"If you remain perfectly still, your presence would make an excellent addition to my landscape," the higher pitched and sweet-as-honey voice came from behind the Noble as he glided across the terrace and observed the paradisal gardens of House Nikolaos. In either his preoccupation, or arrogance, he'd moved beyond the doors in such a manner that he'd failed to notice an adolescent female sitting just off the left of the magnificently arched doorway. Emerging from behind a stand, the youngest of the House, rose, and set her black paint brush down where she'd been inking out a scene of the garden on one of her handmade urns, an elegant piece with a narrow base, widening at its top and framed on either side by graceful curved handles.

Appearing in a lovely one shouldered peplos the color of the bluest Mediterranean skies, its kolpos lightly tufted over a gold belt, she smiled. While Rene was not actively included in the family's political or business affairs, she was well-schooled enough to know both the game and the players. Approaching the man now towering amid her garden scene, she genuflected, enough to be respectful but without any absurdly sycophantic prostration. "My Lord Pavlos, you are looking well. To what do we owe the great pleasure of your visit?"

Having not spent much time around the man, Rene could hardly identify his baseline of decorum, let alone irritation or exasperation. Should any of his annoyance slip through, she didn't take it personally. When one already accepted a lower standing in life, it was nearly impossible for any to inject further patronization. Entirely too easily, she let his unspoken grievances roll off a creamy shoulder. With her usual angelic smile, genuine enough to reach her eyes, her head dipped in a subtle nod.

"That is correct, M'Lord. My father was called away, but should be returning shortly," she replied. "No disturbance at all. I was merely working on one of my pieces," a slender hand motioned back behind her to the stand where the vase she'd been painting sat on a drape. "His Lordship nearly became a permanent fixture to the piece. Perhaps one day, you will allow me the honor of a portrait." Rene paused summarily as one of the house servants hurried out across the terrace, and dutifully filled Pavlos' chalice, before bowing to the two and moving back off to the side, where he would remain should the Noble call upon him again. Rene offered her own thanks to the servant with a polite nod and smile before her stunning blue eyes vacillated back to Pavlos. "It would be my honor to be his Lordship's hostess until my father returns," she offered, abandoning her own pursuits in order to represent the household to the best of her abilities, limited as they were. "I shall have a feast prepared for you and my father over which to discuss your dealings as well, if that is acceptable?" Rene's secret aspirations to be a more included member of the House worked their way to the surface. It wasn't much, but it was a start, if she could prove to them she was capable, even just by exemplifying the most superb of hosts.

As she felt the older man's gaze drink her in, as if one would scrutinize excellent conformation of well-bred livestock, she found it strange. The Nickolaos household was perhaps one of the only which had been constructed on totality of love. Her father had wedded a common woman, her mother, despite the nay-saying and derogation he'd undoubtedly been subjected to, marrying beneath his station. Naive as she was, Rene had no other foundation with which to base her expectations on, beyond the monogamy and undying love she knew to be her parents' relationship. Even still, she wasn't completely unaware that her mother had groomed her sisters for something entirely different, a curious juxtaposition.

Having adopted her low standing in the House, Rene offered a gracious smile, lovely that it was. "His Lordship flatters me with such praise, but my sisters are far more suitable as mates than I, Dione especially. She will make a very beautiful, insightful and keen addition to the House into which she ultimately marries," she recited, fully believing it herself. "I have not yet been called upon to serve my father's House. But one day, I hope to be as my parents are, united in their love for each other. You should envy them such love, M'Lord," she added, painfully altruistic, but the entirety of her convictions on the matter. And being that she was hardly a power player for House Nickolaos, it seemed hopeful that she would not be cast into an arranged marriage, as so many her age were, that rather she be given free choice in the matter.

The discussion ushered a thought into her lovely head, expression brightening for a second. "To celebrate the friendship of our Houses, I should like to gift his Lordship with something, if he permits?"

As Pavlos indulged her with his flattery, the adolescent’s cheeks pinkened slightly, vibrant eyes dropping to the ground momentarily as if she worked to digest the compliments. Lips fixed in a seemingly permanent smile, she gave a very small and almost bashful chuckle. ”A generous offer. Your wife is a fortunate woman, and had his Lordship any sons, they would undoubtedly honor his House,” she responded jovially. It was a rather curious discussion, considering her own parents had not seen fit to previously address any inclinations of courtship. Accepting the context as a generous laudation, Rene’s youthful and flawless face flashed with gratitude. ”As as been pointed out, perhaps one day I shall likewise bring honor to my father’s House.”

