Aea did not think her skin could burn any hotter, nor her stomach to be displaced into her throat. Wonders did not cease this day. The Lady Ophelia’s compliment was almost too much. It was so hard not to break out into a giggle. She bit the inside of her cheek. The Gods were testing her, surely. She could almost see the golden lord shooing her forward, telling her to try her hand.

The risk of blundering was great, too great, and yet there was a delicious rush in facing it, a challenge to be had in wrangling the conquest of doing this well. It didn’t help that the Lady was so completely lovely, inside and out; there was almost an injustice to it. How could Aea ever hope to come close to pleasing somebody like her? 

There was a small whisper of a cowardice in the back of her mind, reminding her that she was better suited to silence and duty. As soon as the opportunity to duck away presented itself, she knew she had to do this terribly intimidating thing regardless. Her father was brave, and he was a great man. She may not be a man, but she wanted to be as great as he was, and so she would have to be brave.

Cassero smiled at her, and she could not tell if it was genuine or not. His real smile and his displeased smile were one in the same. “Ah, yes. My lovely songbird. I was born under a lucky sun, indeed. I will be without my daybreak when she leaves me for a husband, or to play bard in a far land. At least her golden sister’s husband will inherit my house, and so my eldest will not be rid of me so easily.”
What would Uncle Cassero say? 
“Thank you.” She said to the Lady, almost too quiet.  
Say something else, Gods damn you. 
“I apologize, My Lady.” Uncle Cassero said, “Many are unaccustomed to such gracious company. Please forgive her quietness.”

When Aea finally found the words she wished to say, it was too late. Her uncle was conversing with the lady once more and they had turned from her. 
“Great Lady, it is you who honor me, and indeed all of Colchis. The day would not be so joyous without all of the noble houses gathered—those who have kept the kingdoms at peace and the lands prosperous. We all owe your great house a debt of gratitude.”  Uncle Cassero said. 

“You are most kind, gentle bard. I myself have always strove for peace, believing it is the best thing for our great kingdoms. I am very glad to be here today as a representative of my household, reveling in the joy of our concord. I only hope that many years will follow.” Lady Ophelia countered. At such claims of the coming years of camaraderie, the crowd broke into applause. She must be an accomplished orator.
 
Aea did not know what discord would look like. She must have been only a girl of seven or less when peace was absent, and she did not remember any fighting. 
A sudden image of a sandal squishing into a blood-soaked field entered her mind, but she cleared the thought away. She did not often compose her own songs, as Cassero could be quite harsh in his critique, but she thought she could hear one now. She wished she had a reed and parchment to write it. 

Aea studied the Lady for just a moment before looking back down, but it was enough to see the Lady’s cheeks were pink-tinted, faint, but there. Aea did not notice the flush before. Were her cheeks naturally so pink and lovely, was it paint, or was it a blush? Did...did Uncle Cassero make a noble blush? 
Oh! She couldn’t wait to tell her father all the things she’d seen today. She wanted her uncle’s words. She wanted to be able to make a noble blush. 
But what had done it? 
He’d said she’d honored all of Colchis with the Lady’s presence, and that her family was to be thanked for peace. Was it that he lifted her so high in esteem in so many eyes, or that her family was accused of changing the world for the better?

In any case, the Lady was clearly the purest of souls. She wanted peace, she acted kindly. She was all of the soft and wonderful things that were too good and gentle to exist. Aea hoped that she always kept that about her; there was too much blood and greed in this world, and her existence allowed a tiny dot of light to shine through the blackness of it all. 
The blackness—people like Aea—needed lights like Lady Ophelia and Kaia to guide them through the inky dark of creation.

Cassero tilted his head and continued, “And I thank you for your kind words, though I can’t take all the credit, for Apollo saw fit to bless me so that I could walk upon the earth and share his gift with such worthy company.”

Aea wrestled her bravery to the forefront of her breast and little by little, looked upon her uncle and Lady Ophelia more fully. The Lady’s face softened, though it was already soft before, and something Aea couldn’t name passed over her lovely face. A sweet sort of joy, or maybe a subtle rapture. Something about the Gods must had invoked such softness. Piety, perhaps.

