There were too many things in Hector's mind. He was far from a scholar or a politician, and yet he felt that his mind was constantly racing to sort away new information and to made decisions based on what he had learned. What was worse was the level of helplessness that he felt in the areas that mattered the most - the lack of control there.

Ariadne had woken up several days before, though her memory had lapses and there were long periods where she was silent and it worried him. It had been some time since he had received a letter from Gregor or Ismene, much of that due to their impromptu residence at Archontiko Antonis. Demi had left to return to Arcana, which offered him some comfort, that she would be a liaison for their guests before they relocated once again. Then again, there was this odd, quiet distance that had been forming between them - both seemed to keep secrets from one another more and more often these days, despite the ties of affection that bound them together.

Many of his recent days were spent at the Palati, offering advice from a militant approach to Princess Emilia that Master Cicero or Lord Alehandros could not offer. Through those efforts, Athenian ships were being prepared for war in Egypt, and forces from Antonis and Xanthos provinces were quietly being redirected to the capital.

Once the armor had been shed and he was left with his thoughts again, an idea took him. He had caught the scent in the gardens, wafting on the chill wind. Amidst the withering vines and browning leaves of winter, he noted a pale green, that seemed covered in frost though none lay on the ground elsewhere.

Sage.

Hector had clutched the newly repotted and definitely stolen plant closer to his chest as Lady Evi collided with him, lifting it out of harms way. The vase was uncracked but the lady before him was clearly shaken by their collision.

"Oh, forgive me, I-"

"I'm sorry, I was just..."

"...should have been looking where I--"

"...wasn't paying attention--"

Their words stumbled over one another, cutting each other off then leaving room for the other to speak in an awkward almost adolescent waltz until Hector cleared his throat with a single, strained laugh.

"Hector," he introduced, noting her name quickly and making the connections in his mind. Clearly a daughter of Alehandros, the name was also mentioned to him by his daughter as she worked to recall the passing days, "Ariadne's father."

Though with a slight delay and the extra preoccupation of cradling the plant in his hand, Hector offered a bow. Years of military training kept the lines of his form straight as a pin, even in this.

Then, as she pointed to the plant, his eyes fell down to it, and the ever so faint burn singed at his cheeks. He...must look ridiculous. But, in truth, he had a reason.

"Yes, I know," he started, a slight awkward laugh escaping a crooked smile as he added, "That is to say, I know she is not awake and...I hope this may help." He held up the plant between them and then pressed one of the leaves between his forefinger and his thumb, rolling it there as he felt the veins of the leave grow sticky.

Instantly, the corridor filled with the pungent and memorable aroma of sage. It was recognizable anywhere. Hector drew his fingers to his nose, breathing it in. Suddenly, memories from a decade ago flooded back as clear as day.

"Ten years ago, I led the White Shields of Arcana to Egypt in the last war. Not long into the conflict, I was injured, badly. I did not wake up even on the return to Athenia. I recall very little of that time, except..."

Hector held out the sage plant between them.

"My brother is a healer and not only did he and my daughters do just as you are doing now, talking and keeping company, he brought in as many strong fragrances as he could. Some pleasant, some not so much." The way Gregor told it, the girls half laughed and half gagged when he all but laid a fresh fish across Hector's face in attempt to wake him. The thought brought a smile to Hector's face, even as his eyes had somewhat glossed over in memory. They focused in once again, looking between her and plant.

"I awoke to the smell of rosemary...but I recall that Lady Marietta enjoys sage tea..."

That would take a touch more explaining, but he had already said too much, he believed, rambling on about the past like a madman. Still, somewhere between his mental and physical fatigue, he could not shake the urge to make this attempt in rousing the young noblewoman that had crossed his path more than once over the years.

"So," he said, trying to tie up the loose ends and get on to the point, "I was hoping to leave this with her, just in case."