Fotios heard his wife's soft revoke and smiled to himself. He neither turned nor replied. He kept himself where he was, standing amidst the grass of the plains and waiting for her to join him. A silent reminder of the power divide between them. But he was amused by her words nonetheless. Never before had he possessed someone in his life that might feel frustration at his early hours. Never before had a woman, servant, lover or worker ever felt free to comment on his sleep pattern. It was so small a thing and yet so phenomenal in the effect it had upon him. He felt a softness somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. A tenderness that seemed pleased to have someone wish for his presence to be returned to them, to chastise when he did not care for his slumber.

Marriage, Fotios had decided over the last few weeks, was a curious thing.

Hearing the soft brush of silken sheets, Fotios could tell when his wife was finally rising from the bed. Even with the beautiful image of her body beyond his right shoulder, he kept his stare upon the horizon and his mind thinking. One part of him, the visceral and aesthetic eye within his brain was envisioning Eirini in all her nudity; the way the sheets would fall away from her form, lilting over each curve and arousing her feminine sensitivities. The other, the piece of him that was always calculating and always shrewd was thinking upon the last three weeks.

Eirini's life had indeed changed since he had plucked her from the unknown squalor of a dive-end tavern. Yet, so had Fotios's. Now, there was someone at his dinner table, whether guests were attending his estate or not. Now, the private space of his bed-chamber was no longer his own, his privacy entirely reduced to nothing. On occasional nights, he had remained in his study in order to sleep alone, not because he disliked having Eirini with him but because he was not yet used to sharing his private world. Not yet wholly content to let her all the way in.

When Eirini was not being showered with the luxuries afforded to her now as the wife of a Head of House, she was being given time with tutors. Fotios had arranged as many as he thought the woman might be able to handle without considering her husband a drill sergeant. Reading and writing had been an integral first choice, followed by basic arithmetic which had turned out to be unnecessary what with all the monetary trading she had handled at the tavern. Etiquette had been supplied both through a tutor and from Fotios himself, in comments here and there when dining or moving about the estate. He had given her a tour of her new home, shown her the stables and the estate buildings.

He had yet to introduce her to his brothers or their kin. Georgios remained in Macendia with his wife and young babe and Konstanos had been kept away. Fotios knew in his gut that Eirini was the woman for him, knew in his gut that she would be the finest of women to stand as the chief Lady of his bloodline. But he was a visionary. A man who looked to the future as if it were a foregone conclusion simply because he knew he could orchestrate it to be so. So, when he looked at Eirini, he could see all of that.

His brothers and the nobles of Taengea were less... perceptive.

He would not have Eirini introduced to the upper echelons as a tavern wench and forced to improve her image through clawing and scraping. He would introduce her as the divine creature that a little time in the lap of luxury would allow her to become.

Hearing the dripping of water in the basin inside, Fotios could just imagine the residual essence of the night before that she now rinsed away. He was instantly hard as memories of their coitus sprung true and clear in his head. The sound of her moans, the feel of her skin... He was beginning to know her body as well as he did his own.

But now was not the time for distractions. With Eirini's provocation and his stamina, they might see such diversions continuing for days. No, he needed to be practical.

It was clear, however, that Eirini had other ideas.

Joining him outside on the grass, without fear or concern for her nakedness, Eirini's hands played over Fotios' shoulders. In one was a grape, pinched between two fingers. As she leaned in closer, Fotios felt the peaks of her nipples brush against his back and the cold skin of the grape press against his mouth. He parted his lips and took it inside.

'I gather from your attire that you have plans for us today?'

Fotios bit into the grape and sucked upon its sweetness. His jaw worked upon the fruit as Eirini leaned forward to kiss the underside of it. Her hands snaked around his waist, seeking the stays of his riding pants, eager to have him naked beneath her touch once more. There was little hiding his physical desire for the same, so Fotios did not try. He had nothing to be ashamed of.

He did, however, reached to still her hands, despite her entreaty to wait, her lips working along his jawline.

"We start that now, wife, and we may never end," Fotios said. He latched his hands around her wrists like soft shackles and pulled her closer, her breasts now flush to his back and her body in line with his. "You will learn soon enough that the man you married is one tied to many a duty, including work that will see me occupied for most of the day, every day." His words were spoken softly but there was a strength behind them. A promise that would not be broken. A warning that she must not ask him to break it.

"We must soon begin to accept the normal passage of the day. Do not think this life one solely of languid ease and sexual bliss." Fotios explained, playing with the pale and elegant fingers in his hands. They were still a little rough, calloused and freckled where they had caught the sun. But the bones were fine and their shape was beautiful. A few more weeks of oil baths and ladylike diversions and her hands would be that of a true lady...