Aea stifled her surprise by never letting it come to her expression when she suddenly understood Uncle Cassero’s tactics. Oh, he was a clever and wicked man. The ingenuity of his mind was oft hidden behind his words, but it was there. He would not be so skilled without being intelligent as well. Had the Lady simply smiled and agreed, he would know she was more like Gatheron—who openly mocked the Gods. But, as was clear in her expression, she certainly did believe in their existence. Most people did, but it was best to be sure.

Uncle Gatheron was the only person Aea had ever heard of who didn't believe the Gods existed. He was not a bad man at all, and he was quite possibly her favorite uncle, he only thought himself into a frenzy and had the most terrible luck. He might have been a pretty man in his youth, but his face had been carved into one too many times and turned him into a man who looked ready to murder an old beggar woman, just to sell the three teeth in her head. The slave brand upon his forehead was well hidden by his dark brown curls, but there was no hiding the knifing scars along his cheeks and jaw where a cruel master had once taken his pleasure. His back was worse. Execution had been too kind for him, and so onto the selling block he went. Aea supposed that if life had treated her as it treated her uncle, she might have challenged the validity of the divine as well.

But life had been gentle for her, and she had received tiny tokens from Apollo. When The Lady gave both Aea and Cassero tokens of her own, Aea once again lost the words she needed to express the things swirling in her head. But she had to say something; even if it weren’t impolite, she felt as if she might burst from the weight of joy that danced freely upon the flesh of her heart. She steeled her nerves and opened her mouth.

"I am not so articulate as my father, but...thank you for your recognition. My uncle once told me the difference between a virtue and an ideal was that one was shared, the other spread. Thank you for sharing your generosity, I will do my best to emulate it and pray others emulate me in kind. And in this, your virtues may be shared with the many, and the world may become a little brighter.”

“You do me much honor, Miss Aea...oh, your name is Aea, is it not? Do please forgive me if I have it wrong.” 
Aea had been so proud that she managed to choke everything out without a single stutter, but the Lady’s reply and subsequent eye contact paralyzed her once more. Under the weight of the Lady’s bright green eyes, her mind reeled and scrambled for a reply. Father had told her to keep her name to herself. It would not do to connect her with Cassero, for if one of them were arrested, then the authorities would come looking for the other.

But Lady Ophelia had her name. Aea didn’t want her father to know, but she would have to tell him, and she also had to answer Lady Ophelia.

Aea nodded. She was Aea of nowhere, but that would be suspicious to say. Where could she be from? Her father and two uncles were from Nethisa, but that was a dark place for vile people. Lady Ophelia didn’t think Aea was vile, and if she could help it, Aea would keep it that way. She wanted to be from someplace nice. Green and wide and quiet. 

“Yes, My Lady, Aea of Molossia.” 
Her father was going to be furious. 
“Your Uncle sounds like a very wise man, and you, a kind and intelligent young woman. I truly believe that generosity is the key to a brighter world, and I am very pleased to have found a like-minded individual.” 

It was easier to banish thoughts of how much trouble she would be in when she told herself that discipline would be for the morning next, and since she would already have consequences, today she may as well invite trouble and enjoy herself.
So Aea let Lady Ophelia's words sink in—all of them—and kept them close to her chest to remember always. Kind, intelligent, talented, and lovely. She’d always wanted those things for herself, and maybe she was greedy, but she did not want to share the words with anyone else. She tucked them into a safe, secret place, where things went that should never be forgotten.
Aea would remember she was wicked when the sun rose tomorrow, and that permission allowed her smile to stretch her mouth once more, “Lady Ophelia, I think my cheeks might cease working if I hear another word of praise. To hear a lady such as you, so enchanting and kind, think me worthy of being anything like the morning she embodies is like receiving a divine gift. I thank you for such praise, but I’m afraid that my gratitude is only a shadow in the light of the acknowledgement you’ve been so gracious to bestow upon me.”

