. The injuries to that arm was not near as bad as the rest of her body and had healed considerably in the month since the events. But even before that night, Marietta hadn’t liked being touch. It was uncomfortable. She was okay with touching her siblings, smoothing their hair or fixing their clothes as they wrinkled over themselves. But Marietta felt like when someone else touched her without her distinct permission it was like… crawling under her skin. It was awful.
But now it was so much worse. She felt fear well in side her only to immediately be pushed back down. She had to remain calm. Elysia didn’t harm her. She was just asking her if she was alright. There’s nothing bad about it at all. Elysia was a good person. (Well… so were the people in the riots, until they were driven to violence…)
Luckily, Evi rounded the next corner and saved Marietta from making more of a fool of herself, speaking up so Marietta could take the chance to take a breath. Immediately Evi came up with a more eloquent question than Marietta would have been able to with the half a second she had to think. Frankly- Marietta might have forgotten Elysia had children even with her mentioning nannies.
Relax. Everything is okay. Just breathe.
Marietta’s eyes glided the room again, falling on Hector of Arcana as he passed the ladies. Her heart skipped a beat. He’s here. The man who saved her life twice now. She’s fine, because Hector is here.
She’s not in any danger.
Marietta looked back at Elysia and finally, she smiled, “I’m so sorry about your home, and don’t worry about the flowers. I was given so many that I fear all the gardens in Athenia are now barren.” A small pink tinge colored her cheeks, but it was much better than before. Instinctively, Marietta moved slightly closer to Evi, moving mere millimeters in front of her, her body’s subconscious way of guarding her.
From the moment he'd stepped into sunlight again after the time spent in the flyaki, Dima had not been able to settle his nerves. Without any definitive knowledge of Olena save that she was safe and well, if far from here, he'd been left in an uncertain agony. Chrysanthe had been a helping hand, keeping him calm and reminding him that this would be settled soon. Everyone was being kind, offering him space, clean clothes, food and as much water as he could drink in contrast to the conditions in the jail, but he still couldn't find trust for them. These were the people who had sent him into the city, with a message for the princess. These were the people who had, if indirectly, caused his imprisonment in the first place.
To attempt to hide his identity he'd been washed, but the length of his hair and beard had been kept in place. The uniform that Hector had half talked half wrestled him into was made of a fine and sturdy material, but he was uncomfortable even next to the captain and his old comrade from the arena. Lesley's appearance had calmed him somewhat, it was a relief to know someone from his past trusted these people enough to show up. Being in the court with so many people after his self-imposed isolation since his freedom was his own personal nightmare, and odd as it was Lesley was a constant he could lean on.
Noise and people surrounded him and he had to fight to keep from turning in circles to try to keep his eyes on everyone. His gaze darted wildly around the room, noting the few people he knew and the number he didn't. Emilia was easily recognizable, he'd met her before and she looked enough like Persephone that even if he hadn't she would be, and there near her was Elias. It was lucky he'd been given no weapons, else he might have snapped the moment he saw the man who'd been responsible for all of the suffering he and his friends had been through in the past few months.
It's possible his growl was audible, and Hector's command had him stiffening and he clenched his jaw to try to keep the obvious fear and disgust off his face. Once this was over, he could see her. That was the promise. If he played his part they would free him, and as soon as he got to Olena's side he wanted to run far from this world. Perhaps they could make a farm somewhere, remember their past talents, or seek out the remainder of their people across the sea. It was all he could do to hover off of Hector's left shoulder, waiting as the man said. Though waiting for what, he wasn't entirely sure.
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From the moment he'd stepped into sunlight again after the time spent in the flyaki, Dima had not been able to settle his nerves. Without any definitive knowledge of Olena save that she was safe and well, if far from here, he'd been left in an uncertain agony. Chrysanthe had been a helping hand, keeping him calm and reminding him that this would be settled soon. Everyone was being kind, offering him space, clean clothes, food and as much water as he could drink in contrast to the conditions in the jail, but he still couldn't find trust for them. These were the people who had sent him into the city, with a message for the princess. These were the people who had, if indirectly, caused his imprisonment in the first place.
To attempt to hide his identity he'd been washed, but the length of his hair and beard had been kept in place. The uniform that Hector had half talked half wrestled him into was made of a fine and sturdy material, but he was uncomfortable even next to the captain and his old comrade from the arena. Lesley's appearance had calmed him somewhat, it was a relief to know someone from his past trusted these people enough to show up. Being in the court with so many people after his self-imposed isolation since his freedom was his own personal nightmare, and odd as it was Lesley was a constant he could lean on.
Noise and people surrounded him and he had to fight to keep from turning in circles to try to keep his eyes on everyone. His gaze darted wildly around the room, noting the few people he knew and the number he didn't. Emilia was easily recognizable, he'd met her before and she looked enough like Persephone that even if he hadn't she would be, and there near her was Elias. It was lucky he'd been given no weapons, else he might have snapped the moment he saw the man who'd been responsible for all of the suffering he and his friends had been through in the past few months.
It's possible his growl was audible, and Hector's command had him stiffening and he clenched his jaw to try to keep the obvious fear and disgust off his face. Once this was over, he could see her. That was the promise. If he played his part they would free him, and as soon as he got to Olena's side he wanted to run far from this world. Perhaps they could make a farm somewhere, remember their past talents, or seek out the remainder of their people across the sea. It was all he could do to hover off of Hector's left shoulder, waiting as the man said. Though waiting for what, he wasn't entirely sure.
From the moment he'd stepped into sunlight again after the time spent in the flyaki, Dima had not been able to settle his nerves. Without any definitive knowledge of Olena save that she was safe and well, if far from here, he'd been left in an uncertain agony. Chrysanthe had been a helping hand, keeping him calm and reminding him that this would be settled soon. Everyone was being kind, offering him space, clean clothes, food and as much water as he could drink in contrast to the conditions in the jail, but he still couldn't find trust for them. These were the people who had sent him into the city, with a message for the princess. These were the people who had, if indirectly, caused his imprisonment in the first place.
To attempt to hide his identity he'd been washed, but the length of his hair and beard had been kept in place. The uniform that Hector had half talked half wrestled him into was made of a fine and sturdy material, but he was uncomfortable even next to the captain and his old comrade from the arena. Lesley's appearance had calmed him somewhat, it was a relief to know someone from his past trusted these people enough to show up. Being in the court with so many people after his self-imposed isolation since his freedom was his own personal nightmare, and odd as it was Lesley was a constant he could lean on.
Noise and people surrounded him and he had to fight to keep from turning in circles to try to keep his eyes on everyone. His gaze darted wildly around the room, noting the few people he knew and the number he didn't. Emilia was easily recognizable, he'd met her before and she looked enough like Persephone that even if he hadn't she would be, and there near her was Elias. It was lucky he'd been given no weapons, else he might have snapped the moment he saw the man who'd been responsible for all of the suffering he and his friends had been through in the past few months.
It's possible his growl was audible, and Hector's command had him stiffening and he clenched his jaw to try to keep the obvious fear and disgust off his face. Once this was over, he could see her. That was the promise. If he played his part they would free him, and as soon as he got to Olena's side he wanted to run far from this world. Perhaps they could make a farm somewhere, remember their past talents, or seek out the remainder of their people across the sea. It was all he could do to hover off of Hector's left shoulder, waiting as the man said. Though waiting for what, he wasn't entirely sure.
The last month had barely felt real. Their trip into the city had been turned upside down from the moment that she had set foot inside the city walls. Now it felt as if nothing would ever be the same again. On that fateful day, Chrysanthe had found herself in the Antonis household by the end of the day and that had been where she had stayed since then. They had been very hospitable, allowing her time to heal from her own injuries, but she had never been entirely comfortable just sitting around. As soon as she was able, she was doing what she could to help out around the household, doing any odd tasks that were needed, and with Lady Marietta and Ariadne both in bad shape after the riots, there had been plenty she could help with.
Yet, she wasn’t comfortable relying on the Antonis for their hospitality. As nice as they had been, she didn’t want to rely on anyone without any guarantees. Thus, when she had seen that they were hiring people to help out with an event at the Royal Palati, she had taken the opportunity to take that job. That way she would have some of her own coin in her pocket and no longer be reliant on the Antonis to continue housing and feeding her.
Although Chrysanthe had tried to help as much as possible with making sure the Antonis household was available for the event, she had to leave relatively early to report for duty at the Palati. Once there, Chrysanthe had been given a uniform of a stark white peplos with gold fibulae engraved with the Xanthos swan. She and a dozen other young women were instructed on how they were to retrieve the food and wine from the kitchen, how they were to circulate amongst the guests, how they should address the guests. No detail was left unattended to when it came to the guests of the party.
Then, it was showtime. As the guests arrived, there were many people she did not recognize. That was to be expected at such a high society event. Then, there were the people she did recognize, and then even more. There was something that felt so strange to her that she might just be able to feel at ease in such a place amongst so fancy people. She began to circulate with the wine, offering a cup only where conversations started to wane. Her eye wandered towards those people she recognized, the Antonis family, or at least Evi and Marietta and her friend Ariadne.
Her step faltered for a moment as she recognized Hector and Dima decked out in the armor of the Xanthos guards. A puzzled look crossed her face as she looked at them. Clearly, something was off here, but she didn’t know enough to know what it might be. She didn’t have the time to figure out what it might be. She needed this job in order to have money on her own and she was not about to jeopardize it in order to satiate her curiosity. It was only a moment of hesitation, before she continued on, smiling at the next guests in front of her and offering them something to drink.
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The last month had barely felt real. Their trip into the city had been turned upside down from the moment that she had set foot inside the city walls. Now it felt as if nothing would ever be the same again. On that fateful day, Chrysanthe had found herself in the Antonis household by the end of the day and that had been where she had stayed since then. They had been very hospitable, allowing her time to heal from her own injuries, but she had never been entirely comfortable just sitting around. As soon as she was able, she was doing what she could to help out around the household, doing any odd tasks that were needed, and with Lady Marietta and Ariadne both in bad shape after the riots, there had been plenty she could help with.
Yet, she wasn’t comfortable relying on the Antonis for their hospitality. As nice as they had been, she didn’t want to rely on anyone without any guarantees. Thus, when she had seen that they were hiring people to help out with an event at the Royal Palati, she had taken the opportunity to take that job. That way she would have some of her own coin in her pocket and no longer be reliant on the Antonis to continue housing and feeding her.
Although Chrysanthe had tried to help as much as possible with making sure the Antonis household was available for the event, she had to leave relatively early to report for duty at the Palati. Once there, Chrysanthe had been given a uniform of a stark white peplos with gold fibulae engraved with the Xanthos swan. She and a dozen other young women were instructed on how they were to retrieve the food and wine from the kitchen, how they were to circulate amongst the guests, how they should address the guests. No detail was left unattended to when it came to the guests of the party.
