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Ophelia swept the room with an eagle eye, her gilden sandals clacking against the polished wood of the floor as she made yet another round. She peered at every trinket, but touched not a thing, for she did not wish to leave fingerprints upon their gleaming surfaces. This was the sixth room to receive a thorough inspection from the de facto lady of the house, the others having passed. At present, the servants were all lined up against the wall of the dining room, anxiously awaiting her verdict.
A cloth of pale blue spidersilk had been draped spread across the table. In the centre, arranged in a vase of white and gold, were a dozen red roses, the symbol of House Condos, and surrounding those roses was a succultant feast. Not wanting her brother's friend to lack for choice, she had ordered many platters of delicious foods prepared so that he might choose what he preferred. With the selection she had provided, there was definitely certain to be something that took his fancy. If he wanted meat, there was both white and red. The seafood was abundant, as were the fruits and vegetables. There was honeyed duck, chicken stuffed with garlic, quail's eggs and crab's leg. The scent of the freshly baked bread was almost ambrosial. Yes, they had done well, it seemed, both in the preparation and presentation of the food.
She gave the servants a small nod, then glided past them once again, positioning herself in the entrance hall. The Captain would arrive at any moment. She had already made certain before inspecting the rooms that her own appearance was more than satisfactory. Her chitton was of a deep wine red, pinned in such a way that one shoulder was exposed, yet all else was left to the imagination. She would never dare expose more than was proper. At her waist she wore her favourite belt, the one made of golden roses with tiny rubies that sparkled in their centres. Rubies glittered in golden settings at her ears and throat, and an aureus circlet perched delicately upon her head, a striking contrast with the dark and lustrous locks that were pinned up in a rose shaped bun.
She had gone to a lot of effort for this particular guest, for her brother had stressed the importance of his visit. He had specifically requested her presence in his barony, a thing that seldom happened, and she was happy to accommodate him. It was nice to be needed, especially by such a private man as her brother. He rarely invited her to his barony, though he had little trouble surrendering that precious privacy for a night of carnal pleasure. Often on her rare visits she would find one woman or another prancing around the halls. Brief fancies, nothing more. Nikos' flings were flames that burned bright and quickly extinguished. She had feared finding such a woman this time, wondering how best she might conceal her brother's latest conquest from Lord Damocles without giving offense to her. After all, should she offend his latest lover, she may risk offending Nikos, and that would never do. She wanted to prove to him that she was worthy of his trust, that she could keep relations between their house and other strong, not that all she knew how to do was cause conflict. Fortunately, she had not been placed in that awkward situation. She had searched the expansive home from top to bottom and found no trace of a hidden harlot. Either her brother had yet to acquire his latest jewel, or he thought it wise to keep it stored somewhere else. After all, Damocles was a man too, and most men liked beautiful women.
"Captain Damocles is at the door, My Lady," one of the servants informed her. "Show him in," was Ophelia's quick response. As the servant departed, the youthful noblewoman straightened her posture and allowed her lips to curl upwards into a welcoming smile. As soon as she caught sight of the man, she dropped a strategic curtsy -- not too low, for that might encourage him to strive above his station, but certainly not shallow enough to be considered a slight, for he was after all a distinguished militant -- and beamed benevolently upon him. "Captain Damocles, what an hour it is to welcome you to Doralis!" her voice was sweet and musical, neither too loud nor too quiet, too high nor too low. "Please accept my brother's sincerest apologies. He wishes me to convey the message that business detains him in one of our provinces, thus he cannot be here tonight, but he should arrive tomorrow. He has asked me to host you tonight, I do hope that will be alright with you?"
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Once, twice, three times.
Ophelia swept the room with an eagle eye, her gilden sandals clacking against the polished wood of the floor as she made yet another round. She peered at every trinket, but touched not a thing, for she did not wish to leave fingerprints upon their gleaming surfaces. This was the sixth room to receive a thorough inspection from the de facto lady of the house, the others having passed. At present, the servants were all lined up against the wall of the dining room, anxiously awaiting her verdict.
A cloth of pale blue spidersilk had been draped spread across the table. In the centre, arranged in a vase of white and gold, were a dozen red roses, the symbol of House Condos, and surrounding those roses was a succultant feast. Not wanting her brother's friend to lack for choice, she had ordered many platters of delicious foods prepared so that he might choose what he preferred. With the selection she had provided, there was definitely certain to be something that took his fancy. If he wanted meat, there was both white and red. The seafood was abundant, as were the fruits and vegetables. There was honeyed duck, chicken stuffed with garlic, quail's eggs and crab's leg. The scent of the freshly baked bread was almost ambrosial. Yes, they had done well, it seemed, both in the preparation and presentation of the food.
She gave the servants a small nod, then glided past them once again, positioning herself in the entrance hall. The Captain would arrive at any moment. She had already made certain before inspecting the rooms that her own appearance was more than satisfactory. Her chitton was of a deep wine red, pinned in such a way that one shoulder was exposed, yet all else was left to the imagination. She would never dare expose more than was proper. At her waist she wore her favourite belt, the one made of golden roses with tiny rubies that sparkled in their centres. Rubies glittered in golden settings at her ears and throat, and an aureus circlet perched delicately upon her head, a striking contrast with the dark and lustrous locks that were pinned up in a rose shaped bun.
