With the way that Athanasia responded to Silas’ early morning greeting, the young man could not help but laugh away at the expense of his younger sister. Though retribution was a swift thing, and Athanasia had seen to that quicker than Silas could react. A hard punch connected on his chest and he was left reeling for a second, rubbing his chest and breathing heavier for a moment just to ease the pain away. Silas couldn’t help but have a cheeky smile on his face when his sister called him an ass. As much as he was a captain, a prince and someone of status, he still carried a gentle soul behind all the armour and muscle.

“You’re welcome,” he replied when Athanasia said her thanks to him for the compliment, but he vaguely saw her tightening her hands into fists again, and raised his right hand slightly up to his chest to intercept her second attempt at punching him. However, that punch never came.

Silas didn’t resist when Athanasia had him sit on a bench, and judging by the way he felt his hair being knotted, she was up to something. Of course she had put her flowers in his hair, he wasn’t sure if flowers were part of a man’s outfit but, just to appease his sister’s whims, he didn’t complain nor take them off; if anything he adored it as Athanasia saw it fit to put the flowers on him.

“Fine, and you are not catching a rat and putting it in my bed, you know I will do something ten times worse,” he warned her with a bit of a humoured tone. Despite their respective ages, what they did when they were with each other, made it seem like the two of them had never grown up in the first place, which was an endearing thought.

Just as Athanasia asked her question, he stood up and looked around. No sign of their mother, who was usually the social butterfly. There was no rush for them to dress and head to the carriage, and definitely not her begging Athanasia to wear something that she didn’t want to. It was oddly quiet, too silent for everything to be right, in a sense. Something had happened that caught Queen Yanni’s attention, more than Athanasia’s want to be masculine. “We should be leaving soon,” stressing the word ‘we’ to mean the entire family. “Let’s go find mother.” Silas said, then walked off to find her.

“This is peculiar,” Silas commented as he browsed through the halls of the Kotas family manor, the golden sun had bronzed his skin through the windows and the birds were singing. “I have no idea where she is, or where the others are.” He pursed his lips from side to side.

Silas heard some fuss forming, having been just within earshot of the soft commotion. He followed the voices and gestured for Athanasia to follow. They were cooped up in Dion’s bedchambers, Silas approached the door cautiously and knocked. He heard the call to enter and did so. Careful as always, he peeked by the door then welcomed himself into the room. He first greeted his mother with a bow of his head, then his two brothers and Evras with the same gesture. He saw everyone in a small crowd around Dion, who looked quite under the weather. He finally realised why his mother wasn’t hovering around Athanasia, poor Dion was ill.

Queen Yanni approached her son and rested a hand on his strong shoulder, “Dion had a fever last night,” she said with some tone of disappointment in her voice. “You two should head out first, we will depart after you.” she finished, with a soft smile on her face. Silas responded with a nod, and just as he turned to leave the room, Queen Yanni had set Athanasia in her sights, “Look at you!” she passed Silas and went to place both hands on Athanasia’s shoulders, “You look beautiful.” her motherly pride certainly showed, with Athanasia being the only female; no one could place fault in Queen Yanni. Not even Silas, who knew that Athanasia was envious of how him and her three other brothers had the privilege to be soldiers.

She turned back to the pair, “You two should leave now, your father and Vangelis left the day before.” Queen Yanni informed them, mostly Silas, who was not surprised to know that they took initiative. It was quite like Tython, and Vangelis for that matter.

Silas bid farewell to everyone in the room, and gave Dion a reassuring smile before he headed out the doors.

“I wonder how long the carriage ride will be,” Silas posed a rhetorical question as he made his way to the stables with his sister alongside him. “I hope I can squeeze in a nap.” he said, with a small, mischievous snicker. Though the chance of him napping on the way to Illytia was as good as zero because of Athanasia, but it wasn’t a bad thing at all.

Silas greeted the entire party, then informed them of the change of plans. Silas climbed into a carriage after his sister. Just as they sat, the carriage took off and they were on their way to the event itself. “I think Dion is too unwell to attend,” he said, a little disappointed. Silas didn’t see much of Dion, and wanted to get to know him more; but the day had other ideas.

Just as he laid back on his seat, he realised that they were going to meet both Tython and Vangelis, “I hope I don’t get an earful from Pater about you springing up in Lyncaea.” he said with some humoured, false venom in his words. He already got one from his mother, surely Tython will spare him from the same kind of punishment.

Not many women could pull off the color orange. It tended to wash out one's complexion to the point of looking wan. With her naturally tan skin, rosy cheeks, and dark hair, Princess Emilia of Xanthos wore the hue well. One reason she liked it was that it brought out the red and gold highlights in her silky brown curls and made her hazel eyes appear mostly green. The orange chiton she had chosen for the last day of the festivities was bright and cheerful, liberally beaded in a floral pattern in green, blue, and purple.

The only section left plain was the area that started just below her breasts and ended right above her hips. Her belt covered that part of her torso … rows upon rows of linked sapphires, emeralds and amethysts in golden settings that wrapped around her and accentuated her tiny waist. The rows were anchored n place by strips of gold at the back and sides, making it nearly impossible for her to bend. Such was the discomfort a young lady was willing to endure for the sake of fashion.

The chiton was pinned along one arm with jeweled fibulae that matched Emilia’s belt. A bracelet of alternating amethysts, emeralds, and sapphires encircled her bare arm from just below her shoulder to her wrist. Around her neck was a multi-tiered necklace featuring the same glittering gems. Long dangling earrings and rings on every finger continued the color scheme.

The front sections of her hair had been arranged into two braids each which were entwined with orange, blue, green and purple ribbons. Pulled behind her head, the braids were combined into one and tied with bows halfway down her back, allowing the ends to flow free in soft curls. The rest of her golden brown tresses were left loose. Short silky ringlets framed her face and atop her head was a golden tiara set with emeralds, amethysts, and sapphires, Upon her small feet she wore golden sandals with jeweled straps. The entire ensemble had been designed by Emilia herself and had been constructed over several months.

Her father’s eyes lit up when he came to her room to collect her for the journey to Illytia. She was pleased to see how well he looked. The King’s health seemed to have improved during the week they had been in Colchis. He still had to rest frequently and the sea journey had been hard on him, but he seemed to be enjoying himself nearly as much as she was. Emilia wished that Persephone could see him like this, although contrarily, she was glad that her sister had stayed in Athenia so she wouldn’t overshadow her. Maybe the effects would last when they returned to their own kingdom and their father would make a full recovery. The young princess prayed for that outcome every evening before she went to bed.

“You look lovely, my little Emiliana,” he said, a smile curving the corners of his lips. He had been smiling more lately too, and she adored it when he used that particular nickname. He had started calling her Emiliana shortly after the Queen’s passing. Persephone and her friends called her that too. She liked it better than her own name and wished that she could be called Emiliana by everybody. Sometimes she introduced herself with that nickname when meeting new people.