Then, it was showtime. As the guests arrived, there were many people she did not recognize. That was to be expected at such a high society event. Then, there were the people she did recognize, and then even more. There was something that felt so strange to her that she might just be able to feel at ease in such a place amongst so fancy people. She began to circulate with the wine, offering a cup only where conversations started to wane. Her eye wandered towards those people she recognized, the Antonis family, or at least Evi and Marietta and her friend Ariadne.
Her step faltered for a moment as she recognized Hector and Dima decked out in the armor of the Xanthos guards. A puzzled look crossed her face as she looked at them. Clearly, something was off here, but she didn’t know enough to know what it might be. She didn’t have the time to figure out what it might be. She needed this job in order to have money on her own and she was not about to jeopardize it in order to satiate her curiosity. It was only a moment of hesitation, before she continued on, smiling at the next guests in front of her and offering them something to drink.
The last month had barely felt real. Their trip into the city had been turned upside down from the moment that she had set foot inside the city walls. Now it felt as if nothing would ever be the same again. On that fateful day, Chrysanthe had found herself in the Antonis household by the end of the day and that had been where she had stayed since then. They had been very hospitable, allowing her time to heal from her own injuries, but she had never been entirely comfortable just sitting around. As soon as she was able, she was doing what she could to help out around the household, doing any odd tasks that were needed, and with Lady Marietta and Ariadne both in bad shape after the riots, there had been plenty she could help with.
Yet, she wasn’t comfortable relying on the Antonis for their hospitality. As nice as they had been, she didn’t want to rely on anyone without any guarantees. Thus, when she had seen that they were hiring people to help out with an event at the Royal Palati, she had taken the opportunity to take that job. That way she would have some of her own coin in her pocket and no longer be reliant on the Antonis to continue housing and feeding her.
Although Chrysanthe had tried to help as much as possible with making sure the Antonis household was available for the event, she had to leave relatively early to report for duty at the Palati. Once there, Chrysanthe had been given a uniform of a stark white peplos with gold fibulae engraved with the Xanthos swan. She and a dozen other young women were instructed on how they were to retrieve the food and wine from the kitchen, how they were to circulate amongst the guests, how they should address the guests. No detail was left unattended to when it came to the guests of the party.
Then, it was showtime. As the guests arrived, there were many people she did not recognize. That was to be expected at such a high society event. Then, there were the people she did recognize, and then even more. There was something that felt so strange to her that she might just be able to feel at ease in such a place amongst so fancy people. She began to circulate with the wine, offering a cup only where conversations started to wane. Her eye wandered towards those people she recognized, the Antonis family, or at least Evi and Marietta and her friend Ariadne.
Her step faltered for a moment as she recognized Hector and Dima decked out in the armor of the Xanthos guards. A puzzled look crossed her face as she looked at them. Clearly, something was off here, but she didn’t know enough to know what it might be. She didn’t have the time to figure out what it might be. She needed this job in order to have money on her own and she was not about to jeopardize it in order to satiate her curiosity. It was only a moment of hesitation, before she continued on, smiling at the next guests in front of her and offering them something to drink.
They had been summoned to court- and this time, his father had tapped Adre to go and to escort Dione along with him. He didn’t want to go- he didn’t want to talk to anyone and he was terrified of not knowing what to do or say and getting stuck. Why did he need to even go? What would this even accomplish? He was out of bed before Dione, but he was trying to stall as much as possible. But alas, Adrestus left his home for the court and Grand Hall. He looked uncomfortable, but kept close to his sister. He held onto Dione’s arm tightly as she spoke to him. He forced a smile, and leaned towards his sister. “I don’t like it here.” Adrestus confessed, glancing around. He didn’t know what to do. He was dressed in noble attire- if you looked at him you wouldn’t be able to tell that he had been out sailing for most of his life. They entered and Adrestus took a deep breath. No turning back now.
Adrestus folded his arms and looked around the room as people continued to enter the hall. He saw Marietta, and took a note to avoid her. He had heard of her unconsciousness, and figured the last person she would want to talk to would be him. Iife hadn’t been the same since she had broken off the courting, but Adrestus was trying to move on. Perhaps… Perhaps the outcome was best for them both. Adrestus looked towards the ground as his sister spoke to him, and he frowned deeply. He was outwardly not happy and all he wanted to do was leave. “I wouldn’t know.” He muttered, and looked over at her. He watched her as she spoke to him, before immediately reaching out and grabbing her arm tightly. “Don’t you dare leave me alone with these people.” Dione was way more interested in this stuff then him, she knew the right things to say. He was more comfortable on the seas.
His stance changed as Ariadne moved towards him, and he smiled the first time that day. His heart seemed to relax it’s beat, and his stress levels decreased dramatically. He hadn’t expected her to be here, but he was sure excited that she was. “Ari.” Adrestus breathed, as if she had just saved him from a horrible thought. He had spent a long time beside Ari after the riots, and really enjoyed her. “Yes, this is my older sister.” He introduced her. “Not smarter than me though.” Adrestus played, before turning to smile at Ariadne. Of course, he always was more playful around pretty girls, and it was obvious he was flirting with Ari. “How are you feeling, gorgeous?” Adrestus flirted, his eyes more playful than the stressed darkness they had been before. “This is my first time at one of these.” The heir noticed Iris coming over, and Adre nodded to Iris as she talked with his sister. Adrestus took the moment to pull away from his older sister, now more comfortable in the hall. “Talk with you later, Dione.” He called back, before reaching out to touch Ari’s arm. “Having your company would make this more bearable.” He spoke softly to her, gently implying that she should stay around him.
Adrestus noticed Chrysanthe enter, and Adrestus waved over to her, happy to see the other after the riots. “Hey!” The noble stepped towards the other woman. “You all right after…. you know?”
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They had been summoned to court- and this time, his father had tapped Adre to go and to escort Dione along with him. He didn’t want to go- he didn’t want to talk to anyone and he was terrified of not knowing what to do or say and getting stuck. Why did he need to even go? What would this even accomplish? He was out of bed before Dione, but he was trying to stall as much as possible. But alas, Adrestus left his home for the court and Grand Hall. He looked uncomfortable, but kept close to his sister. He held onto Dione’s arm tightly as she spoke to him. He forced a smile, and leaned towards his sister. “I don’t like it here.” Adrestus confessed, glancing around. He didn’t know what to do. He was dressed in noble attire- if you looked at him you wouldn’t be able to tell that he had been out sailing for most of his life. They entered and Adrestus took a deep breath. No turning back now.
Adrestus folded his arms and looked around the room as people continued to enter the hall. He saw Marietta, and took a note to avoid her. He had heard of her unconsciousness, and figured the last person she would want to talk to would be him. Iife hadn’t been the same since she had broken off the courting, but Adrestus was trying to move on. Perhaps… Perhaps the outcome was best for them both. Adrestus looked towards the ground as his sister spoke to him, and he frowned deeply. He was outwardly not happy and all he wanted to do was leave. “I wouldn’t know.” He muttered, and looked over at her. He watched her as she spoke to him, before immediately reaching out and grabbing her arm tightly. “Don’t you dare leave me alone with these people.” Dione was way more interested in this stuff then him, she knew the right things to say. He was more comfortable on the seas.
His stance changed as Ariadne moved towards him, and he smiled the first time that day. His heart seemed to relax it’s beat, and his stress levels decreased dramatically. He hadn’t expected her to be here, but he was sure excited that she was. “Ari.” Adrestus breathed, as if she had just saved him from a horrible thought. He had spent a long time beside Ari after the riots, and really enjoyed her. “Yes, this is my older sister.” He introduced her. “Not smarter than me though.” Adrestus played, before turning to smile at Ariadne. Of course, he always was more playful around pretty girls, and it was obvious he was flirting with Ari. “How are you feeling, gorgeous?” Adrestus flirted, his eyes more playful than the stressed darkness they had been before. “This is my first time at one of these.” The heir noticed Iris coming over, and Adre nodded to Iris as she talked with his sister. Adrestus took the moment to pull away from his older sister, now more comfortable in the hall. “Talk with you later, Dione.” He called back, before reaching out to touch Ari’s arm. “Having your company would make this more bearable.” He spoke softly to her, gently implying that she should stay around him.
Adrestus noticed Chrysanthe enter, and Adrestus waved over to her, happy to see the other after the riots. “Hey!” The noble stepped towards the other woman. “You all right after…. you know?”
They had been summoned to court- and this time, his father had tapped Adre to go and to escort Dione along with him. He didn’t want to go- he didn’t want to talk to anyone and he was terrified of not knowing what to do or say and getting stuck. Why did he need to even go? What would this even accomplish? He was out of bed before Dione, but he was trying to stall as much as possible. But alas, Adrestus left his home for the court and Grand Hall. He looked uncomfortable, but kept close to his sister. He held onto Dione’s arm tightly as she spoke to him. He forced a smile, and leaned towards his sister. “I don’t like it here.” Adrestus confessed, glancing around. He didn’t know what to do. He was dressed in noble attire- if you looked at him you wouldn’t be able to tell that he had been out sailing for most of his life. They entered and Adrestus took a deep breath. No turning back now.
Adrestus folded his arms and looked around the room as people continued to enter the hall. He saw Marietta, and took a note to avoid her. He had heard of her unconsciousness, and figured the last person she would want to talk to would be him. Iife hadn’t been the same since she had broken off the courting, but Adrestus was trying to move on. Perhaps… Perhaps the outcome was best for them both. Adrestus looked towards the ground as his sister spoke to him, and he frowned deeply. He was outwardly not happy and all he wanted to do was leave. “I wouldn’t know.” He muttered, and looked over at her. He watched her as she spoke to him, before immediately reaching out and grabbing her arm tightly. “Don’t you dare leave me alone with these people.” Dione was way more interested in this stuff then him, she knew the right things to say. He was more comfortable on the seas.
His stance changed as Ariadne moved towards him, and he smiled the first time that day. His heart seemed to relax it’s beat, and his stress levels decreased dramatically. He hadn’t expected her to be here, but he was sure excited that she was. “Ari.” Adrestus breathed, as if she had just saved him from a horrible thought. He had spent a long time beside Ari after the riots, and really enjoyed her. “Yes, this is my older sister.” He introduced her. “Not smarter than me though.” Adrestus played, before turning to smile at Ariadne. Of course, he always was more playful around pretty girls, and it was obvious he was flirting with Ari. “How are you feeling, gorgeous?” Adrestus flirted, his eyes more playful than the stressed darkness they had been before. “This is my first time at one of these.” The heir noticed Iris coming over, and Adre nodded to Iris as she talked with his sister. Adrestus took the moment to pull away from his older sister, now more comfortable in the hall. “Talk with you later, Dione.” He called back, before reaching out to touch Ari’s arm. “Having your company would make this more bearable.” He spoke softly to her, gently implying that she should stay around him.