She bowed her head respectfully, as she’d seen her uncle do, but without so much charming grace as he. Uncle Cassero chuckled, and it sounded genuine. She’d done it right.
“A fine observation, my dear.” Cassero said. “A Lady of the dawn, ushering in the new age of Greece.” 

As Uncle Cassero and Lady Ophelia continued to speak of the Lady Rene, Aea caught a flash of red and silver soaring behind the bodies gathered. She only glimpsed it through the gaps of arms and waists, but it was such a rich and rare color combination among all the whites and pastels that Aea couldn’t not see who it belonged to.
She turned her head and craned her neck, and she caught the back of a slim man walking with a languid sort of grace that was either at ease or proud, she could not say which his shoulders bore. His thick black curls looked clean and polished enough to be unreal. The metallic iridescence of his himation looked like it was spun from moon-silver, and it shimmered just as vibrantly. The wind he stirred with his walk blew his clothing and his hair, just enough to seem as if he were gliding rather than walking.

If it were possible to become enchanted with the back of somebody’s head, Aea was fairly certain she’d accomplished it. Lady Ophelia was beautiful, a demi-goddess in her grace, but there was something enrapturing about that man that was nothing like the grace of a goddess, and entirely something else. 
Clearly a noble, that much was certain. Would his cheeks and his jaw match the elegance of his hair and his outfit? Would his eyes be as perfect as his posture? She did not know which wish was greater: to see his face or to take his clothes.  

The man arrived at two people who were speaking to a merchant, their clothing and carriage something that Aea was beginning to associate with power. She might have become fascinated by their forms and grace if the silver prince had not arrived and cast them as dull smudges of vague color. Even as her eyes were fixed on the man, her hands worked at the lyre strings. She did not need to see to play.
Turn around. 

Uncle Cassero's voice brought her focus back to her duties. “My first piece—”
By the time Uncle Cassero glanced at Aea, she was blinking at him, ready to follow his lead.
He continued, “Shall be dedicated to Lady Ophelia of House Condos, who’s golden heart and keen mind are so great that whispers of them reach far beyond the beaches of Colchis.”

A light round of applause followed his announcement and he slowed his fingers to accents rather than any true scale. Like a heavy stone being passed, Aea grabbed the song’s weight rather than allow it to fall. She captured the scene she wanted, the night before the dawn, and gave her body to memory and familiar shapes.

As her uncle sang his beautiful ode, she picked his words one by one and attached them to the notes she knew, scaling keys and octaves. Pretty words, shimmering ones, like the Lady Ophelia herself. Briefly, Aea wondered what the silver prince’s song might be. Round whole notes, sustained pauses, bass and tenor banishing the alto. Mist and moonlight. Perhaps he would be her subject when next she tried her hand at a composition. 

The song ended on a faded note and the crowd gave out an enthusiastic roar of applause. None clapped so fervently as the Lady whom the song was written, and Aea’s belly filled with a warm, heavy feeling. Satisfaction. She was pleased the song had made somebody happy, for if there was one thing Aea liked most, it was to be the cause of a smile. Though, in this case, Uncle Cassero was the culprit for that smile. Aea had helped, though, and that was something.

Uncle Cassero thanked the Lady for the opportunity to bring his family honor. His mentioning of a wife was such a great lie that Aea would roll her eyes now if it wouldn’t cost them an audience. 
Wife. Daughters. Ha. 
A wife would have beat Cassero to death long before he made it past the age of thirty. And if Uncle Cassero had any children at all, they were sequestered under the roof of some poor man who would never guess his whelps weren’t his.

Lady Ophelia's smile was luminescent. “I should think your stories would please her greatly, but I am pleased to have been of assistance if that is not the case. And I thank you, my dear friend -- if I may be so bold as to address you as such -- for the most wonderful song I have ever heard!” 

“Nothing would please me more than to be called a friend by you, Great Lady." Cassero pressed his hand to his chest and bowed his head, "I hope your song stays with you all your days, and I suspect you’ll hear the chorus echoing from one gathering house or another in a few months, as these things tend to go. In this, your greatness will never be forgotten in the annals of time, and you shall stand beside all the beloved sagas of old.”