“Thank you, Father,” she replied with a mischievous grin. “You look lovely too.”

King Minas chuckled. Emilia had not heard him laugh in a long time. His opulent jewelry and magnificent jewel-encrusted crown made a striking contrast against his dark chiton. He looked every inch the regal and wealthy ruler of one of the three Grecian kingdoms.

Once on the road, Emilia watched in wonder as the scenery changed again and again. Colchis was so much different than Athenia … the sights, the scents, even the way the mountain breeze felt upon her face. She had never been away from home before. The geography and culture of each Greek kingdom had been part of her studies, but she hadn’t paid much attention. Experiencing new places was so much more fun than reading about them. She adored the breathtaking high cliffs and the way the waves crashed against the rocks, tossing their frothy spray into the air. The incessant dust was annoying, but she could take a bath whenever she wished.

Many of the buildings, including the royal residence that she and her father were residing in, were carved into the mountains, which the young princess found both amazing and frightening at the same time. Traveling was a matter of going up or going down, with curving roads that offered fantastic views. Flowers appeared in odd places, growing within the crags as if to spite the austerity of their surroundings with their tenacity. Athenia was more beautiful, in the young princess’ opinion, but Colchis had a rugged appeal all its own.

Illytia was clothed in white. The buildings looked much the same to Emilia as the carriage trundled in a spiral ever upward. There were a few harrowing moments when she was afraid they might plunge off the narrow roads and onto the rocks below, but their driver knew what he was doing. He must have been this way many times before. Did the royal family regularly visit the White Temple to worship Artemis? She was quite curious about the priestesses too. Maybe some of them would be willing to tell her about their daily lives. Emilia didn’t like to study, but she adored learning by experience. Her natural curiosity knew no bounds.

Finally they arrived and the carriage stopped. Emilia was assisted out first, followed by the King. Her curls bounced over her shoulders and down her back as she turned in a slow circle, taking everything in. There were booths selling a wide variety of merchandise and colorfully dressed entertainers performed for the many festival attendees. The Athenian royalty was neither early or late, it seemed.

Her father offered his arm and she placed her small hand in the crook of his elbow. They walked toward the Temple, which didn’t look nearly as grand as Emilia had expected. She hoped they would be able to go inside.

Sunlight glinting upon metal drew her attention to a juggler flipping golden plates through the air. Merchants hawked their wares, their voices varying in tone, volume, and reverberation which, unfortunately, did nothing to drown out the musician strumming his lyre and singing horribly off-key. The brunette princess winced and barely resisted the urge to plug her ears. She was glad that his strident cacophony faded as she and her father continued on their way.

Would she be asked to sing today? She had sung quite often during the past week. One of her handmaidens in the small entourage trailing behind them carried her harp just in case.

Emilia could see the High Priestess now. She was a tall, beautiful woman with raven hair who stood straight and proud. At the moment, she was surrounded by people. King Tython and Prince Vangelis, both on horseback. were being decorated with flowers by their sister. What a fun thing to do! Prince Silas, Lord Stelios of Antonis from her own kingdom, and Lady Imeeya of Drakos were there as well. Her father slowed his steps so that the two of them would be noticed and approach at the perfect time to either be introduced or to introduce themselves.

Uncle Cassero received the tip from the captain with a smile that was half charming and half demure, if such an expression could exist for the man.
Aea didn’t stare at the gleaming metal disks, but she heard them clink against one another. The family always buried their excess in the ground, leaving little dots of hidden treasure all over Greece. However, given how small the sum was at times compared to the fortune Cassero received now, it would seem that her uncle didn’t always cough up all his earnings. He was a greedy scoundrel, indeed, but Aea could not fault him—for she would want to keep those coins for herself as well.
And she bet she could get them. She’d just have to outdo her kin and master and rake in all of the profits he might have earned...somehow.

“A song would be lovely. Please accept my own offering as compensation for your talents. Though, I fear you will not find me as splendid a muse. The Lady Ophelia is a superior subject for your ballads. I am but the least of my house, and an artist who merely aspires for the greatness you have so generously bestowed upon me. Your accolades are gracious, though I fear it is but wasted on such an unworthy study.”
The Lady Rene was modest. It seemed a contradiction to be so humble and yet lovely enough to incur the wrath of Aphrodite and wealthy enough to give a fortune to a common man such as her uncle.

“I should think not, my lady. An artist is never an unworthy study, for she holds the gift of creation in her hands. A fraction of the primordial’s blessing, but a blessing nonetheless, one that is priceless beyond measure.” Uncle Cassero put away his tip. “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. My daughters and apprentices: Aea, and my eldest, Kaia.”

“The sentiment is reciprocal, Master Cassero. Your daughters are beautiful. What fortune it is that your family is in attendance today. Your gifts are well served among your kin.”
Aea hoped she looked moderately unassuming, for she was beginning to feel as fine as a well-crafted sculpture. She hadn’t been lying when she said her cheeks were close to malfunctioning.
“Thank you kindly, My Lady. I and my family will never forget this day, for your own beauty and your golden heart shine too brightly to fade in memory.” Uncle Cassero said.

Talking to nobles was not so difficult. The two she’d met so far were kind and generous, and they were approachable. There were bound to be wicked nobles as well, just as there were wicked people among commoners, but perhaps the ratio of kind and cruel was not so skewed as Cassero said.

Aea echoed her uncle’s thanks and cast her eyes to the ground, hoping he’d hurry and get on with the fucking song so that she could do something with her mind outside of dancing in her head and crowing that she was beautiful, lovely, intelligent, kind, and talented. These people would make a vain creature of her yet.

Even though Uncle Cassero’s distraction was not the song he’d charged himself to sing, it was still something to focus on. Aea turned her head to observe the king—Tython, the apparent Great Blood General—and then asked her uncle to go to the temple. Once he acquiesced, Aea suggested Kaia get the water early so that they could go as soon as it was time for their break.
However, when Kaia took off to do so, she moved much too fast; clearly, she thought Cassero meant that they could leave as soon as she brought water, not when their break was upon them. Aea's fair cousin was obviously excited, but of course she was; she had a burning desire to pray at the temple of her patron goddess for years, but the damned ‘no leaving the forest’ rule had kept her away.

Sure enough, Kaia came back and swiftly handed Kalosi and Cassero their water dishes before throwing her epiblema over her shoulders and standing astride the cart. She fixed Aea with her blue eyes and Aea, in return, gave her a smile that was half a grimace.
“I know you are excited, my dear.” Uncle Cassero chuckled. “But you shall be standing there for some time. Break is not for another half an hour.”
Really, Cassero and Dasmo didn’t need Kaia to hand out flowers until Aea was released from her duties. It wasn’t fair that Kaia should have to stay when Aea was the one who Cassero was relying on the most at the moment.