Adrestus noticed Chrysanthe enter, and Adrestus waved over to her, happy to see the other after the riots. “Hey!” The noble stepped towards the other woman. “You all right after…. you know?”
Elysia did not miss the way Lady Marietta reacted to the touch. Evi did not mind such things, but then, Elysia was more friendly with the elder sister than the younger. Thankfully, the elder sister happened to make an appearance right then and spared further awkwardness.
“Elysia, how good to see you. I trust you and your family are well after that terrible business.” Evi was so good at this sort of thing.
“We’re getting along,” she smiled. “Staying with my cousin Lady Iris and her Lord Aimias.” Now if Elysia could snag the title of ‘Lady’ somehow, that would be a real treat. However whimsical Elysia might be, she knew full well that this was highly unlikely. So she simply acted the part instead and let people forget that her parentage was only half noble - her mother, a lady in her own right - but with a father whom no one knew...well it was easy to assume that her father was clearly Zeus. There was no other reason in the world that she could personally think of with any degree of satisfaction.
She skimmed over the part where her house had burned enough that they’d had to move into smaller accommodations than she was willing to tolerate. Her gaze dropped from Evi down to Marietta and noted that the girl didn’t look to be paying all that much attention to the conversation. Elysia tutted internally, thinking this was a bit rude but she followed Marietta’s gaze and found it landing on a very handsome soldier across the way. Hector. He smiled at her, at Marietta, at Evi. Elysia inclined her head to him and then looked back at Marietta. Oh...poor lamb….
Well that was definitely going in the little black book. So young Marietta fancied a man her father’s age...interesting.
As though aware that she was in some personal danger, Marietta finally found it in herself to speak, only it was a little too late to save herself from suspicion. “I’m so sorry about your home, and don’t worry about the flowers. I was given so many that I fear all the gardens in Athenia are now barren.”
“I wasn’t at all worried about the flowers,” Elysia promised, a little confused about what flowers she was supposed to be concerned about. Marietta was a strange little one, though, so she was willing to play along. “Possessions can all be replaced, people can’t,” she repeated what other people so often said in well meaning, patronizing ways.
”Are your children back in the city or are you keeping them away for the time being?” Evi asked, yet again saving the conversation momentarily.
“Yes, they are. We’ve tucked them away while the city sorts itself. That was a horrible shock, let me just say.” But Elysia’s attention was wandering as she glanced at Lord Elias, who looked a little less than pleased with this situation. “Darlings,” she leaned in and kissed Evi’s cheek but didn’t attempt to touch Marietta again. Her aim was to please, not to annoy. “I must be off. A large room, very large. I’ll circle back around?”
And with that she was off to flounce onto her next victims. This happened to be Lord Rafail, Lord Pavlos, and Lady Daniil. She caught the tail end of Rafail’s conversation. “You’re renovating, my lord?” she asked. “Please, tell me the name of who you’re using. Those horrible riots saw our home shoot up in flames. Naturally I am on the lookout for an able builder.” To the other two, she dipped the proper curtsey.
“Lord Pavlos, Lady Daniil.” She was not friends exactly with the other two but she intended to be.
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Elysia did not miss the way Lady Marietta reacted to the touch. Evi did not mind such things, but then, Elysia was more friendly with the elder sister than the younger. Thankfully, the elder sister happened to make an appearance right then and spared further awkwardness.
“Elysia, how good to see you. I trust you and your family are well after that terrible business.” Evi was so good at this sort of thing.
“We’re getting along,” she smiled. “Staying with my cousin Lady Iris and her Lord Aimias.” Now if Elysia could snag the title of ‘Lady’ somehow, that would be a real treat. However whimsical Elysia might be, she knew full well that this was highly unlikely. So she simply acted the part instead and let people forget that her parentage was only half noble - her mother, a lady in her own right - but with a father whom no one knew...well it was easy to assume that her father was clearly Zeus. There was no other reason in the world that she could personally think of with any degree of satisfaction.
She skimmed over the part where her house had burned enough that they’d had to move into smaller accommodations than she was willing to tolerate. Her gaze dropped from Evi down to Marietta and noted that the girl didn’t look to be paying all that much attention to the conversation. Elysia tutted internally, thinking this was a bit rude but she followed Marietta’s gaze and found it landing on a very handsome soldier across the way. Hector. He smiled at her, at Marietta, at Evi. Elysia inclined her head to him and then looked back at Marietta. Oh...poor lamb….
Well that was definitely going in the little black book. So young Marietta fancied a man her father’s age...interesting.
As though aware that she was in some personal danger, Marietta finally found it in herself to speak, only it was a little too late to save herself from suspicion. “I’m so sorry about your home, and don’t worry about the flowers. I was given so many that I fear all the gardens in Athenia are now barren.”
“I wasn’t at all worried about the flowers,” Elysia promised, a little confused about what flowers she was supposed to be concerned about. Marietta was a strange little one, though, so she was willing to play along. “Possessions can all be replaced, people can’t,” she repeated what other people so often said in well meaning, patronizing ways.
”Are your children back in the city or are you keeping them away for the time being?” Evi asked, yet again saving the conversation momentarily.
“Yes, they are. We’ve tucked them away while the city sorts itself. That was a horrible shock, let me just say.” But Elysia’s attention was wandering as she glanced at Lord Elias, who looked a little less than pleased with this situation. “Darlings,” she leaned in and kissed Evi’s cheek but didn’t attempt to touch Marietta again. Her aim was to please, not to annoy. “I must be off. A large room, very large. I’ll circle back around?”
And with that she was off to flounce onto her next victims. This happened to be Lord Rafail, Lord Pavlos, and Lady Daniil. She caught the tail end of Rafail’s conversation. “You’re renovating, my lord?” she asked. “Please, tell me the name of who you’re using. Those horrible riots saw our home shoot up in flames. Naturally I am on the lookout for an able builder.” To the other two, she dipped the proper curtsey.
“Lord Pavlos, Lady Daniil.” She was not friends exactly with the other two but she intended to be.
Elysia did not miss the way Lady Marietta reacted to the touch. Evi did not mind such things, but then, Elysia was more friendly with the elder sister than the younger. Thankfully, the elder sister happened to make an appearance right then and spared further awkwardness.
“Elysia, how good to see you. I trust you and your family are well after that terrible business.” Evi was so good at this sort of thing.
“We’re getting along,” she smiled. “Staying with my cousin Lady Iris and her Lord Aimias.” Now if Elysia could snag the title of ‘Lady’ somehow, that would be a real treat. However whimsical Elysia might be, she knew full well that this was highly unlikely. So she simply acted the part instead and let people forget that her parentage was only half noble - her mother, a lady in her own right - but with a father whom no one knew...well it was easy to assume that her father was clearly Zeus. There was no other reason in the world that she could personally think of with any degree of satisfaction.
She skimmed over the part where her house had burned enough that they’d had to move into smaller accommodations than she was willing to tolerate. Her gaze dropped from Evi down to Marietta and noted that the girl didn’t look to be paying all that much attention to the conversation. Elysia tutted internally, thinking this was a bit rude but she followed Marietta’s gaze and found it landing on a very handsome soldier across the way. Hector. He smiled at her, at Marietta, at Evi. Elysia inclined her head to him and then looked back at Marietta. Oh...poor lamb….
Well that was definitely going in the little black book. So young Marietta fancied a man her father’s age...interesting.
As though aware that she was in some personal danger, Marietta finally found it in herself to speak, only it was a little too late to save herself from suspicion. “I’m so sorry about your home, and don’t worry about the flowers. I was given so many that I fear all the gardens in Athenia are now barren.”
“I wasn’t at all worried about the flowers,” Elysia promised, a little confused about what flowers she was supposed to be concerned about. Marietta was a strange little one, though, so she was willing to play along. “Possessions can all be replaced, people can’t,” she repeated what other people so often said in well meaning, patronizing ways.
”Are your children back in the city or are you keeping them away for the time being?” Evi asked, yet again saving the conversation momentarily.
“Yes, they are. We’ve tucked them away while the city sorts itself. That was a horrible shock, let me just say.” But Elysia’s attention was wandering as she glanced at Lord Elias, who looked a little less than pleased with this situation. “Darlings,” she leaned in and kissed Evi’s cheek but didn’t attempt to touch Marietta again. Her aim was to please, not to annoy. “I must be off. A large room, very large. I’ll circle back around?”
And with that she was off to flounce onto her next victims. This happened to be Lord Rafail, Lord Pavlos, and Lady Daniil. She caught the tail end of Rafail’s conversation. “You’re renovating, my lord?” she asked. “Please, tell me the name of who you’re using. Those horrible riots saw our home shoot up in flames. Naturally I am on the lookout for an able builder.” To the other two, she dipped the proper curtsey.
“Lord Pavlos, Lady Daniil.” She was not friends exactly with the other two but she intended to be.
Lord Pavlos caught the brief glance Lesley shot his way, and it was enough to convince him that tonight, there shouldn't be any mishaps. Unless someone provoked him of course...but no, no one was fool enough to cause a scene here, especially not now. So, Pavlos directs his attention away from his friend, and as he waited for his daughter's response he heard the unmistakable voice of his brother, and when he turned he caught the telltale sight of that head of gold. The older man's back automatically stiffened, and his jaw clenched with an audible snap. It came as no surprise that Lord Rafail began to talk his ear off before he could even get a word in, and he simply scowled at his brother until he finally fell silent.
"You would be able to answer that question yourself if you bothered to come home at all." Pavlos replied, his voice neutral and perfectly even. He knew how to compartmentalize his emotions when it came to his brother. "Have you seen father? I find it difficult to believe he would not show his face here, he'd die from shame." Pavlos came to an abrupt halt when Lady Elysia interrupted the conversation, forcing her own introduction and input.
Lord Pavlos was startled to say the least, it had been awhile since he had been to court, perhaps this is how things were done now? It ruffled his proverbial feathers, but he managed a polite smile. If you could call the slight upturn to the corner of his lips, otherwise hidden by the thickness of his mustache, a smile. It looked more like he was staring down at her with his steel cut eyes, emotionless.