She had gone to a lot of effort for this particular guest, for her brother had stressed the importance of his visit. He had specifically requested her presence in his barony, a thing that seldom happened, and she was happy to accommodate him. It was nice to be needed, especially by such a private man as her brother. He rarely invited her to his barony, though he had little trouble surrendering that precious privacy for a night of carnal pleasure. Often on her rare visits she would find one woman or another prancing around the halls. Brief fancies, nothing more. Nikos' flings were flames that burned bright and quickly extinguished. She had feared finding such a woman this time, wondering how best she might conceal her brother's latest conquest from Lord Damocles without giving offense to her. After all, should she offend his latest lover, she may risk offending Nikos, and that would never do. She wanted to prove to him that she was worthy of his trust, that she could keep relations between their house and other strong, not that all she knew how to do was cause conflict. Fortunately, she had not been placed in that awkward situation. She had searched the expansive home from top to bottom and found no trace of a hidden harlot. Either her brother had yet to acquire his latest jewel, or he thought it wise to keep it stored somewhere else. After all, Damocles was a man too, and most men liked beautiful women.
"Captain Damocles is at the door, My Lady," one of the servants informed her. "Show him in," was Ophelia's quick response. As the servant departed, the youthful noblewoman straightened her posture and allowed her lips to curl upwards into a welcoming smile. As soon as she caught sight of the man, she dropped a strategic curtsy -- not too low, for that might encourage him to strive above his station, but certainly not shallow enough to be considered a slight, for he was after all a distinguished militant -- and beamed benevolently upon him. "Captain Damocles, what an hour it is to welcome you to Doralis!" her voice was sweet and musical, neither too loud nor too quiet, too high nor too low. "Please accept my brother's sincerest apologies. He wishes me to convey the message that business detains him in one of our provinces, thus he cannot be here tonight, but he should arrive tomorrow. He has asked me to host you tonight, I do hope that will be alright with you?"
Once, twice, three times.
Ophelia swept the room with an eagle eye, her gilden sandals clacking against the polished wood of the floor as she made yet another round. She peered at every trinket, but touched not a thing, for she did not wish to leave fingerprints upon their gleaming surfaces. This was the sixth room to receive a thorough inspection from the de facto lady of the house, the others having passed. At present, the servants were all lined up against the wall of the dining room, anxiously awaiting her verdict.
A cloth of pale blue spidersilk had been draped spread across the table. In the centre, arranged in a vase of white and gold, were a dozen red roses, the symbol of House Condos, and surrounding those roses was a succultant feast. Not wanting her brother's friend to lack for choice, she had ordered many platters of delicious foods prepared so that he might choose what he preferred. With the selection she had provided, there was definitely certain to be something that took his fancy. If he wanted meat, there was both white and red. The seafood was abundant, as were the fruits and vegetables. There was honeyed duck, chicken stuffed with garlic, quail's eggs and crab's leg. The scent of the freshly baked bread was almost ambrosial. Yes, they had done well, it seemed, both in the preparation and presentation of the food.
She gave the servants a small nod, then glided past them once again, positioning herself in the entrance hall. The Captain would arrive at any moment. She had already made certain before inspecting the rooms that her own appearance was more than satisfactory. Her chitton was of a deep wine red, pinned in such a way that one shoulder was exposed, yet all else was left to the imagination. She would never dare expose more than was proper. At her waist she wore her favourite belt, the one made of golden roses with tiny rubies that sparkled in their centres. Rubies glittered in golden settings at her ears and throat, and an aureus circlet perched delicately upon her head, a striking contrast with the dark and lustrous locks that were pinned up in a rose shaped bun.
She had gone to a lot of effort for this particular guest, for her brother had stressed the importance of his visit. He had specifically requested her presence in his barony, a thing that seldom happened, and she was happy to accommodate him. It was nice to be needed, especially by such a private man as her brother. He rarely invited her to his barony, though he had little trouble surrendering that precious privacy for a night of carnal pleasure. Often on her rare visits she would find one woman or another prancing around the halls. Brief fancies, nothing more. Nikos' flings were flames that burned bright and quickly extinguished. She had feared finding such a woman this time, wondering how best she might conceal her brother's latest conquest from Lord Damocles without giving offense to her. After all, should she offend his latest lover, she may risk offending Nikos, and that would never do. She wanted to prove to him that she was worthy of his trust, that she could keep relations between their house and other strong, not that all she knew how to do was cause conflict. Fortunately, she had not been placed in that awkward situation. She had searched the expansive home from top to bottom and found no trace of a hidden harlot. Either her brother had yet to acquire his latest jewel, or he thought it wise to keep it stored somewhere else. After all, Damocles was a man too, and most men liked beautiful women.
"Captain Damocles is at the door, My Lady," one of the servants informed her. "Show him in," was Ophelia's quick response. As the servant departed, the youthful noblewoman straightened her posture and allowed her lips to curl upwards into a welcoming smile. As soon as she caught sight of the man, she dropped a strategic curtsy -- not too low, for that might encourage him to strive above his station, but certainly not shallow enough to be considered a slight, for he was after all a distinguished militant -- and beamed benevolently upon him. "Captain Damocles, what an hour it is to welcome you to Doralis!" her voice was sweet and musical, neither too loud nor too quiet, too high nor too low. "Please accept my brother's sincerest apologies. He wishes me to convey the message that business detains him in one of our provinces, thus he cannot be here tonight, but he should arrive tomorrow. He has asked me to host you tonight, I do hope that will be alright with you?"