As the Noble produced a coin purse, the teen’s eyes dropped to it, drawn by the noise it made, the jingle of its contents, yet she made no move to take it. ”I would be elated to have his Lordship be my very first paying customer, but permit me the opportunity to complete the piece first. It seems unethical to accept payment prior to services being rendered,” she explained her reluctance. ”How would you have your portrait appear? As you are, here and now? Or in your most ornate armor, with resplendent plumed helmet, shield on arm? It would venerate my career to commission this portrait, as you have chosen it. I am available at your request,” she noted, already working in her head what the end result might reflect. Keenly, she studied his features, from the curl of his ear, the way it melded into his chiseled jaw line, hard set eyes that seemed amiable, but barely managed to conceal the look of a man cursed with impatience and judgment. The jump of his nose, angle of his cheekbones and shape of his hairline were all fair for her gaze to drift over, committing all of him to memory. Emerging from the near trance-like state in which she regarded her subject, a light smile reappeared. ”His Lordship has rather distinguished features. He will make a very handsome and brave warrior, taking his place immortalized akin to the likes of Hercules and Perseus. I am excited to be the one to laud your accomplishments as such.”

As Pavlos seemed to meld rather seamlessly into the role of model, Rene backed away, dainty little sandals silent on the stone terrace, her steps slow and deliberate. Behind them, from her stand she retrieved her ever-present pad of parchment and pouch of charcoal sticks. As the imperious noble seemed to fancy himself a pose, Rene found a clean sheet, and set to work. Pavlos was haughty indeed, capturing what he believed himself to be like, in a rather commanding stance, in which he easily dominated the landscape, despite the fact it wasn’t even his own home. His regal cape occasionally fluttered about him, face set in determination, as if he stood on the battlefield, undisputed triumphant.

Yet, in a singular moment his concentration broke, boastful posture wavering. Rather than cloaked in the artificial construct of his imagination, he took on the appearance of someone who’s mind and turned in on itself, lost amid a barrage of introspection. For that moment, he was distracted, but by something only he was aware of. Where she’d been sketching the strong pillar of a man, a monolith of Grecian power and might, he suddenly appeared to...flounder, as if vulnerability started leaking out. It was in those moments, he became human, a man laden with all of the nuances of human emotion, pesky as they were.

Rene’s fingers had been working frantically to capture the shapes initially, smoothing lines into more finalized outlines, little details added here and there such as the way his shorter hair spiked down his forehead, the slope of his shoulder and crease in his brow. But at that second, he seemed to waiver, the heroic and righteous warrior succumbing to something entirely more susceptible. The adolescent paused, watching the man almost wriggle beneath the pressure of his own expectation.

She made a second sketch off to the side….a small quick doodle, of the great Lord Pavlos looking injured and hurt, looking reflective and defenseless. At the time she wasn’t sure why, as nobody wanted art that looked human. They wanted art that looked god-like, powerful, domineering, flawless. But there was something in that moment, that little snippet of humanity that happened to escape Pavlos sans his permission. It was a far more beautiful capture than any heroic pose ever could be. It was impromptu, unstaged, completely candid, and it was magnificent. Somewhere in the recesses of Rene’s mind, a little ember sparked into existence. She absolutely loved that aspect of capture, that subtle little reveal where people were caught being completely people, unawares, as if they put down the masks they were all wearing, maybe tired of the charade, or maybe out of sheer will. Whatever it was, this was something she would have to remember, to suss out those moments when no one was looking, where they were captured in sketch, going about their lives, without the artificial poise and pomp of performance.

Sensing the man was rapidly deflating, and it was something his ego was thoroughly unaccustomed to, Rene did her best to put the wind back in his sails. Her words weren’t those of sugar-coated flattery. “You are doing fine, in fact….splendid,” she said quietly in reassurance, continuing her rapid drawing to put as much of him down on the paper as she could. She dare not point out the slip in his decorum. For a proud man and soldier, that was akin to castration. “I intend to capture his Lordship in all of his glory. I think you will be pleased,” she added, imagining already a variety of media she could use to bring her vision to reality.

And then, Rene stopped her diligent portrait, smiling gratefully towards the noble. “I sincerely appreciate you agreeing to this, M’Lord,” she admitted endearingly. “There is a lot I can do, and can offer, but I have never been given the chance. Until now. Thank you. You will not be disappointed. I promise.”

Hopefully he felt better, that she’d thrown out a bit of her own baggage. If that helped a connection between the artist and her subject, so be it, and if it helped restore a man to the apparent fragility of his confidence, even better. Rene had no desire to see suffering, even in its most minute form. With the reciprocity of exposure out of the way, the teen resumed her study, once more taking to the paper in fierce determination.

Rene had been dutifully sketching out Pavlos’ grand demonstration of his success and potency, blue eyes moving rapidly between the imperious noble and her parchment, working to record as much detail as she could. His demeanor flickered like a flame, shifting from one moment to the next, between a myriad of emotions. In the time it took for the teen’s intent gaze to look at her sketch and back up, he’d shifted from bravado to insecurity to anger and so on. In light of his growing agitation, she aimed to work faster, the charcoal stick in her fingers dancing fluidly across the parchment in graceful sweeping arcs and lines. When she felt she’d sufficiently captured enough to complete the job, without risking undue further strain on his wavering temperament, Rene put her parchment face down to keep it shielded from view, and moved back towards Pavlos. She flashed a calm smile. “I have everything I need, thank you, M’Lord,” she replied.