"You've come to the right man," Pavlos flicked his gaze towards his brother, a visible smile now on his expression. "My brother would be happy to take on the task, wouldn't you Rafail?" It was childish to admit, but if he could manage to anger his sibling in even the slightest way, then it would have been worth the fallout. Lord Rafail was not like Lady Sofia, who he felt some semblance of affection for; at least she did not make it her mission to torment him. Although her recent activities left a bit of a sour taste in his mouth.
He was starting to get that stifling feeling again, and he wondered if he should step away to greet the others present, he'd spotted other familiar faces and he knew it would be proper to make his rounds, have it be known that he was in attendance.
It was then he felt someone take hold of his arm, withholding his knee-jerk reaction, he quickly glanced down to see his wife at his side and it was then he found his escape plan. The women and his brother could continue mingling while he would move to...hm, perhaps Marietta? She was close friends with his sister, and that would give them some commom ground to stand on, perhaps he could tug free some information about Sofia as well. Along side her was Evie, and he had vague familarties with her as well.
Pavlos reached out his hand and placed it against Daniil's shoulder, leaning down to murmur into her ear. "Make sure your Uncle stays out of trouble, hm?" It was a pathetic attempt at affection, but he knew she appreciated his efforts to make her laugh, and honestly that was all that mattered. Lord Pavlos then moved to step away.
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Lord Pavlos caught the brief glance Lesley shot his way, and it was enough to convince him that tonight, there shouldn't be any mishaps. Unless someone provoked him of course...but no, no one was fool enough to cause a scene here, especially not now. So, Pavlos directs his attention away from his friend, and as he waited for his daughter's response he heard the unmistakable voice of his brother, and when he turned he caught the telltale sight of that head of gold. The older man's back automatically stiffened, and his jaw clenched with an audible snap. It came as no surprise that Lord Rafail began to talk his ear off before he could even get a word in, and he simply scowled at his brother until he finally fell silent.
"You would be able to answer that question yourself if you bothered to come home at all." Pavlos replied, his voice neutral and perfectly even. He knew how to compartmentalize his emotions when it came to his brother. "Have you seen father? I find it difficult to believe he would not show his face here, he'd die from shame." Pavlos came to an abrupt halt when Lady Elysia interrupted the conversation, forcing her own introduction and input.
Lord Pavlos was startled to say the least, it had been awhile since he had been to court, perhaps this is how things were done now? It ruffled his proverbial feathers, but he managed a polite smile. If you could call the slight upturn to the corner of his lips, otherwise hidden by the thickness of his mustache, a smile. It looked more like he was staring down at her with his steel cut eyes, emotionless.
"You've come to the right man," Pavlos flicked his gaze towards his brother, a visible smile now on his expression. "My brother would be happy to take on the task, wouldn't you Rafail?" It was childish to admit, but if he could manage to anger his sibling in even the slightest way, then it would have been worth the fallout. Lord Rafail was not like Lady Sofia, who he felt some semblance of affection for; at least she did not make it her mission to torment him. Although her recent activities left a bit of a sour taste in his mouth.
He was starting to get that stifling feeling again, and he wondered if he should step away to greet the others present, he'd spotted other familiar faces and he knew it would be proper to make his rounds, have it be known that he was in attendance.
It was then he felt someone take hold of his arm, withholding his knee-jerk reaction, he quickly glanced down to see his wife at his side and it was then he found his escape plan. The women and his brother could continue mingling while he would move to...hm, perhaps Marietta? She was close friends with his sister, and that would give them some commom ground to stand on, perhaps he could tug free some information about Sofia as well. Along side her was Evie, and he had vague familarties with her as well.
Pavlos reached out his hand and placed it against Daniil's shoulder, leaning down to murmur into her ear. "Make sure your Uncle stays out of trouble, hm?" It was a pathetic attempt at affection, but he knew she appreciated his efforts to make her laugh, and honestly that was all that mattered. Lord Pavlos then moved to step away.
Lord Pavlos caught the brief glance Lesley shot his way, and it was enough to convince him that tonight, there shouldn't be any mishaps. Unless someone provoked him of course...but no, no one was fool enough to cause a scene here, especially not now. So, Pavlos directs his attention away from his friend, and as he waited for his daughter's response he heard the unmistakable voice of his brother, and when he turned he caught the telltale sight of that head of gold. The older man's back automatically stiffened, and his jaw clenched with an audible snap. It came as no surprise that Lord Rafail began to talk his ear off before he could even get a word in, and he simply scowled at his brother until he finally fell silent.
"You would be able to answer that question yourself if you bothered to come home at all." Pavlos replied, his voice neutral and perfectly even. He knew how to compartmentalize his emotions when it came to his brother. "Have you seen father? I find it difficult to believe he would not show his face here, he'd die from shame." Pavlos came to an abrupt halt when Lady Elysia interrupted the conversation, forcing her own introduction and input.
Lord Pavlos was startled to say the least, it had been awhile since he had been to court, perhaps this is how things were done now? It ruffled his proverbial feathers, but he managed a polite smile. If you could call the slight upturn to the corner of his lips, otherwise hidden by the thickness of his mustache, a smile. It looked more like he was staring down at her with his steel cut eyes, emotionless.
"You've come to the right man," Pavlos flicked his gaze towards his brother, a visible smile now on his expression. "My brother would be happy to take on the task, wouldn't you Rafail?" It was childish to admit, but if he could manage to anger his sibling in even the slightest way, then it would have been worth the fallout. Lord Rafail was not like Lady Sofia, who he felt some semblance of affection for; at least she did not make it her mission to torment him. Although her recent activities left a bit of a sour taste in his mouth.
He was starting to get that stifling feeling again, and he wondered if he should step away to greet the others present, he'd spotted other familiar faces and he knew it would be proper to make his rounds, have it be known that he was in attendance.
It was then he felt someone take hold of his arm, withholding his knee-jerk reaction, he quickly glanced down to see his wife at his side and it was then he found his escape plan. The women and his brother could continue mingling while he would move to...hm, perhaps Marietta? She was close friends with his sister, and that would give them some commom ground to stand on, perhaps he could tug free some information about Sofia as well. Along side her was Evie, and he had vague familarties with her as well.
Pavlos reached out his hand and placed it against Daniil's shoulder, leaning down to murmur into her ear. "Make sure your Uncle stays out of trouble, hm?" It was a pathetic attempt at affection, but he knew she appreciated his efforts to make her laugh, and honestly that was all that mattered. Lord Pavlos then moved to step away.
Daniil took a moment to weave to where her cousin stood. She dropped into a graceful curtsey and murmurs, "Your Highness. I am happy to see you well."
Slowly she made her way to a quiet area of the room, careful of her dress as she moved. Once she found a spot, she stopped and waited
Danill watched the room much like a hawk watching it's dinner. She was no that far away that she failed to catch Elysia's greeting to Marietta. Her guard flew up in response, faster then it took for a horse to go from trot to a full out gallop. The hazel eyed beauty smelled a snake in the grass and was not at all amused. She was just about to move to her friend's side when she heard footsteps approaching where she stood and then stop. Her eyes shifted and then danced around the room. She caught sight of Lesly and smiled. He looked like he was about to spit, or worse. If he did, Gods knew she'd be at his back, like always. Besides Prince Yannis of Kotas and her father, he was her favorite fighter. She smiled more at the sight of her half brother, Alehandros.
Daniil kept her eyes on the scene before her as she waited for whomever had approached her to make their presence known by more then mere footsteps. She didn't have to wait long for Pavlos' cool voice to fill that quiet space between father and daughter. She glanced from the scene to the nearly matching eyes of her father. She gave him a smile though her posture indicated that she was about as tense as the others in the room.
"Hello Father. I am well. This evening....." she allowed her voice to trail off in indication of the tension around them. When he looked away from her, Daniil's gaze naturally shifted to follow his. Her smile grew as her eyes lighted on Danae and she made a mental note to find time to speak with her. Daniil felt the air move around her as Pavlos staightened his spine. She knew it was an automatic response to the names a ranks in the room. Inwardly, she bristled. Court occasions caused this reaction thanks to the recent past. She hid it well. Disrespect to the crown in public was not something that was tolerated. She created enough talk as it was, so a bit of lip service went a long way. That would make Panos happy in any case.
Daniil caught sight of her mother and inclined her head in greeting and then did the same to her elder sisters. Daniil reached a hand over and laid it on her father's arm. It was a gesture of comfort for them both.
"Shall we mingle Father?"
While she awated a response, Daniil caught sight of her uncle Rafail paying his respects to the Princess and her circle. She enjoyed watching him charm the ladies. There was a genuine friendship between him and Elias and it showed. Ah to have a friend to be that at peace with and to have the ease that they displayed.
At his approach, with wine glass in hand, she kept her hand on her father's arm and inclined her head as she murmured a calm "Uncle Rafail." in greeting. At his question of home she waited to see what Pavlos said while she went into watchful mode. She was, after all, the supplier of most of the Household's gossip and it cane from many events such of this.
She caught the exchange between Lesley and her father moments before being interrupted by another. She saw him relax and nodded to herself. Good. Yes. Relax. Dont trip the trigger.
Her smile grew as she caught sight of Iris with her husband. Daniil was long overdue for a chat with her long time friend. There would be time for that and she would bide her time.
The moment that Daniil saw Elysia approaching their area. She felt Pavlos lay a hand on her shoulder. The she heard him whisper in her while her smile stayed glued in place. Time for the mongoose to dance with the snake. The Marikas Peacock could and would take care of himself she knew. Putting on a show for their observer, Daniil moved to kiss her Father's cheek as she whispered with a smile, "Of course Father."
She watched her parents move away before pulling herself up to her full height and acknowledging her finally with a cool "Lady Elysia." her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
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Daniil took a moment to weave to where her cousin stood. She dropped into a graceful curtsey and murmurs, "Your Highness. I am happy to see you well."
Slowly she made her way to a quiet area of the room, careful of her dress as she moved. Once she found a spot, she stopped and waited
Danill watched the room much like a hawk watching it's dinner. She was no that far away that she failed to catch Elysia's greeting to Marietta. Her guard flew up in response, faster then it took for a horse to go from trot to a full out gallop. The hazel eyed beauty smelled a snake in the grass and was not at all amused. She was just about to move to her friend's side when she heard footsteps approaching where she stood and then stop. Her eyes shifted and then danced around the room. She caught sight of Lesly and smiled. He looked like he was about to spit, or worse. If he did, Gods knew she'd be at his back, like always. Besides Prince Yannis of Kotas and her father, he was her favorite fighter. She smiled more at the sight of her half brother, Alehandros.