A raven cawed from somewhere overhead. It could be no other but Agogos, finished with whomever he’d been cued to follow. Perfect timing. Artemis was surely pleased that such a devout follower as Kaia wished to pay her respects, and so she prodded her twin brother to help speed her tribute to the temple.
In this, Aea could, and should help with. Not only for her cousin’s sake, but for her own.
Kaia was much better at adjusting to social interactions, and if she went to the temple first, then she could later tell Aea exactly what to say in order to get inside and talk to the priestesses.

Aea lowered her epiblema from the bottom half of her face with the knowledge that Kaia could read her lips well enough. They had to be quite good at silent communication among their family, and they had become especially good with wordless signals while hunting.
Go, I will meet you there later.
She pulled the material up around her nose again and lifted the blanket under the flowers, grabbing her uncle’s spare lyre that he’d been planning to use later for his duels. Once she had it in hand, she picked three flowers from the cart: two red and a yellow, then turned back to her uncle. She would just have to distract him well enough that he would not notice Kaia's absence.
“Father, with your permission, I would like to play a song for The Lady Rene.”
It didn’t seem so hard; nothing she hadn’t practiced before in an impromptu duel.

Uncle Cassero’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Instead of bantering with her uncle and giving him a chance to tactfully withdraw her offer, she moved the situation away from his control. Rare was his lifted hand, but she had no doubt that it would come if she pushed him so much, only to fail in what she attempted. She wouldn’t fail. She didn’t think, anyway.
It was simply a matter of convincing herself that she was relatively alone.

She placed her own lyre beside the cart wheel before she wound the three flowers along the grip of the spare, next to the strings she planned to use. Her fingers made quick work of the stems, threading them as red-yellow-red along the wood. Once complete, she stood and slowly approached the golden lady.

Aea banished the crowd and the noise of the festival from her attention in the same way that she tucked a foul memory from her immediate thought. They blurred into the background and she kept her focus trained on the Lady. All that existed was the smell of her fine oil, the imagined sound of her heartbeat, the perfection of her face and form.
It allowed Aea to settle into her self-appointed role as the Lady’s primary entertainment, even if it were only for a moment, with the sort of ease that came with true confidence.

Aea bowed from the hips and stood back up, cradling the spare lyre to her hip. She thought the lady so tiny before, but Aea was only a few inches taller than she. Was she, herself, so small in height? It didn’t matter, she supposed. All the better to pass unnoticed. It did not offer the same disguise for Lady Rene, for no matter how small she was, there was no way for such a beauty to hide. It was an unfortunate truth, for the blush staining the Lady’s unmarred cheeks told the story of a woman who would much prefer to duck out of sight.
For that, Aea was sorry for putting the lady at the center of attention, but it was necessary for Kaia to escape. And besides, nothing so lovely should go unacknowledged.

“Lady Rene.” Aea smiled under her epiblema, “I apologize, I know that you wished for a song from my father, but I have just received a sudden inspiration. It would be unwise of me to keep such a gift to myself. I should like to give it to you, if you would not mind a leap of faith.”
She gestured to the cart, “My methods are admittedly unorthodox, but I find that they bring an unparalleled measure of craftsmanship to the song."
She was not lying at that; her best work came from bringing the song into an intimate space.
"If it pleases you to hear my ode, I will ask for you to sit right where I was sitting before. There is ample room for Lady Ophelia, Miss Melba, and one of Lady Ophelia’s companions as well, and a spot just right there for the valiant captain Aegeus to stand guard.”
She imagined that she could hear her uncle’s foul string of curses from the inside of his skull.
There was another caw overhead, and Aea’s eyes widened when Agogos glided over the crowd and gently settled upon her shoulder in his usual spot.

Ravens could not see the crocus' yellow petals. They could, however, see the red anemones, and they could see that some sort of shape nestled between the red blooms of a red-yellow-red union. Agogos recognized that specific combination of color and non-color as a signal; he would receive a tasty treat after he’d executed his trick.

“My Lady,” Aea remembered her wonder when she first found Agogos as a chirping hatchling, and the memory infused her voice with breathless awe, “I thought you might have been kissed by the sun for the beautiful gold in your hair, but now I think you may truly be beloved by Lord Apollo for the mastery of your art and the goodness of your heart, for the raven is his conduit in the world of mortals.”
She stroked the bird's chest and he arched his neck proudly as he usually did.
"Are you a sign, noble bird?"
Careful of disturbing her feathered companion, she stopped stroking him and moved slowly to the cart. It was a good thing that Kaia and Aea had scrubbed it so thoroughly the night before, and a blessing that it had been used to haul the great pile of flowers into the city, for the wooden construct smelled sweet and new. On this day, Aea could say with confidence that it was a sufficient place for a lady to sit.

As she moved, she remembered to keep her shoulders back and her spine straight so that she did not hunch over as she was prone to doing. If she lied to herself and tricked her body into believing that she was an expert songstress, that Apollo had given her the melody and lyrics she needed, then her mind would follow.
Aea did not once look at her Uncle, though she knew he was watching her as surely as a raptor observed the field mouse, which meant that he was not looking at Kaia at all, and she was free to go to the temple.

Aea folded her legs and kneeled before the cart, tilting her head toward it. Agogos glided from her shoulder to the lip of the wood, settling on his new perch beside the spot she asked Lady Rene to occupy. Aea tuned the spare lyre an octave higher than her own as she waited for the ladies to—hopefully—join her.
Enter action with boldness, and nobody shall doubt your claim.
She would have to think of a very good cover-up if they refused her invitation, which was still possible given that they had the power to refuse anything a low-born thing like her might request. But she took comfort in the fact that it was improbable anybody should refute a sign of the Gods.
“Father, may I borrow your lyre for a moment, please?”
Uncle Cassero could do nothing but hand over his instrument, as his own refusal would create quite the spectacle. Aea received the fine stringed construct with a small, thankful smile and silently admired the ease in which he smiled back. He was likely steaming, and yet he stayed so outwardly pleasant. He need not worry; it was a simple thing she was doing, so long as her focus remained riveted to her subject.

She would direct the attention of the crowd to the ladies, who would play to further develop the sound of the sweet, simple melody that Aea had in mind. It was unlikely that Lady Rene was so accomplished with auditory art if she was so inclined to the visuals. Aea had not a clue of Lady Ophelia’s artistic inclinations, if she indeed had any at all, but even if she didn’t, the natural rhythm of her voice would be enough of a foundation to guide her. The song was, after all, more of a lullaby than an epic.

Aea would not be happy if Agogos chose that moment to bestow his droppings upon them, for she was quite proud of the prophetic air she’d created. Now the trick was to bullshit just enough to give her ample time in figuring out the lyrics. It was a good thing she was well-versed in weaving distractions from thin air.