The crowd suddenly parted and Uncle Cassero’s attention snapped to the new noble arrival. He announced her with as much consideration and good cheer as was given to the Lady Ophelia. It was warm, welcoming, a greeting he would give his most cherished friend—if that cherished friend was a woman and not Uncle Dasmo. Aea should like a friend. It was a foreign word upon her tongue.
 
Just as this ‘Lady Rene’ made it through the crowd and to Ophelia’s side, Uncle Cassero bowed low and came up with a boyish smile, gesturing to the arriving Lady with a flourish. 
“My Lady, I have heard stories of your artistic skill. I am only a humble bard, but it would be my great honor to commemorate you in song and hope it does your ladyship justice.” 
It was truly an experience to see her uncle working as he was.

Aea knew her uncle to be temperamental, but when he wasn’t half-drunk, he was playful and fun to be around. He was amusing to the point that there had been a time or two when she almost lost her bladder from laughing so much. And now she knew him to be charming. It was fascinating to behold, and she now understood why he went into the cities more frequently than the rest of her uncles.
If he were not her uncle, she might have been lured by his dimpled smile, then tempted to give away all of her money for his words of adoration.
‘Late again. Likely too busy with a bottle of wine in one hand and a breast in the other to worry about my nerves,’ her father would say, ‘we’ll give the fucker an hour before we fetch him and ruin his fun.’

As Aea’s eyes landed on the Lady Rene fully, she could also comprehend why she was not allowed in the city at all.

She looked down and did not trust herself to look at the new arrival without being induced into some form of bizarre twitching. Aea needed to grip her own urges and calm down, so she took a deep, subtle breath and counted to ten.

Beautiful people were horrid. It was a good thing she never saw any outside of today. When she and Kaia snuck into the walls of smaller towns, it was always night, and they always went after the ones who looked either too drunk or too fat to do much more than wobble about. 
These people that clustered together now were creatures of sunlight. Of milk and honey. Had Aea encountered such a woman as Lady Ophelia within the shadows of a sequestered avenue, she did not know that she would have dared lift a hand against her, even if her purse carried enough money to feed the whole family for a year. The silver prince, on the other hand, would have probably been her first pick if she’d seen him in the dark of night.

In saying that, Aea knew for a fact that she would never look upon somebody such as Lady Rene, a golden-haired naiad, and think of scaring such a fair thing. Her gown was so gorgeous, and although the cut of it would have been cause for Aea’s envy, on the Lady, it was so unintentionally innocuous that it made Aea’s teeth ache. The Lady Rene was...she was...what was she? A different sort of beauty, certainly. While Lady Ophelia was stately and graceful as the most breathtaking scenery, the Lady Rene was Aphrodite’s mortal incarnation. There was a cherubic shape to her, but the tilt of her sapphire-blue eyes and the low dip of her outfit offset all of her sweetness and made Aea think that perhaps she only seemed harmless to better lure the unsuspecting. The Lady Rene might be an incredible actress, hiding a cruelty behind her flawless mask.

The Lady Rene dipped into something that was not at all a bow like Uncle Cassero’s. Was that how women were supposed to bow, or only noble ones, and why was she dipping at all if she was a noble? Perhaps she bent her knees in respect because Lady Ophelia was her senior. Aea would have to observe more ladies dipping to form a better idea.  

“Rene of Nikolaos, at your service.”
Her voice was perfect, chiming and open as a valley. Aea bet her silver coin that the Lady could sing.  
Uncle Cassero pressed his hand to his chest and bent at the waist to give her a deep bow. “Lady Rene of Nikolaos, I am glad to meet you. Any friend of the Lady Ophelia’s must possess the noblest and sweetest of souls. I am Cassero of Molossia.”

Aea’s eyes flicked toward the subjects of Lady Rene’s consideration. “My companion, Melba, and the valiant Captain Aegeus.”
She only had two companions, while Lady Ophelia had much more—perhaps it meant that Lady Rene was not so practiced in politics as of yet...but she was a famous painter, so surely that meant she needed more protection? Then again...her guard had plenty of whip-tense muscle to cleave most people asunder. 