Daniil kept her eyes on the scene before her as she waited for whomever had approached her to make their presence known by more then mere footsteps. She didn't have to wait long for Pavlos' cool voice to fill that quiet space between father and daughter. She glanced from the scene to the nearly matching eyes of her father. She gave him a smile though her posture indicated that she was about as tense as the others in the room.
"Hello Father. I am well. This evening....." she allowed her voice to trail off in indication of the tension around them. When he looked away from her, Daniil's gaze naturally shifted to follow his. Her smile grew as her eyes lighted on Danae and she made a mental note to find time to speak with her. Daniil felt the air move around her as Pavlos staightened his spine. She knew it was an automatic response to the names a ranks in the room. Inwardly, she bristled. Court occasions caused this reaction thanks to the recent past. She hid it well. Disrespect to the crown in public was not something that was tolerated. She created enough talk as it was, so a bit of lip service went a long way. That would make Panos happy in any case.
Daniil caught sight of her mother and inclined her head in greeting and then did the same to her elder sisters. Daniil reached a hand over and laid it on her father's arm. It was a gesture of comfort for them both.
"Shall we mingle Father?"
While she awated a response, Daniil caught sight of her uncle Rafail paying his respects to the Princess and her circle. She enjoyed watching him charm the ladies. There was a genuine friendship between him and Elias and it showed. Ah to have a friend to be that at peace with and to have the ease that they displayed.
At his approach, with wine glass in hand, she kept her hand on her father's arm and inclined her head as she murmured a calm "Uncle Rafail." in greeting. At his question of home she waited to see what Pavlos said while she went into watchful mode. She was, after all, the supplier of most of the Household's gossip and it cane from many events such of this.
She caught the exchange between Lesley and her father moments before being interrupted by another. She saw him relax and nodded to herself. Good. Yes. Relax. Dont trip the trigger.
Her smile grew as she caught sight of Iris with her husband. Daniil was long overdue for a chat with her long time friend. There would be time for that and she would bide her time.
The moment that Daniil saw Elysia approaching their area. She felt Pavlos lay a hand on her shoulder. The she heard him whisper in her while her smile stayed glued in place. Time for the mongoose to dance with the snake. The Marikas Peacock could and would take care of himself she knew. Putting on a show for their observer, Daniil moved to kiss her Father's cheek as she whispered with a smile, "Of course Father."
She watched her parents move away before pulling herself up to her full height and acknowledging her finally with a cool "Lady Elysia." her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
Daniil took a moment to weave to where her cousin stood. She dropped into a graceful curtsey and murmurs, "Your Highness. I am happy to see you well."
Slowly she made her way to a quiet area of the room, careful of her dress as she moved. Once she found a spot, she stopped and waited
Danill watched the room much like a hawk watching it's dinner. She was no that far away that she failed to catch Elysia's greeting to Marietta. Her guard flew up in response, faster then it took for a horse to go from trot to a full out gallop. The hazel eyed beauty smelled a snake in the grass and was not at all amused. She was just about to move to her friend's side when she heard footsteps approaching where she stood and then stop. Her eyes shifted and then danced around the room. She caught sight of Lesly and smiled. He looked like he was about to spit, or worse. If he did, Gods knew she'd be at his back, like always. Besides Prince Yannis of Kotas and her father, he was her favorite fighter. She smiled more at the sight of her half brother, Alehandros.
Daniil kept her eyes on the scene before her as she waited for whomever had approached her to make their presence known by more then mere footsteps. She didn't have to wait long for Pavlos' cool voice to fill that quiet space between father and daughter. She glanced from the scene to the nearly matching eyes of her father. She gave him a smile though her posture indicated that she was about as tense as the others in the room.
"Hello Father. I am well. This evening....." she allowed her voice to trail off in indication of the tension around them. When he looked away from her, Daniil's gaze naturally shifted to follow his. Her smile grew as her eyes lighted on Danae and she made a mental note to find time to speak with her. Daniil felt the air move around her as Pavlos staightened his spine. She knew it was an automatic response to the names a ranks in the room. Inwardly, she bristled. Court occasions caused this reaction thanks to the recent past. She hid it well. Disrespect to the crown in public was not something that was tolerated. She created enough talk as it was, so a bit of lip service went a long way. That would make Panos happy in any case.
Daniil caught sight of her mother and inclined her head in greeting and then did the same to her elder sisters. Daniil reached a hand over and laid it on her father's arm. It was a gesture of comfort for them both.
"Shall we mingle Father?"
While she awated a response, Daniil caught sight of her uncle Rafail paying his respects to the Princess and her circle. She enjoyed watching him charm the ladies. There was a genuine friendship between him and Elias and it showed. Ah to have a friend to be that at peace with and to have the ease that they displayed.
At his approach, with wine glass in hand, she kept her hand on her father's arm and inclined her head as she murmured a calm "Uncle Rafail." in greeting. At his question of home she waited to see what Pavlos said while she went into watchful mode. She was, after all, the supplier of most of the Household's gossip and it cane from many events such of this.
She caught the exchange between Lesley and her father moments before being interrupted by another. She saw him relax and nodded to herself. Good. Yes. Relax. Dont trip the trigger.
Her smile grew as she caught sight of Iris with her husband. Daniil was long overdue for a chat with her long time friend. There would be time for that and she would bide her time.
The moment that Daniil saw Elysia approaching their area. She felt Pavlos lay a hand on her shoulder. The she heard him whisper in her while her smile stayed glued in place. Time for the mongoose to dance with the snake. The Marikas Peacock could and would take care of himself she knew. Putting on a show for their observer, Daniil moved to kiss her Father's cheek as she whispered with a smile, "Of course Father."
She watched her parents move away before pulling herself up to her full height and acknowledging her finally with a cool "Lady Elysia." her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
Some of her colleagues and other people who worked in the same line of work as she did would sometimes wonder why their clients needed them as 'smokescreen', but half the reason why Demi was in such high demand was precisely because she did not pry. Far be it for her to ask questions if the young lordling wanted to ensure his attendance but also wanted to cavort with other young lordlings of similar inclinations, all whilst ensuring he had someone in the ballroom to speak for his presence if asked.
That was all Demi had been tasked by Lord Felipe to do before he slipped away, to ensure everyone knew he was in attendance, and that whenever they asked he was simply 'momentarily away to take care of private matters, and would be shortly back'. Demi would stick to the script, even as she looked around. The young man had provded her with the chiton and fibulae afterall, it was the least she could do. He seemed oddly steadfast in ensuring his reputation, but Demi was not going to ask on why.
Surreptiously taking the chalice of wine with her as she meandered the outer edges of the hall they were in. Despite knowing it would far better serve her purpose to be right in the middle of all the attention, Demi had never been too comfortable in a crowd, and inevitably compared herself to the more resplendantly dressed courtiers and nobles. It was a bad habit that came from years of living in poverty and scraping by, but she knew she had to do something about it. The days of Hector having the actual royal family in the household was nervewracking in and of itself honestly, but it did push her out of her comfort zone a little.
But despite it supposedly being any other court session, the tension was palpable in the room, and if Demi was going by the tense way in which Hector held himself (for her eyes had sought his form out the moment he had entered, inevitably), she could guess something was going on. She knew Hector well enough to tell, although a voice at the back of her mind did remind her it could simply be because Hector had not fancied seeing the way her companion lordling at fawned over her in pretense.
Still, he was no longer around, and for a brief moment, Demi had her freedom.
Taking another sip of wine from her chalice, it took some effort for her to finally tear her clear gaze from Hector to observe the rest of the party, odd to see how they all were relaxed when not too long ago, riots clearly showed how displeased the commoners were. And yet here they were dressed to the nines and in a gilded hall, enjoying festivities.
Demi had no wish to be caught in such riots again, having escaped narrowly, with small bruises that quickly faded, but she had grew incredibly antsy in huge crowds after, and simply wanted to avoid it all. She had even chosen to stay indoors for a short while (a fact she was quite sure Hector far preferred, as it meant she did not entertain clients for quite some time).
Turning her eyes to see Ariadne entering, a soft smile briefly touched her lips, but Demi made no move to approach the young lady. She chose not to speak to Ariadne or Ismene whenever she was working. Maybe she focused on her job? Or maybe she was simply ashamed of her job. Whichever was the truth, Demi did not wish to explore, and merely ducked to the other end of the Grand Hall... only to pause when she saw that instead of running away from trouble, she saw the faces of the Marikas family. Did Elias ever speak to Rafail on his brief dalliance with her? She hoped not. She had managed to keep the weeklong 'keeping' by Elias from Hector, and had no wish for her lover to find out, after what she's learned regarding Elias's part in this whole debacle. Suffice to say, he wouldn't be pleased. And Demi would prefer to avoid that brand of outburst.
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Some of her colleagues and other people who worked in the same line of work as she did would sometimes wonder why their clients needed them as 'smokescreen', but half the reason why Demi was in such high demand was precisely because she did not pry. Far be it for her to ask questions if the young lordling wanted to ensure his attendance but also wanted to cavort with other young lordlings of similar inclinations, all whilst ensuring he had someone in the ballroom to speak for his presence if asked.
That was all Demi had been tasked by Lord Felipe to do before he slipped away, to ensure everyone knew he was in attendance, and that whenever they asked he was simply 'momentarily away to take care of private matters, and would be shortly back'. Demi would stick to the script, even as she looked around. The young man had provded her with the chiton and fibulae afterall, it was the least she could do. He seemed oddly steadfast in ensuring his reputation, but Demi was not going to ask on why.
Surreptiously taking the chalice of wine with her as she meandered the outer edges of the hall they were in. Despite knowing it would far better serve her purpose to be right in the middle of all the attention, Demi had never been too comfortable in a crowd, and inevitably compared herself to the more resplendantly dressed courtiers and nobles. It was a bad habit that came from years of living in poverty and scraping by, but she knew she had to do something about it. The days of Hector having the actual royal family in the household was nervewracking in and of itself honestly, but it did push her out of her comfort zone a little.
But despite it supposedly being any other court session, the tension was palpable in the room, and if Demi was going by the tense way in which Hector held himself (for her eyes had sought his form out the moment he had entered, inevitably), she could guess something was going on. She knew Hector well enough to tell, although a voice at the back of her mind did remind her it could simply be because Hector had not fancied seeing the way her companion lordling at fawned over her in pretense.
Still, he was no longer around, and for a brief moment, Demi had her freedom.
Taking another sip of wine from her chalice, it took some effort for her to finally tear her clear gaze from Hector to observe the rest of the party, odd to see how they all were relaxed when not too long ago, riots clearly showed how displeased the commoners were. And yet here they were dressed to the nines and in a gilded hall, enjoying festivities.