Kaia’s shoulders dropped a little as her uncle reminded her that it wasn’t yet break time. Feeling both embarrassed and annoyed, Kaia simply gave a nod, then gathered up some more flowers, hoping against all odds that her humiliation wasn’t staining her cheeks pink. She didn’t like looking foolish at the best of times, but certainly not in front of two noble women. Perhaps they did not notice, but if they did, Kaia was sure they’d think her a childish fool for needing permission to leave.

It was a wonder Kaia hadn’t been married off yet, she was certainly old enough. It was never mentioned, but Kaia was willing to bet her father was delaying the idea, not that Kaia minded. She was in no hurry to become some man’s possession. However, being home with her father and uncles did have its caveats—being treated like a child being one of them. More often than not, Kaia’s family expected her to be able to take care of herself when times got a bit bloody, but beyond that, she was still a child in their eyes. Kaia could barely complain though. For every time Kaia was dismissed, Aea had it worse, at least two times over. Aea was only a year younger than Kaia, but being the youngest of their family was not something time ever seemed to allow her to escape. Kaia knew it frustrated her cousin to be treated as such, so Kaia did her best to keep her own frustrations to herself.

Hearing Agogos’ caw off in the distance, Kaia glanced out at the crowd. Sure enough, the merchant man had moved on. Kaia looked to her cousin in time to see her pulling the material down from the bottom of her face to give her wordless signal.

Kaia raised her brows ever so slightly before catching herself, not wanting her uncle to notice their silent communication. No doubt Aea had a plan, but as tempting as it was, Kaia was unsure if she should take advantage of it. She could only imagine the wrath she would face that evening if she snuck away to the temple before she was released. Her father never raised a hand against her, but if he was asleep or away and she messed up, well she’d soon learn her lesson. Kaia wasn’t sure how likely her father would really be able to protect her if she put their carefully constructed plan at risk.

Then again, why did it even matter? She was handing out flowers, fucking flowers. Kaia could accept that she had no useful skill to put towards the plan like Cassero or Aea, but there was nothing special about what she was doing either. Handing out flowers was not some strenuous task that needed her specific involvement. Even with the combinations, it wasn’t hard to do.

It’s not about the flowers, Kaia reminded herself bitterly. No, she knew she was right in thinking that anyone could hand the flowers out, but the real reason it was her was ironically out of her control. Why else was she given the clean peplos to wear? Well, Cassero was a charming looking man for his age. Perhaps he could have opted to hand the flowers out in between songs.

Truth be told it didn’t matter. Kaia would always be tasked with the menial duties while Aea and the rest would actually rely on their talents and skills. It just made her feel useless and irrelevant being made to stand there and hand out flowers like some naive, petulant child, instead of being allowed to go to the temple.

It’s only a half hour. I’ve waited all this time, a half hour won’t change anything, Kaia reasoned with herself, though she couldn’t help but curiously wonder what Aea thought to do to allow Kaia her escape. It seemed Aea was determined to perform especially for lady Rene. Despite being proud of Aea’s boldness, Kaia did worry that Aea was setting herself up for reprimanding later on. Would their uncles ever let them venture into the city with them again if Kaia slipped away to visit the temple and Aea decided to go rogue and not only speak to CLADSTENK, but play for one?

Hesitation began to war with temptation. Aea was constructing quite the elaborate distraction, even going as far as to offer the lady a seat on the cart. Kaia didn’t want Aea’s efforts to be in vain, but was leaving an extra half hour early really worth it? Kaia hated to think what Hectos’ reaction would be if he heard about Aea’s performance for Lady Rene. At the same time, if Kaia didn’t go, then Aea would be punished for nothing, and Kaia very much wanted to go.

Realising that Aea had threaded the flowers through her lyre, Kaia realised her intention only moments before Agogos came to perch on her shoulder. Kaia turned away to hide the appreciative smirk that crept onto her face. How very clever of Aea to use park of their uncle’s tricks to bolster her performance. Perhaps Aea had what it took to be a legitimate bard herself.

With a glance towards Cassero, Kaia could tell that he wouldn’t even notice her leaving, his attention was so keenly focused on Aea. Gnawing on her bottom lip, Kaia flicked her gaze towards the temple. If she was going to go, she’d need to go sooner rather than later. Cassero’s attention wouldn’t be fixed on Aea forever. Perhaps she could go over quickly and be back before Cassero noticed.

Throwing caution to the wind, Kaia set the flowers in her arms down again, then quietly slipped out from behind Kelosi. Kaia’s storm blue eyes fell on Lady Rene and Lady Ophelia and for a moment, Kaia wondered if she was supposed to bow before leaving. Would they draw attention to her for leaving without following some sort of noble custom?

Praying that they would either not notice her leaving, or at least not alert her uncle, Kaia took a chance and threaded herself through the moving crowd. With each step towards the temple, Kaia felt her excitement bubbling to the surface. Finally she would be able to pray to Artemis from within the temple. Perhaps Artemis would be proud of her efforts to please her, for Kaia looked for her guidance every time she picked up her bow.

Moving swiftly through the throng of people, Kaia soon found herself before the grand temple entrance. It was even more magnificent up close. No matter how nicely Cassero and Dasmo had described the temple, Kaia could not have imagined it to be so impressive and beautiful. Not even the presence of the king and his sons could deter from the awe of Artemis’ sacred temple.

Kaia moved to make her way up the steps, then hesitated. It had taken a moment for Kaia to register how close she was to an actual king. What if she did something wrong by mistake and offended him or one of the princes? It wasn’t worth the risk. Kaia withdrew back into the crowd and studied the royals from the safety of her anonymity.

To say that the king and his royal entourage were impressive was an understatement. The king sat atop his horse with the posture of a man who commanded respect with even the simplest of glances. Every detail of his attire was intricate and impressive; Kaia had never seen fabric or embellishments that looked so fine. Then there was the horse—such a powerful creature at the best of times, but the king’s horse was a proud, powerful beast. Kaia wondered if the king’s mount was as aware of its status as everyone else. She had no doubt at least that it was better sheltered and fed than she’d ever been.

Finally, Kaia dragged her gaze to the prince closest to the king. Kaia had no idea what his name was, but she was absolutely sure that she had never seen such a handsome man before. It was nearly criminal how the lines of the prince’s jaw seemed to have been chiseled by the gods themselves. Kaia couldn’t quite see the colour of his eyes, but she could see the sheer purpose and focus in them. Kaia could only imagine how strikingly terrifying he must seem in the eyes of his foes. Even atop his steed, Kaia could tell he was incredibly tall and broad. Before she could help herself, Kaia’s mind began trying to conjure an image of how impressive his body must look derobed, but Kaia reluctantly tried to push the thought away. It felt rather sinful to have such thoughts so close to Artemis’ temple.

