Coming down the private dock of the Nickolaos family’s expansive estate came the guard once more, this time with two females in tow. One of them appeared to be in her mid-to-late 50’s, and wore the earthenware colors of a house attendant. The other was far younger, not even out of her adolescence yet, radiant and clean, beaming excitedly and bristling with energy. In stark contrast to the steely reserve of the guard, and the stern displeasure written all over the servant, Adrestus’ youngest sister bubbled with enthusiasm, immaculately polished in a rich burgundy colored chiton, sans himation, shoulders gathered and neckline just enough for a simple yet tasteful pendant of a seashell hanging down her décolleté. Vivid azure eyes drank in the crewmate of her brother’s, evaluating him at first glance for the most basic of details; his facial expression, body language, level of engagement and so on. Even if he was unhappy with the arrangement, she opted to focus on the merriment of venturing out for once without any of the usual lineup of household staff.

The middle aged woman’s gaze instantly narrowed on the hooligan standing before her, wholly unimpressed by his devil-may-care affect. While she was technically a servant in the Nickolaos house, she did have long-standing tenure, and had always been the primary caregiver of the baby of the family, Rene. As such, she took quite seriously her responsibilities in keeping the girl safe, and while she would never have challenged Adrestus outright...at least….not too loudly anyway, she harbored considerable concerns with this plan, and had no qualms making those concerns known.

Summoning the authority she wielded as far as Lady Rene was concerned, she jabbed a scolding finger towards the brash young man, never a good choice as a guardian, especially when it came to attractive girls. “I must defer to Lord Adrestus’ trust in this matter, but consider yourself fairly warned. Should any ill fortune or injury befall the Lady Rene, you may answer for it with your own neck,” she issued the ultimatum.

“I shall be fine, Melba,” Rene’s voice sang, emerging from behind the woman and towards her escort for the day, giddiness in each step. “Adre trusts him,” she added for good measure. The handmaid’s facial features remained flat, clearly unswayed by her young mistress’ attempts at reassurance. With a small satchel across her body, Rene eagerly surveyed the boat they would be taking to the capital, lovely smile flashing towards Adre’s crewmate. “Hello! I am Rene.”

With all the makings of a noble, or perhaps simply because she requested assistance in boarding the craft, Rene held out a small flawless hand for her host to take as something to hold onto before stepping off the pier.

“M’Lady, remember your father’s instructions when out among the people,” Melba did her best to impart house rules on the youngest Nickolaos, at least….house rules as far as Rene was concerned. More and more the girl had been insisting she be granted freedom to leave the proverbial nest, and while often preoccupied, Dastros’s fatherly inclinations regarding his youngest’s test flights took no passive shortcuts or dismissive acceptance. The last of his offspring, she still allowed her father some direct influence, and he had no problem fulfilling that roll as long as he could.

“I shall be careful,” Rene replied on automatic back to her dutiful handmaid.

“And mind the curfew,” Melba snapped, trying not to be sore but also keen to emphasize this little outing was not to be treated as a freedom with no repercussion. “Here, take this.” Melba pushed a closed parasol towards the two young adults, her motherly instincts still teetering on overbearing as they’d always been. “Stay out of the sun. It is not good for the skin. You will end up looking like a saddle, like weathered commoners, if you do not.”

“Okay,” the responses were shorter and shorter, eager to move along as Rene accepted the parasol.

“Mind your manners. You are of noble birth,” Melba finalized her sermon before fixing the sailor with an acidic glare. “And you….keep your hands to yourself.”

Melba’s lips pursed, eyes narrowed as she glared icily at the brash young man. She made a note to speak with Lord Adrestus on this matter, finding it beyond unbelievable that he should trust Rene, of all people, with this fork tongued deviant. Rene cast her an emphatic wave before opening her parasol and keeping herself from the sun as she’d been instructed.

As the focus shifted from the adults on the pier, to the youngsters within the boat, Rene grinned across the small craft to her companion for the day. “Melba has practically raised me. She means well,” she answered. In a moment of weakness, Rene bit at her lower lip and leaned slightly to the side, staring at the water as it rippled and danced against the sides of the boat, parting like ribbon against the hull. Finding it as captivating to watch as fire, Rene drew a steep inhale, noting the air to really have the tinge of salt to it that had always been described.

Content for the moment with the entrancement of ‘sea-faring’, Rene’s visage panned up and around, taking in the mast, rigging, pulleys and so on, finding it a visual mess of complexity, before coming to rest on the roguish and mouthy fellow. “The capital sells the best color sources for my paints,” she admitted. “And….I grow wary of being forever assigned to the estate. I wish to venture out, to savor the palette of life, divulge in the everyday trivialities, oft taken for granted by those immersed in them, heedless of the gift it is to be them.” What she did not say was that she was lonely, isolated, often disregarded as irrelevant, uninteresting, useless. She would forever delight in the accomplishments and successes of her siblings, but privately yearned for the day she could emerge into her own achievements and triumphant elevation.

Yet, Rene’s smile did not falter, nor had it ever as her cherished siblings ascended the ranks of expectation and accolade. Their celebrations were hers, always silently accepting her station in life. Though…..it was becoming harder and hard to do. And like a microcosm of hope, out on the horizon loomed the capital, a whole new world, to be absorbed by new eyes, offering new experiences to indulge in.

“I apologize, I do not recall if you offered your name, and I do not recall Adrestus providing it either,” she said, adjusting the parasol in her hands. “How long have you been in my brother’s employ?”

The coy tone spilling out of the young man’s mouth gave Rene pause, turning to face her companion, leaning a hip against the side of the rail. Her ever-present smile flattened slightly as she found his deliverance questionable at best. “Of course she means well. That is what people do when they care about you,” she reasoned out rather simply. She once more adopted quietude, watching as the mate on Adre’s ship went about similar duties on this one, fluidly moving about the rigging, knowing exactly what to check, what not to, what warranted adjustment and what was best left untouched.

His next statement struck her as particularly curious. “Dying? Oh...I am not sure what you mean,” she said with a shaky grin, almost ringing her fingers anxiously. “I did not include death when I anticipated a schedule for the day,” she continued. “I certainly hope there shall be no dying. That would be dreadful.” At least, Rene assumed it was dreadful. She had never actually seen anyone pass, nor had she been exposed to violence of any kind. The extent of bloodshed she had bore witness to was scraped elbows, cut knees and lost teeth. At no point in her upbringing had she been presented with the notions of gore, torture or other such ugly things. Of course warfare and history were among the course work of education, but the horrific details of such things were hardly considered when deciding what to insert into the heads of young girls.

“Adre is a good person. You could have declined this endeavor had you chosen to,” Rene pointed out to whatever ends Aivon felt obligated to undertake this expedition, as it clearly was not something he was entirely thrilled with. He need not make an effort for his thoughts to be known. As he continued to spew his blustery, the statement regarding the use of a pseudonym caught her attention rather expertly, the last remnants of her smile fleeing. Why one needed to hide one’s identity was peculiar in and of itself, but as he proceeded to insult her homeland, she worked hard to stifle an exasperated exhale. “Yes, I have been to Tangea,” she answered. “It is a magnificent place indeed, but Athenia is my home, and I am loathe to discredit it so readily.” She shifted lightly on her tiny feet. “For someone who does not much care for this country, and purports to spend very little time here as possible, what concerns are merited when visiting the capitol, pray tell?”