Aea dared not even look at that one’s face. It seemed that everything attached to nobility was clean and shiny and beautiful. If they were to be crawling all over the place, it would behoove Aea to get used to the beauty surrounding her and numb herself to their effects. Else she would stare dumbly at every beautiful, shimmering person that passed. And then she would do something stupid, like poke the muscles of a guard. Then, it would be to the mines with her.  
“Well met, Miss Melba, Captain Aegeus.” Again, Uncle Cassero bowed, but not as deeply as he had bowed to the Lady Rene or the Lady Ophelia.
Deep bows for nobles, shallow ones for nobles friends who were not nobles. 

Uncle Cassero’s hand lifted and she knew that it would be aimed at her in seconds, though she hoped he wouldn’t. She didn’t know if her heart could take it if she had to speak more than a few words aloud. A small break was all she needed to collect herself and conceptualize that people, no matter how beautiful they were, existed everywhere, and that she couldn’t go stealing their dresses or touching them. Then, she would take a deep breath, find the numbness she needed, and proceed unaffected.

They were like flowers; one day, much like a flower, they would wither and die. A pretty set of petals was not of import—it was the nourishing pollen hiding in the middle that Aea should be more concerned with. The petals were only present to attract the bees who harvested their essence and turned it into honey.
No...that was a horrid, perverse metaphor. 

She definitely needed a break. She was starting to sound like her Uncle Cassero. If she didn’t slap herself into a semblance of sense, she might be the one with a bottle of wine in one hand and a breast in the other. Or a large tricep. 

Uncle Cassero gestured toward Aea while keeping his eyes on the Lady, “My daughters and apprentices: Aea, and my eldest, Kaia.”
Oh no, Hektos wouldn’t punish Aea—he would punish Cassero for uttering Kaia’s name so freely when Aea was already compromised. What was he thinking, the idiot? 

Aea swallowed to regain some moisture in her mouth before she dipped her head low, “It is an honor to meet you, My Lady.” 
Uncle Cassero gestured outwardly, as if to embrace the entirety of the crowd, “And these are the good people of Colchis. My family and my people are honored to have you all here to celebrate such an occasion.”  

The Lady Rene confirmed that she was indeed a painter. Aea had never tried to paint before, except for maybe her skin when the blackberries were ripe enough to swirl shapes into her flesh when she was particularly without amusement.

“I have been informed by my dear friend’s attendant that your melodious gift is second to none, and have come to support your craft myself.” Lady Rene said.

Uncle Cassero laughed, “I will take the compliment and thank you both for it, though others might say I am fourth and fifth to some. I imagine the bards at court are the sort of masters that I could only hope to emulate, and so I do hope that my music is of adequate quality, and that it pleases both you and the Gods to hear it. I do have a song in honor of you, Lady Rene, if you would care to hear it? I only ask for a few moments of respite, for I spy King Tython cresting the hill just now, and seeing my king upon his fine horse is not a spectacle I should want to miss.”

Uncle Cassero bowed to the ladies as they turned to converse with one another and his smile bounced from Aea to Kaia. Thank the fucking Gods. Aea needed to look anywhere but straight ahead.

“Look there, girls.” He pointed behind Aea and she tightened her epiblema until it was once more flush against the bottom half of her face instead of merely draped. Her cheeks were likely flushed underneath the material, and she did so hate it when people knew her to be flustered.

She stood up and turned to see over the hundreds and hundreds of heads between herself and the temple of Artemis, just to focus on something new that she could anchor herself to. A retinue of people—riding horses—descended down the hill and toward the temple. They were far away, but she would never miss the glint of gold winking from atop one of the men’s heads.
“The king!” Somebody shouted. Murmurs of happy voices rose from the crowd. Aea caught another mutter, “The Great Blood General, back from the Northern war.”
There was a war? Where? When?
War. 
The color of the word was rich, dark—it tasted like wine. She saw the morning horizon over the flower-speckled boats. Far away, farther than the raven flies, there was something more. Aea looked at Kaia. Her stomach rolled. Her hands felt empty even though she was holding her lyre. Beyond the horizon…war...escape.   
There was a hand on her shoulder and she swallowed the thought, stuffing it in the forgotten place. 
“Now, let us play an ode to Lady Rene. Do you have a scale in mind?”