Before her mind could linger again, Kaia dragged her gaze from the first prince to the next. It was only then that Kaia even realised there was a woman on the back of the other prince’s horse. Was she threading flowers in his hair? Kaia nearly rose a brow, but made a conscious effort to keep her expressions in check. The last thing she needed was to accidentally offend a royal, though she was sure they wouldn’t even notice her—a mere common born lost in a sea of other commoners and nobles alike.

It surprised Kaia however to see the woman—who Kaia could only assume was a royal too—threading flowers in the prince’s hair. Was that a normal thing to do outside of home? Perhaps they were courting. Kaia looked more closely at the woman. Her hair was a beautiful shade of brown and seemed to frame her feminine features elegantly. The finest jewelry accented the woman’s appearance, drawing out the delicate shape of her eyes and the smallness of her waist. She was a unique combination of delicate and strong. Even from her vantage point, Kaia could see that the woman was surprisingly well defined for someone Kaia assumed would be doted on by countless servants. Perhaps royal women were better trained in combat arts than she had always assumed. While Kaia could appreciate that, she couldn’t help but feel bitter resentment. Kaia’s abilities to fend for herself had always been what she valued about herself more than anything else. Whenever her mind tortured her by trying to compare her life to those of noble or royal standing, Kaia had always imagined that their women would not be able to hold their own in a fight. It was the one way in which she could find comfort in feeling superior. It was a silly thought to cling to so tightly, but now that she could see this royal woman before her, Kaia hated that her one defining feature that made her feel worthy was not really there at all.

Looking away, Kaia tried not to think about it. Perhaps the woman was an outlier. Or maybe it was simply a life of having every need met that had the woman looking the image of perfection and health. More than anything else, the woman was a depiction of everything Kaia wanted, but would never be.

Reminding herself that she was there to pay her respects to Artemis, Kaia bounced her gaze around the people gathered around the front of or within the mouth of the temple. It did not take her long to locate the priestess of Artemis. While the noble and royal men and women had a certain regal posture about them, the priestess held herself with grace. Although both beautiful and approachable in appearance, Kaia could practically feel the fierce protective nature emanating from the holy woman. The desire to speak with the priestess was beginning to consume Kaia. However she was very aware of the amount of nobles conversing nearby. Again, the fear of making a fool of herself began to fill her mind with doubt. She didn’t have the faintest idea of how she was supposed to address these people. Selfishly, she wished they had chosen to gather somewhere else, so that she could have been afforded the luxury to speak with the priestess in peace and without judgement. Kaia had no doubt that if her uncle knew how she was feeling, he’d tell her it was what she deserved for willingly abandoning her post.

Perhaps it was Artemis showing her that she sought out the temple out of time or even for the wrong reasons. Perhaps Kaia was not meant to be there, at least not yet. She knew Artemis would not turn her back on her completely, but it would make sense if she wanted Kaia to learn a lesson.

Or maybe you’re just being a scared little child...

Kaia scowled at the thought. She was not afraid she just did not want to make a fool of herself before Artemis. Who knew when Kaia would be able to come to the temple again—she needed to make the most of the opportunity, even if that meant waiting a little while longer until she could approach without the risk of making a spectacle of herself.

With a sigh, Kaia turned away and slowly began making her way back to her cousin and uncle. Maybe she would be fortunate enough to be back before her uncle even knew she was missing, but Kaia didn’t like her chances. At least her punishment would be less severe than if she didn’t come back for some time, or at least so she hoped. It mattered not, what was done was done.

Trying to ignore the sullen dread forming in the pit of her stomach, Kaia looked out towards the docks as she walked. After seeing the royals and nobles gathered at the temple, Kaia was surprised to be met with a feeling of complacency. She loved her family more than anything and she would die fighting to protect them—of that she had no doubt. However, where the idea of her life being simple but free was nothing but a comfort to Kaia before, now Kaia was beginning to feel the tendrils of doubt. Whether she liked it or not, her life would never really be anything more, how could it be? She was an illegitimate child and common born at that. The chances of her rising in status was practically impossible. Even if she could convince some lonely nobleman to marry her, why would he? As she came to realise at the temple, Kaia had no idea how to act around or interact with nobles. She hadn’t even realised Ophelia and Rene were not queens for an embarrassing amount of time; thankfully no one had been privy to her inner thoughts.

The fact still stood though, Kaia was destined to remain what she was until her dying breath. There was no room for her to climb the social ladder. There was no chance of her being someone a crowd of people would part for simply because it was her. If she ever did marry, it would likely be for the benefit of her father and uncles, not for status or love. She’d have to count herself lucky and call it a day if her future husband let her entertain her own free will. Gods help him if he tries to possess her though.

Frowning as she stalked back towards her stall in thought, Kaia looked out towards the docks again, noticing figures moving out in the distance. Visiting the temple was supposed to give Kaia more clarity, not less. Perhaps she needed to reevaluate how she chose to serve Artemis, for she had clearly done something wrong to be thrown into such a feeling of stagnation. Kaia’s trust in Artemis was unwavering, but beyond that, Kaia wasn’t confident in how to feel about her place in the world. She could accept being a nobody, so long as she had something to give her life purpose.

(I sincerely apologize for the lateness of this reply but I have not been well at all!)

A charged silence hung like a promise in the air, though a promise of what she knew not. Something great she was certain, for these magnificent bards had only delivered greatness thus far. There was a look in Aea's eyes that she did could not quite comprehend, while Cessaro's sparkled as they caught the light of the sun. That could only mean one thing in hr eyes -- he was truly blessed by Apollo. As to the other girl, Ophelia had lost sight of her. She cast her gaze around in search of the auricomous beauty, finding her standing beside a finely dressed gentleman in the crowd. Was he an admirer of hers? She could hardly blame him if he were; the girl was very comely, after all, though she should take care not tn encourage suitors whose intentions could never be honourable. Still, it was not her place to say that. She did not know this girl, but she felt quite confident that Cessaro would watch over her and keep her well in hand.

The sight of Cassero beaming at his other daughter filled her with warmth. Rarely did she receive such open affection from her own father, though she could not resent him for it. He was a very busy man after all, troubled with great affairs. The welfare of his daughter was but one priority on a list of many, and not a high one. But she had attendants to see to to her every whim, while Kaia, Aea and Cassero only had each other. It both warmed and chilled her heart to hear him speak so lovingly of his daughters, but mirth won out over envy, a bright smile breaking like the dawn across her face.
"It is so lovely to hear a father praise his daughters so highly," she murmured. "I am certain you shall miss you daybreak very much, but the sun shall never be far from you, for missives can be sent and visits arranged, and you will always be in her heart, I am sure," she assured the older older man. "And as you say, you shall have your eldest to keep you company, inherit your house and fill your life with grandchildren. What a joy that will be!"