Demi had no wish to be caught in such riots again, having escaped narrowly, with small bruises that quickly faded, but she had grew incredibly antsy in huge crowds after, and simply wanted to avoid it all. She had even chosen to stay indoors for a short while (a fact she was quite sure Hector far preferred, as it meant she did not entertain clients for quite some time).
Turning her eyes to see Ariadne entering, a soft smile briefly touched her lips, but Demi made no move to approach the young lady. She chose not to speak to Ariadne or Ismene whenever she was working. Maybe she focused on her job? Or maybe she was simply ashamed of her job. Whichever was the truth, Demi did not wish to explore, and merely ducked to the other end of the Grand Hall... only to pause when she saw that instead of running away from trouble, she saw the faces of the Marikas family. Did Elias ever speak to Rafail on his brief dalliance with her? She hoped not. She had managed to keep the weeklong 'keeping' by Elias from Hector, and had no wish for her lover to find out, after what she's learned regarding Elias's part in this whole debacle. Suffice to say, he wouldn't be pleased. And Demi would prefer to avoid that brand of outburst.
Some of her colleagues and other people who worked in the same line of work as she did would sometimes wonder why their clients needed them as 'smokescreen', but half the reason why Demi was in such high demand was precisely because she did not pry. Far be it for her to ask questions if the young lordling wanted to ensure his attendance but also wanted to cavort with other young lordlings of similar inclinations, all whilst ensuring he had someone in the ballroom to speak for his presence if asked.
That was all Demi had been tasked by Lord Felipe to do before he slipped away, to ensure everyone knew he was in attendance, and that whenever they asked he was simply 'momentarily away to take care of private matters, and would be shortly back'. Demi would stick to the script, even as she looked around. The young man had provded her with the chiton and fibulae afterall, it was the least she could do. He seemed oddly steadfast in ensuring his reputation, but Demi was not going to ask on why.
Surreptiously taking the chalice of wine with her as she meandered the outer edges of the hall they were in. Despite knowing it would far better serve her purpose to be right in the middle of all the attention, Demi had never been too comfortable in a crowd, and inevitably compared herself to the more resplendantly dressed courtiers and nobles. It was a bad habit that came from years of living in poverty and scraping by, but she knew she had to do something about it. The days of Hector having the actual royal family in the household was nervewracking in and of itself honestly, but it did push her out of her comfort zone a little.
But despite it supposedly being any other court session, the tension was palpable in the room, and if Demi was going by the tense way in which Hector held himself (for her eyes had sought his form out the moment he had entered, inevitably), she could guess something was going on. She knew Hector well enough to tell, although a voice at the back of her mind did remind her it could simply be because Hector had not fancied seeing the way her companion lordling at fawned over her in pretense.
Still, he was no longer around, and for a brief moment, Demi had her freedom.
Taking another sip of wine from her chalice, it took some effort for her to finally tear her clear gaze from Hector to observe the rest of the party, odd to see how they all were relaxed when not too long ago, riots clearly showed how displeased the commoners were. And yet here they were dressed to the nines and in a gilded hall, enjoying festivities.
Demi had no wish to be caught in such riots again, having escaped narrowly, with small bruises that quickly faded, but she had grew incredibly antsy in huge crowds after, and simply wanted to avoid it all. She had even chosen to stay indoors for a short while (a fact she was quite sure Hector far preferred, as it meant she did not entertain clients for quite some time).
Turning her eyes to see Ariadne entering, a soft smile briefly touched her lips, but Demi made no move to approach the young lady. She chose not to speak to Ariadne or Ismene whenever she was working. Maybe she focused on her job? Or maybe she was simply ashamed of her job. Whichever was the truth, Demi did not wish to explore, and merely ducked to the other end of the Grand Hall... only to pause when she saw that instead of running away from trouble, she saw the faces of the Marikas family. Did Elias ever speak to Rafail on his brief dalliance with her? She hoped not. She had managed to keep the weeklong 'keeping' by Elias from Hector, and had no wish for her lover to find out, after what she's learned regarding Elias's part in this whole debacle. Suffice to say, he wouldn't be pleased. And Demi would prefer to avoid that brand of outburst.
Standing at the threshold of the entrance stood the last of House Nickolaos, literally and figuratively, Lady Rene. Her arrival behind everyone else, it was apropos to her station, even among her family, though, in some part, it was a result of likely having stopped to admire a fetching piece of art or sculpture that had caught her artist’s eye. Large, striking azure pools drifted about the room slowly, marveling at the collection of glittering occupants, the movers and shakers, the powerful and noteworthy. It was always exciting to be included in the affairs of the family, as it didn’t happen often. Without a gaze marred by rumor and gossip, she beamed in wonderment, excitement brimming just below the surface, and it was merely on account of such impeccable training her parents had seen fit to bestow upon her that she held the euphoria of acceptance at bay, even if only in brief.
Emerging into the social affair, all the ostentatious posturing was largely lost on her, content to admire the array of beautiful people, even as they licked their wounds in the aftermath of the riots. As she rarely left the sanctity and protection of her family’s estate, Rene had been spared from the devastation, an ironic blessing that came as a direct result of her exclusion. Even still, she held no tainted view of the aristocracy before her, content to drift about the polished marble floors and ionic pillars of the palace, donning a one-shouldered chiton of subdued lilac, trimmed in resplendent silver, with matching himation hung loose about her, framed as her face in flaxen tresses, reflecting the milk white beauty of her shoulders and arms. While she hardly thought much of herself, she remained a devoted servant to her patroness, Aphrodite, grateful for what the goddess had seen fit to impart upon her. She held in her hands something carefully wrapped in a white drape, not terribly large, but enough that it required being cradled in one arm.
Somewhere amid the sparkling entourage were her siblings, and find them she would. But first things first; Rene’s lovely blue eyes immediately sought out the dais and throne where the princess holding court was seated. As if determined, she set off towards the young princess’ position, a girl her own age. As she moved through the crowd, she recognized faces here and there, and if they made eye contact, she genuflected to each and every one of them, her innocence and smile shining brightly.
As she approached the princess, she waited should a herald introduce her to the royal before stepping forward. With a reverent curtsy, she lowered her eyes to the floor in all her unworthiness before rising. “Your Majesty, I am elated to see you so well, and to be in your presence. If it pleases Her Highness, I have made this for you as a gift from House Nickolaos, to honor the Xanthos monarchy,” she said to the lustrous adolescent seated before her. Unwrapping the item in her arms, she revealed it to be a moderately sized vase. Narrow at the bottom and resting on a circular base, it widened upward, handles on either side attached by their ionic curls. Perhaps most striking was the vase’s color, where most pottery at that point was light with darkly painted characters, this one was the rich red of clay, and instead of the characters being painted, the negative spaces around them were painted, leaving the figures themselves to stand out in the magnificent hue of the earthenware itself. Depicted on the vase were two females, adorned in hand-detailed chitons and crowns, one taller than the other, the Xanthos sisters themselves, immortalized in such a fashion.
Perhaps it was perceived as unmitigated presumptuous gall, that the lesser daughter of the House and likely the most unimportant of all nobility should prostrate herself at the feet of royalty, but Rene knew only a desire to be gracious and supportive. She extended it towards the princess, for either herself or an attendant to collect, waiting with baited breath for either acceptance, or rejection.
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Standing at the threshold of the entrance stood the last of House Nickolaos, literally and figuratively, Lady Rene. Her arrival behind everyone else, it was apropos to her station, even among her family, though, in some part, it was a result of likely having stopped to admire a fetching piece of art or sculpture that had caught her artist’s eye. Large, striking azure pools drifted about the room slowly, marveling at the collection of glittering occupants, the movers and shakers, the powerful and noteworthy. It was always exciting to be included in the affairs of the family, as it didn’t happen often. Without a gaze marred by rumor and gossip, she beamed in wonderment, excitement brimming just below the surface, and it was merely on account of such impeccable training her parents had seen fit to bestow upon her that she held the euphoria of acceptance at bay, even if only in brief.
Emerging into the social affair, all the ostentatious posturing was largely lost on her, content to admire the array of beautiful people, even as they licked their wounds in the aftermath of the riots. As she rarely left the sanctity and protection of her family’s estate, Rene had been spared from the devastation, an ironic blessing that came as a direct result of her exclusion. Even still, she held no tainted view of the aristocracy before her, content to drift about the polished marble floors and ionic pillars of the palace, donning a one-shouldered chiton of subdued lilac, trimmed in resplendent silver, with matching himation hung loose about her, framed as her face in flaxen tresses, reflecting the milk white beauty of her shoulders and arms. While she hardly thought much of herself, she remained a devoted servant to her patroness, Aphrodite, grateful for what the goddess had seen fit to impart upon her. She held in her hands something carefully wrapped in a white drape, not terribly large, but enough that it required being cradled in one arm.
Somewhere amid the sparkling entourage were her siblings, and find them she would. But first things first; Rene’s lovely blue eyes immediately sought out the dais and throne where the princess holding court was seated. As if determined, she set off towards the young princess’ position, a girl her own age. As she moved through the crowd, she recognized faces here and there, and if they made eye contact, she genuflected to each and every one of them, her innocence and smile shining brightly.
As she approached the princess, she waited should a herald introduce her to the royal before stepping forward. With a reverent curtsy, she lowered her eyes to the floor in all her unworthiness before rising. “Your Majesty, I am elated to see you so well, and to be in your presence. If it pleases Her Highness, I have made this for you as a gift from House Nickolaos, to honor the Xanthos monarchy,” she said to the lustrous adolescent seated before her. Unwrapping the item in her arms, she revealed it to be a moderately sized vase. Narrow at the bottom and resting on a circular base, it widened upward, handles on either side attached by their ionic curls. Perhaps most striking was the vase’s color, where most pottery at that point was light with darkly painted characters, this one was the rich red of clay, and instead of the characters being painted, the negative spaces around them were painted, leaving the figures themselves to stand out in the magnificent hue of the earthenware itself. Depicted on the vase were two females, adorned in hand-detailed chitons and crowns, one taller than the other, the Xanthos sisters themselves, immortalized in such a fashion.
Perhaps it was perceived as unmitigated presumptuous gall, that the lesser daughter of the House and likely the most unimportant of all nobility should prostrate herself at the feet of royalty, but Rene knew only a desire to be gracious and supportive. She extended it towards the princess, for either herself or an attendant to collect, waiting with baited breath for either acceptance, or rejection.