The man’s scathing irritation was incomprehensible to Rene, as he was wealthy, had a nice family, held an esteemed position, a roof overhead and food on the table. What could one possibly find to be angry about? “My father should be returning shortly. Would you care for more wine? Or a light appetizer to satiate your hunger until the meal is ready?”. Off to the side where the servant holding the wine decanter had been standing, he hurried towards the two, halting a meter or so out so as not to crowd them should the noble decline a refill of his goblet. Rene made no move to personally intercede, as she still had charcoal on the fingers of her right hand, and could not see the situation ending well if she accidentally got any on the lord, or his regal cape as it billowed around his form. “Or would his Lordship prefer to be left in peace until then? He seems ..…distracted,” she added, cutting a sideways glance towards the rolling gardens around the estate. “There are apricot, nectarine and cherry trees in the garden. The fruit they bear is delectable,” she added for further enticement, as she herself sampled the fruit of said trees daily.

That sounded as much like an invitation as one could ever hope to obtain from the tight-lipped noble with chiseled features and an almost icy glare, rounding out the perpetual atmosphere of patronization. Were Rene more engrossed in the proceedings of the court, that the treacheries of such mattered, she might have been offended or put-off by Pavlos’ snide demeanor. Unfortunately for him, his ill temper had little to no effect on her, as she merely let his sully attitude roll from her shoulder like water off the wing of a swan. With a genuine smile and nod of the head, she folded her hands in front of her and almost started to bow, just a slight acknowledgement as it were. “Of course, M’Lord. If you will excuse me, I shall make the preparations immediately.” As she turned to retreat back inside the palatial estate of Nickolaos, she tossed another subtle nod to the servant who stood out near the terrace in order to facilitate waiting on Pavlos as he demanded. He promptly filled the lord’s chalice whenever it dipped below half full, never more than a few meters away.

It would be roughly twelve minutes before Rene returned, this time, carrying a silver tray with tea kettle, saucers, cups, milk pot full of fresh cream, lemon wedges, honey jar complete with carved wooden dipper and a water carafe with two cups. Joining Pavlos in the seating area amid the flowing draperies strung up around them, puffing and deflating as wind rushed past them every so often.

“Your meal will be ready shortly. In the meantime, should you tire of the wine, I have brought water, and tea as well,” she offered. “This is a blend of my own creation, if you care to try it. I do make an excellent cup of tea, if I say so myself,” she offered a smidgen of praise for herself, enjoying the endless possibilities when it came to picking various herbs, flowering plants, roots and fruit to try and experiment with in terms of flavor profiles and aromatics. “This one is a toasted rice tea. It has a slightly nutty hint to it, that cuts the bitterness of its green tea base,” she described this particular blend as she elegantly poured the tea with all the refined choreography one expected of a noble. “Would you care for some?” She fell to silent consideration for a second before continuing. “I am curious what his Lordship thinks of the war,” she said finally, a surprising question indeed. Rene extended a cup and saucer towards him in silent query if he were interested, staring across the table at her impatient guest.

When Rene had finished serving tea with all the refined elegance such a dance commanded, and offered a cup of water as well, she sat back in her seat, holding her own saucer and cup delicately. Her eyes of vivid cobalt settled on the noble, a curious and attractive man who always appeared to be just at the verge of a rolling boil beneath his flesh. He harbored what could only be described as a discomfort at having to be civil, or maybe it was just towards her. Either way, Rene would accept his efforts. The youngest Nickolaosi let her eyes pierce the man as he fidgeted and stewed. She was certain that he had once more afforded her a compliment, juxtaposing her against the nobles he frequently encountered at court. Rene smiled luminously, the afternoon sunlight largely held at bay by the gauzy curtains and awnings pinned up across the wooden trellises that framed the empyrean terrace of the mansion they called home.

“That is unfortunate, M’Lord. Perhaps they simply mean to be respectful to your wife?” she offered as an honest hypothesis of his predicament. Some small part of her knew better, with what limited experience she had at court. While Rene was hard-pressed to say anything ill about anyone, ever, she had not gone out of her way to disagree when she heard the court described as a nest of vipers. She held no illusion that she was desired in any capacity, nor that any should believe she sought to elevate her status via the mattress. There were five siblings in line before her as marriage prospects, or dalliances, or whatever role any with ambition should take. “It is my pleasure to entertain his Lordship until my father arrives.”

Before a further utterance could be spoken, several members of the house staff appeared carrying several trays, one containing the meal of fish and fruit that had been requested, the others boasting fresh baked rosemary eliopsomo with olive oil for dipping, fresh fruit, and avgolemono. Carefully they laid it out for the noble, bowing and shuffling off to allow him to eat.

“Guidance?” Rene repeated, finding the critique of the monarchy only slightly surprising, given its immersion in turbulence. “Let us pray to Ares that war is concluded swiftly, and Eirene for peace.” The adolescent watched Pavlos, finding it very believable that he’d spent a lifetime mired in conflict. “Certainly, his Lordship must grow wary of fighting, does he not? Surely some part desires rest?”