'Thank you,' the girl's words were almost too quiet to hear, but she did hear them, and responded with a gentle smile. Her father apologized on her behalf, explaining that many in these parts were unaccustomed to the company of high born ladies. She bent her head in a gracious nod, gentling her tone to one of compassion and understanding.
"I assure you, Sir, there is nothing to forgive. Your companion is utterly charming, and I am accustomed to being received more shyly by those who have never encountered a noble before, but I thank you for your explanation, as it confirms my own suspicions. I assume you must have played for a great many nobles then, since you are so at ease in our company. Mistake my words not for a rebuke, I pray you. Your easy manner comes as a great relief to me."

As she and her new friend spoke of peace, her mind cast unwillingly back to the days of discord. She had been sixteen when the treaty had been signed, and on that day the citizens of Taengea had taken to the streets for a revel like none she had ever seen before. Then again, before that day, a mangled corpse swinging from a tree, or a weeping mother being dragged away by an exasperated husband, was far more a common sight than the flapping banners and abundance of trinkets one might spy today. When she was eight, she came herself upon the beaten, bloodied body of one of her favourite servants, left to rot in a field. Forcing the memories away, she forced a tremulous smile. Now was no time to think of war, but of peace, a peace that her family had helped to bring about. Through her kindness, philanthropy and determination, she had helped to create a better world for the lower classes after the treaty was signed, and she had every intention of continuing to do so. Even if war came again, she would endeavour to better as many lives as she could.

Once more Aea spoke, her manner uncertain but her words eloquent, and Ophelia came to learn that she was Aea of Molossia. "Oh, I have heard it is very beautiful there!" she exclaimed. "I have never had the opportunity to visit, however. To be honest, I rarely stray far from home, unless something like this brings me elsewhere."

She complimented the girl's father on his wisdom and the girl on her intelligence, pleased to have found a mind twin to hers. Ophelia could not tell as Aea's face was mostly covered, but the girl seemed pleased. There was a twinkle in her eye that put her in mind of the stars that lit her private gardens when she went walking at eventide with Evanthe. In fact, this girl put her very much in mind of a star: beautiful and mysterious. She had a feeling that there was more to Aea, more than perhaps even her father knew. A million secrets lay behind those eyes, secrets she would never be privy to.

'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.'

Aea's words caused a soft flush in her alabaster complexion, tinting her cheeks a pale rose. She could not recall blushing this much in rather a long while, but she did not mind it at all.

"Miss Aea, I believe you speak far more eloquently than you give yourself credit for, and if you continue to lavish such praise upon me, I fear my cheeks will be set aflame!" a light, lilting laugh fell like honey from her lips, impregnating the air with the sweetest sound imaginable.

To her delight, Cassero only reiterated his daughter's statement, which caused her cheeks to darken slightly more. "Truly, you are too kind to me, both of you!" she exclaimed, placing a hand to her heart.

As she spoke with Cassero about Lady Rene, she noticed Aea's gaze momentarily drift away. Curiosity getting the better of her, she followed the girl's eyes, only for her own to alight on Lord Mihail of Thanassi. She drew in a sharp breath as she took in his attire. Beautiful as it was, it did not speak of peace. His chitton was the colour of bloodshed, murder, gore, yet it became him so very well that she could hardly imagine him wearing anything else. Though she saw only the back of his head, she knew that it had to be him, for only he would wear such daring colours to a celebration such as this, and the cut of his hair was unmistakable, as was his gait. Many said that the Thanassi were witches, but she gave these rumours no credence. Mihail was no sorcerer. He was many things, but a master of the black arts was not one of them. She watched him a little while longer as he made his way towards two people she had never seen before. They appeared to be of the merchant class, which surprised her slightly, as she would have have considered Mihail the type to associate himself with such people. Still, the world was full of surprises, as were the people who lived upon it. There was a male and a female, and from what she could gather, this was not their first meeting. They seemed to be on familiar terms...

Mihail was quickly chased from her mind as her ode began. Never in her life had she heard something so wonderful, though perhaps that was because it was all for her. It reminded her of the last rays of moonlight gently surrendering to the coming dawn, the moon bowing to the sun. In her mind she pictured a dawn more radiant than any she had ever seen, the sky ablaze with amber and violet and jade. When the song was over, she brought her hands together in rapturous applause, staring at the duo as if they had just given her that very moon, that very sun, that very dawn.

The acceptance of her friendship filled her with great happiness. In response to his bow, she dipped a shallow curtsy, not daring that he was below her in station. He had agreed to be her friend, and in her mind that elevated him. "I am most honoured to receive your friendship, Sir," she murmured humbly, having truly been taken in by this charming weaver of tales. The thought of her song passing from house to house elated her, for though she loathed to admit it, vanity was a particular vice of hers. "Your song is so very beautiful, I shall be amazed if I do not hear it again. Art is very important to us in Taengea and many of us love to sing."

Cassero was as considerate to REne as he had been to her, welcoming her with all the charm and good grace she had known he would. Hopefully, that would help to set her mind at ease, for who could be nervous in such good company? Ophelia was confident that soon, Rene's qualms would be put to rest, for Cassero was making quite the effort to make her her feel at home. He spoke highly of her art, which Ophelia hoped Rene would appreciate. On the other hand, such praise could send her shrinking into herself, but she had come here to represent her house, had she not? Surely this was an excellent opportunity to put her name out there, and her houses too? Everyone knew of her sister Celine, but perhaps it was time they heard of her. Why should the world not know that the Nikolaos' had a talented, beautiful daughter who could create wondrous masterpieces from almost any medium? Ophelia grinned at the thought.

Her eyes strayed momentarily to Aea, who she noticed was standing very still. Was something wrong with the poor girl? Ophelia considered asking, but she did not wish to draw undue attention to her, lest it get her into trouble with her father. Cassero did not seem like the sort of parent who would doll out unnecessary punishment, but one could never be certain. Not wanting to draw attention to Aea, she quickly looked away, returning her gaze to the smiling Cassero.

But as Rene dipped into her curtsy, she noticed Aea's ocular expression change once more. She had not much to go from by her face, for much of it was covered, so she had been reading the girl's eyes most carefully. When Rene had arrived, there was a strange sort of darkness there that had confused -- and, if she was honest with herself, slightly unnerved -- her, but now that was replaced with an almost child-like curiosity, or so it seemed to Ophelia. That made sense, though, as she recalled the girl's father recounting that she was unaccustomed to noble company. The poor girl was probably so overwhelmed now that two nobles were in her presence, especially one as beautiful and accomplished as Rene.