Standing at the threshold of the entrance stood the last of House Nickolaos, literally and figuratively, Lady Rene. Her arrival behind everyone else, it was apropos to her station, even among her family, though, in some part, it was a result of likely having stopped to admire a fetching piece of art or sculpture that had caught her artist’s eye. Large, striking azure pools drifted about the room slowly, marveling at the collection of glittering occupants, the movers and shakers, the powerful and noteworthy. It was always exciting to be included in the affairs of the family, as it didn’t happen often. Without a gaze marred by rumor and gossip, she beamed in wonderment, excitement brimming just below the surface, and it was merely on account of such impeccable training her parents had seen fit to bestow upon her that she held the euphoria of acceptance at bay, even if only in brief.
Emerging into the social affair, all the ostentatious posturing was largely lost on her, content to admire the array of beautiful people, even as they licked their wounds in the aftermath of the riots. As she rarely left the sanctity and protection of her family’s estate, Rene had been spared from the devastation, an ironic blessing that came as a direct result of her exclusion. Even still, she held no tainted view of the aristocracy before her, content to drift about the polished marble floors and ionic pillars of the palace, donning a one-shouldered chiton of subdued lilac, trimmed in resplendent silver, with matching himation hung loose about her, framed as her face in flaxen tresses, reflecting the milk white beauty of her shoulders and arms. While she hardly thought much of herself, she remained a devoted servant to her patroness, Aphrodite, grateful for what the goddess had seen fit to impart upon her. She held in her hands something carefully wrapped in a white drape, not terribly large, but enough that it required being cradled in one arm.
Somewhere amid the sparkling entourage were her siblings, and find them she would. But first things first; Rene’s lovely blue eyes immediately sought out the dais and throne where the princess holding court was seated. As if determined, she set off towards the young princess’ position, a girl her own age. As she moved through the crowd, she recognized faces here and there, and if they made eye contact, she genuflected to each and every one of them, her innocence and smile shining brightly.
As she approached the princess, she waited should a herald introduce her to the royal before stepping forward. With a reverent curtsy, she lowered her eyes to the floor in all her unworthiness before rising. “Your Majesty, I am elated to see you so well, and to be in your presence. If it pleases Her Highness, I have made this for you as a gift from House Nickolaos, to honor the Xanthos monarchy,” she said to the lustrous adolescent seated before her. Unwrapping the item in her arms, she revealed it to be a moderately sized vase. Narrow at the bottom and resting on a circular base, it widened upward, handles on either side attached by their ionic curls. Perhaps most striking was the vase’s color, where most pottery at that point was light with darkly painted characters, this one was the rich red of clay, and instead of the characters being painted, the negative spaces around them were painted, leaving the figures themselves to stand out in the magnificent hue of the earthenware itself. Depicted on the vase were two females, adorned in hand-detailed chitons and crowns, one taller than the other, the Xanthos sisters themselves, immortalized in such a fashion.
Perhaps it was perceived as unmitigated presumptuous gall, that the lesser daughter of the House and likely the most unimportant of all nobility should prostrate herself at the feet of royalty, but Rene knew only a desire to be gracious and supportive. She extended it towards the princess, for either herself or an attendant to collect, waiting with baited breath for either acceptance, or rejection.
Like any predator, Lesley could practically smell fear, and the room had a distinctly different mood than the other court he'd guarded several months ago. The ladies were all shaken to a greater or lesser extent, or maybe some were better at hiding it than others. All except Danii, unsurprising, a lady he didn't recognize who just looked pissed off, and Elysia, who prowled the room with a hint of predator around her as well, or maybe not. He couldn't tell, and that annoyed him. Purposeful, at any rate. He also didn't know her well enough to know whether she simply had a stiffer spine than other women, or whether she was simply one of those people who's emotions took a back seat whenever there was work to be done. If she was a predator, though, it was in the political arena - she wasn't a physical threat, and therefore it wasn't his business. The girl who'd flinched from her - Marietta, wasn't it? - looked like she would have cringed from a kitten if it startled her, that didn't mean anything where his assessment of Elysia was concerned.
No, he did recognize that other lady, Lesley corrected himself. He didn't know who she was, but she'd been at the event at the Scholeo, and she'd looked pissed off there, too. Maybe she was just a grouch. Maybe she had reason to be angry with someone here. He mentally flagged her as a possible cause of a disruption, and continued scanning the room.
The men were, unsurprisingly, better at taking the recent violence in the streets in stride, though there was still a good deal of tension among them as well. Raf was annoying Pavlos, obviously, though he didn't overhear the words. Perfectly normal and nothing to worry about. A young man caught his eye; he was pretty sure he'd caught a whiff of anxiety, but he was clearly doing his best to man up, so Les chalked it up to youth and inexperience.
The serving girl who gave their little trio a confused look caught his attention, too, but he didn't recognize her. It could just be the oddity of three guards bunched together had her concerned; it could be that she was observant enough to notice that one of them wasn't armed. It could have been the expression on Dima's face; but he thought not - she hadn't looked worried, just that spark of recognition and then confusion. When the nervous-looking nobleman stopped to talk to her, he mentally flagged them both to keep track of. Maybe it was something. Maybe it was nothing. If it was nothing, then nothing would happen, but if it was something, Lesley wasn't interested in being surprised.
He had to move. Dima still hadn't answered him, but Lesley could follow his eyes and guess the answer anyway. Hmm. He reached over and squeezed his friend on the shoulder. "Dima. You've got my look on your face. Try to tone it down, you'll scare the ladies." He could guess why Hector hadn't given him a sword to go with that uniform. He was half-tempted to rectify that, but only half. Chaos was fun, but setting his friend up for failure was just mean. Advice given, and not particularly caring if it was heeded, the princess's bodyguard finally headed over to where he was actually supposed to be.
His eye was caught by the painting on the vase being offered to the princess. Interesting, and well executed, too. Lesley could usually split his attention decently well - it was focusing on a single thing that was difficult - but unfortunately he couldn't look two places at once. Also unfortunately, his mind was doing that annoying thing where it insisted on mixing up priorities. He did at least remember that it was the job of one of her female attendants to take the gift and put it somewhere safe. Hopefully nothing untoward was about to happen, though he still trusted his reflexes if it did. Sometimes it seemed like his reflexes were actually better when he was half-distracted. He didn't recognize the scene on the vase, either - not two of the muses, he was sure. Of course, he had never met Persephone, and so the intended meaning of the art simply didn't occur to him.
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Like any predator, Lesley could practically smell fear, and the room had a distinctly different mood than the other court he'd guarded several months ago. The ladies were all shaken to a greater or lesser extent, or maybe some were better at hiding it than others. All except Danii, unsurprising, a lady he didn't recognize who just looked pissed off, and Elysia, who prowled the room with a hint of predator around her as well, or maybe not. He couldn't tell, and that annoyed him. Purposeful, at any rate. He also didn't know her well enough to know whether she simply had a stiffer spine than other women, or whether she was simply one of those people who's emotions took a back seat whenever there was work to be done. If she was a predator, though, it was in the political arena - she wasn't a physical threat, and therefore it wasn't his business. The girl who'd flinched from her - Marietta, wasn't it? - looked like she would have cringed from a kitten if it startled her, that didn't mean anything where his assessment of Elysia was concerned.
No, he did recognize that other lady, Lesley corrected himself. He didn't know who she was, but she'd been at the event at the Scholeo, and she'd looked pissed off there, too. Maybe she was just a grouch. Maybe she had reason to be angry with someone here. He mentally flagged her as a possible cause of a disruption, and continued scanning the room.
The men were, unsurprisingly, better at taking the recent violence in the streets in stride, though there was still a good deal of tension among them as well. Raf was annoying Pavlos, obviously, though he didn't overhear the words. Perfectly normal and nothing to worry about. A young man caught his eye; he was pretty sure he'd caught a whiff of anxiety, but he was clearly doing his best to man up, so Les chalked it up to youth and inexperience.
The serving girl who gave their little trio a confused look caught his attention, too, but he didn't recognize her. It could just be the oddity of three guards bunched together had her concerned; it could be that she was observant enough to notice that one of them wasn't armed. It could have been the expression on Dima's face; but he thought not - she hadn't looked worried, just that spark of recognition and then confusion. When the nervous-looking nobleman stopped to talk to her, he mentally flagged them both to keep track of. Maybe it was something. Maybe it was nothing. If it was nothing, then nothing would happen, but if it was something, Lesley wasn't interested in being surprised.
He had to move. Dima still hadn't answered him, but Lesley could follow his eyes and guess the answer anyway. Hmm. He reached over and squeezed his friend on the shoulder. "Dima. You've got my look on your face. Try to tone it down, you'll scare the ladies." He could guess why Hector hadn't given him a sword to go with that uniform. He was half-tempted to rectify that, but only half. Chaos was fun, but setting his friend up for failure was just mean. Advice given, and not particularly caring if it was heeded, the princess's bodyguard finally headed over to where he was actually supposed to be.
His eye was caught by the painting on the vase being offered to the princess. Interesting, and well executed, too. Lesley could usually split his attention decently well - it was focusing on a single thing that was difficult - but unfortunately he couldn't look two places at once. Also unfortunately, his mind was doing that annoying thing where it insisted on mixing up priorities. He did at least remember that it was the job of one of her female attendants to take the gift and put it somewhere safe. Hopefully nothing untoward was about to happen, though he still trusted his reflexes if it did. Sometimes it seemed like his reflexes were actually better when he was half-distracted. He didn't recognize the scene on the vase, either - not two of the muses, he was sure. Of course, he had never met Persephone, and so the intended meaning of the art simply didn't occur to him.
Like any predator, Lesley could practically smell fear, and the room had a distinctly different mood than the other court he'd guarded several months ago. The ladies were all shaken to a greater or lesser extent, or maybe some were better at hiding it than others. All except Danii, unsurprising, a lady he didn't recognize who just looked pissed off, and Elysia, who prowled the room with a hint of predator around her as well, or maybe not. He couldn't tell, and that annoyed him. Purposeful, at any rate. He also didn't know her well enough to know whether she simply had a stiffer spine than other women, or whether she was simply one of those people who's emotions took a back seat whenever there was work to be done. If she was a predator, though, it was in the political arena - she wasn't a physical threat, and therefore it wasn't his business. The girl who'd flinched from her - Marietta, wasn't it? - looked like she would have cringed from a kitten if it startled her, that didn't mean anything where his assessment of Elysia was concerned.
No, he did recognize that other lady, Lesley corrected himself. He didn't know who she was, but she'd been at the event at the Scholeo, and she'd looked pissed off there, too. Maybe she was just a grouch. Maybe she had reason to be angry with someone here. He mentally flagged her as a possible cause of a disruption, and continued scanning the room.