Aea nodded and turned back around. She would bet her shiny silver coin that the priestesses of Artemis would know about the war. Uncle Gatheron told her all about how the priestesses fought and cured and protected. Aea used to imagine that she might be a priestess of Artemis one day, and the goddess of the hunt had secretly been Aea’s favorite of the pantheon. So fierce and pure, so skilled and respected. And never once did anybody dare tell her that she could not go where she liked.
But then Apollo sent Agogos to Aea, then he gave her a hunger for sound; after that, Aea knew Artemis wasn’t to be her favorite, but the great and beautiful Lord Apollo. Now, she wasn’t sure if that was right either. 

As she sat down to play her lyre once more, she tasted blood. Thankfully, when Aea glanced at the ladies again, she was not so overwhelmed by their beauty. See? All she needed was a break, just a small moment in time where she could center herself and push her mind back to where it needed to be. 
“Why look, Sir Cassero, what a talent my friend has! Is this not beautiful? And made just for me." Lady Ophelia cradled the lovely flower Lady Rene had given her.
How on earth had Lady Rene done that?

Cassero studied the creation in Lady Ophelia's hand and smiled, "Indeed, I have never seen such a cleverly made thing before, and so perfectly alike a rose that I would have mistaken it for a freshly plucked bloom if I did not know any better. A fine creation, Lady Rene. I should think your eye for beauty and your clever hands are just as excellent as I have heard, and that I will one day see your work commissioned by the city of Athenia for public display."

Uncle Cassero smiled and the two ladies turned to talk to each other once more, tuning him out. Aea twisted her pegs down a whole step, dictating the tuning. She was focused now. No more distractions. She would do her duty. And…perhaps she and Kaia would go to the temple. Just to offer tribute and see the priestesses. They would not stay overlong. Just long enough to pray. Aea and Kaia would not do anything more than that. She was only a little curious.
Cassero glanced at Aea, then Kaia, then back at Aea. Now was as good a time as any.

"Father, may we go pay tribute at the temple when we have our break?"
Uncle Cassero, to his credit, did not look as if her question surprised him, though it should have. She had no tribute to give. Instead, he smiled, "I'm sorry, I think there may be too many people there now. You don't want to get underfoot."
Underfoot? Was he joking? She was not a fucking child. Kaia was not a fucking child. They would not get underfoot as if they were cats or toddlers. The familiar and unwanted blackness that sometimes thrashed and bucked at her closed lips roared so loud that it almost escaped that time.

Aea had not been especially interested in going to the temple before now, but she wanted to know more about...things that her family could not—would not—tell her. Being told not to go further fueled her desire.
"Father, you promised we could make our offerings to the goddess." She smiled back at him, "And the later it gets, the more people will be there. We don't know when we should have the opportunity again. We will only go when the great houses and the priestesses are not occupying the entrance, and you can trust the both of us to remain quiet and unobtrusive."
Aea was trapping him and despite his amused smile, she knew he was imagining all of the ways he could make her flinch with the smallest of words. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he inclined his head, "Alright, but only after you help your uncle and bring myself and Kalosi some water. And Kaia, you will wear your epiblema and show modesty before the Gods."
The bright smile that crinkled her eyes was genuine, that time, "Thank you, Father."
"I think I spoil you much too often. Your mother would be very cross with me."
By her mother, he meant Hektos, and he would not tell Hektos—for nobody wanted Aea's father cross with them.

Aea turned to look at Kaia, and although only her eyes were visible above the material of her own facial covering, she hoped her cousin could somehow sense the secretive smile underneath. "If you get the water now, then we will be quick to our visit when it is our break."