She could not help but smile as the introductions were made. It seemed as though Cassero would spare no opportunity to flatter her, easily weaving together a compliment for both herself and Rene. He was right, of course, the girl was noble and sweet, though Ophelia knew she could not take credit for that. It did not surprise her at all that Rene had thought to introduce her companions, and Ophelia felt a pang of guilt for not having done so with hers, though she knew it would have only embarrassed Atlas, who preferred to keep to the shadows. Evanthe, though, would have loved the attention. She would remember next time, she vowed.
Cassero was gracious, greeting each of her companions in turn and even bowing to them, though shallowly as befit their station. Ophelia noticed Aea taking all of this in, presumably noting the proper way to behave in noble company. Rene was an absolute sweetheart, greeting the bard and his daughters with sincere compliments.

Ah, Kaia, that was the name of the third. His eldest, his sun, the one who would inherit his house upon her marriage. Was she already betrothed? Ophelia could not help but wonder. Surely there must be suitors vying for the hand of one so lovely. Ophelia beamed at them both, withdrawing another silver coin from her purse.
"Kaia! What a lovely name!" she exclaimed. "I am so happy, for now I know I know you all. Do forgive me, my dear, I believe I left you out earlier, 'twas not in malice. Please take this as a token of my friendship."
She advanced towards Kaia then, holding out her hand. The silver glimmered enticingly on her palm, catching the light above.

Ophelia turned to those he had mentioned, the good people of Colchis as he called them. She shone a benevolent smile down upon them, pressing a hand to her lips before casting it out to the crowd. "I shall be honoured to consider you all my friends," she intoned brightly. "I am delighted to be here at your wonderful celebration today, your kingdom is a most gracious host."

Rene was looking at her with those big blue eyes again. They were wide as drachma and shining with hope. Ophelia reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You are correct, two years is indeed a very long time, though your correspondence brings me much joy. One of the reasons I was so eager to attend this festival in my father's place is because I knew you would be here," she stated candidly. "We should absolutely holiday in Midas! I confess, I am coming to rather like Colchis quite a lot."

She could tell that Rene was more hesitant about this particular creation, but Ophelia attempted to put her qualms to bed with a warm smile. She watched as her friend's fingertips lightly danced over the aurean metal, noting how tactile Rene was. She always seemed to be touching things, exploging material with her hands: a sign of a true artist. "It is definitely appropriate for the occasion, and a creation of great beauty. I would not have known you were unconfident with metalwork at all, for it is such an intricate and elegant piece and so cleverly thought out. I swear, I shall have to commission you to make something for my hair sometime, you truly are a genius!"

Ah, so he did have a song for her dearest Rene. She had hoped that he would. Rene, dear thing that she was, took this opportunity to compliment her. She was far too modest sometimes, though modesty was befitting of a female and thus her sweet humility never failed to earn Ophelia's approval. She knew however that Rene had great ambition, and of that she also approved. Contrary to popular belief, it was not the place of a lady to simply flit around and look pretty, but to better hers and her family's standing through any honourable means. Aegeus came forward, placing a tip with the others, and Cassero bestowed a smile upon him. Ophelia watched as the guard returned to his post, then returned her gaze to Rene.
"Your modesty does you credit, dearest one, but you are certainly a worthy subject for our charming Cassero. Your hair is almost as exquisite as your artwork. You are as beautiful as a naiad and as pure as virtue personified."

She turned to Cassero, about to tell him that she knew not what would please the Gods, but that he outshone many of the Court musicians she had heard, and that perhaps he might try his hand at coming to court one day and attempting to earn a place there as a musician. She herself would be more than happy to hire the three of them, though she supposed they would loathe to leave their home. However, his next words caught her attention, and any thought of encouraging him to try his hand at Court flew from her mind the moment she heard the word 'King.'

"Of course!"

She turned her head to watch the procession along with the others, smiling slightly at the grand procession. She glanced over at Rene, wanting to see her friend's reaction. As she did, she heard cries of 'The King!'
The people were jubilant, crying exaltations in the direction of their ruler. She thought that nothing could spoil this joyous day, until she heard a man exclaim 'The Great Blood general back from the Northern war!'
Her breath caught in her throat.
She turned quickly from Rene, not wanting the girl to see whatever expression she wore at present. Instead she fixed her eyes on the procession, taking deep, steadying breaths to slow her heart-rate. She prayed that Evanthe would have the good sense to stay away, for this was not the time to comfort her. In private they would speak of their fears, but now they had to keep a brave face. Ophelia could not show weakness of any kind. Seeming to understand this, Evanthe kept her distance.
But what did it mean? Who was The Blood General? What was this war in the North? Why had she not been informed of it, and if it there was a war, what were they all doing here celebrating peace?

Thankfully, Rene was there beside her. When the girl spoke, Ophelia tore her mind away from the darker matters lurking there and gazed upon the sunshine that stood beside her, allowing her smile to return as she was once more presented with a paper rose. She still had the one that Rene had given to her upon their first meeting, treasured in a beautiful vase. This one would soon stand beside it. Wanting to distract everyone else from the grim tidings, she held up the rose and sang Rene's praises to Cassero once more. As she had hoped, the atmosphere lightened considerably. Cassero studied the faux flower and insisted that he would not have known it were not a real one had had he not been told. Again he was all smiles and compliments and all was well.

She could think about the war later.
She could puzzle over the Blood General and the North and why she had not been told when she was not standing beside her friend, being exalted by a benevolent bard, the eyes of an eager crowd upon her. For now, she simply wanted that which they had all come to celebrate -- peace.

She could tell that Rene was reticent about the gown, uncomfortable in her own skin. Ophelia studied it once more. It was incredibly beautiful, though so unlike others Rene had previously worn. She could understand why the little dove was unnerved. She gently clasped her hand, meeting the girl's azure eyes with her own emerald orbs.
"You have shown great courage in stepping out of your comfort zone, but you know that I would tell you if the gown were inappropriate, and it is not. It is perfectly seemly, my dear, and entirely appropriate for the occasion. It becomes you very well, and I truly think you have made a wonderful choice with it. You will find that a large part of what will do involves courage, and I believe you have more than you think you do," the older woman smiled, tucking a loose lock of blonde hair behind the young nymph's ear. "I shall treasure this flower always, keeping it as a symbol of our everlasting friendship -- unwilting and eternal."

As she conversed with Rene, she heard talk between Aea and her father of visiting the Temple of Artemis. It confused her when first he denied his permission, for she had taken him for a pious man, but she supposed every father had a right to be protective over his daughters. Again, she felt a slight pang of envy, for she knew that her father would not have spared a second thought in giving her consent to go were he in attendance. He was not the protective type. She had her guards and chaperones and that was good enough for him, though she suppose that suited her just fine. She had no time for obstacles, for she had much to accomplish. An overprotective father could hamper her philanthropic progress, which would be to no-one's benefit. Still, it was endearing to see how well he cared for his daughters. She was pleased also to see that he reminded Kaia to show modesty before the Gods. Kaia thanked him humbly and disappeared to perform the tasks he had set her, leaving her and Rene in the company of her charming father and sister.