The men were, unsurprisingly, better at taking the recent violence in the streets in stride, though there was still a good deal of tension among them as well. Raf was annoying Pavlos, obviously, though he didn't overhear the words. Perfectly normal and nothing to worry about. A young man caught his eye; he was pretty sure he'd caught a whiff of anxiety, but he was clearly doing his best to man up, so Les chalked it up to youth and inexperience.
The serving girl who gave their little trio a confused look caught his attention, too, but he didn't recognize her. It could just be the oddity of three guards bunched together had her concerned; it could be that she was observant enough to notice that one of them wasn't armed. It could have been the expression on Dima's face; but he thought not - she hadn't looked worried, just that spark of recognition and then confusion. When the nervous-looking nobleman stopped to talk to her, he mentally flagged them both to keep track of. Maybe it was something. Maybe it was nothing. If it was nothing, then nothing would happen, but if it was something, Lesley wasn't interested in being surprised.
He had to move. Dima still hadn't answered him, but Lesley could follow his eyes and guess the answer anyway. Hmm. He reached over and squeezed his friend on the shoulder. "Dima. You've got my look on your face. Try to tone it down, you'll scare the ladies." He could guess why Hector hadn't given him a sword to go with that uniform. He was half-tempted to rectify that, but only half. Chaos was fun, but setting his friend up for failure was just mean. Advice given, and not particularly caring if it was heeded, the princess's bodyguard finally headed over to where he was actually supposed to be.
His eye was caught by the painting on the vase being offered to the princess. Interesting, and well executed, too. Lesley could usually split his attention decently well - it was focusing on a single thing that was difficult - but unfortunately he couldn't look two places at once. Also unfortunately, his mind was doing that annoying thing where it insisted on mixing up priorities. He did at least remember that it was the job of one of her female attendants to take the gift and put it somewhere safe. Hopefully nothing untoward was about to happen, though he still trusted his reflexes if it did. Sometimes it seemed like his reflexes were actually better when he was half-distracted. He didn't recognize the scene on the vase, either - not two of the muses, he was sure. Of course, he had never met Persephone, and so the intended meaning of the art simply didn't occur to him.
Cicero spared a glance down at where Elysia’s hand brushed across his chest, expecting to see soot or something equally offensive that she was brushing away. He hadn’t been able to resist calling by the house, much to her dismay, and so the Master Informer now wore an intriguing fragrance of cedar underscored with notes of ash and ruin. He thought it was rather fitting, in a flimsy, poetical sense. Giving Elysia a nod of approval as she made to slip deftly through the crowd, Cicero’s gaze followed her for a few moments, and he glanced over to where Lord Elias sat next to the princess his expression impassive where it rested on the Stravos boy for a few moments.
Today would be a good day, one where he could take some pleasure in his work, he hoped.
Clasping his hands behind his back, the spymaster prowled around the edge of the room, taking his usual assessment of those faces present and those conspicuously not. He had written personally to those Lords he knew favoured the Xanthos to ensure they would be here to provide a show of support for Princess Emilia’s first court session. In a lapse of memory most unlike him, he had entirely forgotten to contact those whose loyalties were slightly murkier. Perhaps it was a side effect of the smoke.
As his gaze roamed over the Athenian nobility's faces, Cicero made a mark of those persons of interest. The Lord Pavlos, looking put upon by his wife's presence, the master informer arched a brow and gave the smallest of bows as he passed them by. The lord’s brother was of more interest to Cicero today, one potential thorn in the side of all that needed to transpire. The master informer followed the golden-haired lord's progress as he approached Princess Emilia and Lord Elias upon his arrival.
Watching the interaction between the three for a few moments, it was a simple diversion in his cause that saw him drift closer to the Captain of the White Shields, pausing but a moment to set down his cup and make a show of picking up at another as he spared a word for the soldier.
“All is well, Sir Hector?” Cicero did not know the uniformed guards in the hall well enough to mark every one. Between the efforts of the man he spoke to and the Antonis Head, they had endeavoured to ensure at least two-thirds of the soldiers in the room were placed there by them and that the Stravos men who had not been dispatched to war were more than matched in number. If Lord Elias were to attempt to force his will, then it would not end well for him or his family at this point. That was not Cicero’s sphere of expertise though, so once he had assured himself that the Captain had his pieces in order, he moved away once more.
The hall was filling up, a thick tension blanketing the chambers even as the nobility played at small talk. Cicero noted the way that curious glances were sent toward the Princess who had been hidden from them so long and moving, so he was standing directly in young Emilia’s eye-line, he gave her an encouraging nod. She knew what to do. He just hoped her nerves would not fail her.
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Cicero spared a glance down at where Elysia’s hand brushed across his chest, expecting to see soot or something equally offensive that she was brushing away. He hadn’t been able to resist calling by the house, much to her dismay, and so the Master Informer now wore an intriguing fragrance of cedar underscored with notes of ash and ruin. He thought it was rather fitting, in a flimsy, poetical sense. Giving Elysia a nod of approval as she made to slip deftly through the crowd, Cicero’s gaze followed her for a few moments, and he glanced over to where Lord Elias sat next to the princess his expression impassive where it rested on the Stravos boy for a few moments.
Today would be a good day, one where he could take some pleasure in his work, he hoped.
Clasping his hands behind his back, the spymaster prowled around the edge of the room, taking his usual assessment of those faces present and those conspicuously not. He had written personally to those Lords he knew favoured the Xanthos to ensure they would be here to provide a show of support for Princess Emilia’s first court session. In a lapse of memory most unlike him, he had entirely forgotten to contact those whose loyalties were slightly murkier. Perhaps it was a side effect of the smoke.
As his gaze roamed over the Athenian nobility's faces, Cicero made a mark of those persons of interest. The Lord Pavlos, looking put upon by his wife's presence, the master informer arched a brow and gave the smallest of bows as he passed them by. The lord’s brother was of more interest to Cicero today, one potential thorn in the side of all that needed to transpire. The master informer followed the golden-haired lord's progress as he approached Princess Emilia and Lord Elias upon his arrival.
Watching the interaction between the three for a few moments, it was a simple diversion in his cause that saw him drift closer to the Captain of the White Shields, pausing but a moment to set down his cup and make a show of picking up at another as he spared a word for the soldier.
“All is well, Sir Hector?” Cicero did not know the uniformed guards in the hall well enough to mark every one. Between the efforts of the man he spoke to and the Antonis Head, they had endeavoured to ensure at least two-thirds of the soldiers in the room were placed there by them and that the Stravos men who had not been dispatched to war were more than matched in number. If Lord Elias were to attempt to force his will, then it would not end well for him or his family at this point. That was not Cicero’s sphere of expertise though, so once he had assured himself that the Captain had his pieces in order, he moved away once more.
The hall was filling up, a thick tension blanketing the chambers even as the nobility played at small talk. Cicero noted the way that curious glances were sent toward the Princess who had been hidden from them so long and moving, so he was standing directly in young Emilia’s eye-line, he gave her an encouraging nod. She knew what to do. He just hoped her nerves would not fail her.
Cicero spared a glance down at where Elysia’s hand brushed across his chest, expecting to see soot or something equally offensive that she was brushing away. He hadn’t been able to resist calling by the house, much to her dismay, and so the Master Informer now wore an intriguing fragrance of cedar underscored with notes of ash and ruin. He thought it was rather fitting, in a flimsy, poetical sense. Giving Elysia a nod of approval as she made to slip deftly through the crowd, Cicero’s gaze followed her for a few moments, and he glanced over to where Lord Elias sat next to the princess his expression impassive where it rested on the Stravos boy for a few moments.
Today would be a good day, one where he could take some pleasure in his work, he hoped.
Clasping his hands behind his back, the spymaster prowled around the edge of the room, taking his usual assessment of those faces present and those conspicuously not. He had written personally to those Lords he knew favoured the Xanthos to ensure they would be here to provide a show of support for Princess Emilia’s first court session. In a lapse of memory most unlike him, he had entirely forgotten to contact those whose loyalties were slightly murkier. Perhaps it was a side effect of the smoke.
As his gaze roamed over the Athenian nobility's faces, Cicero made a mark of those persons of interest. The Lord Pavlos, looking put upon by his wife's presence, the master informer arched a brow and gave the smallest of bows as he passed them by. The lord’s brother was of more interest to Cicero today, one potential thorn in the side of all that needed to transpire. The master informer followed the golden-haired lord's progress as he approached Princess Emilia and Lord Elias upon his arrival.
Watching the interaction between the three for a few moments, it was a simple diversion in his cause that saw him drift closer to the Captain of the White Shields, pausing but a moment to set down his cup and make a show of picking up at another as he spared a word for the soldier.
“All is well, Sir Hector?” Cicero did not know the uniformed guards in the hall well enough to mark every one. Between the efforts of the man he spoke to and the Antonis Head, they had endeavoured to ensure at least two-thirds of the soldiers in the room were placed there by them and that the Stravos men who had not been dispatched to war were more than matched in number. If Lord Elias were to attempt to force his will, then it would not end well for him or his family at this point. That was not Cicero’s sphere of expertise though, so once he had assured himself that the Captain had his pieces in order, he moved away once more.
The hall was filling up, a thick tension blanketing the chambers even as the nobility played at small talk. Cicero noted the way that curious glances were sent toward the Princess who had been hidden from them so long and moving, so he was standing directly in young Emilia’s eye-line, he gave her an encouraging nod. She knew what to do. He just hoped her nerves would not fail her.
Curveball Change in the Winds
The quiet buzz of conversation and shared tales of woe following the terrible uprising gone not days before is punctuated by darted glances towards the young Princess who has scarce been seen in public since her sister’s disappearance. Her newly betrothed sits beside her, but it is Emilia who draws the attention.
As if spurred into action by the weight of so many gazes upon her, the Princess waves a delicate hand and there is the sharp sound of a bell that cuts clear through the chatter. Princess Emilia will make her first court address as regent.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
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The quiet buzz of conversation and shared tales of woe following the terrible uprising gone not days before is punctuated by darted glances towards the young Princess who has scarce been seen in public since her sister’s disappearance. Her newly betrothed sits beside her, but it is Emilia who draws the attention.
As if spurred into action by the weight of so many gazes upon her, the Princess waves a delicate hand and there is the sharp sound of a bell that cuts clear through the chatter. Princess Emilia will make her first court address as regent.
Curveball Change in the Winds
The quiet buzz of conversation and shared tales of woe following the terrible uprising gone not days before is punctuated by darted glances towards the young Princess who has scarce been seen in public since her sister’s disappearance. Her newly betrothed sits beside her, but it is Emilia who draws the attention.
As if spurred into action by the weight of so many gazes upon her, the Princess waves a delicate hand and there is the sharp sound of a bell that cuts clear through the chatter. Princess Emilia will make her first court address as regent.