'I should think not, my lady. An artist is never an unworthy study, for she holds the gift of creation in her hands. A fraction of the primordial’s blessing, but a blessing nonetheless, one that is priceless beyond measure.'

Cassero had spoken words of wisdom once again. Ophelia gave a solemn nod, his further talk of the Gods only confirming her suspicions of his piety. He was all that a good man should be and she would take every opportunity to pray for his success, and that of his daughters.


Ophelia watched as the golden girl returned and threw on a slightly tarnished epiblema, rushing gayly towards the cart. Kaia was effervescent, barely able to contain her excitement. She seemed to have misunderstood her father's words, however, for he informed her that break was not for another half an hour.

And then...

Cassero was distracted, but Ophelia saw the girl sneak towards the cart, pluck the red flowers and steal the lyre. Well, was it really stealing? Not if it belonged to her family. But she was confused. Her father had given his consent for her to pray at the temple. Why then could she not wait a mere thirty minutes? And what would make her believe that Artemis would wish to receive such a wayward child? Shaking her head slightly, she reminded herself to presume not. It was not her place to presume knowledge of what Artemis would want. But should she alert Cassero of his daughter's desertion?

'Father, with your permission, I would like to play a song for The Lady Rene," spoke the youngest. This came as quite a surprise, given Aea's previous timidity. Could this be a distraction technique? Had Aea, too, seen her sister slip away? Deciding not to shatter the happy atmosphere, Ophelia remained silent.

The great Lady watched as Aea threaded flowers through the strings of her lyre -- red, yellow, red. She threaded them with nimble fingers, then approached without trepidation. Noting Rene's blush, Ophelia wound her fingers loosely through hers, giving her tiny hand a gentle squeeze.
As Aea came to a halt before them, she bent at the waist. Ophelia knitted her brows together in confusion, then once more called to mind what her father had said. Aea had probably never been taught to curtsy, but had observed and copied her fathers' mannerisms. Perhaps she could help her out somehow, school her in basic etiquette if there was time.

Distraction or not, this certainly sounded exciting. She had never seen anyone string flowers in their lyre and Aea's request intrigued her. She looked to Rene, conveying silently her deep curiosity. She already knew that she intended to choose Evanthe to go with her, should Rene accept the offer.

Suddenly, a raven appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. A raven...Apollo's messenger. Ophelia's eyes widened in awe as she looked with new eyes upon her golden friend. Aea was voicing her very thoughts aloud and for a moment it was difficult to think at all. Her mind was racing. Could Rene be blessed by Apollo? Did that explain her gift for artistry, her immense beauty, her hair of sunlight?
Aea gently stroked the chest of the ebony creature. The bird arched its neck in response.
'Are you a sign, noble bird?' the young bard enquired. Rather than wait for an answer, she moved towards the cart, though Ophelia would have very much liked to have heard the bird's response. This encounter now left her wondering whether there was indeed more to her young friend than met the eye.

To her surprise, Aea moved with a confident gait. It was that of an experienced songstress, one confident in their abilities. Perhaps she had only assumed that the girl was shy. Perhaps the girl was only shy around nobility, and was now regaining her courage. In any case, all traces of her former timidity seemed to have vanished. Ophelia watched as Aea settled herself beside the cart, the majestic raven settling itself in the very place she had asked Lady Rene to occupy. If that was not a sign of Apollo's favour, then what was? The crowd seemed to agree, for she could hear them murmuring quietly amongst themselves about the god's corvid messenger.

As Aea requested the use of her father's lyre, Ophelia wondered why. Aea already had a lyre, a beautiful lyre strung with flowers. She was certain, however, that whatever the girl had in mind was going to be wonderful. She beamed encouragingly at the girl, her emerald eyes brimming over with enthusiasm.

"What do you say, Rene, shall we hear her song?"

“Mother will not have you travel by horseback, I think we both know this. You’re asking a question which already has a set answer.” Silas replied, though Athanasia did have a point in saying that horseback would be quicker. It would at least be two thirds of the time of the carriage, but alas, Athanasia was dressed properly and it would displease Queen Yanni greatly if Athanasia’s outfit was in a disheveled state, and Silas would take the brunt of the blame as the older brother; as usual.

Silas made a low, agreeing noise as Athanasia commented that she too, thought Dion was too ill to attend the event. “That’s sweet of you, and I hope so too. Knowing mother, she already sent someone to rush for the apothecary.” Silas said, laughing dryly about Queen Yanni’s steadfastness when it came to appearances. Silas didn’t necessarily think there was anything wrong with it, they were after all, quite public figures in Colchis and by extension, the Grecian realm.

He made a face when she suddenly roared into giggles, “It’s not funny,” he sounded slightly displeased, but the frown he made, disappeared as soon as it came since the two of them did bond when she was in Lyncaea, so there was definitely pros and cons to her ill-advised trip. “I said you could learn a lot, it wasn’t an open invite to come to Lyncaea.” he corrected her, nowhere in his missive did he invite her to his camp, but he cannot undo the past, so he would have to run with the cards he has been dealt. “I said my prayer this morning,” he laughed dryly again, with a thin smirk on his lips.

Soon after, Silas drifted into a small nap while sitting in the carriage. The life of a soldier meant that he could take a nap anywhere, on ground or on rocks - he was made of Colchian grit; that much was sure.

He woke up just as the carriage was pulling into Illytia, Silas leaned out from his seat to gain a sense of where they were then retreated back into the carriage. “That was quick,” he commented idly, thinking that his nap was way shorter than he thought it was. He craned his neck from side to side in an effort to wake himself up. By the time Silas had fully regained his senses, the carriage had pulled alongside Vangelis and King Tython. Silas alighted the carriage and stood close to his family.

“Father, brother.” he gave them a greeting nod, then focused his eyes on the festivities occurring over their shoulders. Silas made no comment about Dion’s lack of a recovery and almost matched Vangelis in stoicism.

“I’ll greet whomever then spend an hour walking around.” Silas made up his own itinerary within a second, then passing his family to first greet the venerated Head Priestess of the Cypress sisterhood, Kallista of Dolomesa. “Your Grace,” he smiled a little as he tilted his head in respect. His eyes then inspected the familiar meadows of Illytia and the temple, “Today seems wonderful, and the people are certainly happy. Thank you for hosting the event, Your Grace.” he bowed, and the way he spoke was purposefully short so he could go around showing his face. He took his leave after bidding farewell to Priestess Kallista, and made his way to the streets of Illytia to speak to the residents and gain a sense of how everyone felt during the festivities, though he could go on a limb and assume almost everyone is content, or even better - elated, with the arrival of many respected figures and the joy such festivals bring to the people.